Late autumn was setting in with a vengeance, bringing a seemingly constant wind from the west. The wind was usually chilly, sometimes wet. It slowed the arrival of merchandise coming up river as freight on sailing ships, and so the choices the merchants had to offer at the market square became predominantly local goods instead of exotic fruits or trinkets from far-away places. But for Alec’s liniment recipe it didn’t matter, as he and Bethany found all the herbs and goods they needed to boil a batch.
“Rahm knows you’re not my real brother of course,” Bethany told him as they sat in a mostly empty café on the square, drinking hot chocolate. “He hasn’t come right out and said it, but he says we don’t talk about one another, or know anything about each other the way a brother and a sister should, and then there’s the fact we don’t look more like brother and sister at all.”
“Have you admitted the truth to him?” Alec asked as he watched her nervously sip at her mug.
“No. I’ve asked him not to ask me questions,” Bethany told him. “He really admires you. He didn’t think it was a good idea to let all those other boys practice with us, but now he thinks you’re going to make them better people.
“I tell him you’re just going to make them better criminals,” she added with a sly smile.
“Since you and I took all the earl’s gold from Krimshelm, I don’t think we can say anything about other members of the criminal class,” Alec pointed out, but smiled as he did so.
Within a month, the story of the stolen wagonload of gold had reached all the way to Vincennes, and among the class of boys who had become Alec’s acolytes, the story was discussed with animated approval, unaware that they were praising their own fencing teacher whose heart carried misgivings about the way circumstances had forced him to flee with enough riches to live multiple lives in luxury. Alec was nervous about the rumors in the street that told of a wagon that had gone to Toulouse, then presumably to Flora, but after that the purported trail of the stolen wealth vanished.
“Will they be able to find us?” Bethany asked Alec one day. “People here know about the gold that disappeared from Vincennes.” The two of them were sitting by the fire in their home, while Rahm was practicing sword work with Delphi at the gymnasium.
“I hope they won’t find us. This city is huge; it’s an easy place to disappear,” Alec told her reassuringly. “But we may need to think about leaving soon to start living someplace else. Maybe we could go someplace warm,” he suggested. The first significant snowfall of winter had arrived two days before, and his feet still felt wet from walking through slush and ice on every journey out-of-doors.
“I want to go to Black Crag, the place Rahm told us where women can join the army,” Bethany answered. “It would make my dad proud to know that his own daughter was in the army. He used to tell me that his own father was in the army before him, and I think it made him a little sad that he didn’t have a son to join the army after him.”
“If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. You’re not ready for the army yet, but you’re getting close,” Alec said. “Your dad would be proud of you. I can tell you’re going to be good, the way your feet move so gracefully,” Alec told her gently, seeing the way her eyes shone with moisture. “You’ll be good enough to be part of the Goldenfields Guard.”
“Who’s that?” Bethany asked.
“That’s where I learned to fight,” Alec answered without thinking, remembering a dream from the night before, when he’d fought to free a Duke who was trapped in a palace. He knew that virtually all of his dreams now were old memories that were leaking back into his awareness, rising from whatever deep well of subconsciousness they resided in.
“Really? You know that? Are they all as good as you? Delphi told me you may be the best swordsman in the city,” his adopted sister replied. “I want to be a good fighter for both my dad and my brother,” she made his heart swell by adding.
“Thank you Beth,” Alec told her, and he reached out to tousle her hair, before she snuggled back down into her blankets.
A few days later the rumors about the stolen gold gave way to new rumors about the eminent likelihood of a coup d’état. The noble houses from other cities were unhappy about having a princess on the throne instead of a king, they were ambitious to claim the crown for themselves, but claimed publicly that they were unhappy with the princess’s taxes and new rules. With a new set of counselors now in the palace persuading the young girl who had become ruler to pursue goals that were contrary to the wishes of the various treacherous nobles, the city was aflutter with tales of imminent battles in the streets.
Yet no battles took place, other than inside the improving gymnasium, where the boys in the neighborhood were becoming proficient with blades. When not training, Alec explored the building and discovered a hidden balcony in the building. The room was richly decorated, with stained glass windows, dark wood trim, and an altar with a cross. It was his own religion he understood, not the local religion of spirits and sacred spots that caused shrines and temples to spring up seemingly at random around the city. He sat in the chapel and thought about what he remembered of his own faith, a moving recollection that brought tears to his cheeks. The murals illustrated stories that he recollected as he studied them, and he sat for over an hour looking at the portrayal of a man pulling down a temple by wrenching the columns he was chained to.
The next week, Alec went to the bank to make his monthly withdrawal of cash. He made one visit each month to take money from one of their accounts, trying to live as simple and unobtrusive a life as possible. Only the wish to supplement Delphi’s gymnasium caused him to draw large sums from the vaults, though recently business had begun to send a regular flow of cash into the old man’s ledger as the facility became cleaner, the neighborhood grew safer, and the reputation of the training rose.
Alec sat at a banker’s desk and gave his account information, now able to read and write rudimentary snippets of the forms required for withdrawals. “I’ll be right back,” his banker said after looking in Alec’s file to confirm the fund amount, and he stepped into the vault.
When the banker sat back down with a small leather bag of coins, Alec felt the hair rise on the back of his neck and goose pimples sprang up on his arms. Something was wrong, he could sense it in the banker, and he swung his head, scanning the interior of the bank for signs of danger. Three men in constabulary uniforms were approaching from the front door, while three men with unfamiliar uniforms were guarding the side doors now.
“These men would like to talk to you about your account,” the banker said as the constables arrived. He stood up and edged away from his desk, as Alec looked at him with a glare.
“Your name is Alec? Have you ever been in Krimshelm?” the lead officer asked as he sat in a chair facing Alec.
“My name is Alec, and I don’t know much about Krimshelm,” he answered, his heart starting to beat rapidly. He felt a sudden lift, and the world around him seemed to slow its motions. The incredible powers he possessed had suddenly transformed him, and he was aware of what he could do to escape the trap he was in. His left leg pushed the banker’s desk hard, causing it to slide several feet and knock the retreating banker down, while his right foot hooked the leg of the constable’s chair and raised it to tip the man backwards into his two companions. Alec rose from his seat and sprinted towards the unguarded front door.
He heard the twang of a bowstring behind him, and heard the fletchings of an arrow whisper in the air as the shaft headed towards him. There was a woman just entering the bank, and Alec realized that the arrow was likely to hit her as he darted outside. Reaching up, he grabbed the shaft of the missile as it passed his shoulder and flung it down to the ground. He just saw the mobile change in the woman’s face as she witnessed the instrument of her own death approach and disappear. With that he was out the door and running hard through the streets. He ran away from his own home, then stepped inside a building and stormed up the stairs to find a door that provid
ed access to the roof.
Peering over the parapet, he saw several men in the uniforms of the Conglomerate’s private security forces. Many men. Very many men. It looked like a whole regiment coming down the street, entering many buildings, and pulling men and a few women out. Alec ran across the roof of the building and looked at the street scene below that side of the building; there too a body of security forces were taking more captives as well. As he watched, Alec saw one man struggle to free himself, and Alec saw with horror that a soldier cavalierly executed the man, and left the body in the street. A woman screamed, and ran to kneel over the motionless body.
Alec ran retraced his steps across the roof, slipping on a patch of ice, then bolted down the stairs, along a dim hallway, and out a back door into an alley that opened upon the tragic death he had seen. With his sword in his hand, Alec sloshed through dirty snow to the street, and reached the woman, who had attracted the attention of the soldiers, and was being manhandled back towards her doorway.
The man on the street twitched feebly, Alec saw, still alive despite the vicious stab he had received. “Leave her alone!” Alec screamed at the soldiers as he reached the doomed man’s body. He was enraged by destruction he saw being casually strewn in the city.
“You’ve just asked for more trouble than you know,” a sergeant shouted back. Alec rose from his quick examination of the dying man, and faced the three soldiers who approached him. Alec jumped at the center soldier, swinging his sword so viciously he severed the man’s wrist, then swung towards his right to slash the neck of the soldier on that side, before he kicked high in the air to send the third soldier flying backwards, unconscious from the blow to his temple.
The sergeant who had ordered the attack on Alec stared in astonishment at his men’s rapid defeat. The sergeant wore a bandolier of knives, and Alec suddenly felt a compulsive needs to feel that leather strap across his own chest, the knives able to provide multiple weapons he could use to protect himself at a greater distance. He ran at the sergeant, who hastily brought his own sword up in defense a second before Alec knocked it out of his hand, then struck him in the face with the hilt of his sword. Alec yanked the bandolier away from the unconscious sergeant.
Two soldiers who were holding the grief-stricken woman were turning to see what was occurring across the street. Alec ran at them and kicked one soldier while he swung his sword at the other one, opening a gash in his chest. The freed woman looked at Alec in astonishment, tears streaks glistening on her cheeks. “Are you going to kill me too?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“I’m here to save you and your husband,” Alec gave a brief explanation before he grabbed her hand and pulled her after him, back to the body lying in a puddle of blood in the street. Soldiers were beginning to realize the threat they faced in the area, and were converging on Alec from both directions. Alec bent and slung the man’s body over his shoulder as he spoke urgently to the woman. “Pick a doorway we can escape from, and lead us away from here.”
The woman looked at him hesitantly. “Our building has an old collier tunnel in the basement. Is that what you want?”
“Yes. Exactly. Get going,” Alec urged. He stood and pulled a knife from his new bandolier, spotted an officer, and threw the blade at him, then started lumbering across the lanes of the road, up over the curb, and into a doorway.
The hallway led straight back, deep into the building, and Alec followed the woman far inside until he believed he needed to dissuade any pursuit. “Stop here,” Alec called. He gently laid his load out on the floor, pulled out several knives, and watched a file of men come charging down the hallway towards them. After counting to three, Alec began flinging knives, hitting the leading man first, then his followers, piling five bodies in the hall, and causing the rest of the soldiers to turn and flee.
Satisfied that they had a safe margin of time before further pursuit, Alec looked down at the man he had carried. The man remained unconscious, and his breathing was loud, a death rattle starting to echo in the hallway. The woman knelt over him, holding his hand, telling him she loved him.
Not understanding why, Alec knew that he could heal the man. He placed his hands over the stomach wound, and suddenly felt a warning. He had to cease using his battling power first, or he would suffer terrible consequences. Not knowing what he was doing, Alec took a deep breath and relaxed, then closed his eyes and composed himself.
He imagined healing. Flesh wounds were repaired, illness was banished, infection was wiped away. He concentrated, and imagined he felt a warmth in his hands. He opened his eyes and lifted his fingers. The ragged gash was gone from the man’s torso, leaving only a vivid red scar.
“What did you do?” The woman looked up from the man to Alec’s face, searching it closely. “What have you done? Is he alive? How did you do that? What are you?”
Questions rolled rapidly from her, and Alec held up a hand, feeling a sudden wave of weariness. “Lead us to this tunnel you spoke of. Are there candles?” He lifted the still unconscious man back over his shoulder, and groaned as he stood. Without his miraculous powers the burden of the man felt much heavier. Alec stooped and lowered the man back to the ground.
“What is it?” the woman asked, seeing him stop.
“You go get candles; I’m going to go collect my knives from those soldiers. I might need them later.” He crouched and ran up to the bodies, pulling knives from each of them and wiping the blades on the victims’ clothes before he resheathed them. When he returned from the pile of bodies he found the woman already there, holding a handful of candles and a flint.
“My name is Alec. What’s your name?” he asked her. She had wrapped a black cape around herself, and draped a dark blanket over her husband’s unconscious form.
“My name is Elena, and my husband is Kage,” the woman answered. “Thank you for saving us. Are you a friend of the princess – did she send you? I didn’t know she had any foreigners in her allegiance,” she commented on his accent.
“No, I’ve never met the princess. The constables were after me because they thought I stole some money,” Alec answered, as he stooped and lifted the injured man again. “You lead the way Elena. We need to get out of sight before the soldiers grow courageous enough to come after us again.”
“Follow me,” she acceded to his suggestion and went through a doorway. They passed through the rooms of an apartment to a small, dingy courtyard, where she opened a doorway and sank downward as she stepped down rickety wooden stairs that led to the basement.
“Just a second,” she halted as she struck a spark with her knife and flint to light one of her candles, then continued to walk forward through the darkness until she found a trapdoor that she struggled with before she managed to pull the heavy wooden cover open. Broad steps led deep into an even darker subterranean tunnel, their expected escape route.
Waves of damp heat rose from the floor opening.
“What’s down there?” Alec asked.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t hot like this when we looked at it a couple of years ago,” Elena answered, stopped halfway down, peering at the darkness. Subtle rumbling noises could be heard.
“Is there another way we could go?” Alec asked, concerned by the unknown conditions they were considering entering. Just then there was a distant sound in the hallway above, evidence that some of the soldiers had found the courage to re-enter the building. “I guess there’s no time,” he answered his own question. “Let’s go.” He passed Elena on the steps as he felt his way down into the steamy darkness.
Alec heard a loud thud behind him as Elena let the trap door slam shut above them.
“Let’s stop so I can put Kage down to rest,” Alec suggested, his shoulder aching under the load.
“Why does he need to rest?” Elena asked, standing and watching with her candle held high to illuminate the scene.
“I’m the one who needs the rest,” Alec explained. He slumped gracelessly to the ground next to Kage’s inert body, and looke
d up at Elena. In the dim candle light she looked like a woman of great beauty, her high cheekbones appearing sharp and prominent among the wavering shadows. Her mouth was generously large, and it gave a wistful smile as she looked down on him. Beads of perspiration were beginning to run down her forehead already in the heat, and Alec felt his shirt sticking to his back.
“Thank you for saving us,” she said again. “Where should we go now, when we get out of here?”
“I do not know, my lady, I do not know,” Alec answered. “I’m not a native of the land, as you know. I need to find my sister and we shall plan to leave the city, if the police are after me,” he tried to figure out what to do. “We talked about going to Black Crag someday, so this may be that someday.”
“Black Crag in the winter?” she looked at him sharply. “That’s not a trip I’d want to take, although the chill air does almost sound appealing in this heat.”
“Will he awaken soon?” she asked, motioning towards her husband. “He’ll figure out a plan for us, and perhaps for you too. There’s certainly something better than Black Crag in the winter! Perhaps we’ll go to the southern cities along the shore. My cousin travelled to Thermore once.”
Alec was feeling better, though still worn out from his use of the special powers he possessed, and wanted to keep moving. He stood up. “Do you know how much longer we’ll be in this tunnel?” He stooped to lift Kage over his left shoulder this time.
“I don’t know. I’ve never traveled this far before. We looked at the tunnel shortly after we bought the apartment a few years ago, but that’s all I know,” Elena answered. “Shall we go?” she began to walk forward, and Alec stood motionless for a moment admiring the dark outline of her lithe figure as she moved, then he began walking forward too.
There were large pipes attached to the ceiling on either side of the passageway, and the pipes were the source of the heat, the noise, and an occasional puddle of leaking water. Elena had no idea of what the pipes were for.
Rescuing the Captive: The Ingenairii Series Page 6
