Yamara - Book 1 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The trip through the sewers was an adventure by itself. Brina was astonished at the apparent waste of water necessary to float the distinctly unpleasant things through the underground passages and away from the city. According to James, the sewers drained into an underground river, downstream from the same river where the cities water source was obtained from.

Something James neglected to tell us was that every 3 hours the dams on the pipes leading from the sophisticated water tank in the city to the sewers were opened to flush the refuse and waste for 15 minutes. Then they were closed so that the water levels would be replenished by the prisoners forced to operate the water pumping mechanism. All in all, when we finally got him to describe it to us, I had to admit I was very impressed by the level of engineering that went into it.

What happened to alert us to this regular flushing was a slowly building roaring noise. Brina was the first to notice it. It grew quickly once she asked what it was. We turned to look at James to ask him what it was and saw the smirk on his face. He was behind me still, so I had to turn around to look at him. It was at that moment that I noticed the raising water level. The rapidly raising water level.

"Brina!" I called out, lunging forward and grabbing onto James' arm. I grabbed him just in time, for the leading edge of the frothing sewage filled water overcame us. We were swept off our feet instantly and sent down the passage, buffeted mercilessly by the walls of the passage and water unrecognizable objects were in the water with us. Somehow, I managed to keep hold of James.

I hate to think of the water that got in my mouth, up my nose and in my ears, or in any of my other more sensitive places. It was a rough ride, and James did his best to try and get away from me. I let go of the lantern I had in my hand almost instantly and did my best to wrap myself around him. In particular, I worked my way around behind him and kept one hand wrapped around his lower arm and my other arm managed a safe hold around his neck.

The crushing wave we were trapped in petered out before too long, though it seemed an eternity to me. I could only imagine what Brina was feeling like. As the water level receded and slowed somewhat, I managed to get my feet under me. James was all but limp in my arms - I guess I had gripped him a bit to tightly. I stood up in the water and dragged him over to the side of the tunnel with me to lean against the wall. I turned about to look for Brina then, knowing that James was no immediate threat.

Brina was nowhere to be seen though. I hoped that was because we had no light and our visibility was practically nothing. Some faint ambient light filtered in from somewhere though, but I had no idea where it came from at that point.

"Yamara!" A girlish shout, albeit waterlogged, sounded from somewhere further down the sewer tunnel. It was followed quickly by a groan, decidedly masculine in nature, then the sounds of someone thrashing in the water. Finally things grew quiet again.

A very uncharacteristic fear rose in me. I quelled it quickly, but grabbed James up all the same. "If you're people hurt her, death won't come quick enough for you!" I hissed to him. He had regained some of his strength, enough to stand on his own and whisper in response to me, "None of my people come down here."

He stopped and listened carefully to the echoing of the passage for a moment before saying, "The sounds came from up ahead, let's go."

I ached to go forward, which surprised me, but my suspicion overrode my foolish concerns. "Why are you suddenly helpful?"

"This is my city," He said, his tone quite insistent. "Whatever's down here with us shouldn't be here, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let it get away, even if that means allying myself with an agent of Dagrazt!"

There it was, the name Brina and I had been hoping to learn. I had to admit, for some reason simply hearing it sent a chill down my spine and made our surroundings suddenly that much more somber. "Is that the Dark One?" I asked to confirm my guess.

"Aye," he muttered, his tone showing he was irritated with something, most likely himself for having said the name.

"Then let's go, If Brina is dead, there'll be hell to pay!"

We moved forward through the sewer, almost blindly. We followed one wall carefully, but moving with as much haste as was prudent. The wall fell away from us on our left then, indicating a branch in the passage. It was here that the earlier scuffle had taken place. Ten disembodied pairs of red eyes was what we noticed first, but there was enough extra light here to see those eyes belonging to six bodies. Six of them were in the water with us, while the additional figures stood nearby, up higher where the rocky floor rose up some six inches out of the water to form a shelf. Of the four not near us already, one was crouched over the prone form of what could only be Brina.

"Orcs!" James hissed, reaching for the sword that was no longer at his side. I nodded, having instantly recognized the eyes of the creatures as belonging to orcs. Their infravision caused them to glow softly in the dark as they saw through the darkness by detecting the shades of heat. Their unnatural advantage of night-sight was lost to them when one of the other figures unhooded their lantern from which a small amount of light had leaked.

Light flooded through the passage, causing everyone to blink and squint suddenly. Call me lucky, but I had just glanced away when this happened, so I reacted first. I tossed the dagger I had taken from Paul to James, who caught it out of the air in spite of his impaired vision. Then I drew my shortsword and charged towards the closest orc, who was struggling to adapt to the sudden light messing up his low light vision.

Many creatures possessed the ability to see in the dark - goblins, orcs, elves, dwarves, and many others. For some reason I had never learned and none of them had ever explained to me, their low light vision only worked in near or total darkness. Even light such as a torch or lantern was to bright to allow it to function. Unwittingly, the forces arrayed against us had worked in our favor by flooding the tunnel with light.

The orc was pulling out a crude but lethal looking broadsword when I ran him through. I yanked my shortsword out and left him on his knees cradling the blood and gore that spilled over his fingers from the gaping wound in his upper abdomen. I ducked under a slash from another orc that had managed to make a half blind attack at me, and cut deeply into the inside of his thigh, hamstringing him and cutting through his femoral artery.

That orc fell into the water, thrashing in pain as the muscles in his leg twisted up and contracted. By the time he had come to terms with the pain, I knew he would be unable to fight due to blood loss.

James rushed forward beside me a heartbeat later, not as disadvantaged as the confused orcs. He kicked an orcs sword out to the side as the orc tried to raise it. His dagger plunged up into the underside of the orcs chin then, going straight into its brain. His other hand grabbed the broadsword out of the dead orcs hand as it twitched in death spasms.

The remaining 3 orcs had adjusted enough by then that they came at us a bit more organized. Still, they were just orcs. Where I had come from, orcs were generally threatening only in great numbers. Brutal and vicious, nevertheless they relied more on brute strength and numbers then grace, finesse, or skill. Now that these orcs had recovered somewhat from the sudden light, they approached us carefully enough that I knew them to be different then the orcs I was used to.

Still, the orcs made a mistake in assuming James was more dangerous then I was. Well, at least in my mind they did. Two of them went after him while only one came at me. He attacked carefully, thrusting his broadsword at me experimentally. I swatted it off to the left and turned my blade over to return a thrust in his direction. I was surprised by his speed and skill, for he altered the momentum of his deflected broadsword and brought it across in a swipe at my neck. I ducked low, ruining my thrust at him, but saving my own neck in the process.

I gathered my legs under me and raised my sword instinctively. Sure enough, I blocked the next swing from the broadsword, tremors running down my arms from the strike. I stood up quickly as the orc tried to recover and drove my foot into his crotch. Had the orc somehow survived or evaded my following attack with my shortsword, he would surely have been permanently unable to father any little orclings. Too bad for him, he would never reach that point in his life.

James was hard pressed against the two orcs he faced. Normally, when two opponents attack one target, they stand a greater chance of fouling each other up then actually causing the target injury. That was a normal situation. The alternative to that was when warriors had been trained in such tactics and knew how to fight alongside another. These orcs, surprisingly (to me) had been trained in those very tactics. It was everything he could do with dagger and broadsword to block attack after attack levied on him.

I was torn, I wanted desperately to go and battle the people that stood near Brina, but I knew if I left enemies behind me and James was overcome, my rescue effort would be short lived, at best. Cursing, I turned and moved behind one of the two orcs James faced. One of the figures on the landing spat out something in orcish, which I interpreted to be a warning. Before the orc could respond to it I grabbed it's head and used my shortsword to lay open it's throat from one ear to the other.

Facing only one orc suddenly, James took the offensive. The other orc was still in two on one combat mode, so he was totally unprepared for James to ignore the coming assault from the now dead attacker. James thrust his dagger deep into the side of the remaining orc and held his captured broadsword out to deflect the return attack by the orc. The stood locked like that for a moment while the orc tried to overpower James with the last of its strength. The pain of its wound overcame it quickly though and it staggered back away from him. James liberated the orc's head from its body before it had taken more then two steps back from him.

Together, we approached the four figures guarding Brina. I studied them more closely now, and saw that while they were more human then the orcs, they were still decidedly ugly. I had never seen them before, but I remembered learning about their kind back on Halador in my training with the Ornithrym. Half-Orcs. One part human, one part orc, and about twelve parts ugly. Half-orcs were more dangerous on average then a true orc, for they were considered to be more intelligent then their pure blooded cousins (the orc part, not the human part... although any human willing to mate with an orc could be considered considerably stupid as well).

I grabbed one of the throwing daggers from my belt and threw it with my left hand, distracting the orc hovering over Brina. He flinched and tried to dodge it, succeeding to the point where the pommel glanced off his elbow as it flew past. James, I am sure, would have preferred to draw the orcs to us, but I was concerned about Brina and did not want her used as a hostage. I heard James groan in dismay as I rushed forward, but he quickly followed after. The going was rough for the first several steps as we forced our feet through the brackish water. But then we cleared the water picked up speed on the rocky shelf.

I was a few steps ahead of James due to my head start, so the half-orcs had moved forward to block my way. All except the one that stood over Brina. He moved a few steps away from her, then stopped and looked back at her, thinking my worst fears, that she might make a good bargaining piece. Behind me James used me as a screen and threw the dagger I had given him. The half-orc never saw it coming, only that it had suddenly appeared in his studded leather covered stomach.

I had run out of room to run, what with only a matter of some ten feet of shelf from the water to where they were waiting. The half-orc James had wounded was staring down in surprise at the dagger in his belly. I threw a high attack at the half-orc beside him, forcing him to defend and take a step back, then I grabbed the dagger out of the first ones stomach before his hands could reach it. I reversed the motion and plunged it back in, this time higher. It slid off one of the studs on his leather armor, then ricocheted off of one of the half-orcs ribs, but the end result was still a dagger buried in his chest poking a sizeable hole in one of his lungs.

The third orc swung at me from my right flank where he had come around. Acting more on instinct then from actually seeing him, I ducked down. Not quite fast enough, his longsword caught some of my hair and tore it out, but not until after it glanced off the top of my head. I was stunned by the blow, unable to think clearly. I knew I needed to get away though, so I fell backwards and scrambled away quickly.

James, I hate to admit, came to my rescue. He stepped in above me and blocked a downwards slash aimed at me. His intervention caught the half-orcs by surprise, but outnumbering him two to one, he was on the defensive for himself quickly. I managed to get my feet under me again and shake my head to clear it. That hurt even worse. The pain helped focus me though. I realized I still had a hold on both the dagger and the sword, a testimony to my training.

I left James to handle the two half-orcs, though he looked hard pressed. The third remaining half-orc had started forward again, confident in defeating us. Then he saw me coming after him. He started backing up quickly, and from the way he held his longsword, I knew that Brina was in danger if I did not do something. At a distance of 8 feet, I threw my dagger. He had to dodge to his left to avoid being hit by it, but that worked in my favor because Brina was to his right. I leapt at him after another two steps, throwing my sword at him as well.

The half-orc had to use his own blade to parry my shortsword, allowing my flying body to slam into him around the waist. He grunted and fell back, falling to the ground on his back. I scrambled up his body quickly, before he could bring his sword down on me. Sure, at that range he would have a hard time using the blade, but that would not stop him from smashing the pommel into me if I gave him half a chance.

James found himself pushed back further and further from me by the two half-orcs. Like their now deceased cousins, the half-orcs knew how to fight together. James stayed on the defensive, breathing hard from the exertion of the fight. He had begun to see a pattern to their attacks, but the amount of energy he was expending was going to make it a close fight. He managed to hold on until the proper moment though, and then lashed out. His parry sent one of the half-orc's sword wide, making it break their rhythm as the other half-orc had to parry his own partner's weapon. James seized upon the opening and plunged his captured broadsword into the second half-orc's chest, tearing it out the left just as quickly. The half-orc fell away, clutching in agony at the mortal wound in its chest.

My knee found the half-orcs scrotum twice while we wrestled, drawing a painful grunt the first time, and more of an explosion of soundless air the second. The half-orc was clearly in pain, but he struggled against me in spite of it. His strength must have been a benefit from the orcish side of his family, for as I said long ago, I am quite strong myself and he was holding his own against me. I managed to get a hand free and sent it in, smashing against the side of his face. His head was rocked back, bouncing off the rock shelf, but he seemed unfazed by it. I delivered another jab before he got an arm up to block me.

With only one half-orc remaining, James was able to breathe a bit easier and conserve his strength while the two studied each others movements. James had to credit the half-orc with skill and cunning, but he was sure in time he would win. He had been trained by the King's weapons master, after all. His chance came after a furious bout of attacks and parries by both of them. He deflected the half-orcs sword down and to the left. The point hit the ground and bounced back a bit. James snapped his left foot out, catching the flat underside of the sword with his toes and lifting it up high before the half-orc could think to stabilize his sword. With the sword up high, James drove his fist into the orcs throat, bruising its windpipe and making it cough. It stumbled away from him, one arm going to its throat. James advanced, giving it no quarter.

The half-orc parried the next several swings from James sword, but each one was stronger and took more of its will to fight out of it. Finally, the half-orcs sword was knocked down and James' next swing, gripped in both hands, took its head from its shoulders.

A sharp lance of fire entered my hip then, and I realized that the half-orc's right arm that had gotten somewhat free had drawn a weapon that was now sticking in my left hip. The pain only drove me further though. My arm let go of his in a gamble and snapped up, catching him under the chin and driving his jaws together. The sound of his teeth crashing together nearly echoed in the sewers, but was muffled somewhat by his tongue that had gotten caught between his teeth. The bloody morsel of flesh fell back into his mouth as he opened it to scream in pain. Too bad for him, the tip of his tongue fell straight into his throat and he started to choke on it.

I felt the pain lesson in my hip as his hand fell away from my side, but I could feel the warmth and the wetness of blood running down my leg. I reached down and grabbed up the dagger that he had just used on me. It was a bit crude, but nonetheless, it served its purpose well. I stood up gingerly, testing my hip carefully. The orc twitched a few times, the dagger sunk into its ruined eye socket almost to the hilt.

I glanced over and saw that James had just finished off his opponents. I was impressed, but I did not waste the time to show it. Even my own concern for my injury paled in comparison to the concern I felt for Brina. Briefly, I pondered the strangeness that was overcoming me, then I shelved the thoughts for a later time.

I fell to my knees beside Brina, checking her over carefully before touching her. She looked a little pale in the feeble lantern light, but I could see no visible wounds on her. I looked at James, who approached me slowly, breathing heavily. I noticed he held the longsword uncertainly in his hands as he drew closer, as though he was not sure what to do with it. I motioned towards the lantern, figuring that we would sort things out later. James apparently agreed with me, because after a thoughtful moment, he walked over and got it.

With better light I could see some blood in Brina's hair, though it wasn't much. It was near the back of her head, near where my own head had been hit. Realizing that set off a wave of nausea in me as I remembered my own head wound. My vision grew dizzy for a moment then passed, but an impressive pounding began in my head. All in all, I felt like taking a nap was not such a bad idea after all. I shook the feeling off, which only served to make me dizzy again.

I gently felt through her hair, searching for anything truly dangerous. All I found was a bruised area that was wet with her blood, no serious injuries. In the better light, I could see her chest rising and falling as she breathed peacefully. I reached up then to my own head wound and gently probed at it. It was puffy and numb, and my hand came away with some blood on it, though not as much as I would have expected. I had gotten lucky and the edge of the sword had not caught my scalp, only the hair that had been torn out caused the blood.

"She's unconscious, they must have hit her in the head with something," I said, relaxing a little. "Now what do we do about you?"

I turned and stood up, a little unsteady on my feet. I felt the warmth of a trickle of blood running down my leg and it made me wonder how bad the wound was, but James did not need to know that. He studied me carefully, his sword held between us but in a relaxed position. I had no doubts that he could have it up and ready in a moments notice if need be. He turned and walked over to where my shortsword had fallen. He leaned over carefully and picked it up, keeping one eye on me the entire time. He casually glanced at it then tossed it my way.

"We can worry about that later," was all he said. He walked over to where some spare equipment was piled up on the ledge and pulled the longsword off the top of the pile that Brina had taken from him. He glanced at the belt and scabbard Brina still wore around her waste longingly. "When she wakes up remind her to return that to me."

I nodded and smiled faintly. In spite of my headache, he had amused me, though I clearly did not trust him yet. I turned back to Brina and wondered if I should try waking her up or let her sleep some more. Before I could make a decision, I felt myself stumble. I found myself sitting on the floor, with a growing numbness in my hip.

"Are you hurt?" James asked, stopping from where he had headed to search through the corpses of the half-orcs.

"Got bumped in the head," I mumbled, still determined to hide my weakness from him. He nodded, stared at me for a long moment, then turned and resumed rifling through the half-orcs equipment.

I squirmed around a bit so that my wounded side was facing away from him, toward Brina. I fished around with the breeches I had taken from Paul and found a rather large tear in them where the half-orcs dagger had cut through. Using that as a point of entry, I spread the tear enough to get a decent look at my hip. Blood leaked out of the gash in it, soaking the pants and running down my body to wherever gravity took it. The flow was not mortal, but it definitely had caused me to lose enough blood to be concerned.

I pulled my shirt out of where I had tucked it into my pants and, using my short sword, cut off a couple of strips and a large patch. My newly tailored shirt was to short to tuck back in to my pants, and it even displayed a small portion of my belly. Given that it had little to no protective value in the first place, I was not concerned. The patch of cloth I folded up and placed over the wound, which was roughly two inches long on the surface and I suspected went rather deep into my upper hip. Had his blade been angled up instead of down, the half-orc probably would have been able to shove several inches of steel into my lower intestine.

For my next bit of self medication I had to get a little more involved. I glanced over at James and saw him quite engrossed in searching for clues as to what the task of humanoids was doing in the sewers. Satisfied, I slipped my pants down to my mid thigh. I was not the least concerned about modesty, but rather making certain James was as unaware of my injuries as possible until I trusted him. Considering the amount of trust I had to go around, I expected to be dead and buried and still not want him to know about it.

I slipped the shorter strip of cloth as high up on my leg as I could go without having it in my womb. I tied it almost tight enough to cut off circulation, securing the makeshift bandage in place. The longer strip went around my waste, only barely being long enough to wrap around the shorter strap and further secure the compress once tied. As soon as I had the straps in place, I slipped my breeches back up over my hips and tied them as tightly as I could.

I checked the bandage and noticed that while it was serving its purpose, blood was already beginning to soak through it. I scowled but decided that it would have to do. My next task was to make myself as comfortable as possible. I slipped onto my side to elevate my injured hip and looked over Brina to watch James as he pilfered the corpses.

In several more minutes, he had finished and came over to sit next to us, on the other side of Brina. He glanced at my blood soaked pants but said nothing to me. Instead he held out several brooches with the same design on them, a dark lightning bolt through a skull, made out of a dark silvery metal that I did not recognize.

"Can you tell me what these are?" He asked suspiciously.

"Bad fashion statements," I deadpanned.

He frowned at me and stared at me for a moment. Finally I shrugged. "I have no idea what they are. I'd guess they are too well crafted to be made by orcs though, if that's what you are getting at. What are they made out of?"

"The elves call it starsilver, the dwarves call it mithril," he said, glancing back at them. "They are badges worn by operatives of the dark one to help them recognize one another. They are specially enchanted so that those that can see in the dark can recognize one another instantly."

I nodded. It sounded like a good idea, provided the only people with low light vision were the ones that wore the brooches. "If he is so far away from here, what in the nine hells are these orcs doing here?"

"Probably planning on raiding the city, the Dark One considers Elendar his greatest threat. Gneiss has a larger army, but they only have priests whereas we have an academy of mages and warrior mages. Further, the Gneissian's do not believe in the foul powers of the Dark One's army, so he does not consider them a danger."

"How could 6 orcs and 4 half-orcs constitute a threat to Elendar's largest city?" I asked, almost noticing how warm I was beginning to get.

"My guess is that they have several of these bands scattered throughout the sewers. I have to get back up and warn the city," James glanced around, an uncertain look on his face. "I believe there is a way to the surface nearby."

I looked at him as he glanced around. James appeared so concerned that he had forgotten about Brina and I. His eyes found mine and we locked gazes for a moment. Finally he nodded and said, "I still do not know nor trust you and your friend, but I do not think you are agents of the Dark One. If you follow the passage we were on for some distance, you will come to a branch. To the left it the tunnel flows down and returns to return to the original underground river this once was. To the right it will branch up, leaving the water behind and emerge in the cellar of a tanner's shop. Say to him, 'Fisherman's Allure', and from there you can reach the gate of the city and be on your way."

"Why the change of heart?" I asked him, my vision becoming a bit fuzzy around the edges, though I struggled against the pain in my head and the growing warmth in my body that threatened to envelop me.

"I can not forgive you the murder of my assistant and the guards, but I believe you have proven yourself to be no enemy of Elendar," He explained.

"It is the nature of evil to do whatever is necessary to succeed," I mumbled, having trouble enunciating. My next words I was sure were impossible to understand, but James nodded thoughtfully in spite of it. "Perhaps I slew them to win your trust and affect my escape."

"You think deviously, I applaud that," James said. "But I think that, like it or not, you will enjoy my hospitality again, though this time I promise your treatment will not be as harsh."

I tried to deny him, but did not have the energy to do so. For that matter, I struggled desperately to rouse myself, but my injuries were to severe. In a few more moments, my head drooped to the stone and I passed out.

Continued in Chapter 10

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