Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [109]
Tyveris glared at her. Then his shoulders slumped. Again, the thief was right. He couldn't turn his back on the prisoners. No, he had to trust that Man, Caledan, and the others could take care of themselves. He had his own job to do now.
"All right," he said gruffly. "We'll go on as planned, without Mari. But I'm not much of a warrior nowadays, Kyana. You're going to have to take charge."
"Oh, no, you don't," Kyana said slyly. "They're looking to you, monk, not me." All faces turned expectantly toward Tyveris.
He swallowed hard. I will lead them, but I will not kill, he vowed inwardly. I gave you my promise, Tali, my sister. I promised you there would be no more killing.
"All right, then," he growled. "Let's go."
Despite the weeks and even months each of them had spent laboring beneath the Tor, the cityfolk moved with a speed and energy that amazed Tyveris. With Kyana and Talim scouting ahead, they made their way past the slime-covered walls of the corridor, toward the heart of the dungeon. They moved as stealthily as they could, with the brave, though pale and haggard, faces of people determined to win their freedom or die.
The group came to a corridor leading off to a block of cells, and Talim and Kyana swiftly picked the locks on the iron doors. Tyveris quickly explained to the newly-freed prisoners what they intended to do. "If you do not wish, you do not have to come with us," the loremaster said. When they left the block, however, not a prisoner chose to remain behind.
It was at the next block of cells that they encountered several guards, three dungeon warders, gambling with dice of polished bone. The first two died before they realized what was transpiring, one with Kyana's saber in his heart, the other with Talim's dagger in his back. The third tried to shout an alarm as he scrambled for his sword, but his cry was strangled into silence as a trio of crossbow bolts buried themselves in his throat and chest.
Tyveris whirled in surprise to see three of the cityfolk reloading their crossbows. He reminded himself not to underestimate these courageous people.
One of the guards had a ring of keys at his belt, and these made the task of freeing the prisoners quicker. The thieves of the Purple Masks Guild had hidden several caches of weapons in lesser-used parts of the dungeon, and one of these was nearby. Soon Tyveris found he had over a hundred cityfolk crowding the corridor behind him, each with a weapon in hand, be it sword, knife, cudgel, or crossbow. Some of the cityfolk were but children, others were gray and weathered. There were as many women as men. All of them were ready to fight, and none were afraid to die.
One of the prisoners, an older woman with steel-gray hair and eyes to match, said something when Tyveris helped her from her cell that seemed to speak for all the cityfolk. "The wheel is turning," she said in her worn voice. "The captors become the captives, and the prisoners fly free once again. If one soul perishes in the wheel's turning, such is the way of things. The wheel cannot be stopped. We must shed our tears, and then go on."
And go on they did.
"We need to be even more careful now," Kyana said to Tyveris as once again they started down the corridor. "The dungeon's central chamber is not far ahead. That's where there are likely to be the most Zhentarim."
"'How many?" Tyveris asked gravely.
"According to Ferret's reports, at least a score of them," Kyana said. "The numbers are on our side."
They encountered another pair of guards as they approached the central chamber, but the cityfolk dispatched them swiftly and silently. Tyveris motioned for the prisoners to hang back while he, Kyana, and Talim crept forward toward the glow of torches.
From Ferret's reports, they knew that most of the cell blocks were arranged around the dungeon's central chamber almost like the spokes of a wheel. Tyveris and the two thieves moved silently as they approached the