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Bone tired, Dave rested his hand on a boulder to steady himself. He felt the cool texture of the limestone. Horatio wiggled in his backpack. Dave felt the lup whelp’s breath on his neck. He needed to see how far Bigelow was behind him, but Dave was so tired that his eyes didn’t focus. He concentrated on a large oak tree, hoping his vision would clear.
The group had descended to the fourth terrace, much to Tandor’s vehement objections because of the dragon danger. But Bigelow did not relent. His band of about one hundred men kept pursuing them, long after Zambor’s men had turned back.
After Dave’s eyes focused, he looked back on the terrace wall. Bigelow’s men were using a doubled-up rope to lower themselves down the steep precipice. Dave had seen at least one soldier fall as Bigelow drove them at a pace bordering on lunacy.
Dave took a deep breath. The air had been thick in Abaddon, but now it was definitely thicker. He felt as if he were inhaling liquid. Still, that’s how he had felt when he first came to Abaddon. His body had acclimatized and he had forgotten all about the change as it became “normal.”
“This can’t go on,” Dave muttered to himself. No one had slept in more than forty-eight hours because of the pursuit. If they had to attempt the next descent in their present physical state, there would be trouble. He had already seen the others stumbling as they fell asleep on their feet. He, Arlana, and Hanomer, although tired, were much more alert than the others. It was another one of the remarkable things he had learned about his new “Ancient” body. He could go without sleep for much longer than before. He would be able to make it down one more level to the fifth terrace, but the others could not, and there would be casualties. A lot of casualties.
Dave walked over to Al and Larsen who had both fallen asleep as soon as they had sat down. Arlana touched his arm. “Husband, they can’t go on.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
Makalo, Thomas, and Chartrand were supposed to be on sentry duty, watching the progress of Bigelow’s company, but they had also fallen asleep.
I hope their guns have their safeties on. Dave thought.
“Husband, do you want Hanomer and me to scout ahead to find a place where we can make a stand so they can get some sleep?”
Dave looked at her, thinking furiously through his thick mental fog. “But there’s a hundred of them. We’ll never hold them off. And even if we did, once we’re pinned down, they can rest as well as we can, and simply bide their time until they have us.”
“Except for the monster that used to be Bigelow, they are as tired as we are,” said Arlana. “We three can hold them off, while the rest of our party get some sleep. We have rifles and much ammunition. That should discourage them. If not, we’ll just have to trust for a chance to get away.” She looked up into the overcast sky and sniffed. “I think it will rain soon. That may help our eventual escape.”
Hanomer approached. “Friend Dave, the next precipice descent—to the fifth terrace—will kill us if we continue blacking out on our feet, as our friends are doing now. Let friend Arlana and I scout ahead. I think I see a promontory northwest of us, right on the edge of the escarpment. It looks promising. With a defensible position right on the edge of the precipice so that we can’t be surrounded and starved out, we can hold them off with our rifles. Perhaps we can even find some water. The farther we descend, the more rivulets and streams seep out of the cliff wall.”
Dave nodded his agreement. Arlana and Hanomer set off at a fast pace.
Dave checked the rifles of his companions, verified that his own had a bullet in the chamber and sat on a rock to watch Bigelow’s progress down the rock face to their terrace. The soldiers were two kilometers away, but Dave could see them clearly. Suddenly a scream echoed off the far precipice wall as another of Bigelow’s men fell to his death. The other soldiers in Bigelow’s company stopped. He could see some argue with Bigelow while others seemed to be asleep, slumped against the cliff wall. Suddenly Bigelow lifted one soldier high into the air, threw him off the cliff, and then went to the nearest soldiers and kicked them awake. The band started down again, but they went slowly whenever Bigelow was off haranguing someone else.
Arlana is right. They are spent. Thought Dave. They won’t come on very fast.
Dave alternately watched Bigelow’s progress from his lookout post, and then descended the shallow slope to the cliff edge to help keep himself awake. After about forty-five minutes of this routine, Arlana and Hanomer returned.
“Do we move?” asked Dave.
“We covered about two kilometers along the edge of the precipice to the rock projection Hanomer saw. That pier of rock is like a finger of hard stone that has not eroded away. We will have to descend a shallow ravine and climb the thirty-pace tower of natural rock rising out of the cliff. The back is very steep. A section fell into the abyss long ago,” explained Arlana.
“We could make a stand there, friend Dave,” said Hanomer, “but the climb up the stone finger is very difficult.”
“What do you think, Arlana?”
“It’s strong, but there is no cover. We would be attacked on three sides and the top is bare. The climb looks more difficult than it is. I think we wouldn’t stand a chance. Fighting against so many under a hail of arrows would force us to take cover. The first wave would overwhelm us. There would also be no water at the top. Bigelow could simply wait us out if he wanted.”
“The song of our last stand would be remembered for generations if there were any bards to compose and sing it,” added Hanomer wistfully.
I don’t really want to us to be thinking about last stands. There has to be a way out, thought Dave.
During his walks to the cliff edge, Dave had thoroughly examined the cliff face leading to the fifth terrace. “What about down there?” he asked. The first part of the drop was not vertical but sloped away at a seventy-degree angle. About one hundred meters down, a buttress of rock that looked like a thirty-meter tower of pancakes rose vertically. Beyond this sentinel, the precipice resumed its descent at a much steeper angle.
“We would be under constant arrow bombardment from up here,” said Arlana.
“True,” said Dave, “but with that pancake structure, it looks like there are lots of ledges and overhangs to protect us. Furthermore, Bigelow has a difficult choice. If he sends his men straight at us, we’ll be firing at them for the whole descent, since the sloping cliff is smooth with little cover. If he stays far away from us for the descent, say over there to the left or off to the right, he still has to send them across the face of the steep slope to reach us.”
“I don’t think we could get the others down that slope safely,” mused Arlana.
“Arlana, use our ropes with bowline hitches and string them all the way to the bottom of the pancake tower. Everybody ties to the rope with a loop knot that tightens if they fall. I’ll go last and bring the ropes with me.”
The three of them fastened the ropes they needed, with Hanomer fastening the one furthest down. Twenty minutes later, Dave and Arlana began to wake the others. Arlana led the first one to the ropes while Dave went to the others and convinced them to give one last push. He finally roused Al and walked with him to the precipice edge. He made a loop and attached it to Al’s climbing harness with a carabiner.
“We had to move,” mumbled Al. “I’ve been praying that you found something.”
“I think we have,” said Dave, “but we have to make an easy descent to our mini-stronghold. One more push and then you can sleep.”
Al groaned, but said nothing more. The others were already part way down. A couple had slipped, but the loop and the angle of the slope helped to stop them before they crashed into the others. When they did fall, Arlana or Hanomer were there to help them find a foothold and get moving again.
Dave climbed back to his lookout position with one of the rifles and crouched down. For the last hundred meters beyond the lookout, the trees thinned and low bushes dotted the landscape. He stayed out of sight, but had a good field of view.
There was no sign of Bigelow’s men yet. They’re as tired as we are, thought Dave. He hoped his friends were making rapid progress, walking down the steep slope of the cliff with the aid of the ropes. The prospect of rest and sleep had seemed to spur them to one last superhuman effort.
Just then Dave saw some movement in the distance. A few figures with bows and swords staggered out of the trees and stumbled toward him. It was a long shot, Dave didn’t have the heart to fire at them. Linder would have done what’s necessary, thought Dave. I’m being sentimentally stupid.
Dave saw two soldiers on the left of the line stumble and lie still. Then Bigelow’s towering figure appeared and, in a rage, he kicked the two soldiers to get them up. One responded and came stumbling forward. The other one collapsed again. Cursing, Bigelow drew his sword and swung at the fallen soldier. Dave’s eyes clouded over with anger, and he raised his rifle and took a shot at Bigelow. He shot wide. Bigelow dove back into the woods before Dave could fire a second. He could see the enemy not only advance directly on them, but also move left and right just inside the woods.
They’re outflanking me. Time to go.
Dave, ran back to the precipice edge, untied the rope and threw it over the cliff. Doubling his own rope over a knob of rock, he moved down the steep incline as fast as he could. Coming to the end of the first rope, he untied the end, and stuffed it into his pack. He repeated the procedure with the second rope.
He was just about to untie the third and final rope when he saw, far above him, heads peering over the edge in the gloom. He started to untie the knot when he looked up and saw Bigelow towering over his men. “There he is! Shoot him,” Bigelow screamed.
Dave pulled out his knife and cut the last rope, then looping his own rope over the projection he started to run down the seventy-degree slope as fast as he could using the rope to keep his feet on the smooth rock. Arrows began to clatter on the rocks around him. He recklessly increased his speed and then leapt the last five meters to the base of the of the pancake tower. That jump would probably have done serious damage to my knee in my old body. Thank goodness for that healing plant!
He didn’t bother to untie the third rope, but pulling his own rope free, got to his feet and began to ascend the first pancake of the tower, moving toward the back to get out of the sight of the archers. He moved quickly. Sheltered by the stone tower, he began to climb up to his friends. A rope snaked down from above. He looked up and saw Al at the other end. Al gave him a thumbs up, and Dave ascended rapidly.
At the top, he found his friends under an overhang peering up the cliff.
“What’s Bigelow doing?” asked Dave.
“I think he’s going to send them straight down to follow you. We’ll make them pay,” said Chartrand. Dave gave his rifle to Larsen who was the better shot. The shooters picked their targets and kept up a slow but steady fire.
“Well, it didn’t take long to discourage them,” said Chartrand. “Now they’re moving to plan B. They’ll likely come down in two bands, one on the left and one on the right. I’m expecting them to rush us from both sides at once.”
Nothing happened for about twenty minutes. Then Linder shouted, “Here they come.” The gunfire continued sporadically, but the shooters had trouble seeing their enemies in the dim light. When Bigelow’s men had crept closer, they began to fire crossbow bolts. It became very dangerous for Larsen and the others to return fire. Five minutes later, twenty, maybe thirty of Bigelow’s soldiers were crouched under the lowest pancake overhang at the base of the tower. Two more parties had taken cover and were firing their crossbows to keep the defenders pinned down.
“Here they come again,” said Linder. Simultaneously, the soldiers started the ascent while arrows rattled off the stone overhang. Dave gave up trying to lean over to shoot and began to drop rocks over the edge to dislodge the attackers. He heard a shriek as a rock found its mark.
This is what I was afraid of. It’s only a matter of time, Dave thought.