[Child of the 7th Age]

Daisy paced nervously within the confines of her cell. The girl counted how many times she'd circled back and forth, trying to keep her body moving so her mind would not despair. She found herself dreading that something had gone wrong. Perhaps some complication had delayed the rescue, or, even worse, a disaster had befallen her friends on the Star. Images of Piosenniel and Kali sprang to mind as she struggled to hold back tears.

The keys to the Locks were tucked securely under her sash. She'd taken two of the smuggled daggers and strapped them beneath her skirts. By now, Gamba should have come. Days ago, they'd decided on their plan with scribbled notes and whispered words spoken under cover of darkness. Gamba was to drop by early in the evening so that she could push the keys through the grate. That way, he could unlock the cells the minute the attack began. But long hours had passed, and the boy had not appeared.

Daisy knew what had happened to Esta. Even in her solitary cell, she could hear guards and prisoners discussing the girl's death. There'd been a lot of talk about how hard the boy was taking things. Perhaps, Gamba had been so weighed down by grief that he'd neglected to do his job. Yet she found that puzzling. In the morning, he'd whispered assurances to her that the rescue would go forward. He expected to return to the Locks that evening.

Outside, in the guardroom, everything looked normal. The Men were taking turns at a game of chance, hurling the dice onto a table and bickering back and forth. Things looked so normal that, for one instant, Daisy wondered if she'd been forgotten. Perhaps she'd still be trapped inside her cell when the great wave came crashing in. But, no. Her friends had promised. They would not let that happen to her, not while they had a single breath left in their bodies. At the least, Piosenniel would have gotten a message through to explain the delay.

Daisy squatted on the floor and began scraping at the soil where she'd hidden the other daggers. No message of delay had come. Whatever Gamba's absence might mean, she would have to trust her friends. With calm assurance, she waited and watched for the first sign that the attack had begun.

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The soft grey veil that masked the passing of the Elven ships slowly crept towards land. As fog inched over the edge of the graveyard, four figures huddled close. They seemed uncertain where to go.

The tallest one, just six-years old, impatiently stamped his foot. “Prisca said so. She’s big. She should know.”

“Roka, she could be wrong,” Asta spoke with hesitancy. He usually deferred to his brother, but now he wasn’t sure.

“No, I’m right. Those men had Esta. Then they came for Gamba. But I’m going to get him back.”

The boy glared into the darkness. His determination was apparent. He fixed his hand on a heavy shovel that workers had left behind earlier in the day. Unable to lift it, he dragged the implement behind him, intending to use it as a weapon when the need arose.

“Anyways, this is where Miss Cami took us to see Esta. So Gamba has to be here somewhere.” Roka glanced nervously about as he spied dozens upon dozens of freshly dug graves.

“But I don’t see him,” Ban disagreed. He was younger than the other two, but wanted to help in some way.

The smallest, a child of less than three years, said nothing during this conversation. He stooped on one of the soft earth mounds, probing fat little fingers into the soil. As he dug, he childishly intoned, “Gamba here! Gamba here!”

Ban finally told him to stop. “Be quiet!” he warned. “Or someone will hear.”

Roka, their leader, surveyed the field and admitted, “Everything looks different. I’m not sure which way to go.”

At that instant, a trumpet bellowed through the skies. A sound close to thunder rang in the childrens’ ears. Tremors shook the ground beneath their feet. At first, their hearts were filled with terror. Then they stepped back to stare overhead and caught a distant glimpse of a wondrous black and silver creature with great gliding wings.

Maura was the last to gaze upward. His face was bathed in a light of incomparable beauty. The toddler could somehow pierce through the shadow to sense the goodness of the beast. “Pretty birdie. Good birdie. Maura find.” He ran down the hill as fast as his legs would carry him, heading in the general direction where he’d seen the creature. The other three children came running along behind.
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Throughout the evening, Nitir watched as hobbits slipped quietly from the games, one or two at a time, to make their way to the tool shed. Some would join the tackling teams assembling in the passageways. Others returned to the main cavern, their weapons hidden beneath their clothes, waiting for the moment when lights would be extinguished and the final assault begun.

Now, her own time to leave was at hand. She nodded to Azra to let her know she was going. The girl would catch up later, after her duties in the main cavern had ended. As she'd been instructed, Nitir tried to walk in a slow and casual way which would not arouse suspicion.

She had only a short distance to go. The children and others requiring assistance were already gathered inside the study. They had carefully considered all the possibilities before deciding on this location. The study was the largest alcove in the tombs which stood closest to the river tunnel. It was also the chamber where Loremaster stayed so his presence there would not alert the guards to anything unusual.

By the time Cami entered the room, the children had awoken and were sitting in their groups waiting to exit. Ruby, one of the twelve-year olds, was scouting out the passageway. She returned with a big smile, "All's quiet. I only saw the study guard, and he was half asleep. No general alarm has been sounded yet."

There was a brief discussion on the best way to proceed. The guards were still in the main cavern watching the games. No one had predicted these would drag on so long. The lengthy competition was a blessing to those who were securing the outer passages and taking out the perimeter guards. But to Nitir and the other escorts, this situation posed a challenge. While it was unlikely the guards would pay close attention to the river tunnel, its mouth was visible to them if they stood up and craned their necks.

Everyone agreed it was better to be cautious than sorry. They would need to modify their original plans. A group with fifteen children and five escorts was just too large. It would be easily noticed by the guards.

"Let's send them through in smaller groups," Loremaster suggested, "at least initially."

"Nitir, take four or five children with you. Go all the way to the river, and make sure the hobbrim are waiting for us. Let those five be the first to board the ships. Then, come back about half way up the passage, and wait."

"What then?" she asked.

"Just stay there. We'll send the rest through in small groups. The elderly and infirm will be mixed in with the children and adults just like a large family would be. They'll come to the midpoint of the tunnel, and you'll escort them to the river.

"What about weapons?" Nitir asked.

"Pearl and Ruby have covered us on that. They were able to smuggle them into the tunnel earlier today. Every morning the jugs are sent down to the river in wheelbarrows and then brought back with water to the kitchens. The girls hid the weapons in the straw, and then left them in a concealed cleft of the tunnel wall which we've known about for a number of years. Pearl will show you where they are."

Nitir had already strapped a dagger to her waist under her belt. She planned to use the lance Kali had picked out for her. She also intended to carry her bow. Nitir doubted she'd find a use for it since the passages in the tombs were very narrow. But, somehow, she couldn't leave it behind.

"Nitir, Pearl will be going with you to help identify the children. Keep track of the numbers and names as best you can so we're sure everyone gets through."

Cami smiled. She was to escort the first group down to the ships. That was no small thing. Get the weakest and smallest out first, she reminded herself.

She took two of Mika's toddlers, one on her right side and the other on the left. Then she selected two five-year olds, Bungo and Peony, who looked to be among the most frightened of the group. Their small fingers clutched tightly onto her skirts.

Finally, Loremaster handed her a tiny little thing to tuck into her sling. It was a babe, but a few days old. "This one is special. She's the last born in the tombs, or so we hope. Sadly, she's an orphan. Her father was taken in the selection. Her mother so worn with grief and work that she died giving life to her."

"Such a pretty little child," Nitir kissed the top of her head. "What is her name?"

"She does not have one yet. Perhaps her name will come to us tonight."

Loremaster turned and smiled at them. "You, all of you, hold our future in your hands. Take care, and keep track of who gets through."

Nitir nodded and scurried the children out of the alcove and around to the left. Only a short distance to go, and they'd reach safety.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]