Chapter 14 - Two Prisoners Meet

Andres stood for a moment, feeling completely alone. He heard the door slam above him, covering the hole from which he’d been lowered. The noise of the clanging door seemed to reverberate for hours. And once the noise faded away, Andres was enveloped in complete darkness. He squinted up toward the ceiling, hoping to see some semblance of a ray of light shining through. But there was nothing. He held his hand up in front of his face and wiggled his fingers. He could see nothing.

This was, as you can imagine, a very unpleasant experience for Andres. He hated total darkness. The only times he spent in the dark were at home in his bedroom at night, but Cable was always there with him. Now he was alone in a musty dungeon with no hope of escape. He didn’t even have a snack in his pocket. He didn’t know when, or if, he would ever eat again. Being alone was bad, but being alone and hungry...well, that was really bad.

Andres figured he’d try and figure out what kind of place he was in. So he took one step forward. His right foot immediately landed on something squishy. He knelt down and felt something furry under his foot. He moved his hand to the right and felt a tail. Yes, he’d stepped on a rat. He was afraid that might happen. He whipped the rat through the air and almost immediately heart a splat on a wall. Well, if the rat wasn’t dead after Andres stepped on him, he’d surely be dead now.

Suddenly Andres didn’t feel much like walking around. He’d probably just end up stepping on more rats, and besides--in the dark, all places pretty much look the same. So he just sat down. It was a cobblestone floor of sorts, and it was very uneven. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to sleep on it. Oh well, at least Slumbutter was kind enough to give them some kind of surface for the dungeon. It could have been dirt.

Andres then began to mull over his strange encounter with the lady. What was it she said when he first got there? Cantankerous, ornery rebels never ever repent. What was that supposed to mean? Andres knew what “ornery” meant, because his parents had used the word often to describe him. But he had never heard of the word “cantankerous” before. Still, he was pretty sure it had to mean something bad. If he ever saw Cable again, he’d ask him. Cable knew all those long words.

The odd thing was, even though the lady had said something that might be kind of mean, she was not a mean lady at all. In fact, she’d been very nice to him. Why would she call him an ornery rebel at the same time that she was trying to help him?

Then Andres thought of the other things she’d talked about. She seemed to constantly repeat herself. She had said “remember many things” a few times. Why did he need to remember anything down in prison? Maybe she just figured that he needed something to keep his mind occupied while he starved to death. That was kind of her.

And what was the business about someone being “carried on our new eastern road”? That was the strangest thing of all. She’d said that Andres’ heart was there. No, she was wrong. Andres’ heart was not anywhere in this horrible place. It was back home. He just wanted to be back home.

At this point, Andres started to cry.

It was a silent cry, because he didn’t dare to make much noise in the darkness. Besides, he didn’t figure that it would make much difference if he cried very loudly. No one would hear him. And even if someone did hear him, they certainly wouldn’t care. In the silence, Andres’ tears streamed down his cheeks and onto the floor.

Whooooo...whooooo...

The hoot of an owl suddenly pierced the silence. Andres immediately stood to his feet. He’d heard that call before. It was the call that had summoned them on their quest four years ago, and it was the call that had directed them every step of the way. It was the call of the messenger of the High King. And that call--that simple call, here in the depths of Dor-ko’s prison--gave him a spark of hope.

Andres waited for a moment and listened again. This time the call was gentle, and off to his right. He stepped on more rats as he slowly made his way toward the sound. He felt around, expected to run into the wall at any moment. Finally he felt what he’d been longing for--the feathers of the messenger. Andres immediately squatted down and hugged the mysterious messenger. It was perhaps the most comforting hug that he’d ever experienced.

A faint glow then started to emerge from the owl. Andres immediately let go and took a step back. For the first time, there was light in the dungeon. It was not a bright light, but it was enough for Andres to see his surroundings. The cell was a perfect square, about 10 feet on each side at the bottom. However, the stone walls sloped toward the inside of the room as they went up toward the ceiling. It didn’t take Andres long to figure out why. The slope would keep anyone from being able to climb their way out.

Andres then looked at the floor. He counted about 25 rats lying down, apparently dead. That was strange. Andres figured this place must be rat heaven--cold and wet and dark. Why would they be dead?

Then he saw why.

In the corner of the room lay the body of a man. At first, Andres thought he might be dead. But as he stared at the man in the faint glow of the owl’s light, he saw his chest rising and falling. Somehow, the man had managed to find a way to sleep in this horrible place. In the man’s right hand was a little stick. That evidently was the implement of destruction that had been used to snuff out the lives of the rodents.

Andres turned toward the owl. The owl, however, didn’t even look at Andres. His face was turned toward the man in the corner. Andres, who was remarkably observant for a 14-year-old boy, quickly got the hint. He carefully stepped over to where the man lay. He squatted down beside the man and gently shook his shoulder.

The man, whose face was grimy and covered with a grizzly beard, sniffed a couple of times. Andres thought that was odd. The man then started talking without opening his eyes. “Babes, is that you?” he asked, still apparently asleep. “That smell...oh Babes, it’s been so long...”

Andres took a step back. He certainly hadn’t expected that reaction. “Uh...I’m afraid my name’s not ‘Babes’,” he said. As he spoke, the man slowly opened his eyes. As he did so, the light of the owl disappeared. Once again, Andres was enveloped in blackness.

“Hey, who is that?” asked the man, now apparently wide awake.

“Uh...my name is Andres,” replied Andres.

“Where did that smell come from?” asked the man. Andres heard the man stand up, and then he felt the man wrap his arms around him. He heard more sniffing. “That smell...I would recognize it anywhere! That is the smell of the perfume that my girlfriend always used to wear. Who are you? Where did you get that smell?” There was great urgency in his voice.

“Look, sir, I can’t imagine that I’ve met your girlfriend. As I said, my name is Andres, and I was...”

“Prince Andres?” asked the man. “Are you Andres, the son of King Maximilian?”

“Well, yes, not that it makes any difference here,” answered Andres.

“Those wretches have captured you too, eh?” asked the man, somewhat rhetorically. “Well, it must be because they’re trying to lure your father here. Well hey, it sure is nice to have some company. But tell me, where did you get that smell?”

Andres had almost forgotten about the spray of perfume he’d gotten before he was dispatched to the dungeon. “Some lady treated a wound of mine after I got to the castle. It was kind of strange. She called me a ‘cantankerifous ornery rebel’, or something like that, which seemed like a mean name. But she didn’t have a mean face. She actually seemed kind of helpful.”

“What did she look like?” asked the man.

“Well, all I noticed was that she had long dark hair. I don’t really notice much about girls. She seemed pretty enough, I guess.”

Andres’ words were followed by a few moments of silence. After that, Andres thought he heard some sobs coming from the man. It was a muted cry, but powerful. Andres immediately felt badly. “I’m sorry, sir. What did I say?”

“She lives!” cried out the man at the top of his voice. “You have given me the best news I’ve heard in four years. She lives!” Then Andres felt the man give him a great hug. After the emotional embrace, the man spoke once more. “I’m sorry, but I forgot to introduce myself. Prince Andres, my name is Gregorex. And I am so glad you are here.”

Chapter 13 - Into the Darkness

Andres’ journey with Chub and Pipes was seemingly interminable. With Chub as their fearful leader, they slowly crossed the Jagged Mountains, meandering around every hilltop and dashing for cover in every grove of trees in order to avoid detection by King Maximilian’s sentries. Finally, after another two days of arduous travel, they emerged from the mountains and descended onto a broad plain with gently rolling hills. The end of their journey was nigh. Andres looked over at Chub. He thought it looked like he’d lost a couple of chins, since they had eaten very little on their journey.

As they approached the crest of a hill, Andres detected a great stench in the air. He turned his head to the side and almost vomited. Andres’ body was as tough as nails, but his stomach was terribly sensitive. “What is that horrid smell?” he blurted out.

“That, my lucky punk, is the Castle of Dor-ko,” replied Chub. “And the good news is, you’ll get to spend the rest of your miserable life there! But don’t worry about the smell. You’ll get used to it. In fact, since you never actually take a bath in prison, you’ll end up blending in very nicely with the odor.”

“That’s very kind of you to put a nice face on it, Mr. Chub,” Andres replied. For some reason which he couldn’t quite explain, Andres was not terribly intimidated by his approaching fate. He had no idea how he was possibly going to escape, and the thought of going for years without getting clean was dreadful. But he knew that his father would not abandon him. And he also was confident that his father was more clever than Dor-ko and would not get lured into the trap. Though the circumstances looked grim, he was gradually learning that true hope came not from looking at his circumstances, but from trusting his father.

As the riders crested the hill, Chub abruptly turned around and blocked Andres’ view of the castle. Andres was curious to see what the castle looked like, but he realized that he had no hope of looking beyond Chub’s massive girth. Chub then pulled out a mask from his pocket. “All right, punk,” he said. “No one from outside gets to see the castle. Your head is going back under the mask. But don’t worry. It’ll be so dark when you’re in the prison, you won’t even notice that you’ve got a mask on.”

Andres played along without much of a fight. He let Chub put on the mask, and he didn’t try and run away. Although he could easily outrun Chub, he couldn’t outrun his arrows or his horse. And at this point, Andres figured that his best course of action was just to stay alive. So he continued to ride toward the stench-filled castle on the back of Pipes’ horse.

At this point, Andres had to rely on his hearing and smell to decipher what was going on. He noticed the smell getting stronger, from which he figured he was getting closer to the castle. He heard the horse trot over some hollow-sounding wooden planks, which made him think that he must be crossing over a drawbridge into the castle. He then heard a loud clank, which he took to be the sound of the castle gates closing behind them. Shortly after that, he heard Chub say, “All right, Pipes, take him to his new home. Don’t forget to kiss him goodnight!” The words were followed by that pathetic high-pitched laugh which was supposed to sound sinister but really sounded like an elephant sitting on top of a mischief of mice.

Andres felt the tree-trunk arms of Pipes lift him off the horse and onto the floor. Pipes then led him down a long hallway and up a set of stairs. Their footsteps echoed through the stairwell. Andres then made himself burp, just to hear what that kind of echo would sound like. It was just as loud as he’d hoped. He expected the get slapped in the side of the head by Pipes. But the slap never came. In fact, Andres thought that he might have heard Pipes chuckle just a little bit.

When they reached the top of the stairwell, they walked a little further down another hallway before Pipes grabbed Andres’ shoulder and stopped him. Andres heard Pipes knock on what sounded like a heavy wooden door. After a brief pause, the door slowly creaked open. Pipes’ voice then broke the silence. “Another nasty laborer for you to examine, m’lady,” he said.

“Another nasty laborer indeed, Pipes,” replied a very feminine voice. “Please show him inside.”

Andres was gently nudged into the room and escorted to a chair. Once he sat down, his mask was removed. Immediately his eyes were flooded with light, which blinded him momentarily while his eyes adjusted. But he was flooded by something else as well--he was flooded by perhaps the most sweet-swelling aroma that had ever penetrated his nostrils. It was so sweet that he could almost taste it. It was such a welcome relief from the stench of the rest of the castle that he couldn’t help but smile. “If this is my prison cell, then this isn’t so bad after all,” he declared.

“Don’t get too used to this, kid,” replied Pipes. Then his captor turned to the lady and said, “Chub beat him once or twice, m’lady. Perhaps you could dress his wounds before we place him in the dungeon.”

“I shall do what I can to prepare this poor boy for his captivity,” the lady replied. She then walked over to a wooden chest that lay in the corner of her small but bright room. The room had a great window that faced eastward, toward the Jagged Mountains. After spending a few days on the back of a horse, Andres enjoyed the chance to stare at something besides Pipes’ back.

The lady retrieved some towels and bandages and poured some water into a small basin. She then came over to where Andres was seated. As she gently washed Andres’ wounds, she said, “Cantankerous, ornery rebels never ever repent.” Then, shaking her head, she repeated herself: “Cantankerous, ornery rebels never ever repent.”

“Uh...I don’t get it,” blurted out Andres. He didn’t figure that he would get in trouble for speaking his mind. After all, he was about to get thrown in prison for the rest of his life. How much worse could it get, anyway?

The lady appeared to ignore him as she applied bandages to Andres’ neck and shoulder, in the area where Chub had struck him earlier. The lady had long dark hair, and her face was very pleasant. She was dressed in the rags of a servant girl. However, she carried herself with the dignity of royalty. She wore a gentle, unforced smile that seemed oddly out of place in this dark castle. As she worked, she continued to talk mysteriously in a soft and strangely comforting voice. “Will you be able to match them? Ah, you shall try to match them. And perhaps you shall match them. You have traveled far, and you remember many things. Yes, you remember many things. Now remember this: she is carried on our new eastern road. Yes, she is carried on our new eastern road. That is where your heart is, isn’t it?”

“Are you asking me?” replied Andres. He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t get it. What are you talking about?”

The lady put her index finger to her lips and smiled at Andres. “Don’t think, young man,” she answered. “I know who you are. You remember many things. Do not forget them as you go below. I implore you--do not forget them.” She then reached for a small bottle that lay on a nearby table. She sprayed it on the back of Andres’ neck. A strong smell promptly filled the room.

“Hey, did you just spray perfume on me?” asked Andres. This visit was getting stranger and stranger by the minute.

The lady gave Andres a hug and whispered in his ear, “Remember many things. Do not forget what I’ve said.” Then she handed him over to Pipes. Pipes placed the mask back on his head and escorted him out of the room.

Once they stepped into the hallway, Andres’ nostrils were filled with the horrific odors of the castle. All of the pleasant feelings that had surrounded him while in the strange lady’s room abruptly left, and he was filled with despair. He went back to the same stairwell and began to descend. He didn’t bother to burp this time. Any thoughts of humor had fled his soul.

After a seemingly interminable descent, Pipes led him down another hallway. The air seemed to be filled with dampness. Andres felt something scurry across his feet, and he leaped into the air. “Don’t worry, kid,” said Pipes. “It’s just a rat. Those critters will be your best friends in a few days.”

Finally they came to a halt. Pipes pulled the mask off Andres’ head. He saw that they were in a hallway whose only light was a solitary torch hanging on the wall. Next to the torch was a rope. Pipes went over and grabbed the rope. He then stooped down and grabbed a metal ring that protruded from the floor. He pulled upward, and Andres saw a small door pivot open. Below the door was nothing but blackness.

Pipes grabbed one end of the rope and tossed the other end into the hole. He motioned to Andres. “Go ahead and slide down, kid,” he said. He almost seemed apologetic as he spoke. “That is your new home.”

Andres swallowed hard as he obediently grabbed the rope and descended still further into the darkness.

Chapter 12 - En Route to Dor-ko's Prison

After Andres and his captors had plodded on for another hour or so, they were completely engulfed in darkness. Just a few flickering glimmers of moonlight penetrated through the thick canopy of the woods. The pace got slower as the horses struggled to follow the barely-visible path. Finally Andres heard Chub’s whiny, high-pitched voice cut through the darkness. “Let’s hold up, Pipes,” he said. “We should probably get some rest.”

Without saying a word in reply, Pipes halted his horse and dismounted. Andres tried to move as well, but every muscle was sore from his hours of fighting and riding. He wiggled a little, but his legs didn’t seem to want to do what his brain was instructing them to do. Then, to his surprise, he felt an arm reach up and gently grab him around the waist. “Let me give you a hand,” said Pipes. The man with the tree-trunk arms then lowered him to the ground. Andres was grateful for the help.

Andres was famished, but he didn’t dare to ask for anything. So he just crawled over to the foot of a nearby tree and felt some moss. Figuring that it would make a nice bed, Andres laid his head down on a protruding root and started to close his eyes. But just before his eyelids were shut tight, he saw a big blob moving toward him in the darkness. As he feared, it was Chub. “We’d better tie this punk up,” he whined. “We don’t want to take any chances.” Andres didn’t even have the energy to try and resist.

But just as the thug was about to reach down and tie his feet together, Andres saw another arm shoot out of the darkness. It was Pipes, and his massive hand quickly wrapped itself around Chub’s flabby arm. “Hey Chub, don’t you think the kid’s been through enough?” he asked. “I mean, think about it, Chub. Where is he going to run? Where would you run, if you could even get your lazy body to move that fast?”

Andres heard a grunt. As he continued to peer through the darkness, he saw the blob start to move back in the opposite direction. He then heard Chub’s voice call out, “All right, Pipes, have it your way. But if he gets away, Dor-ko will have your head on a silver platter. Don’t think you can cross me and just get away with it!” Andres then felt the ground shake a little bit as Chub hit the ground. Within seconds, loud snoring enveloped their little campsite.

Just as Andres was about to descend into unconsciousness, he felt a hand gently shake his shoulder. Andres looked up and once again saw Pipes. “Here, take this,” he said as he stuffed something into Andres’ right hand. Andres knew immediately from the smell that it was a piece of smoked venison. Before Andres could express his thanks, Pipes continued. “Let me just tell you this, Andres. Chub can be a real helpful guy if you just get him talking. Now don’t say a word and get some sleep.” With those words, Pipes released Andres’ shoulder and went away.

Andres was amazed at the apparent friendliness of Pipes. As far as kidnappers went, he was a pretty nice guy. Andres nibbled on his venison and made it last as long as his empty stomach would allow him. Then he went to sleep. Andres was never one to let awkward or uncomfortable circumstances prevent him from getting some shut-eye. He could sleep anywhere.

*********************

The next day, Andres continued his journey atop Pipes’ horse, riding behind his captor. It wasn’t long before they veered off to the right. Within a couple of hours, they began to emerge from the woods and enter the western highlands. Andres got his bearings and figured out that they were departing from the southern woods and emerging into the Jagged Mountains. From everything he’d heard, Slumbutter and Dor-ko had established a stronghold on the other side of these mountains, which bordered the kingdom of Aberdeen to the west. In other words, he was headed straight into the heart of enemy territory.

However, it seemed to Andres that the route they were taking was extremely circuitous. They seemed to avoid any high points or open areas, choosing instead to skirt around every hilltop. Although trees were fairly scarce in the Jagged Mountains, Chub was constantly looking to direct their path through any patches of woods that might be available. And even more strangely, if they came to a high point that they simply couldn’t skirt around, Chub would duck his head and ride as low as he could, as though hiding. Andres was amused. Chub’s body was so massive that he couldn’t really camouflage his presence, no matter what he did. Interestingly, Pipes did not join Chub in his furtive movements. He always sat tall atop the horse.

As the day wore on, Andres grew weary of the constant twists and turns. Finally, he blurted out, “Hey Chub, what’s with this constant dodging and weaving? Why can’t we just go in a straight line and get through these mountains? I’m getting horse-sick back here!”

Chub stopped immediately. He hopped off his horse; Andres could have sworn that he set off a mild earthquake as he hit the ground. He then grabbed a stick that was lying by his horse’s feet and waddled over to Andres. His face was red and his lips were creased tight. Without saying a word, he drew back as though the strike Andres in the head. Andres closed his eyes and braced for the blow.

But the blow never came. Instead, when Andres opened his eyes, he saw that Pipes had reached around and caught the stick. “Look, Chub, let’s just keep going,” Pipes said. “I know the kid is annoying, but our orders were to bring him back alive. If we kill him, we’ll be in trouble. And if we wound him--well, it’s a lot of blood that we’ll have to clean up, and you know how messy blood can be. So let’s just keep going.” Then Pipes turned to Andres and said, “Hey kid, why don’t you tell him you’re sorry?” He winked at Andres as he did so.

Then Andres remembered Pipes strange words from the night before, about how helpful Chub could be if he just got him talking. So Andres swallowed his pride and said, “I’m real sorry, Mr. Chub. I’ll be quiet now, more or less, if that’s what you want.” Chub’s anger seemed to abate somewhat, and he returned to his horse. The journey resumed.

Andres decided to pursue his attempt to get Chub to talk. He might gain some information, and anyway it would help pass the time. So he said, “Hey Mr. Chub, I just want you to know something. You’re one of the bravest and cleverest kidnappers I’ve ever met. I...well, it is an honor to be the captive of such a great and noble villain.” It almost made Andres throw up to have to say it, but he needed to find some way to get the conversation rolling.

After a moment’s pause, Chub spoke up. “Well, I’m glad you recognize greatness when you see it!” he declared. “I’ve been doing this pretty much my whole life, so I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” Then he softened his voice and said, “To be honest, everyone says I’m very intimidating.”

Andres decided to play along. “Oh yes, that’s true. I think I’d be less scared if a herd of elephants came roaring at me that I would be if you came after me. There is no doubt: you are Mr. Intimidation.”

Chub seemed to swell with pride. “That’s a great name for me, punk. Yep, I’m ‘Mr. Intimidation’. Kids tremble at the sound of my name. It’s true.”

“They don’t even need to hear your name, Mr. Chub,” continued Andres. “They’ll tremble at the rumble of your footsteps.”

A smile of satisfaction came across Chub’s tiny little face. Then he spoke again. “Look punk, do you know where we professional kidnappers and highly-esteemed villains are taking you?”

“I’ve got no idea,” replied Andres. “You keep such good secrets.”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Chub. “You are heading to Dor-ko’s prison. We’ve got a special cell prepared for you. It is dark and damp with lots of rats scurrying around the floor. In fact, the sunlight never reaches this cell.”

“Oh my,” said Andres. “You must have saved that for me because I’m so dangerous. Thanks for thinking of me. I’m flattered.”

“Let me tell you something else,” continued Chub. “This cell has only one way in--through the ceiling. And there is no way out. Dor-ko threw away the key years ago. So once you get there, you will never get out.”

Andres tried to keep his panic in check. “Why are you saving such a special cell for little old me?” he managed to ask.

“Well, I guess I can tell you, since you’re going to prison for the rest of your pathetic little life. You see, Slumbutter and Dor-ko are planning an attack on Aberdeen. That’s why we captured you! Your father knows that our stronghold is on the other side of the Jagged Mountains. As soon as he discovers you are missing, he’ll gather together his army and try to save you. But while he’s gathering his army and heading west across the Jagged Mountains, guess what?”

There was an awkward pause. Andres realized that Chub was prompting him to answer. “Uh, what, Mr. Chub?” he said at last.

“Ah ha, this is just part of the trap! As your father and his army of white knights heads west, we will actually be secretly on the march through the southern woods. Even now, our great lumberjacks are slashing a road through the woods. Within days, that road will be complete. Our marvellous and fearless army will then march through the woods, cross Freedom Pass, and ultimately attack your castle from the south. Yes, we will attack from the south...the direction that no one thought possible!” At this point, Chub’s squeaky voice rose to a feverish pitch. “We will surprise everyone and attack the castle while it is completely unprotected! And then the kingdom will be ours! Ha ha haaaaa!”

As Chub’s goofy laugh trailed off, Andres thought of another question. “O great mastermind of kidnapping, let me ask you something else. Why are we taking such a roundabout route through these mountains?”

Chub replied by saying, “Don’t you know? Your father has sentries posted throughout the mountains. We’re simply trying to avoid detection.”

“But Mr. Chub, you are so brave and cunning,” Andres said. “I’m sure if someone spotted you, they wouldn’t dare to attack. From everything I’ve heard, whenever a sentry catches sight of you, he just goes into hiding because of your fearsome presence. Surely a mighty warrior like yourself doesn’t need to fear some simple-minded sentry.”

Chub thought about that for a minute. Andres noticed Chub’s head nodding up and down. Finally, Chub piped up and said, “You’re right, punk. I don’t gotta be afraid of nobody. After all, I’m Chub, the fearless and mighty kidnapper!” And with that, the riders resumed a more direct course through the mountains.

Chapter 11 - The Captive

When we last left Andres, he was flying through the air with his head covered, preparing for a very hard landing from which he’d likely never recover. He hated being masked, because his sense of touch was not particularly acute. That was a good thing when it came to dueling, because a jab to the ribs or a sideswipe to the head didn’t faze him too much. But it wasn’t handy right now, because he just couldn’t figure out what was going on. If he was going to be dashed to pieces on a cobblestone patio, he’d like to meet his demise head-on.

To his rather pleasant surprise, he wasn’t dashed to pieces at all. Instead, he felt like he’d landed on two soft tree trunks, as odd as that might seem. Then he felt as though the tree trunks moved and tossed him onto a fuzzy rock. While he lay on this fuzzy rock, his hands and his feet were tied, thus further limiting his ability to feel out what was going on. Then the fuzzy rock on which he was laying rose up, moved forward and started bouncing around.

If this doesn’t particularly make any sense to you, it’s because it didn’t make much sense to Andres either. That was why he hated having his eyes covered, because whenever he did it seemed like he ended up riding on flying rocks. But what had really happened was this: his descent to the ground had been cut short by a muscular man whose arms were the size of tree trunks. This man proceeded to lay Andres down on the back of his horse, tie him up, and begin to ride away. Andres’ flying rock was simply a horse that was moving swiftly toward the southern woods.

Eventually Andres figured this out, and he began struggling mightily to get free. He wiggled and writhed and rolled and winced and did everything possible to get his hands free. He wanted to head-butt the horse to get him to stop, but he didn’t figure the horse ought to suffer because his rider was a big lunkhead. Still, his mighty struggle against his bonds was quite distracting to the horse, and the rider did everything he could to keep the horse moving in a straight direction.

Finally Andres heard a voice. “Hey Chub, can’t you slow down?” the voice said. It was a deep voice with an odd sort of drawl. “This guy is driving my horse crazy!” Andres smiled to himself beneath his mask.

“Uh, hey, are you kiddin’ me, Pipes?” replied another voice. It was not a particularly smart-sounding voice, in Andres’ opinion. It was kind of high-pitched and a bit whiny. “You know they’re gonna be after us. We gotta get into those woods fast, man. No slowin’ down!”

Andres instantly despised the second voice, the voice belonging to the man called Chub. Here he was, being bounced around mercilessly, unable to see and barely able to breathe. Why couldn’t they give him a break and slow down? Andres couldn’t contain himself. He bellowed out, “Why don’t you knuckleheads take it easy? I’m dying back here!” Of course, he wasn’t really dying, but he didn’t figure a little exaggeration would hurt anything.

“Shut yer big mouth, punk!” Chub replied. Andres then felt his head get struck with some sort of wooden rod. It hurt tremendously. But Andres didn’t say a word; he wouldn’t give these guys the satisfaction of having bothered him. Besides, Andres could hear the rod snap, and he heard Chub cry out, “Hey, that punk’s head broke my favorite walking stick!” Andres smiled to himself once again. He had a unique ability to maintain a sense of humor, even in the most dire circumstances.

Still, the horses rode on. After awhile, Andres could feel the horses slow down and stop. Once again, Andres could hear voices. “Hey Chub, if we’re in such a great hurry, why are we stoppin’?” asked Pipes.

“Look, pal, can’t you see that kid back there who’s chasin’ us?” Chub replied. Andres’ heart was instantly filled with hope. That had to be Cable! But then his hope was tempered when he heard Chub continue. “I’m gonna send an arrow right through his heart!” Andres heard the distinct sound of an arrow being launched through the air. Andres closed his eyes; he didn’t want to see what happened. And then he realized that he didn’t need to close his eyes. He couldn’t see anything anyway.

Andres’ feared the worst as he felt the horses move again. He fought against his bonds with renewed vigor. He tugged and pulled and bounced his body up and down. He felt Pipes’ hands reach back and try to keep him still, but nothing short of death was going to keep him still now. He cried out once again, “Let me go, you lunkheads!” As he did so, he heard Chub say, “Pipes, we’ve got to go to the right! The wraiths of Dor-ko are there to block the path!” Andres then felt himself veer sharply to the right. Shortly afterward, he felt the pace slow down a bit.

Now Andres knew nothing of the wraiths of Dor-ko. But this much he did know--if Chub needed someone or something to block the path, then that must mean that Cable was still on his trail. That was a great relief to Andres. On the other hand, the slower pace must have meant that the path was truly blocked, and that Cable wouldn’t be able to continue the chase. That was bad news indeed. Andres became extremely angry with his captors, not so much for what they’d done for him but for what they’d done to his brother. He resisted with renewed fury. He knew he was having success, for the horse was constantly shifting and moving. Pipes could barely maintain control.

Finally, Andres felt himself stop. He heard his captors talk once again. “Hey Chub, why don’t we untie the kid? He’s not going to run off--not in these woods. And it would sure make the ride go a lot easier.”

“All right, Pipes,” Chub replied. “Let him free. But I’ll ride behind you, and I’ll send an arrow through his throat if he tries to escape.”

Within moments, Andres’ mask was removed and his hands and feet were untied. He looked around him. He was surrounded by the densest woods he’d ever seen. He was on a narrow path that slashed through the woods, but Chub was right--there was no room for escape. Besides, darkness was settling in. If he tried to run through the woods, he’d be slashed with dead branches besides getting instantly lost. Andres resigned himself to riding with his captors.

Andres glanced at the two men. Pipes had a relatively slender body, but his arms were enormous. His head was completely bald and clean-shaven. His face was actually fairly friendly-looking, as far as kidnappers go.

Chub, on the other hand, did not look at all friendly. His face was covered with a scraggly beard, and his mouth was constantly downturned into a frown. He was an enormous man, and Andres quickly figured out why he’d been made to ride with Pipes. Chub was so big that his horse wouldn’t have been able to hold the extra weight. In fact, after Chub mounted the horse, there wasn’t really enough room for anything else. His head, in proportion to his body, was extremely small. It kind of reminded Andres of a stem sitting atop a pumpkin.

After Andres had taken time to get his bearings, Chub came up to him and stuck his finger in his chest. “Look, punk,” he said. “You are free for now. But don’t even think about taking off, d’you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you,” replied Andres. “How could I not hear you? You’re like two feet away!”

Chub slapped Andres. “Don’t be insolent, punk!” he bellowed. Andres shrugged it off. He rather enjoyed irritating Chub, and a slap was a small price to pay. “Here’s the deal--you are going to prison. If you try to escape, we will kill you. But if you mind your manners and stay as still as a mouse and quiet as a statue, then you can ride with the mask off.”

“Uh, don’t you mean ‘as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse’?” replied Andres. “Mice aren’t really all that still.”

Chub’s face turned red, and his perpetual frown was turned down even further. “Listen to what I mean and not to what I say!” he growled.

Andres turned toward Pipes. “I appreciate your kindness, I really do,” he said. “And I think what you’re proposing is downright generous. I just have one thing to ask. I can understand you’re not wanting me to run away now, since you’ve so kindly allowed me to ride without a mask on. But would it be okay if I try to escape once I get thrown into my prison cell? Can I at least try to run away once you’ve locked me up and thrown away the key?”

Pipes turned toward Chub, and Chub nodded his head. “Yeah, punk, that’s fair,” Chub replied. “As long as you behave yourself on the trip, we’ll allow you to try and escape from your prison cell. Of course, you’ll never escape, since no one has ever escaped from Dor-ko’s prison. But you can try.”

Andres took grim satisfaction in his negotiating skills. He and his captors then continued their ride through the darkening woods.

Chapter 10 - The Plunge

Cable and Ranger galloped as swiftly as the narrow path and fading daylight would allow. Cable couldn’t understand why he felt so fearful; he just knew that he had to get away as quickly as he could. At first the path was clear, and horse and rider made good progress. After about 30 minutes of riding, Cable eased up on the reins and finally dared to look behind him. To his great relief, he saw nothing. So Cable slowed the pace and allowed Ranger to walk.

Presently they came to a stream. Ranger dipped his head and started to drink. Cable then realized just how thirsty he’d become. He’d not had a drink for what seemed like hours. He dismounted and plunged his face into the running water. The coolness refreshed him, and he drank freely. One he finished drinking, he rolled around in the stream and treated himself to an impromptu bath. After his close encounter with those ghoulish hooded creatures, he figured he needed a good cleaning.

As he stood up, he looked over at Ranger. His horse was standing perfectly still, looking toward the woods. Cable listened. Sure enough, he could hear a rustling sound in the direction from which he’d come. He didn’t dare to stop and observe. He jumped on Ranger and frantically looked for a direction in which to flee these relentless creatures.

The path which they’d been on seemed to stop at the stream. The woods were extremely thick, and the travel would be slow if they chose that route. So Cable urged his horse to follow the streambed and run upstream. It was the one route that was relatively free of low-hanging branches.

Ranger didn’t need any urging as he plodded his way upstream. Thankfully the waters were shallow and they could travel quite freely. The footing was tricky, and more than once Cable was nearly thrown from Ranger’s back. Progress was slow as night overtook the forest, but nevertheless the pair managed to stay on the move for a couple of hours.

Finally exhaustion overtook Cable. With every step Ranger took, Cable seemed to nearly fall asleep. They came to a bend, and Cable thought he could make out a small clearing. He pulled Ranger over to the right. Ranger, as though reading Cable’s mind, stepped out of the streambed and up onto a small bed of moss. Cable leaped off Ranger’s back. Without a word, both of them collapsed to the ground. Ranger laid down and looked dead, the way horses often do when they go to sleep. Cable laid down back-to-back with his horse and friend.

“I’ll take the first shift,” Cable said. He figured that he and Ranger ought to alternate being awake and standing guard. Cable’s noble intention was to allow his horse to sleep first. But the fear he felt for the hooded creatures was overcome by sleepiness. His eyelids felt as though they had stones attached to them. Within minutes, both Cable and Ranger were asleep in the midst of the southern woods.

The next sound Cable heard was a whinnying sound. Cable, who wasn’t one to wake up very quickly, told Ranger to quiet down and rolled over onto his back. But the whinnying wouldn’t stop. Cable, sensing that something important must be going on, pried his eyelids open with his thumbs. As vision returned to his still-clouded head, he turned toward Ranger.

The horse was frantic. He was facing the streambed, standing on his hind legs and kicking and making all the noise he possibly could. As focus returned to Cable’s eyes, he realized why Ranger was so hysterical.

Gliding their way over the stream, illuminated by the eerie moonlight, were the two hooded creatures. One approached with outstretched arms coming upstream, while the other approached with a slashing sword coming downstream. The streambed was no longer a path of escape. Their movement was slow, silent, and relentless.

“Come here, Ranger!” cried out Cable. Ranger turned around and planted his feet on the ground. Cable leaped on his back. “Let’s go, boy!” Cable cried out.

Ranger ran headlong into the woods. The branches cruelly lashed at Cable as they felt their way through the woods. One branch grabbed the bow that was slung over his back and yanked it to the ground. Cable let it go; he dared not stop. The ride was horribly and painfully slow. They had to feel their way through in near-complete darkness. The only comfort was that the going had to be just as slow for their pursuers. Cable’s face was bloodied by the many sharp, dead evergreen branches that protruded everywhere. He figured this had to be one of the most miserable nights he’d ever known.

Finally they reached what appeared to be a clearing of sorts. In the dim glow of the still-distant rising sun, Cable could see that they had come upon a path. The path, which was much broader than any they had encountered so far in these oppressive woods, bore off to the left and uphill. Cable rejoiced at the relief from the painful meandering through the woods, and he took some comfort in the approaching daylight. He feared an enemy he could clearly see less than an enemy that was ever-lurking just out of view.

As Ranger loped uphill, Cable could see just how difficult the ride had been for him as well. The poor horse was covered with scratches and bleeding wounds. Ranger had given everything to save his rider, but he had very little energy left. His mouth was foaming; Cable knew he must be extremely thirsty. But still he plodded on. Cable marveled at the devotion of his steed. What a faithful horse.

The hill got increasingly steep for a time, then started to level off. As they crested the hill, Cable saw a strange mound of sorts off to the right side of the path. A small wooden door was embedded in the mound. Just above the top doorpost was a rock with a bronze plaque affixed to it. Cable was intrigued by this strange sight, so he halted his horse and dismounted. A strange smell of smoke seemed to come out of the doorway. Cable started to read the plaque, when suddenly his horse cried out and reared up once again. Cable looked down the pathway again.

He had been too slow. The two hooded figures were already on his heels.

Ranger, without waiting for his rider, took off to the right in an attempt to continue along the path. Cable panicked; he knew his safety depended upon his horse. He ran after him and cried out, “Stop, Ranger! Whoa buddy!” Ranger did indeed stop within seconds, but it was not because of Cable’s desperate cries.

It was because the path led to the edge of a cliff.

Cable stopped at the cliff’s edge and looked down. He could see a river running about 100 feet below, but it was a sheer dropoff. He turned around. The hooded figures continued to draw closer--one with outstretched arms, the other with sword flashing. Cable now realized that he was completely trapped. To his left was a mound that he could not quickly scale. Behind him was a cliff. To his right was more dense woods, and he knew that his bruised and battered horse could not bear to go back in there. And to his front were his pursuers.

Suddenly the hooded figures stopped. A silent moment followed. Ranger, to Cable’s surprise, broke the silence by whinnying and running directly toward the figures. However, rather than running them over, he summoned every last bit of strength and leaped over them and scrambled desperately back down the path. The hooded figures let him pass without giving chase. They evidently weren’t worried about the horse.

It was Cable that they wanted. And now Cable was completely alone.

Cable swallowed hard and tried to hide his despair. “What do you want?” he finally asked, his voice dry and raspy.

“Lay down your sword,” answered the first hooded figure (the one without the sword) in a soft but penetrating voice. Cable obeyed. He had given up all hope of escape at this point. All he wanted to do now was to live, and he figured he’d have a better chance of that if he just complied.

“Now come here,” said the first hooded figure again. Cable took a few steps forward, toward the door that he had been looking at previously. “Look at the plaque,” commanded the hooded figure when Cable reached the door. Again, Cable did as he was told. The plaque read as follows:

In this place
Let the call go forth
That the madness may end.

Strangely, at the bottom of the plaque was King Maximilian’s seal. Cable turned back to the first hooded figure and asked, “What is this supposed to mean?”

“Ah, isn’t it obvious? Why don’t you open the door and gaze in?” Cable once again complied. He opened the small door. Immediately smoke came billowing out. There seemed to be a sharp dropoff beyond the door’s threshold. As Cable looked inside, he saw a bright light flickering. It seemed like it must be a great fire, though he couldn’t see the flames. There also seemed to be some strange sounds coming forth, like distant screams. But again, nothing was clear. All Cable knew was that the place filled him with fear. He shut the door and turned back to the hooded figure, who’d taken a couple of more steps toward him.

“So what is that?” Cable asked.

“Don’t you understand?” replied the mysterious figure. “I am the agent of the king. You may doubt it, but it is so! The call has gone forth, just as the plaque has said. All that remains is for you to obey! The king has summoned you here. You are to go through that door and follow your calling! It is the only way to stop the madness! Now go!”

Cable was repulsed at the idea. He tried to back away, but the first hooded figure reached out and grabbed him. Cable wanted to resist, but all strength to fight seemed to leave his body.

“If you pass through the door, you shall live forever!” declared the hooded figure, his voice calm but eerily urgent. “You have read the plaque. This is what your father has wanted. He has directed your steps here. Now, you must follow his command. Go!”

Cable tried to absorb the words. Finally, he blurted out, “You lie! My father would never lead me to such a place.”

“Then why hasn’t he tried to stop me?” asked the hooded figure. “If he is as powerful as you think he is, then surely--if he didn’t want you here--he would have stopped you. But he has led you to this place. As you can see, the last step of obedience is yours. Now go!”

As Cable stood helplessly in the grasp of the first hooded figure, the second figure who held the flashing sword stepped forward. He opened the door once again and motioned for Cable to enter. Cable tried to get free, but the grasp was as firm as an iron shackle. Cable was pushed closer to the threshold. “If the step of obedience is mine, why are you forcing me!” he cried out. His cries were met with silence. He dug in his heels to no avail.

As he was about to cross the threshold, he cried out, “Father, save me!” As he did so, he thought he could hear a strange laugh come out of the mouths of the hooded figures. Then, in his moment of greatest despair, he felt two arrows whiz by his head. For just a moment, his hands were free. Without looking or even thinking, he rushed to the edge of the cliff, swallowed hard, and dived toward the river below.

Cable did not notice another figure that was also pursuing him. He emerged from the woods and followed Cable over the cliff.