Knight Rising

by Jason Hamilton

  It was risky. If she failed, she’d lose her food privileges for a week.

  But it was also dark, very dark. And someone was looking out for her, it seemed. Perhaps she would get lucky, and...

  The echo of a distant shout filtered through her window. She turned to focus more on the sound. Other shouts followed. People were out tonight, a lot of them. What were they on about?

  Putting that out of her head, she made her decision.

  It was worth a try.

  Reaching her arms around the bars to her cell door, she felt at the lock. When she found the opening, she cautiously stuck the lock picks inside, careful to make as little noise as possible.

  It was not quick work. One of the picks was a little too thick, and it grated against the insides of the lock. The knight, assuming he had been the one to give her the lock picks, had neglected to include several different sizes.

  But suddenly, a satisfying click sounded from the lock as some internal mechanism snapped into place.

  Una barely dared breathe. But no sound came from upstairs, no one came down to check, though the shouts and commotion from outside were still continuing. Something was happening out there, and hopefully it would work in Una’s favor.

  One centimeter at a time, Una opened her cell door, wincing with each minor squeak of the hinges. When it was open enough, she slipped outside.

  For a moment she just stood there. Despite the darkness, something felt different about being outside her cell for the first time. She was...exposed, but in a good way. Liberated for the first time.

  Her heart began to beat faster, and her limbs trembled.

  No, she could not give herself too much room for hope. She still had to get out of the prison.

  Stretching her arms out to either side, her fingers finally pressed against the rough stone of the prison walls. She followed them, using her limited knowledge of the building’s layout to find the stone staircase that spiraled upward to the rest of the structure.

  She swallowed. There would be people up there. The jailor and guards. Escape was a stupid fantasy.

  But something compelled her to take one step, then another, and another.

  A warm light greeted her as she rose to the main level, not a lot of light, but with her eyes fully adjusted to the dark, it didn’t take much for her to see. The light was coming from outside, through a window and door at the end of a long hallway full of cells similar to Una’s. There was no one present, not that she could see.

  Her breathing came a little faster. Where was everyone? Could she really just walk out of here?

  Rationality caught up with her. She wouldn’t get far just wandering in the streets. Her prison clothes would give her away in a heartbeat. She didn’t even have shoes and wouldn’t get far barefoot. Her muscles already ached slightly from the effort of climbing the stairs. Despite her youth, she never had opportunities to stretch her legs, though she had done what she could to keep her muscles from atrophying.

  She looked around in the dim, warm light. Surely there was a cupboard or something with some spare clothes. The jailor lived here, right? He must have something stashed away somewhere.

  All she could see from here was a table with some notes on it, probably belonging to the jailor. Nothing she could use to escape or to use as a weapon. Just a standard quill and ink.

  But there were stairs leading up. There were probably more cells up there, but it could be where the jailor lived. Was he up there too, or was he distracted elsewhere? Only one way to find out.

  She dashed up the stairs as fast as she could, wincing as the wood creaked. These stairs made a lot more noise than those of stone that led down to her cell.

  Upon reaching the top, she still couldn’t make out much. There were no people visible. Everyone was somehow mysteriously gone. Maybe it had something to do with the shouting she had heard earlier.

  There weren’t any cells here, in fact all she could see were two rooms. The first contained nothing but a wash basin and a few chamber pots. Una wrinkled her nose upon smelling the contents of that room. She quickly shut the door.

  But the second room held a bed and cupboard, the warm light coming through a window to illuminate the entire place.

  She hurried inside to find the clothes she needed but stopped to stare out the window. Finally, she witnessed the source of the warm light.

  A nearby building was burning, completely engulfed in flames, though they appeared to be dying down a bit. Pieces of the building dropped off the side with a shower of sparks. It was literally crumbling to ash. She could see the illuminated silhouettes of people surrounding the burning building, but it wasn’t like their effort would do much against such a blaze. Perhaps they were just focusing on keeping the flames from spreading.

  That explained why there was no one here. Any guards would have run to help. She couldn’t count on all of them being gone long, but a prison like hers was really more of an ordinary building that just happened to house people in it. Like a stable for human beings. It wasn’t a fortress like some of the other prisons in Londinium. It was usually reserved for debtors.

  She turned her attention back to her current predicament. Spotting a large chest in the room, she opened the lid and began rummaging through it. She silently thanked the gods that the jailor was not a big man, barely larger than herself. Though it would be odd to see a woman in a man’s clothing, she could probably hide her hair in a cap and pass for a boy to anyone not looking closely.

  Quickly stripping herself of the sack that she had worn for years now, she pulled on the loose trousers and tunic. There were no hats that she could see, so she ripped off a piece of cloth to use as a scarf.

  Her heart was racing now. Escape seemed almost plausible, but the longer she stayed here, the more urgent her plight became. That fire wouldn’t last forever, and people would begin returning soon.

  The last thing she strapped on was a simple knife the jailor kept in the chest. It was nothing more than a hunting knife, but she could do a lot with little.

  That was it, time to go.

  She hurried down the steps, not even bothering to worry about the sound of creaking boards now. Which meant she nearly barreled into none other than the jailor at the base of the stairs.

  The man did not expect a thing. His eyes widened, and he fell over as she ran into him.

  “What the…” he began.

  Una did not pause to think. She grabbed the vial of ink that lay on the desk and threw it in his face.

  “Arg!” he yelled as the black substance got in his eyes. He clutched at his face, removing as much of the liquid as he could.

  But Una did not wait to see what happened next. She threw all her might into a punch that connected with the man’s temple. He crumpled to the ground, winded, but groaning. He was still conscious.

  She flew down the hallway, passing cell after cell. There were other prisoners there, yelling at her as she ran past, some reaching outside of their enclosures. She paid them no heed. She simply had to get away as fast as she could. The jailor would raise the alarm soon, and once that happened, she would have no chance unless she was well on her way out of the city.

  A dry, warm air greeted her as she exited the building. It was surrounded by a courtyard with a gate that, thank the gods, was open. They must have raised it so the guards could go help with the fire.

  She dashed forward, slipping out of the gates and down the street.

  She ran towards the fire at first. No one would suspect someone running at top speed if there was a burning building involved. But she was nearing Alders gate, her nearest exit out of Londinium.

  “Someone bring water,” she screamed as she now turned away from the burning building towards the city gate. It wouldn’t look suspicious to run through the city if she were urgently shouting for help. “Fire! Everyone bring your water.”

  Of course, hopefully no one noticed that she was running away from the river, the logical source of water for such circumstances.
But those she passed didn’t seem to mind. They were either running towards the fire, ignoring her completely, or diving back into their homes to find something of use.

  Una kept running, her muscles protesting madly. She hadn’t run in three years, and there was no way she could keep it up for long.

  When she spied Alders gate, she slowed down, gasping for air. The gate was guarded by a few Romans, but it was open, and plenty of people made their way in and out of the gate every day. Surely they wouldn’t notice her slip out.

  “Hey, you there,” said a voice above her.

  She froze in place, then putting on her best young-boy voice, she looked up at the rampart and said. “Yes, sir?”

  “It’s late, and you’re alone. Why are you leaving the city?”

  “Just to scavenge some dead logs for my master, sir. He likes to have a full fireplace for reading.”

  The Roman began walking down the stairs leading up to the rampart. This wasn’t good. If he got a good look at her, even at night…

  “It might not be the best idea to be stoking the fireplace, not tonight at least,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I only do what I’m told.”

  The man came closer, and Una instinctively hid her face.

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said upon approaching. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  Odd behavior for a Roman, far too friendly. Still, she couldn’t let his softness pull down her defenses. “Yes, sir. I will be, sir.”

  “Off you go,” he said. “And tell your master that Optio Calidore would remind him against wasteful use of his resources.”

  “I...I will do that, sir,” she said with bowed head.

  Unable to believe her luck, she darted forward, past the Roman Optio and through Alders gate. Unable to run much farther, she slowed to a brisk walk as her eyes adjusted to the newfound darkness outside of Londinium.

  The shouts from the fire diminished the moment she was outside, but in their place a new sound emerged, the clanging of an alarm bell.

  Instantly, she redoubled her speed. The jailor had finally sounded the alarm. She had to get far away from the wall before that Calidore person realized that she might have been the fugitive. He could send someone after her, and she could not outrun someone on horseback.

  But even in the dim light of night, something changed around her as she put distance between herself and the city. She was free, she was finally free! Never had the sound of wind through the trees, or the chill air on her body felt so good. She would never go back there, no matter what. It was time to go home.

  3

  She hurried along the path, finally allowing herself to think. Where had her rescuer gone? She hadn’t seen any sign of the knight from earlier, but someone had dropped those lock picks into the ditch by her window. Maybe they had started the fire too.

  Well, she couldn’t exactly go back and look for someone. She just had to push on and hope that she could escape Londinium before anyone came looking for her. If her rescuer did not find her, then so be it. She had other places to be anyway.

  She traveled on for some time until her feet began to grow sore. The jailor’s shoes weren’t exactly built for her. Combined with her general fatigue from having been locked in a cell for the last few years, and a growing sense of hunger, it didn’t take long before she was ready to stop.

  The problem was, she didn’t have many options. She had no money to buy food, which meant she could only steal it. If she was caught, it would be right back to prison for her, if she didn’t lose a hand first.

  She kept pushing on, feeling her strength continue to wane as she progressed. She would need to stop soon, with or without food. She needed rest.

  Up ahead, she spotted the warm light of an inn. Probably a stopping point between Londinium and one of its surrounding towns, where those who worked in the city could stop for a pint before returning home. Una’s eyes fluttered as she imagined the beds that an inn like that would have, with full blankets, probably more than one. Perhaps she could con a little money off someone there and use that for the night. It was either that or sleeping among the trees.

  She walked up to the inn, squared her shoulders and took off her bandana. People might find it weird that she was wearing a man’s clothing, but people also underestimated girls her age. She needed that advantage.

  The first thing she saw was a portly old woman wiping the counter behind the bar. Good, the place was run by a woman, or at least partially so.

  “Heavens,” said the innkeeper upon seeing Una. “What the devil have you been through?”

  It was only then that Una realized she was properly filthy. Her clothes were worn, but it was her face that was covered in dirt and grime from being locked up all the time. They’d rarely given her a bath of any kind in the prison. The Roman at the gate must not have noticed in the dark, but this place was lit with a fireplace in the corner and candles surrounding the room.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, in her most innocent voice. “I was hoping you might be able to spare a crumb or two.”

  The woman came around the side of the bar with a quick glance at the others in the room. Una followed her gaze to see the bar occupied by at least six people, most of them men. Two sat at the bar, but the rest were at the table playing dice. Perfect.

  “Of course, dear,” said the woman. “You’re nothing but skin and bone.”

  Una encouraged the woman’s motherly affection with a little shiver. It seemed to work, for the woman opened her arm to place it around Una’s shoulders, leading her further inside. A final glance at the men at the table showed that most had gone back to their dice and drinks.

  The woman led her through a doorway to the back where several counters sat for preparing food. There were also a variety of ale barrels stacked in one corner. But the woman led her to the back where a great basin stood.

  “Strip off those rags now, dear, and we’ll get you washed up.”

  Una looked at the woman. Strip? Here? She hadn’t expected a bath.

  “I’m sorry?” she said.

  “You heard me, girl.” The woman did not look like she would accept no for an answer. “I’ll boil some water to heat it up for you.”

  As she said this, she wandered to the back where another fireplace held a large kettle. The woman began filling the kettle with water from a jug.

  Una looked back at the basin. It was already full of water, a little murky but still cleaner than she was right now. Perhaps it couldn’t hurt.

  Glancing back at the woman, who still had her head turned away, Una quickly stripped off her tunic and trousers, and stepped into the basin. The cold water prickled her skin, but she had to admit, it was good to take a bath again.

  The woman soon returned with the kettle in hand, steam rising out of the top. Goosebumps rose on Una’s skin as the hot water joined the cold, creating the perfect blend of warm. Una almost lost her composure and sighed. She had not felt anything so wonderful in so long.

  “Take this,” said the woman, handing her a crust of bread. “Now tell me. What’s a poor girl like you doing out here late at night? Do you have any family?”

  Una shook her head. She could tell the truth for this part. “No, I lost them many years ago.”

  “You poor dear. It’s a miracle you’re still here. Perhaps I can talk to one of the barons in Londinium. They have resources there for…”

  “Thank you, but I’d rather not.” Una cut in, quickly. The last thing she needed was to go back to Londinium. “I’m traveling north to visit a...an uncle. I just learned where he lives.”

  “And where would that be?”

  Una thought quickly. “The...ah, near the Forest of Arden.”

  The woman blinked at her. “Don’t you tell me you’re going to that dreadful place.”

  “No, just in that direction,” Una clarified.

  “That forest is full of monsters and faeries that will eat you as soon as look at you.”

&n
bsp; Una sobered. The old woman was right, and the truth was even worse. But that didn’t stop the fact that the only place she could go was back to her homeland, despite the dangers. It was either that or wander as a fugitive forever. She didn’t care for that choice. She would return to Castle Silene by the midsummer solstice if it meant her death, though she could probably handle herself well enough.

  “Barkeep,” came a call from the door. “I need a top off over here.”

  “Excuse me,” said the woman, before hurrying to help the man.

  That woman was nice. Though none of that mattered to Una. She would gain what she could from this place then leave and never think of it again.

  Una finished up her bath as quickly as she could, before dressing back in her clothes and taking in the room. There wasn’t much here, other than a few crusts of bread.

  Grabbing a nearby sack, she took every piece of food she could find, stuffing it in. Who knew how long it would take to get to Castle Silene, but she would need more food than this if she was going to get there alive.

  Once she had gathered all she could, she tied the bag around her waist and went back into the main room. One of the men at the bar had left, but the other still sat there, and judging by the mix of drunken laughter and expletives, the dice game in the back was gaining intensity.

  Una hid the sack of bread on one side away from the barkeep, though she imagined the woman would not mind. Even so, she still didn’t want to come off as a thief, or it could hinder her plans.

  The woman acknowledged her with a nod as she walked by, but said nothing as she was busy getting the man at the bar another drink.

  “This is the last one, Gaunt,” said the woman as she deposited a glass with some amber brown liquid inside. “Any more and you won’t be able to walk home.”

  “Wha’ hhhome,” said Gaunt in a slurred, gruff tone. “Em not welcome inme ‘ouse nomatter.”

  He was the perfect target.