Rogues of Magic: (A Tale of the Dwemhar Trilogy) by J.T. Williams

Author:J.T. Williams [Williams, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12 Captured

With morning, a glint of sunlight cut across Garoa’s face, and he opened his eyes to see his daughter staring out into the woods. She possessed a short bow and had a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. Swinging on her side hung a curved sword partially veiled by the brown tunic and cloak over her head.

Garoa sat up, and his head still ached from the night before, but his vision was now clear. He felt the fight in his arms and legs, but he was uninjured otherwise.

"We will head down to the city. I know where they will hold your friend."

Asnea grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He wobbled and found his footing. Looking him over, she pulled his cloak over his head.

"I have left flowers on the grave of my mother every week since she departed, even when I was too small to go alone. However, the woods now are much more dangerous. Strange for a man of your sort to not carry a weapon."

"I'm not used to weapons. A bit more about me that you don't know, but it is of no importance now."

She raised both eyebrows, not sure of what to say further, and then led him down beside the walls of the city. They walked a fair distance away from where they were and then turned back down a western-leading road toward a side gate.

The guards looked them both up and down. Asnea looked no different from any other traveler coming through, and in such, it meant the town guard would not recognize her.

They went past the center circle of the city and headed east down a small road.

Targets for archery and numerous wooden weapons in a rack lay against a far stone wall. To the right was a rocky outcropping where the brook that ran through the center of the town turned and disappeared under the wall. It was there that tall wooden racks held metal cages swinging in the wind.

“Not only a place for prisoners,” Asnea said, “but this is also a training ground for the guards and even the militia of the town. There has been talk of rebellion of late.”

“A common theme in the world, it seems,” he told her.

In the cages above hunched an emancipated older man, his bones showing through skeletal thin skin. Flies buzzed around him, and with the wind gusting around his flesh, a rotting smell infiltrated their senses.

It was in the cage to the left that they found Sviska.

Doing much better than his companion, he was alert and staring into the skies. He still wore his robes and clothing, but they knew not his condition.

"Sviska!" Garoa shouted.

He looked down at them, his tired eyes opening slowly.

"Go."

"Go? What do you mean ‘go’? We need to get you out."

Asnea and Garoa looked around the area. There were no ladders, crates, or other climbing implements to reach him. At first glance, it was clear that there was no intent to either hold for

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