"The oddest of places should not include eating your friends."
"Perhaps they weren't friends."
"I don't know if that makes it better or worse."
"There are innumerable horrifying things done in the world," Skharr pointed out. "And sometimes for reasons that are far less horrifying than the actions themselves. For the moment, however, you should keep your mind on the task at hand."
"What task? They're all dead in here. The only problem we'll have now is to find a way to buy our boat back from the godsbedammed orcs."
"For some, this is the most dangerous part of an attack," the barbarian insisted. "When your spirits are high with victory and thoughts of what you'll do with your newly-acquired coin fill your mind. It makes it the most dangerous moment, as something might assail you when your guard is down."
Brahgen shrugged. "What could attack us here? The lizardfolk are still keeping their distance and between you and me, they likely won't be a problem for the orcs or us anytime soon. Hey, do you think we might be able to leverage that into making them return our boat to us?"
"Dwarf—"
"Hell, for those kinds of heroics, we might be able to talk them into giving us the finest ship of their fleet."
Skharr stopped and peered ahead. They had reached a point in the tunnel where he could see where they had come from and interestingly enough, they didn't need a torch to navigate like they had before. Light streamed in from somewhere—a light that hadn't been there earlier.
"The sun is out!" Brahgen laughed and shook his head. "The mist the hags had created over this island has been blown away and the sun is shining through for the first time in…shall we say years? I think we can say years."
The barbarian narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the tunnel.
"Hells, we might be able to convince the orcs to give us two ships. One for keeping the lizards away for good and another for bringing the sun back to their desolate shores. We might have a few songs written about this little caper yet—if orcs were known for writing music, of course."
Orc music was one thing he had never heard of, but his mind was on the entrance to the tunnel. Something about it unsettled him although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He continued to study the area as Brahgen advanced toward it without a second thought.
"I might simply write the song myself, you know? That way, I could make sure they get all the details right. Especially the detail about how I saved your life.”
Skharr suddenly realized what unsettled him. A gleam was reflected through the tunnel that didn’t quite match the stones. It meant only one thing and the dwarf walked directly toward it.
"Look out!"
He rushed forward but something sprang against his boot, followed quickly by a click.
In that moment, three sharp pricks touched his neck. A few more struck his chest and he looked down at two thin darts that had pierced through his shirt and into the skin beneath.
They weren’t deep enough to wound but he could already feel something swimming in the back of his head as another three pricks stuck him in the ass.
The effects were stronger than before and he wavered and leaned against the wall of the cavern as he shook his head.
"Look….look…" He struggled to recall what he had wanted to say.
"Shit!" Brahgen jumped away. "I'll get some help—hold on!"
The barbarian wanted to warn him but the words froze on his tongue as he dropped to his knees. Helpless, he could only watch as the dwarf reached the end of the tunnel and a net was cast over him.
All energy left his limbs and he planted face-first onto the ground.
"Not fucking again," he muttered before the world turned black.
Chapter Thirteen
Brahgen had no idea what he had expected to do. The orcs were already gone and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to help Skharr himself. But something had to be done and he had still been full of his previous success in the cave.
Racing out had seemed like such a good idea before a net closed around him. He hadn't thought about who might have set the trap that caught his companion before he acted. Although perhaps that wouldn't have made much of a difference given that they had traps both within and without the tunnel.
All he knew was that a net had been thrown over his head and he now struggled to reach the dagger at his waist.
There was movement all around him, and he thought for a moment that the lizardfolk were attacking, even though they were no longer under the control of the dead hags.
But the sight of weapons and armor around him told him unequivocally that all was not well, and the primitive reptile creatures had certainly not arranged the traps that caught both him and Skharr.
He began to hack at the mesh around him and even managed to pull it away from where it restricted his movement. Moments later, he felt a rush of elation when he escaped it entirely and crawled out from under it, but he realized he was still surrounded by a group of humans, all with their weapons trained on him.
"Drop the weapon!" one of them shouted. He was the only one not wearing his helm and the dwarf wondered if his long, golden locks were the reason.
"Come and take it!" Brahgen snapped in return as two sword-wielding mercenaries advanced on him.
He lunged forward, ducked under one of the swords, and slashed an attacker's arm. Any thoughts that he was in a position to win the fight were put to rest, however, when pain seared across his leg. He looked down and grimaced when he realized that one of the swords had opened a shallow gash in his thigh, and it was quickly followed by a rapid blow across the jaw with the pommel of the second man’s weapon.
Almost before he could blink, Brahgen was on the ground with the dagger forced from his fingers before his hands were yanked roughly behind his back.
What did surprise him was that once his hands were bound, one of the men approached with what was clearly a healing potion and dabbed it lightly over the wound. It stung like he was being attacked by a dozen bees, but as he twisted to see what was happening, the gash began to heal quickly and left only a splotch of bright pink skin.
"What…what are you doing?"
The golden-haired mercenary chuckled and lowered onto his haunches next to the dwarf. "We need to make sure our product arrives alive. There’s no point in you developing an infection and dying along the way before we deliver you."
"Deliver me to who?"
The man ignored his question and looked at the rest of the men. "Go on in and make sure the bastard barbarian is dead. Bring me his ax and his head."
"Why his ax?"
That question did catch the man's attention and he focused on the fallen dwarf.
"It is said that he spent a fortune having it made. It would be a waste to leave a weapon like that to rust in an abandoned dungeon in a forgotten corner of the world. While dwarves generally tend to resemble little more than stacked shit, your single redeeming quality is your work with steel."
Brahgen grinned and was unable to stop himself from laughing as the other mercenaries looked at him curiously.
"Oh… You're serious." The dwarf cleared his throat and shifted until he was in a more comfortable position. "You are doomed to disappointment, then. My uncle saw to it that they would transport it far away from here in exchange for his escorting me to my family."