by T. Norman
“I pissed off the wrong people,” Carn replied. “And you?”
“Wrong place at the wrong time.” The man coughed as he spoke. Carn could tell he had been down here for a while. Carn didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t place where he knew this man, but he knew he couldn’t dwell on that now.
“What would you say if I told you I could get us out of here?” Carn whispered to the man. He knew the guards posted at the top of the steps were well out of earshot, but he didn’t want to risk anything.
The man chuckled. “I would say I’m interested. What did you have in mind?”
Carn explained his plan to the man, in as much detail as he could. “So, are you in or are you out?” he concluded. Carn knew he had little time to escape before Lady Velmar would have his head.
“Count me in.” The man reached a hand through the bars to shake Carn’s as a sign of their agreement. Carn moved forward to shake the man’s left hand, noticing that his right was severed above the elbow.
“What happened to you?” Carn asked, gesturing toward the man’s arm.
“Like I said: wrong place, wrong time.”
“All right, let’s do this,” Carn said as he laid back down on the ground in the same position he woke up in. The man started coughing and crying out for help.
Carn heard the door at the top of the steps open and the sound of feet as the guards hurried down toward the cells.
“Over here,” called one guard to the other, his torch lighting their way. They stopped outside Carn’s cell to make sure he was still passed out. Once they were satisfied, they continued to the distressed prisoner.
“He’s choking on something, give him a hand,” said the bigger man of the two. “I’ll keep watch.”
The small guard moved toward the choking prisoner to try and see what was wrong with him, but he was rolling on the ground coughing and making choking sounds, and the guard couldn’t hold him still.
During the commotion, Carn slowly rose to his feet and edged his way toward the bars of the cell. The large man was keeping an eye on his friend assisting the prisoner on the ground, his back toward Carn’s cell. When Carn got to the bars he reached through, put one hand on the man’s mouth and twisted his neck, snapping it.
Carn fumbled for the man’s keys, the other guard still unaware.
“Hey, Olan, give me a hand here,” the guard grumbled. He turned to see his friend lying dead on the ground and Carn standing in the open door with a bloody sword in his hand.
“Sorry, he’s busy.” Carn lunged at the man and in one swift movement ended his life. “Good work.” He reached down to help the other prisoner. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Which way?” inquired the other prisoner. “There’s most likely more guards up those steps.”
Carn nodded. “You’re right. Thankfully, there is another stairwell that leads to the servants’ quarters. We can get out through there.” Carn remembered from his many visits to interrogate prisoners in these same cells. He started walking down the hallway. “Follow me,” Caen called over his shoulder.
They found the stairway abandoned, following it upward until they reached the top. They moved through the empty quarters, grabbing clothing to disguise themselves. “Once we get outside we need to move quickly, but not so fast as to attract unwanted attention,” Carn instructed.
“That’s going to be hard with this.” The grizzled man held up his amputated arm. Carn realized he hadn’t looked at the man’s face since they found light. He recognized him, but still didn’t know how.
“Keep your arms at your side and hopefully no one will notice.” Carn knew it would be risky, but they needed to get to the stable unnoticed. They cracked open a side door to see a crowded road leading to a number of shops.
“Big crowd should make it easier to hide,” the other prisoner surmised.
Carn nodded. “We just need an opening to make it out undetected.” He peeked around the corner to see a large wagon with haybales on back. “When that wagon goes by it will give us cover, and it should lead us to the stables.” Carn was opening the door more fully when he heard shouts from the stairwell behind them. The dead guards had been found; they needed to move quickly. “Let’s go!” He opened the door and briskly moved behind the wagon.
The two men walked with their heads down, following the wagon. No one stopped or questioned them; the privileged in Vendos didn’t notice the beggars and peasants who roamed through the city.
Carn looked up to see their goal in front of them. “There are the stables. Can you ride with your arm?”
“I’ll be fine.” Carn felt a chill go up his spine at the words. He knew this man but he still couldn’t figure out how. Once they made it to safety Carn would question the man, but right now they needed to escape.
They found the stables abandoned except for a stable hand and the man who had been driving the haywagon. The two looked up in surprise as Carn opened the door.
“I don’t think you should be in here.” The stable hand examined Carn, and figuring him for a peasant, brushed him off without a thought.
“I don’t think Lady Velmar would appreciate you holding up her plans.” The boy jumped at Velmar’s name.
“Captain Sharpe?” He cocked his head in confusion. “I didn’t recognize you in your . . . choice of clothing. What can I do for you?”
Carn hoped his arrest hadn’t been made public, giving him a clean getaway. “I’m heading out on a mission. I am going in disguise so I need mounts for me and my companion.”
“Of course, no problem at all!” the boy quickly agreed. He moved with haste to saddle up two small mares. “These are our two most reliable horses.” He sounded proud of the animals.
“Good.” Carn inspected the animals and agreed they were both in fine shape, which would make their journey easier. “I won’t be able to return them, but in a week you can pick them up in Gold Pass.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy sounded proud that he was able to help out the captain.
Carn mounted his horse, with the grizzled man following his moves, and left the stables without another word. They trotted their horses out of Vendos without trouble.
Once outside the city they set off at a gallop heading due east. After a mile, Carn changed course and began heading south. They slowed down to a walk, to save the horses’ energy.
“Gold Pass?” the man asked suspiciously of Carn.
With a smile, he said, “They’re going to find out we took the horses eventually, so why send them in the right direction?”
“Where are we going, then?”
“I’ll tell you,” Carn turned to look at the man, “If you tell me how I know you.”
A smile swept across the one-armed man’s face. “I was wondering if you would recognize me. We met nearly a fortnight ago.”
Carn realized who the man was. “Who did that to your arm?”
“One of Lady Velmar’s errand boys,” he responded coldly.
Carn shook his head. “That was not what I intended. I’m sorry I put you through all of this.”
“It’s all right; thanks to you, I’m going to get my revenge.” Carn watched as a smile spread across Don Klight’s face.
16
As Rysh sat staring at the night sky, he rubbed his neck where Carn’s blade had been inches away from ending his life. After rescuing Gant they rode late into the evening, finally stopping to rest when they thought they were a safe distance away.
Rysh had volunteered to take watch, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. The others had laid down for the night, but he heard rustling coming from where they were sleeping.
He turned to see his son walking over to join him. “Can I sit with you?” Gant asked.
“Of course.” Gant sat down next to his father as Rysh placed an arm around his son’s shoulders. “How are you?” He hadn’t had a chance to talk to his son in private since they rescued him. He knew he had gone through a lot and probably had many questions.
&n
bsp; Gant clenched his jaws as he spoke. “I’m fine, just tired.”
Rysh knew his son was putting on a brave face, and he wanted him to feel comfortable opening up. “Tell me what happened, all of it.”
With a sigh, Gant reluctantly began telling his father what happened after he was captured, finding it easier to talk as he went on. He told of his encounter with Lori in the wagon and how he yelled at her. He told about how Gayle got sick and how Carn killed him. He spared no details, letting his emotions free with his story.
“I’m so sorry,” Rysh finally said, overwhelmed at all that his son had gone through. “I never should have left you.”
“It’s okay, Dad, I’m just glad you came to save me.” Gant looked up and smiled at his father.
Gant was always optimistic; Rysh was thankful that he hadn’t lost that. “What can you tell me about Carn?” He had finally learned the name of the man who attacked Wayton and killed his friends, and he wouldn’t soon forget it.
“He scared me. At times he seemed really nice and friendly, and other times I wasn’t sure if he was going to explode or what.” Rysh knew Carn had been probing Gant for information, and hated that the man had gotten so close to his son.
“I have to ask you something, and I want you to be honest.” Rysh had his suspicions, but he figured he should ask his son for the truth. “Did you let him live?”
Gant looked away from his father, ashamed of himself. “He helped put Gayle out of his misery so I didn’t have to. I owed him one.” Rysh smiled to himself, glad that his son wasn’t a born killer.
“That’s all right, killing isn’t the only option.” Rysh pulled his son close. “I’m proud of you; you’re a smart young man. I know your mother would be proud, too.”
The two sat up for hours talking about anything to distract them from the trials they had faced. As the sun rose they decided it was time to get moving and woke the others. They broke camp without breakfast, choosing instead to put more distance between themselves and Vendos.
By midday, everyone was exhausted. Rysh hadn't slept more than a few hours in the past two days and they all were hungry from the lack of food.
"We need to stop and rest," Alric finally said, breaking the silence of the group.
Rysh shook his head. "There's no time. We have to keep moving."
"If we keep going at this pace, we’re going to kill ourselves," Julia snapped at Rysh. Rysh knew she was upset and tired; he didn't blame her for lashing out at him.
Rysh conceded to stop and rest, making camp off the path they were following along a bluff.
When they moved to dismount, Rysh stumbled out of his saddle and collapsed to the ground. He didn't have enough strength to push himself back up.
"Don't, we’ll take care of it," Gant told his dad, trying to make things easier on him. "Julia, can you get my dad some water and then help Mic set up camp?"
"I have some herbs in my bag that should help him," Julia quickly responded. Mic simply nodded his agreement to Gant's plan.
"All right." Gant turned to Alric. "Bors, can you take care of the horses, make sure they are fed and watered, and then gather up some firewood?"
"If you remember to use my real name, then yes," Alric said with a smile. He liked the young boy and knew he had only recently heard the story of who he really was. He was only giving Gant a hard time in jest.
"Sorry, my mistake," Gant said apologetically. He then turned toward Apo'k, who was crouched on the ground with Ros lying at his side and his hawk perched on a branch above him. "Can you check and see if we’re being followed?"
"Of course," Apo'k said, his thick accent ringing out. "What will you be doing?"
"I'm going to go hunting, get us some fresh food. Can I take Ros with me?"
Apo'k nodded and they all set off to their given tasks, little discussion among them. Rysh was impressed with his son, who had stepped up and organized the group. A few weeks ago he had only worried about playing with his friends; now he went off in the woods to hunt for food not only for his survival, but also the survival of five others.
Gant sat watching a game trail, waiting for signs of life. Ros laid at his side, eyes closed, giving the illusion that she was sleeping, but Gant knew she was simply waiting.
A twig broke, alerting Gant. He nocked an arrow and raised his bow at the source of the noise. Ros lifted her head and cocked it sideways.
After a few minutes, a large deer walked into view. Gant raised his bow to fire but instead he slacked his arrow, choosing to admire the creature, its natural beauty.
After a few moments he drew and released his arrow, dropping the deer in one clean shot. He rose and walked over toward the creature.
"Nice shot." Apo'k made Gant jump, seeming to come out of nowhere.
"Thanks." Gant knelt down by the dead animal. "She looked so peaceful. I didn't want to kill her."
"My people believe that all life is created equal." Apo'k stood at Gant's side. "We do not kill for pleasure, but it is a way of life. Creatures live and die, and they kill each other to survive."
"How do you live with knowing that you ended a life?" Gant had never killed anyone, but he knew that probably wouldn't last for long.
"All life is cherished. When I kill, I thank Bal’loc for life and I ask for peace." Gant hadn’t grown up with a formal religion, but he knew that people from Lyedos worshiped Bal’loc, a being who created all life.
Gant bowed his head and said a simple prayer in his head. Thank you for the life of this animal. Let its meat nourish our bodies and its spirit find rest. Gant had never prayed before, and the words felt odd saying them in his head. There was a calming peace to the prayer that gave Gant hope for continued development.
"That really helped." He looked up at his new friend. "Thanks."
"No problem. Now let's see if you know how to clean that deer."
Rysh woke up to the smell of smoke. He turned to see Gant sitting by a small campfire talking to Julia. They were laughing, something Rysh hadn't seen from either in over a week.
"Good morning," Rysh said as he sat up.
"Dad!" Gant exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"
Rysh couldn't help but wonder at how happy his son looked. "I'm good, a little hungry and thirsty, though." A little was an understatement. As Rysh spoke his stomach let out a loud growl.
"I can bring you some water," Julia said. She dipped a cup into a water bucket and brought it over to Rysh. "Gant got us some fresh meat, if you would like some."
"I would love that, thanks." Rysh was happy to see these two getting along and taking charge of the situation. Rysh looked around for the others, finding Alric sleeping soundly under a tree. "Where’re Mic and Apo'k?"
"They went to scout ahead. Apo'k saw a road and wanted to make sure we got our bearings," Gant said.
Rysh enjoyed the fresh meat as they chatted until the others arrived. Mic and Apo'k rode into camp looking optimistic.
"Glad to see you’re up," Mic called to his friend.
"What did you see?" Rysh was thankful that Gant had stepped up to help, but he felt better after resting and was ready to lead again.
"We’re just north of the long road, which we should try to avoid,” Apo’k reported. “We should reach Arbor Gold by sundown. Once we do, we can cross the road and follow the river south toward Port Sarim."
"Did you see any traffic on the road that we should worry about? Are we being pursued at all?" Rysh didn't want to take any chances at being followed.
"I flew back to Vendos and didn't see any signs of pursuit. I did notice a couple riders leave in a hurry, but they were heading due east."
Rysh was thankful for Apo'k's abilities; they had proved quite helpful more than once.
"Good,” he replied. “We should get moving. I want to get south of the long road before we stop for the night." Rysh felt a sense of determination with their new plan. Things were finally starting to look up for the group.
They woke up Alric and began to break
camp, everyone was in high spirits. Rysh noticed Gant and Julia laughing and smiling at each other as they left camp. He couldn't help but smile at the two as they tried to sort out their feelings for each other. How fun to see budding young love, mused Rysh.
17
Tyrell's vision began to blur from exhaustion. He wiped at his eyes, noticing that candle wax had begun to drip onto his stack of books. He looked out the window to see the sun starting to rise. He knew his father would be upset with him but he didn't care. Tyrell rose from his chair and left the library, making his way through Castle Mordin to his chambers.
The halls were dark and cold; Tyrell could feel the chill of winter creeping closer every day.
"Good morning." Tyrell knew immediately that he had been caught. He turned to see his father, Lord Hugh Inglest, standing in the hallway with his arms crossed. "Late night?"
"I fell asleep in the library," Tyrell lied. "I didn't mean to." He knew his father didn't believe him, but it was the game they played day after day.
"Go and get changed, I expect you at your training after breakfast." Tyrell had been training to become a knight since he was a child, but he always felt out of place. He was smaller than the other boys in his class, and they often beat him up.
"Yes, father," Tyrell complied. He knew there was no way around it. After a few hours it would be over and he could go back to his studies.
Tyrell felt even more out of place in the castle since his mother had disappeared. His father was a fighter, unlike his mother, who spent her days reading from her massive library. This was where Tyrell also spent his free time.
As he arrived in his room he quickly put on his clothes for morning training and made his way to breakfast.
The great hall was nearly empty except for a few guards, a couple of maids, and Lord Hugh. Tyrell sat at the opposite end of the table from his father, wanting to avoid the superficial conversations he was so prone to starting.
