by Riley Keene
How could she possibly explain her presence here?
Elise looked around in the gloom. Her dark vision had adjusted slightly since her first glance and she was able to make out a long a cleaning brush. She resolved to grab it and act as though she were sent to fetch it, if she were caught.
Her caution was unnecessary.
She watched the feet stride past her hiding place and continue along the hallway. Elise hurried to her feet, grabbing the brush anyway. It was as good of an excuse as any. Props always helped sell a story.
After a moment, Elise crept back out into the hallway, looking both ways to ensure the hall was empty before she resumed her purposeful walk.
It was pure luck that she remained unseen the rest of the way to the area Athala had suspected of being the armory. She peeked into one of the designated rooms and found a room of partitioned shelves filled with personal effects. She lingered for a moment, looking for their own things before she realized the partitions were labeled with names, and some were vacant, but still labeled.
The room must have been where the guards’ personal effects were stored while they were on the premises. While there was a chance of finding what they needed—a guard might have a dagger or other weapon among their personal effects—the armory must be nearby if the guards were frequently in this area when reporting in and out of the prison.
That, and Ermolt would have had reservations about pilfering from individual people instead of from the prison establishment itself.
The second door she checked was indeed the armory she sought. It was a little strange to her that the room sported a tall ceiling with high windows, but she decided not to complain when she was able to see without needing a candle or torch. Having a light source would only have raised suspicion of activity inside the room while she was finding what she needed.
There were shelves along the inside wall, with smaller items, like weapon sheaths and armored boots, and racks along the outside wall where the larger weaponry and armor were stored.
Most of the weapons were simple blunt instruments. Many were made of wood, but there was a rack of iron clubs that were obviously intended for more serious engagements. Regardless, she would not be able to sneak such a large weapon out of the armory.
Luckily, there was also a shelf full of sheathed daggers, weapons she was very capable of concealing. She grabbed a belt off of an armor rack and quickly slid three sheaths over it. Elise pulled up her tunic and wrapped the belt around her torso, just above her waist. Elise fastened the belt and lowering her tunic, adjusting to minimize any bulges. After a moment she nodded, pleased with how well the daggers hid under her clothes.
Elise knew she wouldn’t be able to find anything that would be both easy to carry and sized appropriately for Ermolt, so she decided to compromise. Fetching a pair of leather gauntlets, she tucked them into the waist of her pants and then grabbed a pair of metal bracers.
She paused for a moment, trying to consider how to hide them on her body. The sleeves of her tunic were too short to hide them on her own arms, but the legs of her pants reached to her ankles. She was able to fasten them to her lower calves with only mild discomfort. Ermolt would be able to handle the lightly-armored guards with his hands alone with the bracers and gauntlets providing protection from damage to his knuckles. If he wanted a better weapon than that, he’d have to take one from the guards.
As she headed to the door, adjusting her stride to accommodate her new acquisitions, she heard approaching voices. Her instincts took over, squashing her panic before she could lose a second to it. She quickly ran to the far end of the room, considering her options.
Unlike the cleaning supply closet, there was no excuse that could get her out of this place smoothly. She needed to not be seen, and she could not count on being lucky enough to have guards walk past the room she was in a second time.
A quick glance to the armor racks dismissed them—if anyone coming in was actually in here for a reason, it was possible they could be going directly to the armor racks to grab or return their gear for the shift. The same went for the shelves, which were wide and deep enough for her to hide in. Again though, the guard’s purpose for coming to this room would likely involve the items on the shelves. It would be a gamble that might prove fatal.
After a moment’s pause to consider, decided to go straight up. Bending at the knee, she pushed off and leapt into the air. Elise grabbed the highest shelf she could reach, and began to climb up. The shelves were bolted to the wall, and it held her weight as she clambered to the top of the structure. She rolled back against the wall, pressing against it as flat as she could, ignoring the belt of daggers poking into her torso and the chafing of the bracers against her calves.
Up here, she would not be visible from the floor unless someone was a mountain savage. Not even Ermolt could see her this high up. If she stayed quiet, she should be able to go unnoticed.
Elise held her breath as the door opened, the muffled voices becoming clear as the guards entered. She didn’t dare peek, but she heard two different voices.
“—can’t believe he’s already in the city again,” a male voice said. “I saw him when he was last here two months ago, and I didn’t think he was supposed to be back again for at least another year.”
“Are you complaining?” another male voice shot back. “I wasn’t converted until last month so I’m happy for the chance to hear his words from his own mouth.”
“No, of course not!” the first guard said, defensively. “I just mean that something else must be going on. There’s got to be somewhere else in Neuges he intended to be right now. His following is pretty strong here after his last appearance. Don’t know why he’s here when he could be speaking somewhere where a well-placed sermon could build support where it’s weakest.”
“Maybe he’s trying to build a more serious following here?” the second guard said, his voice slightly muffled. Elise assumed from the shuffling sound somewhere below her that he was removing his armor.
“In Khule? No way. If he wants to build a serious following anywhere, it wouldn’t be a city with a major temple in it. The Temple of Ydia means he’s going to face a lot of resistance if he tries to make his stand here. Especially with the commoners.”
“I guess if he wanted to go public, he’d do it somewhere he couldn’t be immediately cast out as a heretic, huh?” The voice came from directly below Elise, startling her. There was no shout of surprise, so she forced herself to relax. She closed her eyes tight and regulated her breathing before she panicked.
“Yeah, if he tried something here he’d need to have some real influence with Ydia Herself—not just the clergy—unless he wanted to start a holy war over it.” There was a grunt. “Can you help me with this?”
“Sure.” There was a shuffle below, and a pause in the conversation, giving Elise a moment to think. A holy war with Ydia? Who were they talking about? Was a rival God trying to establish dominance in the region?
It had been decades—if not centuries—since the last time a God made a real play to shake up the religious distribution of the world. There was a standing agreement—spoken or unspoken, you could never tell with the Gods—that the current status quo was beneficial to everyone. If someone was violating that, it could mean big problems.
“Thanks,” the guard said eventually. The shuffling continued below. “And you’re right. He doesn’t want a holy war unless he knows he can win it, and going up against Ydia in Her own city would be like throwing himself on his own sword. He’s not that stupid. So then, what is he doing back here?”
“Does it matter? If there’s something going on that he needs to be here to deal with himself, then it’s so far above our heads that it can’t possibly be any concern of ours. If he’s here dealing with it, that’s a good thing. That means it’ll get handled properly and in our favor.” The voices began moving back toward the entrance to the room.
“Well, I’m not wondering because I think it’s a problem I ca
n help with personally. I’m wondering out of curiosity. Don’t get me wrong, if he asks for volunteers, I’ll be first in line, but I just want to know—” The voice finally cut off with the sound of the door closing, the conversation reduced to a distant mumble.
Elise let out a large sigh. What she overheard was concerning, but like them, she couldn’t worry about it. Even if she didn’t have more immediate concerns, it was likely that any conflict between the Gods was being handled far above her rank as a Conscript, possibly even by Ydia herself.
Elise crawled along the top of the shelf carefully, making as little noise as possible as she moved toward the door. She lay still above the door, listening for anyone else approaching the room. After a few moments of silence, she clambered down from the shelf. She listened again at the door, just to be certain.
When she was sure no one was approaching Elise slipped out of the armory. She resumed her most purposeful walk as she headed back towards the more prisoner-friendly areas of the prison. Again she only walked by one patrolling guard on the way back, and again they gave her a second look, but let her move on.
Elise returned to the yard just as the prisoners were beginning to vacate it, and so began to make her way back inside as well. Disappearing in a crowd was easy enough. It was with very little effort that she made her way back to their cell.
Two guards were waiting by the cell when Elise came around the corner. Panic rose in her throat like a caged beast and she almost turned to run. They looked up at her with stoic glares that chilled her to the bone.
A third guard emerged from the cell with Athala in tow. The wizard was wide-eyed but walking of her own accord. The two of them shared a moment of eye contact, and the look on Athala’s face broke Elise’s heart. Whatever was about to happen was entirely Elise’s fault. She could have saved Athala from another session with Ingmar. They could have been out and free, or at least have died trying. But now Athala was going to have to suffer, and it was all because Elise hadn’t returned fast enough.
And Elise feared that they both knew it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
During the half bell that Elise was gone, Athala tried to blend in with the other prisoners. No one approached them, which was good, but at one point Ermolt pointed out that prisoners were also actively avoiding them, which was bad. If either Ermolt or Athala got close to one of the groups, it would slowly disperse.
Getting a reputation in a place like this with your actions was one thing. A strong person who scared off others tended to be one of the safest people because people kept an eye on where you were at all times. But when you were marked and people avoided you, they avoided anything to do with you. So being outcasts worked against them, since people were actively trying to be anywhere but where they were.
Athala briefly wondered if it was the woman she’d embarrassed on Ermolt’s behalf, but she knew that was silly. Instead, it was just their status here. Ingmar’s personal pets. His pin cushions and his house guests, all rolled up in sackcloth wrapping.
Everything about Auernheim made Athala wish she were anywhere else.
As if Ermolt could sense Athala’s pending panic after the second group walked away, Ermolt requested that they go back to their cell. He cited a soreness that Athala could see right through, but she appreciated the thought nonetheless. Yard time would be ending soon anyway, and they would want to be somewhere easy for Elise to find.
After explaining their collective aches to the guards, Ermolt and Athala were escorted back to their cells. They weren’t locked in, so the escort itself seemed superfluous, but Athala assumed it was to keep up the appearances that they knew where the prisoners were at all times. Since neither of the guards asked about the missing Elise, Athala was certain it was all just a ruse.
As Athala and Ermolt lounged in wait, Ermolt explained that the next part of the day was for work, and most of the prisoners went to the shop room to complete tasks. But yesterday, while Athala had been gone, Ermolt and Elise were instead just left to their own devices, which Elise had used to bandage Ermolt up. As such, their plan was to just sit tight in their cell and wait for Elise, no matter what the other prisoners did.
Athala spent the downtime doing what she did all the time—practicing the missing runes of the spell. Something told her Ingmar wasn’t going to give back her rubbings even if she asked nicely, and so she practiced. And practiced. If they hadn’t been in Auernheim, Athala was sure Elise would have scolded her for obsessing. Which she was. But it was important to obsess when so much was on the line.
Athala was so focused on the Draconian runes that she didn’t even hear the guards when they entered the cell.
A swift kick to her thigh brought her to attention. Two guards were threatening Ermolt to stay where he was, which was on his cot against the wall. The guard next to Athala grabbed her upper arm and drug her to her feet.
“The Deputy Warden requests your presence,” the guard said gruffly.
Athala looked to Ermolt, but the barbarian had his hands full. Literally. He had both hands wrapped around a guard’s helmet and was trying to push the man away, but the second guard socked Ermolt in the stomach and he collapsed to the ground.
The guard on her arm jerked her toward the door. “Don’t make this any worse than it needs to be, wizard.”
“Did the Deputy Warden tell you what he plans to do to me?” Athala’s voice was soft and even, much to her own surprise.
“Doesn’t matter,” the guard responded with another tug.
“He’s going to cut me. Ingmar is going to cut into my flesh and bleed me all because he wants information. We’re being held here against our will because that man wants something and you’re an accomplice.”
The guard sighed as his companions left the room, taking up post on either side of the door. “Do you think you’re the first?” Athala jerked as if struck. “You do, don’t you?” The guard laughed quietly and pulled Athala close to his face. “Ingmar has been using Auernheim as a base of operations for years on behalf of whomever pays him. His methods get results, and so everyone pays.”
The man’s grip on Athala’s arm tightened and she held the scream that boiled in her throat. “I don’t even see your faces anymore. Just the broken rag dolls you become once he’s done. The pieces.”
Athala tried to snatch her arm away and the guard struck her with an open palm across her cheek. The pain was nothing compared to what she knew was coming, but the shock of the hit brought tears to her eyes. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t make me hit you again.”
“Do your worst,” Athala said. “Every mark on my skin will be another place that Ingmar won’t be able to mark himself.”
The guard shook his head. “Oh, we won’t touch a hair on your head. Your friend over there though, well, he’d be fair game.”
Athala looked over to Ermolt who had barely pulled himself up from the ground. He was coughing, and there were flecks of red in the spittle. “All I have to do is call them back in, and he’ll get another like he did yesterday. Only, now that we know you’ll fight, we’ll kill him.”
The words cut through Athala’s resolve faster than any other threat possible. She looked away from her friend. “Fine. Take me to that monster. And may Ydia curse you to darkness.”
The guard yanked hard on her arm as he drug her from the cell. Two steps out from behind the bars and she noticed Elise. The look of alarm on the Conscript’s face broke into despair and guilt as they locked eyes. That guilt was almost too much. Athala felt tears welling in her eyes and had to fight them back. There would be plenty of tears later. She’d need to be brave now.
Athala tried to retain her calm as she was led back towards the administrative area. She knew Elise and Ermolt wouldn’t leave without her, but the barest twinge of worry remained. She was most concerned with how she was going to deal with Ingmar.
Her ability to lie was limited. She had only succeeded last time because Ingmar had been so sure of his methods. N
ow that Ingmar knew she was capable of lying under such conditions, she was going to need to work much harder to convince him of anything.
Even if she told him the truth, he might just keep going, either in disbelief, or just to be vengeful.
Rather than taking her to Ingmar’s tacky sitting room, the guards brought her right to the interrogation chamber.
Fear once more crept up Athala’s throat, threatening to burst from her, but she forced it down. The sight of the implements on the table steeled her resolve. Ingmar knew she had lied before. Her best option now was to stay strong.
If she could come up with another convincing lie to get rid of him for another day, then they could escape before he returned for a third attempt.
Or, more likely, her approach would be to be as unfazed as possible. She would rely on every ounce of willpower to avoid giving him the screams and crying that he wanted. Eventually, maybe she would cause him to screw up in frustration. Cut a little too deep. And then she would be free.
The dark thought had a cooling effect, and Athala felt her anxiety dampen.
The guards tried to be forceful with her, but she went along with them too easily. They were unable to wrestle her onto the table simply because she hopped up before they could begin. She slipped her wrists into position in the restraints before they could slam them into place. Of course, they still tightened the straps to almost cruel levels, but she hoped they felt unsatisfied.
With her restrained, the guards didn’t stay by the door to keep her in. As soon as they were gone, Athala considered trying to wiggle free and escape, but the restraints were tight enough that she was unlikely to make progress. It would also undermine her attempts to appear strong if Ingmar came in and she was halfway out of the room.
She began to doubt her choice as the minutes passed. It was unlikely that Ingmar was just going to leave her here, but perhaps he expected the anticipation to be a part of the experience. With her fear forced down and firmly under control, the effect was more one of boredom.
