The Wretched

by Brad Carsten

  “So, what is this about getting into the Blackstone tower?” Livius said.

  “We heard that they may be holding a knight of the fallen in there,” Kaylyn said. “I need to speak to him. But I hear that getting inside could be difficult.”

  “Difficult? It's near impossible, and I certainly don't have the tools to help you.” He engaged the gears and the axe wound up slowly.

  She looked disappointed. “Madam Hollis was sure you'd be able to help us. Is there really nothing you can do?”

  “I didn't say there's nothing I can do. I said, I haven't got the tools. The cursed Lord Bowen send his thugs after my things and looted nigh half of what I had.” The axe swung, showering wood chips across the floor. “That's when I dug the moat, but it seems like you may have found a kink in my armour.” He gave Liam a withering look.

  “What did he take?”

  “Let me show you. It'll make it easier to explain.”

  He disengaged the gears and led them into the next room to what looked like an open well with a small circular platform floating on top. The platform had a roughly built railing around it.

  “Now this is between us, you understand me? There aren't many who have seen what I'm about to show you.” He waited for them to agree before thrusting a lantern into Liam’s arms.

  “I don't say this in jest. If the Lord knows what I have here, he'll send his thugs again to take it by force.”

  He clicked another series of gears into place, and took hold of a lever. “Right, now hold onto the railing. The craft has a tendency to spin.”

  He pulled. Something grinded through the walls, and then there came the sound of water draining away, and slowly the raft began to drop. Down they went, the patch of light above them growing smaller. The darkness crept in and the lantern cast a shallow ring of light across the wet stones.

  Where does it go? Liam asked, unsure if he was talking about the shaft or the water.

  “The shaft opens up into an old mine that goes down for miles.” Their voices echoed like they were spirits. Liam shivered at the thought, and the cold stones didn't help. “Fortunately, the shaft doesn't reach anywhere near the bottom of the mine.”

  It took a while before they finally reached a large metal door that opened into another room. As soon as they were through the door, Livius lit two more lanterns and hung them on the wall.

  Liam looked around in amazement at the strange assortment of items. There were suits of armour and weapons and shelves of small trinkets that Liam had no idea what they were used for.

  “What is this?” Kaylyn asked.

  “It's my collection of artifacts from before the kingdom existed. Well, the kingdom as we know it today. They're very old, so make sure that you do not touch anything.”

  Kaylyn walked around in open astonishment.

  There were huge paintings and tapestries hanging on the wall, and a collection of vases, but what he wanted to show them were the giant set of wings hanging on a stand in the middle of the room. Each wing began at the height of a man and hung almost to the floor.

  “This is how you're going to get into the tower. Well, in theory anyway.”

  “What do they do?” Kaylyn asked.

  “That’ll launch you over the wall, and bring you in for a soft landing.”

  Kaylyn looked at him skeptically. “It will launch you over the wall. But how? You've done some amazing things with all those cogs and water wheels, but I don't see how this could possibly work.”

  “Oh, it's not an invention like those. This is built by syphers.”

  “Syphers?” Kaylyn frowned. “I don't think that's quite right. Syphers draw from Gaharah. They can only destroy, they cannot build anything.” At the look he gave her, she quickly added, “So I've heard.”

  “You've been listening to the wrong people. Gaharah isn't the only place that a sypher can draw their power from. There's another stream as well that's good.”

  “That's impossible,” she said. “If that was true, I would have heard about it by now. I would have felt—I would have felt more comfortable.” Liam knew what she was going to say: that she would have felt the source of goodness somewhere, like she felt the streams of evil in her.

  “I can assure you that it’s true. They forged many of the items in this room.”

  “But, but why haven't we ever heard of such a thing then? Still looking skeptical, she reached out and touched the wings, and he slapped her hand away.

  “There is much this world has forgotten. As powerful as the kingdom is, they only built on one half of their foundation. What if I told you, that a long time ago the syphers were welcome in the kingdom—that they fought and worked alongside the soldiers, but of course, the kings didn't like that. They felt threatened by their power, as kings always do, but couldn't attack them directly; they couldn't be that blatant, and so they came up with a more subtle, more cunning way to destroy the syphers, by undermining them. They wouldn't do it in a day, or a year, but over decades. Bards were commissioned to tell stories and write new songs where the syphers were always the enemy. They were renamed from the syphers to the wretched. Their books were destroyed, along with any good thing that they had ever created. When the syphers in power died, they were replaced by people who couldn't cast. The shift was so subtle, that no one saw it, but it worked. Within three generations, the syphers had been marginalised. Those who could cast would keep the ability a secret, and their children would marry into other lines, forsaking their culture and diluting their power. A few embraced their roles as the wolf in a child's tale, and they separated themselves from society to form their own clans, but these were never large, and they never had much influence. Within a hundred years, no one remembered the syphers for who they were, and what they could accomplish. A people group were forever destroyed, but the throne was safe, and has been ever since.” Livius twisted his mouth, like he was ready to spit. “Yes, we don't know how it worked, but there was once some good in the wretched as well.”

  Kaylyn was so rattled, it looked like her legs would fall out from under her. She sat on the floor, right by the wings and stared up at them for the longest time.

  “So, we're going to use that to get into the tower?” Liam said.

  Master Livius shook his head. “No, this one doesn't work anymore.” He clicked a lever down on the harness to the lowest setting and then pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

  I had another two that were working, but that cursed Lord Bowen took them from me. I was transporting my collection through the Moraith forest, when he sent his strong-arms after me. I followed the dog that stole this pair, and bashed his head in with a rock, but they were damaged in the process. Now, I’m afraid it's worth nothing more than an old cloak. His companion got away with the other two pairs of wings along with some other valuable items.

  If you can get those back from him, you'll have your way in. If not,” he shrugged, “then I’m afraid I cannot be of any more assistance to you.”

  “How do you know this Lord Bowen was behind it?” Liam asked.

  “I had a rather productive talk with that brigand who took the wings. It's amazing what you can learn from someone after you've struck him on the head with a rock. It didn't do him any good in the end, but he told me everything I wanted to know.”

  “So, if we can get these wings for you, then we'll be able to use them to get into the tower? And you’ll help us?”

  “Yes, without it, you'll never make it up the wall short of building a siege tower, but get those wings, and we'll talk.”

  “There may be other ways over the wall?” Kaylyn's power could take down a wall, but she saw where he was headed and gave a quick shake of her head and touched the scrael around her neck to remind him that her scent was masked, and if she used her power again, the hunters would know where she was and come after her again.

  “Getting in isn't nearly as difficult as getting out again,” Livius said. The wardens have the place locked up tight. The only way anyone le
aves is by dying. But if you get my wings back, then I'll show you how to get out again.”

  Liam looked at Kaylyn, and she nodded.

  “Okay. We'll talk it through,”—He emphasised that last part, so that she'd know that he hadn't agreed to anything—“but in the meantime, what can you tell us about this lord?”

  Livius carefully draped a dust sheet over the wings again to protect them. “Let me tell you, Lord Bowen is as despicable as they come.” He waved a finger in the air. “He has thirty strong-arms ready to act on his every vile whim, and he can call on a hundred men from the nearest garrison if he needs to, which is less than forty minutes out by horseback. He uses his strong-arms for everything, and keeps every man of influence in pocket.” As Livius spoke, he became more agitated. “His fortunes have been built on the backs of others. He takes whatever he wants and over-taxes his people. He helps himself to any woman who catches his fancy, whether she’s spoken for or not, and he’s been known to keep his favourites locked up in his manor, and don’t get me started on his chief advisor, Sorrwyn.” He shook that finger at Kaylyn. “He too is cruel and ruthless, and where lord Bowen lacks intelligence, Sorrwyn is calculating and smart. He’s the one you really have to watch out for. This is the man you're dealing with.”

  “So how in the world are we supposed to get inside?” Liam asked. The more he heard, the less he wanted anything to do with this.

  “Oh, like the tower, that would be impossible without an army of your own. We’d need someone with friends in even higher places.” He gave Kaylyn a meaningful look.

  “Aaaah, so that's why you finally allowed us in,” Liam said.

  “Lord Bowen is the enemy of the kingdom,” Livius said, irritably. “So yes, I want a tyrant to finally understand justice, and of course, I want my wings back.”

  His face grew as dark as a thundercloud, and he shook a fist under Liam’s nose. “A creature like that wouldn't know the first thing about looking after them. For all he's done, he deserves nothing less than an army dragging him out of his cot at night and hauling him off to the tower, and if she can do it, then of course I’ll let you into my home. I’ll also cook dinner for you and dab your mouth with a napkin afterwards.”

  “It doesn't matter why you let us in,” Kaylyn said. “I’m afraid I’m not in charge of our forces. But there may be another way inside...”

  “Another way?” Livius frowned. “What other way?”

  “You mentioned that he takes any woman he wants. What if I could get him to notice me? Do you think he might? We wouldn't need an army if I'm invited in.”

  “No, that's a terrible idea,” Liam said, but Kaylyn wasn't listening.

  “How old is he?”

  “Sixty something, but age hasn't been kind to him, and far too much wine and good food and displeasure for bathing has taken its toll on him in the last few years. He looks much older than he is.”

  “He sounds delightful. So, if I decided to go through with it,” she gave Liam a challenging look, “how do we get this stallions attention?”

  “The best place would be in Narlsward.” He pounded a fist into his palm decisively. “Most avoid going out when he's there, but for those who are desperate or looking for favors. He keeps the whores of Narlsward in coin, but occasionally, someone else will catch his eye, and then not even staying indoors will help the poor girl, and if she's married, that's all the better for Bowen. He enjoys toying with the husbands, and watching their distress as their wives are taken, and they realise that they’re helpless to stop it.” Livius had balled his fists so tight, it looked like he was ready to wallop someone. “The Lord goes hunting today, and by this evening, he'll be riding into town looking for a woman to keep him warm. If you want to catch him, that'd be the time to do it.”

  “Whoa, wait a moment,” Liam said, throwing out a hand. “We're not really considering this, are we?” It was the worst idea he’d ever heard.

  “Do we really have a choice?” Kaylyn said. “We can't fight off thirty men on the way in, and then another hundred on the way out. If we want the wings, then I don't see any other way.”

  “Okay, but—can I speak to you, privately?” He drew her away by the arm without waiting for an answer.

  “Just think what you're suggesting here. This man is an animal—”

  “So were the nightspawn, and I did okay against them.”

  “I'm not saying that you can't do it. You’d stand a better chance in a fight than any of us, but how long will your power hold out? Thirty trained men aren't going to rush at you at once, and once you're outside, a lout with an arrow could drop you from the shadows. There's a reason we've made it this far together, which is further than any of us could have made it on our own. No, if we go against him, then we do it together.

  I'm not leaving you to die out there, but before I help, I have to know something. I have to know that I'm not just following a whim. You have said that Almswick is important to ending the war, and I need to know why?” Kaylyn had been holding out on him for far too long now.

  “I don't want you to help me. Not with this. As I said, if I go in alone, then I can do it as a guest.”

  “You won't be a guest. You'll be a prisoner. Can't you see how risky it is?”

  “Of course, I can see it.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I'm not going in there with my eyes closed, but I can also see that if we storm the gates, just the two of us, that would make it two against thirty—against a hundred and thirty. We wouldn't make it past the gates, and—” she turned away from him.

  “In Luthengard you told me that I've been nothing but a burden—”

  “Kaylyn, I was upset. I didn't mean that.”

  “It doesn't matter if you meant to say it or not. I've hurt enough people, and I'm not going to hurt you as well. You are one of the few people in this world that I truly care about, and I'm not putting you at risk.”

  Light failing, did she really care about him? He thought about how he had treated her lately which made it sting even more. “I’m not going to allow a degenerate to get his hands on you,” Liam said. “And we don't have to rush the gates. There are other more subtle ways in. Let's rest tonight, and we can head out first thing tomorrow morning to scout the manor, and then, if we have to wait until dark to break in, we'll do that. The wings aren't going anywhere. But if we do this, we do it together, okay? Like we've done up until now. Just give me one day, okay?”

  Kaylyn nodded, distractedly.

  Before they did anything though, he'd make sure that she was well and truly rested so that they wouldn't have a repeat of what happened in Luthengard.

  “Let’s get some rest now.”

  Livius had pipes running through the fireplace to heat up the water, and they each took a turn soaking in the tub. After being on the run for so long, it felt good to finally scrub the dirt off. Kaylyn was keeping to herself again, like she did in the beginning of their journey together, and after bathing, she went straight to bed.

  Liam spoke to Master Livius about some of his inventions, but soon, his eyes grew heavy, and he finally excused himself and headed upstairs.

  He yawned continuously as he undressed, and by the time his head hit the pillow, he was out.

  He dreamt about the Lord butchering a line of people. Each would step forward mindlessly and kneel before him, and he'd slit their throats, and all the while, he was laughing uncontrollably. Liam woke up with a start.

  Through the slats in the shutters, the moon painted lines across the dusty floor.

  He poured some water and was just settling back into his blankets, when he realised he could no longer feel Kaylyn. His instincts had grown stronger since meeting her, to the point where he could feel where the people were around him. He could still feel Livius, in a room above his, but he could no longer feel Kaylyn. Panic seized him like a hand to the throat, and he stumbled out of bed. She wanted to get those wings back, but she wouldn't just go off on her own, would she?

  “Kaylyn.” Lia
m burst into her room. “Kaylyn.”

  The bed hadn't been slept in, the blankets were undisturbed and the window was open.

  Liam ran to the window to see if he could see anything, a light perhaps, but she was gone, and for a long time already. He slammed his hand against the window ledge. Curse her. He should have seen this coming.

  He ran back to get his boots and his knife belt. He didn't know if she was in the town still or at the manor. The town was closer, so he'd head there first and hopefully stop anything from happening. He was taken back ten years to Brigwell, and Tarla, and the helplessness he'd felt when she took ill. He hadn't been able to help her, but he would help Kaylyn! He would help her!

  Chapter 24

  Kaylyn gathered her bundle of clothes, and whispering an apology to Liam, reached for the shutters. A bracket just below the window held one of the water wheels in place. Liam had a good idea earlier, and now she could use it to get away from the house. She edged along the beam, balancing herself on the wall, and reaching the end she threw the bundle of clothes onto the bank. She'd need those once she got out the river again.

  Getting down carefully, she slipped her legs over the edge. From this close, the wheel turned a lot quicker than it looked, the scoops flickering past her feet. She'd have a few seconds to climb over the scoop and hang on the edge, before the wheel turned too much, and she was tipped out into the dark waters below.

  She wasn't too worried about it, as she had always been good at climbing. Years of being stuck in a garden without anyone to play with would do that. She'd climb the old will tree, the tallest tree in the garden, and from there she'd have a view of the dirt road leading to Moringard, where she could watch the people riding past and imagine what they were like and where they were going. They were too far away to make out in any detail, but she'd dreamt that there was a man in more than one of those carriages who was coming to take her away from that cursed place—someone that she could fall in love with, and would love her despite what she was.