Horsemen's War (The Rebellion Chronicles #3) - Steve McHugh Page 0,91

what we’re going to do next,” Remy said. “I don’t think they’re going to just let us stay here.”

“My people are in cages and have been for who knows how long.” Zamek said. “We will free them.”

“And then what?” Mordred asked. “Not to be pragmatic, but we free a bunch of slaves who have lived here for who knows how long, and then what do we do with them? Leave them here while we go kill Arthur? Tell them to head back to the realm gate?”

“They’re warriors,” Zamek said. “They will fight.”

“They might,” Irkalla said. “But slaves aren’t known for being kept in good conditions at the best of times. If they fight, if they really want to, then fine, but I think you’ll find a lot of them aren’t up to it no matter how much they want to. We go and free them, we’ve got to leave them here until we can sort out safe passage out of here.”

Zamek nodded, although he clearly didn’t like the idea. “We save them; we come back for them.”

“Any other way is going to get them killed,” Diana said sadly. “Those who can fight, fight, or stay and defend those who can’t, but there must be several thousand dwarves in that prison.”

“Yes,” Mordred agreed. “And we don’t know exactly what’s waiting for us down there. This isn’t going to be a fun time.”

“We must do this,” Zamek said.

Mordred looked out of the hole at the prison. “Right, so we need help.” He looked left and right. “Zamek, Diana, Lucifer, you head to the left. See if you can find anyone who might be able to give us a hand. Stay low—the guards aren’t on this floor, but I’m getting the feeling that’s not normal.”

“And what plan do you have for us?” Remy asked as he stood beside Irkalla.

“We go right and do the same thing,” Mordred said.

“I was hoping to cause mayhem,” Remy said.

“Mayhem will come,” Irkalla said. “It always does.”

Remy smiled. “Yeah, that makes me feel a bit better.”

Mordred, Irkalla, and Remy moved to the right of the opening. They crept along, stopping every few feet to take a look over the rock formation that doubled as a banister, keeping them from a nasty drop.

“The guards are just milling around,” Remy said. “It’s like an illusion of patrolling.”

“They’re waiting for us,” Irkalla said.

They continued on until they reached the first cells on the top floor. The cells were fifteen feet square and contained mattresses and two buckets, and that was about it. Three dwarves lay inside the first cage, which Mordred noticed had runes burned into the floor.

“Hey,” Mordred said in Dwarvish. “Any chance any of you want to get out of here?”

One of the dwarves sat up. It was impossible to know his age, due to the amount of grime on any part of his face that wasn’t a massive beard.

“Get away,” he snapped. “Is it not enough that you beat us, make us work night and day? You have to toy with us too?”

“Seriously, take a long hard look at me,” Remy said. “I’m half-fox. Do you see a lot of half foxes running around the place?”

The dwarf looked confused.

“My name is Mordred,” Mordred said. “This is Remy and Irkalla. We’re here to . . . well, rescue you.”

“My name is Dethian,” the dwarf whispered as the others in his cell stirred. “I have been here a long time. They freeze us, keep us that way for centuries, bringing us out to work for them before putting us back.”

“How long have you been out?” Irkalla asked.

“A few years, I think. Some have been out decades, some longer. Most go back under if they don’t die first after a few decades.”

“How many die first?” Mordred asked, trying his best to keep his temper in check.

“There were thousands of us,” Dethian said. “After the blood elves came, many of us fled to Valhalla, but the majority of us—those who had access to the realm gate in the citadel—we came to Atlantis, but it was a trap. We were slaughtered, imprisoned, forced to build and create. Forced to make this realm into Arthur’s military base. Many died during those first few centuries, before they started putting us in stasis.”

Mordred looked over the top of the low wall they were crouched behind and watched the floor of the prison below. “Something is happening,” he said.

Remy and Irkalla looked down, too, at the soldiers, who were moving to the sides of the prison and