Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued
Ok...well here's the first half of the conclusion. I wanted to get it posted so I at least have something posted today. I will continue to work on the second half of the conclusion while working. Hopefully I'll get that posted for you guys & gals too.
P.S. Sorry it seems short.
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“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” The old slave was crying profusely, half from joy, half from the sting of the midday sun. His arms were outstretched and he embraced the warm earth. A wide smile spread across Tobias’ exhausted face.
The war drums had started again not so long after they had fled. At first it seemed the war drums were pursuing, but perhaps it had been a trick of the caverns. After an hour, the war drums did not seem to be edging closer. The timbre and tempo of the drums sounded more of a funeral procession than of a call to arms anyway.
The return climb had been more difficult with the added weight of the man. He had been starved and had not the energy or skill to make the climb on his own. The Heroes had strung him up cautiously and carefully, distributing the slight weight evenly. Motega had supervised the tying, had actually named it the “Rorn hog-tie”. They had modified it, of course, for comfort and so the burden was shared.
And once the ascension was complete, what little energy the foursome had went to re-sealing the well with the half-ton wooden door. Now, they stood or lay collecting the preciously warming rays of the summer sun. For fear of the old man losing his sight, they rose again. And dragged him into the nearby room which had been used as a Scorpiot burial chamber. Here, the light was more dim and would not burn quite so harshly.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Magnus began, “could you tell us how you came to be a slave?”
The man’s head dipped a little before he began to speak. “I, well I should begin with my name. I am Buric Godrinson. I don’t know how long I was done there,” his voice stammered and dropped. “I know it was at least a decade. I lost count long ago.
“I was a farmer outside of the town of Andorric’s Steps. My father owned the farm and his age was starting to wear on his health. So, I, his oldest son only in my early twenties had taken the responsibility of running his farm.
“It was a day like any other, I had risen early to tend the cattle. The cattle were out grazing in the fields and I had turned to my other responsibilities.” The old man paused to scratch his beard, attempting to stimulate the now nearly lost memories. “I’m not sure what happened. I must’ve fallen asleep or been knocked out. The next time I opened my eyes, it was in that dark barren hell. And I’ve been made to suffer since. They beat for pleasure and out of anger.
“I thought once that they meant to actually kill me. Lucky for me, I managed to figure out that grunting they call speaking. If I hadn’t…they…they.” Tears again flooded down his face and his head dropped onto his shoulders. Tobias’ hand patted him comfortingly on his shoulder.
“Well, Buric, you’ll be safe now.” Magnus proclaimed. “After all, you are in the car of the Heroes of Marchford.” His youthful smile nearly split his head in half. “We should decide our next steps fellas.” They provided the man with food and turned to exit.
“Could you take me home?” His eyes pleaded.
“To Andorric’s Steps?” A cloud of emotion crossed Tobias’ face and his voice became colder. “We’ll discuss it.”