Blade of Champions

Chapter Eighteen: The Impossible

        CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

        THE IMPOSSIBLE

The four companions huddled together in the branches, looking down. Beneath their feet slept a company of evil, the size of which they had never seen before, not in a single location.

And these were no ordinary soldiers, Attagood informed them in a whisper. These were Shadow Warriors, and the flag in their midst marked them as a force of great importance, headed by one of Lucius's most lethal commanders. 

'Must be here for weapons,' he said. His lips compressed to a thin line, and his usually dour face had grown even longer.

'We can't stop now.'

The others looked at Nadoli in surprise. 

In the dark her face seemed to glow, pale and small. 'I can see the slaves,' she breathed. 'They're waiting for us.' 

With her chin, she pointed ahead to where the faint outline of the cage was visible through the gloom, between the pointed tops of the tents.

As one, the four began to move again. Nothing more needed to be said.

Despite the size of the encampment, only two sentries had been posted and Hughell's sharp eyes were quick to note this. The hulking figures stood on the outskirts of the camp, facing away into the forest. Not once did they think to look up, and the four knights crept over their heads unnoticed.

Keeping one eye on the sentries, Hughell led the way to the very end of the trail, taking pains to make sure the others knew where to put their hands. Silence was critical now, though the whispering wind helped conceal their half-stifled breaths and the scrape of their boots against the bark.

After what felt like an ages, Hughell swivelled around on the branch and held up his hand.

No one dared to say a word as Karver hurried to unravel the rope from around his waist and arrange it in a tight snake across the branch, ready to drop the moment the signal was given.

Hughell flattened himself out on the branch and scanned the surroundings one more time.

Below he could see the dark shapes of the slaves, stretched out on the moonlit circle of dirt, pretending to be asleep.

At least, Hughell hoped they were only pretending. Biting his lip, he gave the signal.

With a slithering sound, the rope slid off the branch and dropped. The end hit the ground harder than it should have, slapping up a puff of dust.

Hughell watched anxiously, but nothing happened for several moments. He gritted his teeth, thinking he'd have to risk climbing down to wake them.

Suddenly, like a miracle, one of the sleeping figures rose silently and ran towards the rope. It slipped one foot into a loop, stopped, looked up - then started climbing.

Just in time, Karver snagged the final loop around his waist and leaned back. The four held their breaths as the shadow climbed higher, higher, swinging slightly in the wind. It – he, they could now see – reached the top and four hands reached down to pull him onto the branch.

The boy blinked, then suddenly swayed. His hands shot out.

In the nick of time, Hughell grabber his shoulder and pointed along the branch to where Attagood stood.

‘Follow him,’ he mouthed.

With a grateful look, the boy scuttled along the branch, his spidery limbs looking even thinner in the dim light.