143 - Trust Me
The stone groaned as Dana and Div pushed the heavy door open, revealing the faint, flickering, amber light of a mundane torch hanging on the wall. From where they stood, they could only see an empty corner of the room.
"Who goes there?" Hurried footsteps approached.
"It's fine. I know them."
Div didn't need help to recognize it was Lugsellos' voice. Without waiting, he stepped inside.
"Div, Dana, close the door behind you. Will you?" Lugsellos asked.
After going around and pushing the door closed, Div and Dana turned to inspect the rest of the room. Or rather, the corridor. Flanked by rows of heavy wooden doors, it extended further than they could see.
Div frowned. Those were cells, and there were people inside. Not in the best shape.
"Come on, Div," Lugsellos said, coming out of a cell flanked by two Trabinite warriors. "You knew this place was a dungeon. You knew what I was doing there. Don't pretend to be surprised."
Div exhaled. After what he did in front of the builder's base, he couldn't bring himself to be critical of Lugsellos.
"We came to look for you," he said. "After the council building exploded, we were worried about you."
"I know. As you can see, things are somewhat under control."
"Somewhat?"
Lugsellos grimaced. "We didn't dare to go upstairs. So we don't really know what's going on outside. At least, no one has tried to breach the door, so I assume we're not completely doomed. Although, now that I read your emotions, I might have to reevaluate the situation."
"I mean," Dana started. "It's not ideal."
Lugsellos rubbed his temples as Div and Dana explained everything.
"We need to go out and fight," one of the warriors said. "There's no point in staying holed up here."
"I agree," the other nodded. "Let's move."
"Wait," Lugsellos raised his hand. "If the elders are truly elsewhere, I agree that we should help. But, we can't leave our prisoners alone."
The first warrior frowned. "Then, what do you suggest we do?"
"The ones held here are all mountaineers," Lugsellos said, slowly. "If we don't want them joining the fight, there's only one way to go about things."
"Killing them," Div said.
"Exactly."
Dana shook her head. "This sets a bad precedent. We don't want them to execute prisoners from our side. Also, you're not the one who should make this kind of decision."
"Who else?" Lugsellos asked.
"Your elders? The commanders of the allied armies?" Dana suggested. "This is a serious matter, Lugsellos."
The second warrior shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the cells where pale faces peered from behind bars. "If we take them with us, they'll just slow us down. If we leave them, they'll break out eventually."
"They won't break out," Dana said. "The locks are solid."
Lugsellos gave her a flat look. "You think so? Working a lock isn't that hard. That's why we guard the cells."
"Then bind them," Dana insisted. "Or at least choose the ones who are the real threat."
"None of them are harmless," Lugsellos replied. "If you want to haul them to the surface with ropes around their throats, be my guest. But if I go up there, I'm not dragging twenty prisoners behind me."
The air in the corridor was already sour with sweat and damp stone, but now it felt heavier. Div's fingers twitched near his sword hilt. "We don't have time for this. Outside is a war zone. If we waste more minutes debating, we'll be joining these people in the dark for good."
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Lugsellos exhaled through his nose. "Fine. Bind them. Quick. But we're not taking them with us. Let's leave it up to fate. Maybe no one will come for them."
The warriors moved, muttering, unlocking doors one by one. There were protests, curses, some in their language that Div didn't know. A few mountaineers tried to lunge at their captors, but were shoved back with spear butts. Others just slumped in resignation, eyes full of hate.
Dana didn't help with the binding. She stood by the wall, jaw tight, watching. Div wasn't sure if it was judgment or just exhaustion.
When the last knot was tied and the last gag tightened, the corridor had gone eerily quiet. The prisoners were reduced to muffled breathing and the occasional shuffle of bound feet. The Trabinite warriors double-checked the knots, then stepped back, satisfied enough to leave them.
"They won't be going anywhere," one of them muttered.
"They'd better not," Lugsellos said. He gave the line of captives a final, unreadable look before turning toward the stairwell. "Up. Stay alert."
The steps creaked under their weight as they climbed, the torchlight fading behind them. The air grew warmer with each level, and with the warmth came the sounds. First distant shouts, then the clash of weapons, then the ugly percussion of close fighting. The smell of smoke and blood seeped in before they reached the top.
At the final step, a wooden beam barred the heavy door to the surface. A warrior slid it free and eased the door open just enough to peer through. His jaw tightened.
"They're everywhere," he said. "Trabinites, Kheironites, mountaineers. No clear front. I can't see more, the view is blocked by the debris of the council building."
"We're already lucky the way out isn't obstructed," Lugsellos said. "Any mountaineers nearby?"
The man nodded grimly. "Too many."
"Figures." Lugsellos stepped forward. "Open it. We're not dying in a dungeon."
The door swung wide. The ruins of the building they were supposed to be in, heat from burning rooftops, smoke curling low enough to sting the eyes, bodies sprawled in the gutter. Shouts and screams bounced off the stone façades. Across the intersection, a group of Trabinite warriors tried to hold a corner against a surge of mountaineers, their formation already buckling.
Dana's gaze swept the chaos. "We're too late. They've already poured in."
"That's obvious," Lugsellos said. "The question is where to strike."
"Strike?" she snapped. "We're outnumbered. We should be pulling people back, not running into—"
"Trust me," he cut in.
Before she could retort, three mountaineers spotted them and charged. The Trabinite warriors moved instantly, forming a wedge. Spears thrust, shields slammed forward, and in seconds the street was slick again. Div was moving before he thought. Kneeling down to grab a random spear lying on the ground, he thrust it toward a mountaineer driving into the attacker's chest. The man fell, didn't get up.
"Lug! Let's get away from here," Div said.
They pushed on, weaving between burning carts and collapsed walls. Every block was a brawl. Archers firing from windows, fighters grappling in the mud, wounded crying out from the shadows. The smoke made it hard to see more than a dozen paces ahead.
By the time they reached a plaza Div barely recognized, Div's arms ached from swinging his spear. The scene there was worse. The fountain at the center was cracked and dry, its basin choked with bodies. Trabinite and Kheironite lines fought to hold three of the streets feeding into the square, but the fourth was open, mountaineers pouring through unchecked.
"This is it," Lugsellos said, scanning the chaos. "We hold the plaza."
Div stared at him. "Hold it? For how long? And why?"
"Long enough," he replied, already moving toward the exposed street. "You know reinforcements from the south are coming."
There was no time for argument. The next wave was already coming. Div joined the line, the press of warriors on either side grounding him in the grim rhythm of battle. The mountaineers hit hard, all roars and brute force, but the defenders met them with steel and stubbornness. Div lost track of the count. Strike, block, shove, kill.
Every so often, when he caught a breath, he cast a simple Turn upon a nearby enemy. Not the spreading version. That one was too unstable to unleash among allies.
Through the crush, he caught glimpses of Lugsellos. His friend was standing behind him quietly, nocking arrow after arrow. His presence radiated confidence to the point that, despite knowing about Empathic Resonance, Div started to believe they would hold.
The line bent, then bent again. Every step back smeared more blood underfoot. Div's arms felt carved from stone, his breath rasping in his throat.
The mountaineers didn't shout, they pressed forward in near silence now, eyes fixed, blades wet. It was worse than the noise.
"Shields up!" someone roared, but the voice was swallowed in the crush. A Trabinite to Div's left took an axe in the ribs; he folded without a sound, the gap in the line instantly filled by another man who lasted barely three heartbeats.
Div risked a glance. Dana was still on her feet in the back, firing arrows. Her face was grim, a cut spread across her cheek, leaking crimson. Behind them, the plaza had filled with the wounded and the dying. There was nowhere to fall back to.
"Hold!" Lugsellos called, his voice cutting through the heat and stink. "Hold or we break!"
A mountaineer slammed into Div's shield, driving him to one knee. He shoved back, teeth bared, only to see more shapes pushing through the smoke, more than he could count.
The press tightened. The air stank of blood and iron. The thought hit Div.
They were about to be swallowed whole.