Dungeon Runner (Book 1 and 2)

Stepping Up, Chapter 102

Harry glared as Tibs entered the room.

Don had convinced the guard leader to allow Tibs to be present, but Harry wasn't happy about it. Don looked smug, and for once Tibs thought it was justified. He couldn't think of one thing the sorcerer could have said to make Harry agree. With them was Cross, who, as someone who worked with the caravan, and hadn't pissed off the guards, could justify being there and a cleric Tibs didn't know overseeing Casper's, the caravan rider, recovery. Tibs didn't understand why, but unless there was an urgent need for them to leave, the clerics always stayed nearby for a while after healing someone.

Carina had wanted to come, and Jackal had reluctantly said he should be there too, but Don made it clear Harry only agreed to let Tibs come. Mez hadn't shown an interest in the meeting, and Khumdar had yet to make an appearance. Tibs figured he was still rooting out secrets within the town.

Harry focused on the man reclining on the bed. "Tell us what happened."

Casper was still pale. His physical injuries were healed, but he was malnourished and dehydrated and looked around nervously, as if he expected someone to jump out of the shadows and drag him back. Tibs wondered how long he was under the care of Sebastian's people before escaping.

"We were a month out when they attacked," the man said, his voice rough. "They overwhelmed our guards. There were so many of them we had no chance. They could have captured a city, there were so many." He fell silent and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. "Few of us died in the attack. They wanted prisoners. Bandits don't want to keep anyone alive, they just want riches. Most who died did so when it came time to get the caravan moving again. To convince the caravan master to cooperate." He was quiet again, his gaze distant. Tibs saw no lies in his words, sensed no secrets that felt pertinent.

"Who gives the orders?" Harry asked in what, for the man, felt like a considerate tone.

Casper looked around, surprised and fearful, then calmed. "I don't know," he finally said. "I never saw anyone other than our guards. They'd come and take someone away anytime there was a problem. That person never came back. They laughed at us, and those who thought they could make demands on their boss. Some always looked eager to take us away. Some used us for their amusement." He shuddered.

Tibs glanced at Harry as the man looked at him. They knew who gave the orders. Even if Sebastian wasn't present, this was his ploy. Was the question to confirm that he was there? Would his presence mean the guild would do something this time?

"I lost track of how long we traveled. They chained the feistier of us to the wagons and forced them to keep up. We just walked along at our pace, so long as we didn't go too slow for our guards." He looked at his hands. The right wrist was scared raw where a manacle had been attached. It now looked like an old wound, after the cleric had healed him, but Tibs suspected that for a time, Casper had been chained to a wagon.

"The longer we walked without causing problems, with pacing the wagons, the less the guards paid attention to us. Enough that some thought they could run off. They couldn't. I didn't think about running. I knew it was hopeless. We would get where they were taking us and they would end us. I'd given up. I think that's why I agreed when the others needed people to cause a distraction. We'd fail, but at least it would be over for me then and there. I was tired of waiting."

The man's voice turned hollow as he spoke.

Cross placed a hand on his arm and he jerked. "You're safe," she said in a soothing tone. "What you tell us will help us save many of them."

"They can't be saved," he replied quietly. "There were a dozen of us. We all rushed through the guard and went for the horses. Five of us made it. I nearly didn't. I was cut bad as I reached one, but I made it on and galloped off with them. More fell to arrows. I blacked out and woke nearly falling off the horse. I was alone. I didn't stop. When I found the track, I didn't know if I was heading toward them, or away anymore. I didn't care. I rode as hard as I could. Slept in the trees, hoped for something to kill me in the night and end my torment. When I saw the smoke, I thought I was back at Tarlage, instead I'm here, where I'll die with you."