A Soldier's Life

Chapter 142

Chapter 142

The black oil slick of the dungeon entrance protruded above the snow in sharp contrast to the white field. Castile held everyone back and looked up at the hearth tree canopy. The tree still had green leaves, but heavy snow covered them. There was also the threat of giant eagles somewhere in the branches, but no movement could be seen at the moment. “Stack some tables against the shattered door for now. If there are any more wights nearby, I don’t want them to surprise us.”

The petrified tables were fortunately not fused with the floor, and we wrestled them to cover the door, Maveith doing the heavy lifting but grimacing through his injuries. Castile worked her frozen hands together as she tried to warm them and sat down. Adrian ordered Konstantin, “Check your injury with Linus, inform the others we found the dungeon, and make sure they are well.” Konstantin hurried off, and I sat with Castile and Adrian at the table. Maveith slumped against a wall, struggling with his breathing as he recovered from the specter strikes.

Castile opened our meeting with our injured men. “Firth, Benito, and Konstantin are too injured to fight. We lack healing potions for them.”

“I am sure they would object to that assessment.” Adrian stated.

Castile sighed, some color finally returning to her hands, which were rubbed continuously together. “Suggestions?” She finally said.

Adrian responded first, “We need to clear as many specters as possible in this area of the city before exploring the dungeon. We don’t want to exit and be swarmed. There are probably more wights in the neighboring buildings as well.”

Both turned to me, and I thought about it, “We should dig under the snow to the dungeon gate to hide our access from the summoner. We need to send in people to hunt food now.”

Adrian’s eyebrows arched in surprise, and Castile looked contemplative, “It is about thirty feet to the dungeon entrance. There are nine tables, each about eight feet long and three wide. I like the idea, make it happen, Eryk.” She turned to Adrian, “Once we recover for a time, we can see about drawing specters from the streets. The issue is we cannot see through the snow.”

Adrian asked, “Will we bring all the men up here now that the room is cleared?”

Castile slowly shook her head. “I don’t like the idea of separating the men, but it is much colder up here than in the undercity. I think we will all remain in the undercity and just work out of this tavern during the day. This will also make it more difficult for the summoner to find us.”

There was not much more to be said, and the meeting dispersed, Castile taking the kettle down the steps and Adrian remaining on guard. I went and sat with Maveith, “How are you doing, big guy?”

Maveith was whizzing a little bit, and his voice was not as deep as normal, “The arm hurts the most from where the wight bit it. I don’t know how many times I got hit by the specters, but they definitely got my ribs and hip. It is painful to breathe and walk.” Maveith was extremely stoic, so I knew he was in a lot of pain.Discover new chapters at novelhall.com

“You did amazing in the fight. Without you holding the door, we would have been overrun.” I patted him on the shoulder.

Pavel and Lucien came up the stairs to help me create the tunnels to the dungeon entrance with the stone tables. Maveith rose to help, but I told him he needed to rest. I sent for three more men to stand guard while we worked. Who knew what was out in the snow? Brutus, Remus, and Blaze came up the stairs to stand watch while we worked.

We took down the two tables blocking the doorway and then extended a table lengthwise into the snow. The snow was crystalline, powdery, and difficult to pack down. We tried anyway, packing the snow to the left and right and edging the table forward. We added more tables as we went. It was slow and extremely cold work.

We were cautious as we proceeded and only stumbled across a single specter. Lucien was the unfortunate one of us pressing the snow under the table when it emerged. Lucien scrambled out into the tavern, bringing the elven child specter with him, carrying a toy sword. He had been struck in the face and lost vision in his right eye from the attack. Brutus retrieved the kettle for me, and I collected the death essence.

It took three hours of steady work in the cold to reach the dungeon entrance. Pavel was the first to reach the black archway, and it had taken just under five tables to cover the distance. Everyone looked relieved that the cold and miserable job was done. “We need to raise the tables up next,” I informed them. They all groaned, so I said, “We can take a break and find items to put under the table legs. There were several stone chests in the rooms upstairs.”

Two men pressed the stone tables up while another moved stone casks, chests, and other petrified furniture we salvaged from the rooms under the legs. When finished, our table-tunnel under the snow had about a five-foot clearance. It was better than crawling on our hands and knees to reach the dungeon entrance. We should be secure from the sight of both the giant eagles and the summoner. We finished late in the night when we all retreated to the undercity to get warm and inform Castile.

Castile was sleeping, as was most of the company. I was also happy to see Maveith’s chest rising and falling gracefully in slumber. I found my pack and laid out my bedroll. I utilized the dreamscape amulet to force a good night’s sleep upon myself.

I found Firth at a table with a wine bottle he was sipping on and sat across from him, “How are you faring?”

The scruffy man took a long swig, unwrapped his arm, and showed it to me. The arm was splinted, but the skin was black, “If I don’t get a healer, I will probably have to cut it off. Less than a week, I am guessing.” He said stoically.

“I am sorry.” I said, but it didn’t help his mood. “Maybe there are healing potions in the dungeon?” His face brightened some at my suggestion.

“Healing potions are common rewards in dungeons.” He said softly and with some hope in his voice.

“Castile is going to start exploring soon. Maybe I will be able to go in as well.” I said, but I realized that meant I would be going in alone. I was already thinking that maybe I could put someone in my dimensional space and pull them out after entering. It would reveal a lot about the strength of my space affinity.

I moved on to Konstantin, who was standing near a window on guard. He had his bad arm in a sling, and the gash in his armor was still there. “Looks like you need some new armor,” I joked. “How bad is it?”

“Snapped my clavicle but didn’t penetrate too far. Can’t use that arm, and swinging with my good one is painful.” He spoke indifferently of the injury.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get in some practice? I think we would be fairly evenly matched now.” I said with a smirk. My praise of his prowess with the blade got the response I wanted.

Konstantin couldn’t help but chuckle and winced at the pain it caused, “You are an evil man for making me laugh.” I patted the older man on his good shoulder as I moved on.

I checked on Maveith and Benito next. Both were resting. Benito’s wrist was a swollen dark purple mass. His eyes were closed, so I didn’t wake him. Maveith was still sleeping, and at least Maveith’s breathing sounded much better. Castile was getting ready to go into the dungeon, so I was on watch duty with the collector. The specters arrived infrequently in ones and twos, but I still flinched every time I had to use the artifact. It was getting easier, but it felt like I was a masochist for the effort.

Castile was ready and walked down the snow tunnel, crouching slightly. Most of the men watched her as she made her progress. That dungeon was our best hope of survival. When she reached the oily black surface of the entrance, she paused only a second before being embraced by the blackness, snuffing out the glowstone in her hand. Everyone held their breath.

No one spoke as we waited for Castile’s return. I picked up the large, broad sword and started swinging it as a distraction, the kettle of souls on the table nearby. A fat specter wandered into the tavern through the doorway, and everyone paused. I don’t think anyone had ever seen a fat elf before. The specter ignored everyone and made to go and sit at the bar, expecting to be served.

With everyone paralyzed in disbelief, Konstantin took action and grunted as he swung his runic weapon into the specter’s back. Sparks flashed, and the specter moved faster than he had any right to. Konstantin backpedaled in surprise. Two runic arrows pierced the specter from Blaze and Pavel. Adrian’s blade took it from the side, and Konstantin regained his footing managing another strike, forcing the specter to dissipate.

I did my job and used the kettle on the remains. The resistance from the specter was much stronger, and I guessed that maybe it had been a poltergeist. After the kettle consumed the purple smoke, I dropped it heavily on the table. “That one was stronger than normal.” Adrian commented.

Blaze and Pavel retrieved their arrows, and we returned to waiting for Castile. Castile was gone for an hour when Mateo, who was watching the snow tunnel, announced her return. “Castile’s back!” We all circled around the doorway as her glowstone approached the tunnel. Castile was dragging the corpse of a black spider the size of a dog. She was struggling with her prize but pulled it all the way to the center of the tavern.

“Dinner is served!” she said triumphantly, dropping the rope lead.

Looking at the grotesque-looking arachnid, I was the first to comment, “I don’t think I have much of an appetite.”

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