The Home Stone

That night Brendan began to regain most of his strength. As the first rays of the sun lit the eastern horizon, the tiny oasis came into view. It was, as they had feared. The once green lush palm trees laden with the sweet tasting coconuts were brown and broken. The oasis had dried up. Marrak quickly ran to where the water hole was and began to dig. Shannon and Brendan soon followed and used what they had to dig. They dug for about an hour before the dry sand felt moist. After more digging they finally had a hole deep enough so that a trickle of water could be scooped up and poured into the empty water skin. This took most of the morning and by the time the sun was high in the sky they had managed to fill half of one water skin.

“This won’t be enough to get us to the eastern coast,” said Brendan. “One of us maybe, but not all of us.”

“I have to agree,” said Marrak as he stared at the brown and broken trees. “We have only one route left to us. It is not a choice I take lightly, but if we are to survive at all, we will have to head north to the desert city of Hakkon. Our friendly merchant will most probably have the city gates watched for all newcomers. So, we will have to take our chances. Out here is certain death if we were to continue on our original route.”

Shannon and Brendan both agreed. They would stay here the rest of the day and leave for desert city at dusk. With aid of one of the downed palms, Marrak used some of their blankets and made a small tent. Here they huddled while the sun’s heat outside their makeshift shelter grew hotter as the hours passed. That night a sand storm blew in and nearly buried them alive. Their makeshift tent did not last too long in the howling wind. Covering themselves with their cloaks, they hunkered down close together and waited out the tempest. Every so often they had to stand up and shake the sand from their bodies. This was the only way they could prevent the sand from burying them completely. Although they could not see a thing, they could hear the cracking of the palms as the wind swept them aside. The storm lasted all night and most of the next day, forcing them to camp out in the sand and lose another day.

Only when the sun sunk behind the Crags the next day, did the three get some relief from the heat. They were up and on their way north towards the desert city. They walked all night and as the morning began to light the sky they stood before the gates of the city. They entered just as the populace began to stir. Shops that lined the long main street began to serve customers. Shannon asked Marrak why they opened so early.

“Most of their business is done in the early hours, before the heat,” he answered. “By noon most of them are closed, except, for the alehouses. They remain open all the time. They do a brisk business when it’s so hot.”

The troll lead them down a side street and over to a low roofed building. They descended a long flight of stairs and entered a large room. The walls were made of a mixture of sand and mud, with a wood-shingled roof. There were no windows to be seen. This, explained Marrak, kept the inside cooler during the day and warmer at night. Inside one could make out the thickness of the walls and roof. They were at least three feet thick with a foot of straw for insulation under the shingles.

“This is where a good friend of mine lives,” began the troll. “He will help get you back out of the city. You can trust him. I will leave now and go to find him. His name is Soukar. If he should return before I do, just tell him I brought you here. He will know what to do.”

“You’ve done this before,” said Shannon. “We aren’t the first. Are we?”

A broad smile lit up the troll’s face as he turned and left the building. Drinking the last of their water the two settled down and waited for one of them to return. Looking around they saw that they were in a large room with a high ceiling. A few pieces of furniture stood against the walls and a large table with four chairs took up a portion of the far wall. They did not have long to wait. For soon, one could make out the sound of heavy boots descending the sandstone steps.

Brendan unsheathed his sword and Shannon readied an arrow in case the wrong people entered the room. The door swung open and there stood one of the largest troll that they had ever seen. He froze instantly at the sight of Shannon’s bow.

“My name is Soukar,” came a low voice. “Marrak told me you were waiting in here.”

Shannon lowered her bow, but Brendan kept his sword up. He would not lower it until he was satisfied that this troll was who he said he was. Only then he sheathed his sword and sat down on one of the tall chairs.

“Where is Marrak now?” asked Shannon.

“He is checking out who has come to this city recently,” Soukar answered. “Also, I’ll find a way to get you out safely. But for now, you must be hungry and thirsty,” he continued. “I have some fresh bread and cool ale to help wash the sand from your throats.”

Pushing aside a large and well-worn area rug, the troll lifted a heavy trap door and descended into the black abyss. He soon returned with a large loaf of bread and a small wheel of cheese. Under one arm he held a five-gallon size barrel of ale and the food in the other.

Placing the food and drink on the table he turned and said. “I have to leave now, but will return before dark. If everything is all right you will be on your way after dark. Rest now.” He then ascended the stairs and was gone before Shannon or Brendan could say anything.

The two decided to spend this time resting and building their strength for the night’s trek east. Time passed slowly and both slept little as the noise outside kept them awake. Only during the mid-afternoon did it quiet down as people vacated the streets and merchants closed their overheated shops. There was little conversation as both the elf and rogue wanted to conserve as much energy as possible. Boredom had set in and they had lost all track of time. With no windows to see if it was day or if the sun had already set, the only light coming from a small candle standing on the table made the waiting time seem longer and longer. Then finally the door opened. Marrak and his friend had returned.

It was already dark when the two trolls entered the root cellar that doubled as a home for Soukar.

“It seems that our friend the merchant has a lot of friends in this town,” Soukar started. “Every exit is being watched. He must now believe that the two of you have left the prison and are headed this way.”

“How could he have gotten word to anyone here in such a short time?” asked Shannon.

“Don’t forget,” answered Marrak. “He did have a head start on us. While we were using the underground tunnels to escape the city, he could have traveled on horseback and made it here before we spent our first night out on the desert.”

“Yea, I suppose you could be right,” said Shannon in a hushed voice. “So? What now?”

“We too are not without friends here in Hakkon,” began Soukar. “We leave tonight. There will be no moon so getting away from here will be easier. I have procured some horses and extra supplies. They will be waiting for us about an hour’s walk east of here. Marrak and I will ride with you for half the night and then turn back, but for now we will eat and drink. We depart in one hour.”

The supper meal was consumed in silence. Everyone knew the dangers, that lurked around every corner. Should they be spotted, it would mean certain death to all.

After the food and plates had been put away, Soukar told them that it was time to leave. Shannon sighed a sigh of relief. She hated being cooped up in this cellar with the only way of escape being the door that the trolls had entered from. She was glad when they reached the opening and stepped out into the cool night air.

Soukar took the three down a darkened street and out of sight from the main road where most of the traffic was still making its way either home or to one of the dozens of alehouses that line the main road of Hakkon. Several times they had to stop and hide in the shadows of a gloomy entrance to avoid being seen by passersby. Turning up one street and then down another, Shannon and Brendan became completely lost and had to rely on the troll leading them.

A couple of hours later they stopped in front of the eastern wall of the city. It was pitch black that even Shannon with her elven vision had a hard time seeing where they were going. Finally Soukar stopped. He motioned to them to follow in absolute silence.

“We will be passing right under the night watch,” he whispered. “Once we emerge on the outside, we will hug the wall going south for a bit. When we are out of their sight, we will turn east and make our way to the rendezvous, where my friend with the horses is waiting.”

They stole through the night like thieves on the run. Only it was not the law that was chasing them. In the darkness, they quietly made their way to the wall and through a tiny door, which was just big enough for Soukar to squeeze through. Once outside the city, they moved to find the place, where Soukar’s friend was waiting. Time passed more quickly now and soon they were headed east and out of sight of Hakkon.