Wren and the Ravens Read online

  “How else am I supposed to get you out of there?”

  “I don’t know,” she called back. “You’re the one who had a feeling about this cave!”

  “You’re the one who jumped down into it!” he retorted.

  “Fine, you’re right. I shouldn’t have jumped down here. Are you happy now?” she asked.

  “Not really,” he called back. “My best friend is stuck down in a hole and I have no earthly clue how to get her back out.”

  “Is there some way to attach the rope to the wall or ceiling? That would make it so it doesn’t rub against the sharp rocks.”

  “I can’t see any way of doing that,” he responded. “The walls are all flat and the ceiling is just a series of stalactites. Maybe if I go back down the cave a bit I can tie the rope off on a low hanging stalactite and go for help.”

  Knell released a sigh that was audible even from where she was hanging. “Liden, call for Sarta.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Knell replied. “Sarta always follows us into the caves, call out to her.”

  Liden strained his neck to turn back down the cave. “Sarta! Get out here!” he shouted at Knell’s younger sister. “We know you’re back there.”

  From around a bend back in the cave, Liden saw Sarta’s head poke out, her blond hair draping down. Although he’d never condone her following them into the caves and mines, he was relieved to see her. “Come here, we need your help.” From a distance, she looked almost exactly like Knell; tall and slim with long blond hair. The main difference was that at barely fifteen, she was more petite.

  Her green eyes lit up when she came close. “Did you find gold?”

  Liden practically growled, “No, it’s a dead end. We’re just trying to…”

  “I told you to stop following us!” Knell shouted in a stern voice. “It’s dangerous in the caves.”

  “Liden said you needed my help,” her defiant younger sister replied. “Was this just some kind of trap?” She smacked Liden so that his grip on the rope slipped and Knell dropped down six inches.

  “She’s just giving you a hard time,” Liden cut in, giving a playful tug up and down on the rope. “We need you to go to Ryr and get Debir. He’ll know what to do. He’s in the military accounting offices.”

  “I know where he works, but everyone knows he won’t come back here,” she argued.

  “Just describe this place to him,” Knell called from the water. “We need some way of pulling me up out of this cave without the rope rubbing on the edge of the rocks. A long staff, or something. He’ll figure it out.”

  Sarta started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Knell demanded.

  “Nothing,” Sarta called back between bursts of laughter. “I’ll just run off and get my fishing pole! Don’t worry,” she added in a sarcastic tone, “I’ll hurry back to save you.”

  “Try not to gloat too much,” Liden cautioned. “She’ll be pretty upset as it is when she gets up here.” Sarta shrugged as if she didn’t care, then took off running back the way they had come.

  Liden shifted his body, getting down into as comfortable a position as he could manage, hoping his arms and legs would hold out until Sarta came back.

  “Could you hold still up there?” Knell called jokingly at Liden.

  “I’m just getting comfortable,” he called back. “When she comes back, it probably wouldn’t hurt to thank her.”

  “I appreciate the advice,” she started, “but if I do, we’ll never hear the end of it, and she’ll think it’s okay to follow me. She’s safer if she stays close to home till she’s older.”

  “I don’t think there’s any way to completely protect her,” he countered.

  “I’m her big sister.”

  Liden nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see him. “How’s the rope doing?”

  She looked up to see where the rope hung down. Each time she moved it risked slipping off the smooth edge of the stone onto one of the sharp edges, then she’d be down in the water with the dark form that continued to circle just below the surface. “Probably best to not move it much,” she called out. “I’ll be as light as I can.”

  “I appreciate that,” Liden responded.

  ****

  Liden’s body was aching, but he continued to keep the rope taught where it wound around his shoulders and forearms, gripping tightly to keep it from slipping any lower. He knew Knell was only dangling about a foot above the water, and he didn’t want to let it slip a single inch. To her credit, over the time since Sarta left, Knell hadn’t complained despite dangling over certain death if he dropped the rope. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold her, but as long as he had strength, he was not letting her go.

  From behind he saw light dancing on the walls of the cave. Sarta was coming back!

  “What are you doing?” Sarta asked. “Why don’t you just drop her in the water?”

  “I guess I didn’t mention that there’s something in the water, probably a shark.”

  “Help him with the rope!” Knell shouted up at Sarta. “He’s been holding me up while you’ve been gone.”

  “I’ll take it.” Liden recognized the deep voice of Hunlok. Of course Sarta had stopped to get Hunlok on her way. It actually wasn’t a bad idea given the situation, but still. He dropped a large pack he had with him and came closer to Liden.

  The larger boy had arms the size of Liden’s legs, built from years of working at local farms. When he took the rope, it seemed like it was nothing for him to hold her there. “Why didn’t you just pull her up?” He stepped backwards and started pulling Knell up.

  “Stop!” Knell shouted. “The rope is shifting.”

  “The rocks are like knives,” Liden tried to explain as he laid down on the smooth rocks, barely able to move his arms. Right now the rope is balanced like it’s on the side of one of those knives. That’s why we needed one of Debir’s ideas. What did he say?” Liden asked.

  Sarta rummaged through the pack Hunlok had dropped and pulled out a large crank operated crossbow. “He sent us with this!”

  “Is that for the shark?” Liden asked. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to hit it from here.”

  “If this was for hunting, we’d send it down to Knell. She’d have us a shark steak in a heartbeat.” Sarta started cranking the crossbow moving the string into place, then she retrieved a bolt from the pack. It was unlike any bolt Liden had ever seen. The head was one solid piece of metal with a metal ring attached to it. Sarta fed the end of the rope that trailed out behind Hunlok through the ring of the crossbow bolt and held it up to her shoulder.

  “Woah, hold on there,” Hunlok said.

  “Who else is going to do it?” Sarta countered.

  He looked down at Liden, but he shook his head, still unable to really move his arms. “I guess you’re right,” the larger boy replied.

  “What’s going on?” Knell called out.

  “Not to worry,” Liden called back. “Sissy here’s got a crossbow half the size of her body. This’ll be fun.”

  The twang of the crossbow was followed by a horrendous crack which drowned out her panicked gasp. Liden looked up and saw that Sarta had shot the bolt directly into a large stalactite that hung from the ceiling of the cave several feet out past the edge of the cliff. “What do you know? It actually worked!” Hunlok sounded genuinely surprised.

  “What is going on?” Knell demanded.

  “We have an anchor in the ceiling.” Liden called out. “It should work to get you up here without shredding the rope on the rocks.”

  “That sounds great. So why am I still down here?” she questioned.

  Hunlok turned to Liden and pointed at the rope. Liden could see what the problem was and he had a feeling Knell wasn’t going to like it. To shoot the bolt with the rope threaded through the ring there needed to be a certain amount of slack on the rope. Right now Hunlok held the rope in two hands. His left hand held the rope that stretched over the edge of
the cliff, past the sharp rocks down to Knell, and in his right hand he held the end of the rope that had been fed through the metal ring. For them to pull her back up, first they needed to let go of the section in his left hand that held her.

  “Hold on,” Liden said. “I’ll make sure the rope is as taught as possible.” Sarta jumped in to help Liden take the end of the rope from Hunlok and pull in every inch of slack they could between them and the ring in the stalactite. Even doing so, however, there was still the several feet worth of rope stretching over the precipice that would fall until it hung directly below the ring.

  It would probably just drop her a couple of feet, and swing her back and forth a little as her body centered under the ring in the ceiling. The problem was that it would also drop her enough to hit the water.

  “Should we tell her?” Hunlok asked. The large farm boy looked scared, and Liden didn’t blame him. If it came down to a fight, Liden’s money would be on Knell.

  He cupped his hands and called down to her. “You’re going to swing a little bit, but we’ll pull you up as fast as we can.” Liden grabbed the end of the rope that came through the metal ring with both hands and nodded to Hunlok. “Get ready. Sarta and I will hold this as tight as we can while you let go of that section.”

  Hunlok nodded. “I’ll be quick.” He let go of the rope in his left hand, it slithered back across the stone toward the precipice, dropping Knell down. There was barely a splash before Hunlok seized the section of rope right in front of Liden and Sarta and practically ran backwards with the others, jetting Knell upwards, supported by the metal ring that was anchored into the stalactite.

  Crack!

  The stalactite snapped down the middle, dislodging the bolt. Knell screamed. Liden stared with wide eyes. Hunlok braced his feet as Knell dropped down, swinging again with the rope rubbing against the sharp rock face.

  Liden held his breath as the rope creaked back and forth.

  “Ouch!” Knell shouted.

  “Are you okay?” Sarta shouted into the opening.

  “I’d really like it,” she began calmly, “if you’d put the anchor into something a little more solid!” Her voice rose to a frantic shout as she concluded.

  “Calm down. It was my first time shooting a crossbow!” Sarta protested.

  “You needed to hit the ceiling of the cave,” Knell countered.

  Hunlok cut in. “I think this is why Debir gave us two of those bolts.”

  “Wait a sec,” Sarta’s voice had an edge of being offended. “How could he know I was going to miss?”

  “He’s a smart guy!” Knell shouted.

  They threaded the rope through the metal ring of the second bolt, cranked the crossbow, and Sarta fired again, this time sinking the bolt into the solid ceiling of the cave.

  “We’re going to pull you up as quickly as we can, take a deep breath!” Liden called.

  “What?”

  The rope dropped and Knell splashed into the pool again. The boys pulled her up out of the water and kept pulling until she was at eye level with them, hanging from the metal ring. For the first time, Liden could see the cut on her hand. Her entire hand was stained red from blood and she looked pale.

  Liden threw her a rope and pulled her in as Hunlok slowly released his rope so she could come to them. She stepped foot on the solid rock again and held her hands out wide to the side and bowed. “Another perfect landing!”

  “Are you serious?” Liden said, putting his head in his hands. “It’s more like, ‘another perfect fall into a dangerous situation until you were fished out.’ Jumping into a black hole almost got you killed. You need medical help. Don’t you have anything else to say?” Liden crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I sure do!” she answered confidently. She pointed at her younger sister. “Sarta, you need to stop following me into the caves, and Liden,” she added, “I think this cave is a dead end.”

  Liden fell down to the ground with a grunt.

  Chapter 2

  Drums beat their undulating rhythm through the streets as the people danced. Small fires were set in alleys. Nothing so large as to threaten the tightly packed buildings of timber that jettied out further over the street with each additional story, but enough to impede the flow of foot traffic. Wren pulled his hood back enough to clear his peripheral vision. Midsummer Festival was excellent for concealing his movements through the city, but what was good for him was just as good for pickpockets and others who would certainly also take advantage of the pressing crowds.

  As if on cue, Wren spotted a young teenager with skinny arms reach out and cut a coin purse from an unsuspecting man. No one else had noticed. The kid was smooth; not as adept as Wren, of course, but good enough that he was able to slip away and disappear into the crowd, presumably to keep working until he picked the wrong pocket.

  Wren wove his way through the street, squeezing between a pair of large men who had obviously started drinking long before the festivities.

  “Happy Midsummer to you!” one of them said as he raised a dirty mug, sloshing a bit of ale out the side.

  “Hap-py misumr chu!” the other one added just before letting out a belch that reeked of halitosis mixed with alcohol and sausage.

  Wren grimaced and continued onward. He stepped around a small gathering of people leaping over a small fire. As a child, Wren had done the same thing many times. Midsummer had always been about finding the joy in life, looking forward to the bright days and a good harvest. Foolishness, all of it. Wren thought as he watched a pair of girls jump the fire while holding hands and giggling. They were followed by their mother and father. Though it had been fun as a child, Wren couldn’t condone such idiocy as an adult. Jumping over a fire didn’t produce good luck any more than praying at the local shrine would make a beggar rich, or raise a widow’s husband from the grave. No, Wren had grown out of such notions long ago.

  He looked upward and saw a busty woman, accentuated by the tight corset she was wearing, leaning out of a window and waving a handkerchief. She was whistling and calling out to some of the men passing by below. From this position it was difficult to tell if the red on her cheeks was from powder or drink. Either way, the woman was like everyone else: oblivious to reality.

  It was fortunate that both kingdoms celebrated the same holiday. If the governor of Freyr had any brains, he would march his armies northward into the kingdom of Merryn during the festival and easily crush the hordes of drunkards without hardly breaking a sweat. Maybe then the war would have an ending in sight. Then again, that would be bad for business.

  Wren walked toward a green building across a large street filled with dancers and jugglers. None of the people noticed him until after he slipped into the building and closed the door behind himself.

  “It’s a holiday, we’re closed,” a man called from somewhere in the back.

  Wren smiled and slid a chair up under the knob and then bolted the front door for good measure. “Mortimer Falik, I need a word with you.”

  Wren turned and slowly made his way toward the bar. His right hand went to the small of his back where he had a mini crossbow. He took the weapon out and loaded a single bolt. His left hand worked the arms back into place. He crossed the remaining distance to the bar and leaned on it, his right hand holding the mini crossbow down out of sight.

  “I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” Mortimer’s voice came from the back, behind a curtain that separated the main hall of the small tavern from the storeroom.

  “Yes, well, next time you want to send someone after me, better make sure they don’t botch the job.”

  “What?! No, I didn’t want to tell them, they forced me,” Mortimer said from behind the curtain.

  “It’s all right, Mortimer, I knew you were a backstabber when I started dealing with you. When you work as long as I have, it’s easy to spot the ones that would sell their own mother for a few gold.”

  “I swear, they threatened me,” Mortimer said.

  Wre
n chuckled. He knew better than to believe that. Mortimer was the opportunistic type, and hardly ever needed to be threatened or coerced. More likely he had been bought and paid for, plain and simple. It just so happened that he had expected it and prepared accordingly. “I’m not here for revenge, Mortimer, I am here on business.”

  “You are?” Mortimer’s tone turned almost melodic, but then any mention of money made Mortimer a happy fellow.

  “Seems odd, closing a tavern during Midsummer festival,” Wren pointed out.

  The curtain slowly parted and Mortimer peeked out. “I’m unarmed,” Mortimer said.

  “Alone?” Wren asked.

  Mortimer nodded. “My wife is upstairs.”

  Wren grinned. “And what about your bouncer? What was his name again?”

  “Bricker,” Mortimer answered as he stepped out from behind the curtain. He held his hands up in front of his chest and walked with slow, shuffling steps as his eyes scanned Wren. “Bricker isn’t here. Now, are you truly here on business?”

  Wren nodded. “We had an arrangement, you and I. If you still have the item, then I will make payment as promised and let bygones be bygones.”

  Mortimer smiled and nodded. “Something told me you’d be back for it. I kept it all this time, just in case you made it out alive.”

  “You should have more faith, my friend,” Wren said.

  Mortimer managed a half-smile and then gestured with his chin to Wren’s right arm. “Friends are we? Is that why you have a weapon behind the bar?”

  Wren shrugged and brought the mini-crossbow up, letting his hand rest on the bar, but not relaxing his grip on the weapon. “You don’t live as long as I have in this business without a few precautions, and besides, you already sold me out once.” He then leaned a bit closer in and said, “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have ever seen me coming.”

  Small beads of sweat were beginning to form on Mortimer’s forehead. “I don’t want any trouble. You said we could just make the transaction.”