Douglas Niles - Emperor of Ansalon

"My name is Ferros Windchisel-and all I ask is a cup of water!"

The name sounded dwarven. Ariakas had fought and drunk beside dwarves, and he respected their prowess in both categories, but had never befriended one. Nor did he have any intention of doing so now.

"You seek to gain this water by threat?" hissed Aria shy;kas. "What good is it to you to reveal my presence here?"

"No good to me," replied Ferros conversationally. "But even less so to you. Call it a threat if you will-I call it a reasonable price to pay for my silence."

"Where is this water?"

"The guard keeps a bucket beside his bench-but be careful. He's a light sleeper."

Ariakas didn't like the suggestion or the threat, but one thing he remembered about dwarves was their gods-cursed stubbornness. He had no doubt that Ferros Wind-chisel would make quite a racket if he refused his request.

"I'll get your damned water," he snapped.

"Come in and get my cup, then," rasped the dwarf.

Surprised, Ariakas tested the cell door. It was bolted on the outside, but not locked. At first he thought it a careless arrangement, but when he pressed the bolt aside and entered the cell, he saw that the ogres were taking no chances.

A thin reflection of torchlight spilled through the door, revealing a short, bearded figure sitting against the far wall of the small cell. Ferros Windchisel reached out, the movement making a pronounced rattle. He was chained by the neck to a solid bracket in the wall-a situation identical to that of the lady, save for the bleak surround shy;ings.

"Thanks, friend," said the dwarf, extending a filthy tin cup toward the warrior.

"How do you know I won't kill you right now to make my job easier?" demanded Ariakas.

"I hadn't thought of that," replied the dwarf. "I sup shy;pose you could do that before I could make too much noise." He reflected ruefully on the prospect, his dark eyes glaring reflectively up at the large human.

"Ah-to the Abyss with it!" grunted Ariakas, even more irritated. He reached out and snatched the cup from the dwarf's hand. Quietly he left the cell, turned the corner, and shielded his eyes from the direct torch shy;light. Stealthily approaching the slumbering ogre, he saw the bucket of water, half-full, beside the stout bench. The beast slumbered unsuspectingly as Ariakas dipped the cup through the film atop the liquid, scooping out a drink for the dwarf.

Hastily retracing his steps, he stalked into the cell and extended the cup. "Here you are-and make no mistake! If you don't stick to our bargain, I'll get back here before the ogres catch me. You'll die before me!"

"Bargain?" The dwarf, whose face was streaked with grime, managed to look mildly perplexed. "Oh, you mean not to wake the guard?"

"What else would I mean?" growled Ariakas.

Ferros took a deep drink and looked sheepish. "Actu shy;ally, I exaggerated about the guard being a light sleeper. That slug could nap through an earthquake and never miss a snore-you didn't have anything to worry about from me."

The first flush of Ariakas's rage was replaced by an astonishing desire to laugh. He shook his head in mute surprise.

"I don't suppose I could get you to spring this lock?" inquired Ferros hopefully. "The key's on the big ring he wears at his belt. My Hylar cousins would be grateful."

"No." Ariakas shook his head. "The last thing I need's a hue and cry getting started over an escaped prisoner. Sorry, dwarf."

Surprising himself, Ariakas actually did feel sorry for the dwarf. There was something very capable, even important, about Ferros Windchisel that struck a chord of sympathy in the man. Still, it was not enough to over shy;rule his own objectives of rescue and escape.

Ferros slumped backward, apparently not surprised. "I suppose you're here about the lady?" he ventured.

Ariakas felt a shock. "What do you know about the lady?" he barked.

"Lots of fellows like you have come through here. Some of 'em died right down the hall from here, after the Painmaster finished his stuff."

"And yet it would seem that none has succeeded in rescuing her," Ariakas pressed.

"Well, no-if that's how you look at it."

The warrior didn't waste time pondering the dwarf's unusual phrasing. "How many ogres and human war shy;riors are there in this tower?" Ariakas asked.

"Ogres?" Ferros shrugged. "Too many, that's all I know. I've only seen one human, though. He was wear shy;ing a breastplate a lot like yours."

"No humans, then," Ariakas noted grimly, half to him shy;self. Then, with a rekindling of his anger, he remembered Oberon.

He turned to go. As a last thought, he spoke to the dwarf from the entrance to the cell. "I'll leave the catch on your door released. If you can get that collar off your neck, then I wish you good luck."

"Farewell-for now," said the dwarf cheerfully as Ari shy;akas pulled the portal shut. True to his word, the warrior drew the catch-bolt slightly short of its socket. He didn't think that the dwarf could manage to escape, and this way the position of the bolt was so subtly altered that he suspected the guard would notice nothing amiss when next he brought Ferros Windchisel his water or food. Ariakas didn't speculate as to how long that might be.

The guarding ogre slumbered in blissful ignorance as the human crept past. Ariakas thought for a moment of slicing the great, blubber-ringed neck, but he quickly dis shy;carded the idea. All he needed was the ogre's replace shy;ment tromping down the steps to discover his cohort in a pool of fresh blood. No, he would take his chances with one more ogre in the tower.

The key ring hung from a clip at the ogre's huge belt. Dozens of metal keys arced around the heavy circlet of iron, but the warrior was elated to see that they were supported by a thin strip of leather. A quick flick of his dagger brought the keys into Ariakas's hand, without a disturbance in the slumbering ogre's snores.

Hefting the ring, careful to avoid jangling, Ariakas turned back into the dungeon. He crept silently past Fer-ros Windchisel's cell, through the corridor, and back to the foot of the secret stairway.

Creeping silently upward, Ariakas felt a mental weight dragging at his footsteps. His pace slowed, and finally he stopped altogether, no more than a dozen steps from the bottom of the secret stairway.

The urge to rescue the lady still drew him forward, but with the keys in his hands, he began to consider the prospects of a realistic plan. How would he get her through the keep and over the drawbridge with a castle full of ogres watching over them? The more he thought, the more he decided that some sort of diversion was essential to their chances of success.

Decision made, he turned and descended the stairs again, stealthily advancing into the dungeon to the door he had left partially unlatched. Sliding the catch-bolt qui shy;etly to the side, he stepped within.

"Is that you, warrior?" The voice rasped from the lightless cell. The dwarf's eyes were far more attuned to the darkness than were Ariakas's.

"I've come back to give you that chance at freedom," he announced without preamble. "You still want to escape?"

"More than anything-but why give me a chance now?" The dwarf's voice was tinged with skepticism; this stout Hylar would not be fooled by any tale of phil shy;anthropy. Ariakas's adjusting eyes showed him a look of shrewd appraisal on Ferros Windchisel's dirt-streaked face.

"I'm going to make my own escape, with the la- another prisoner. The more of us who get away, the more confusion we'll cause the ogres."

"Diversion, huh?" Ferros Windchisel digested this information with the pragmatism he had displayed all along. "Can you get me a weapon?"