by R C Gray
Skara turned to face Faine, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you mean?”
Faine let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you’re going to believe me, but I was on my way to becoming a priest before I left home.”
“And what changed your mind.”
“Corruption and greed. Not my greed, though. I know I have a streak of that in me. No, it was the greed of the priests in the order. It was the comforting of the weak and sick with one hand, and the cutting of their coin pouch with the other. It seemed like no matter what I did, it never really made a difference. It was all just about lying and scheming to move up in the ranks. So really, just another part of life. But it was after a heavy night of drinking and thinking that I decided to let it go and forge my own way—to not be another pawn in the games of men and gods.”
“What happened?”
“I had a dream that I came to a fork in the road, one to the left, one to the right. Not sure of which path to choose, I closed my eyes and let my instincts guide me. As I began to walk the shadow-strewn path, the moonlight glimmered through the trees, helping to light my way in the darkness. I could hear strange whispers blowing in the wind, almost like they were inside my head, but too faint to really make out any words.
“As I came to a small clearing, I saw a large stone covered in carvings and inscriptions. At the base of the stone was a massive wolf that just sat there and watched me, like it was curious why I was there, or that it knew I was coming. So I stepped into the clearing, walked up the stone dais, and saw something sitting there, just visible in the moonlight.”
“What was it?”
“It was a dagger. And as I reached my hand towards the hilt, the whispers in the breeze began to get louder and louder until they were screams burrowing into my head. I had no idea how to make it stop, so I reached my hand out and took hold of the dagger, and suddenly, all went silent. I felt something shift and change inside me like something had finally woken up. And I knew then what it meant. It was something that I had known all along and never accepted.”
Skara moved closer to Faine, strands of black hair hanging loosely over his wide eyes. “And what’s that?”
“That I belong on the shadowed path. My place wasn’t in some church kneeling and doing nothing. My place was out in the darkness, in the world, with a dagger in my hand. I realized I could do more of what I think is right by being the wolf that devours rather than the sheep led to the slaughter. Life is what you make it. Sometimes it feels horrible, and sometimes it’s beautiful. You never really know where your place is until you go out and find it. So, I packed a bag, said my goodbyes, and left.” Faine glanced over at Skara as he sat cross-legged and staring. “At least that’s what I got out of it. But who knows, maybe I’m wrong and it was just a dream. Or maybe it was all the ale and ember-bloom I had. Who really knows, right?”
Skara moved slowly back against the wall, pulling his loose hair back and tying it into a ponytail. Maybe Faine was right about getting out and finding your place in the world. Although his life wasn’t bad in Banrielle, there was always the feeling that it wasn’t the way it should be. Killing the brothers had come so easily to him; almost second nature. But what did it mean? Did it mean that his place was on the shadowed path, too? It could be possible that things happened the way they were meant to. He found Faine in the cave, was poisoned and cured, and was finally able to fulfill his promise to his family about killing Gregor. And who knows how many others rest peacefully now that he’s dead. Maybe a dagger really can make a difference.
Skara looked back over at Faine, who had moved back onto the floor, his eyes closed, and his arms pulled close to his chest. “And what about Renna? How does she fit into all this?”
“That’s not really for me to tell you. She’s had some hard times, and we share a lot of the same ideas. We can take care of ourselves, but we also take care of each other. But she wants to run towards adventure—sometimes even if it takes her somewhere she shouldn’t be—and I’ll be right there with her. She might tell you more about it someday. But that’s enough for now. We have an early date with the commander, after all.
Nodding his head, Skara pushed himself into the corner and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander as he drifted into an uneasy sleep, only to be awakened just after dawn by a guard banging his club against the bars of the cell.
“Time to get up, you filthy arda,” the guard said, setting down a chunk of bread and a bowl of broth. “Pull yourselves up and crawl over here and eat. The commander will be in shortly, and you’re to be up and ready. You answer his questions and show some respect—or me and the boys’ll take you out in the yard and teach you some manners.” The guard laughed as he banged his club against the bars and walked back up the corridor out of sight.
Skara rubbed his eyes and looked over at Faine. “What does arda mean?”
Brushing the dust of his clothing, Faine walked over to the loaf of bread and tore it in half, tossing a hefty piece to Skara. “An arda is a bug that lives over in the desert. They push around big balls of shit. I think they eat it or build with it or something. I don’t really know.”
Skara shrugged his shoulders and took a bite out of the bread, pulling hard as he tore off a small piece and began to chew. “This bread is tough.”
“Yeah, it’s hard. Probably leftovers from the inns and bakeries. Or made somewhere a week ago. I guess that’s why they gave us the broth,” Faine said, looking down at the bowl of brown liquid. Thin white specks floated on the surface, and he could see bits of something thick and dark sitting on the bottom. Lifting the bowl to his nose, he briefly smelled the broth before making a gagging sound and setting it back on the floor. “But it’s rancid, so I’d stay away from it.”
Skara took another bite of his bread and went to stand next to Faine, resting his arms on the bars. “What do you think they’re going to do with us?”
Looking down the corridor, Faine could hear heavy boots slapping against the stone floor, heading in their direction. “I’m not sure, but I think we’re about to find out. Get your arms out of the bars and move back. We don’t want to be near their clubs.”
Pulling his arms out of the bars, Skara stepped back towards the middle of the room, still clutching his bread. Turning his head towards the sound of the footsteps, he watched as a tall man with heavy brown brigandine armor strolled down the hall. His thick arms were covered by a dark green gambeson, and he held a slightly rusted helmet under his arms. As he moved closer to the cell, Skara could see that his hands were worn and callused, and he seemed more than capable of wielding the long sword that hung from the belt at his hip.
The large man handed his helmet to one of the guards and stepped towards the bars. “I’m gonna make myself clear here. The two of you are murderers and deserve to be locked up in this cell. If I had my way, you’d be hanging from a rope right about now in full view of the town. But my orders say to hold you until someone comes for you, so you’ll be spared the noose for now. But orders or no, you cause any trouble, and you won’t be boarding that boat alive, you get me?”
Stepping forward, Faine rubbed his hands over his face and eyed the man. “I understand why we’re here, but what orders do you have to keep us here? Who’s coming for us?”
The commander shook his head and laughed. “You people are all the same. You get taken in, and you forget about all the shit that you’ve pulled. Banrielle, that ring any bells in that soft head of yours?”
Skara clenched his fist, crushing his loaf of bread as he inched closer to the bars. “For what they did, they got what they deserved.”
Seeing the two guards reach for their clubs, Faine reached out and put his hand on Skara’s shoulder before he could move any closer.
The commander leaned forward and looked down, locking his eyes with Skara’s. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth. “You got some balls sayin’ that. You think you can attack the
priests and soldiers of the temple and just run away, not giving a damn about anyone but yourselves? You Fallen are all alike. You think you can kill whoever you want and send the world back into chaos, but I won’t have it.”
Skara scowled as he pulled against Faine’s hand, trying to move closer to the bars. “I’m not Fallen.”
“Unbroken, maybe. But I know an enemy of the Reverent when I see one.”
“So, what’s going to happen to us, then?” Faine said, keeping his hand on Skara’s shoulder.
“Right now, you’re going to stay in this cell and keep your mouths shut until the ship comes to take you back to Ethilios.”
“What do you mean back to Ethilios? We’ve never been there before,” Faine said, glancing down at Skara, a confused look on his face.
“Maybe, but you killed the brothers of the temple in Banrielle, and they were under orders,” the commander said, scowling at the pair. “And you murdered them for it.”
“Orders from where?” Skara said, pulling his shoulder out of Faine’s grip.
The commander smiled as he took back his helmet and started walking back down the corridor. “For your crimes against Mivara and the brothers, you’re on your way to Bright Harbor to be tried by the king.
The Will and the Word
Renna paced the room, tapping the back of her thumb to one of her tusks as Braig sat at a nearby table with Aenwyn, rolling a coin between his fingers. After leaving the alley near the inn, the group took the cart to a small warehouse near the docks, unhitched the horse and pushed the wagon through two tall doors into an open section inside the building. Numerous crates were stacked around the room, making a tight maze that led to a back stairwell leading to a room with several beds, nightstands, and two round tables.
A woodstove sat in the back corner with a dying fire burning inside the blackened iron frame, gently warming the room against the cool breeze coming from the ocean. The sun was just beginning to rise, and sharp rays of orange cut through the smudged glass window, casting slivers of light onto the tops of the faded brown tables. Pouring four cups of hot tea, Ferhani set them on the table and sat down in the chair next to Braig. Taking a sip, she gestured to an open seat at the table and slid a plain white cup towards Renna.
Walking quickly to the table, Renna sat down, slid the cup to the side, and looked over at Ferhani. “We’ve wasted enough time getting somewhere safe to talk, so let’s talk. What’s your plan to get Faine and Skara out of Stonekeep?”
Ferhani ran her hands through her hair and took another drink of her tea. “I have a plan that could work, but it won’t be easy. And it’s an arrangement that helps us both. You need something from me, and I want something from you in return.”
“Anything you want,” Renna said, leaning forward. “We can’t leave them there. We don’t even know what they’re planning to do with them.”
“Renna,” Braig said, louder than he had intended. “Hear her out before you agree to anything. The price might be higher than you think.”
“Smart and handsome,” Ferhani said, winking at Braig. “But he’s right. Getting in and out of Stonekeep takes some connections and effort on everyone’s part. But I have to ask,” Ferhani said, looking over at Aenwyn, “what’s your stake in all this? You didn’t come here with them, so why help?”
Aenwyn looked over at Renna and shrugged, a slight smile on her face. “I don’t have anything better to do. Besides, I know what it’s like to be somewhere you don’t want to be. And Renna here needs some help. Why would I leave now?”
“Because you don’t know them, and they don’t know you,” Ferhani said, looking over at Braig and Renna. “Are you sure you trust her enough to let her help when you and your friend’s lives are at stake?”
Renna glanced at Ferhani before looking back over to Aenwyn. “She already helped me once tonight. She could have done nothing like everyone else, but she put herself at risk. And if she’s willing to help me again, I trust her. And from what I’ve seen her do, I think we have a better chance with her than without.”
Shaking her head, Ferhani looked over at Braig. “What about you?”
Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Braig cleared his throat and took a drink of his tea. “I don’t know her, so I can’t rightly trust her. For all I know, she’s got something to do with what happened to Faine and Skara, or to me in that alley. But I didn’t see her there, and she helped Renna. And if Renna’s putting her trust in her, I suppose I’ll do the same...until I see something that makes me think otherwise.”
Aenwyn turned her head, her eyes locking with Braig’s. “I know you don’t trust me, and I get it. I’m not sure I can trust you either. But this isn’t my first time being in a rough situation, and I think you have a better chance of getting your friends out with me at your side. I know a thing or two that can speed things up a bit. And I give you my word that I’m here to help you. You can take that to heart. If I give it, it won’t be broken. So,” she said, turning back towards Ferhani, “tell us what we need to know.”
“Very well.” Ferhani took another drink and pushed her cup to the side, motioning at the nightstand behind Braig. “Open that top drawer and get me a piece of paper and a sliver of charcoal.”
“So why are they there? Aside from the brawl, that is? You said a ship was coming for them,” Braig said as he rummaged through the drawer.
“A ship will be here in a few days to take them to Ethilios. The Brothers of the Flame that you dealt with in Banrielle were working for someone there. The temple in Bright Harbor wants to see them made into an example. From what I hear, they’re on their way to see the king. And no good can come from that.”
Renna rubbed her temples and stared down at a nick in the table. “Then we can’t let that happen. I know what they do to make an example. How do we get in?”
Setting the paper on the table, Ferhani grabbed the charcoal, sharpened it with her dagger, and began drawing on the blank sheet. “Here’s Stonekeep. From what I know, your friends are being kept in the holding cell here, in the back corner. There are five towers, the central tower being the largest with the main gate and beds on the second level for guards. This is also where the only gate is to get inside. Around the outer wall on each corner is four smaller towers that usually only have a few archers. But there are also guards that walk the upper walls around the perimeter.”
“There’s no other way in aside from the main gate?” Renna said as she peered over the drawing.
“No. Unless you try to scale the walls, anyway. But you’d get shot down before you made it halfway. There are bars on the holding cell window, although I don’t think there’s any way to pull them off. We’d need a team of horses to even have a chance, but we’d never get close enough to even try.”
Braig tapped his finger on the back corner of the drawing, pulling lightly on his beard. “And what about after we get through the gate?”
“The inside branches off from the main corridor. There are three cell blocks on the left, and two on the right, with the registry desk near the holding cell in the back. There’s usually only one guard there at any time.”
“And this empty back corner?” Braig said, pointing.
“That’s the yard. There is a door that opens right in front of the holding cell, but there’s nowhere to hide there, and you’d be spotted even if you somehow got in.”
“So, you’re saying the best way is through the front door?” Renna said, looking up at Ferhani.
“I’m saying that’s the only way. I have a man on the inside that can let us in the front gate and get us a copy of the cell key. But getting past the guards is another story. And if we go in the middle of the night, we’ll come across fewer guards. But even if we get inside, we still can’t be seen. If one guard sounds the bell, the next guard will sound theirs until everyone’s awake and flooding the cell blocks. We’d have no way out if we got trapped. So, we’ll need a distraction.”
Braig scratched his nose and shook his head.
“What kind of distraction?”
“The flaming kind. We’re going to attack the prison from the side with firebombs. We’ll draw their attention.”
“But doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose? I thought we didn’t want to sound the alarm?” Renna said, leaning back in her chair. “It won’t work.”
“But it could,” Ferhani said, scribbling on the piece of paper. “We go into the woods, draw their attention to one side, and they sound the alarm. The guards will be rushing to the wall and falling into each other. It’ll be chaos. You go in the front gate, take out the guard, and unlock the cell.”
“And are we supposed to fight our way out if someone sees us and shuts us in?” Braig said, his voice gruff.
Ferhani set down her charcoal and looked over at Braig. “That’s right. There’ll be two wagons outside waiting for you. Both leave at the same time in different directions. They’ll take you to an alley where you jump out, run between the buildings and climb into a third wagon and head to the ship, while the other leads the guards away. It’ll set sail the next morning to avoid suspicion. I didn’t say there wouldn’t be any risk. Death is a real possibility. You just have to ask yourself if saving your friends is worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth the risk,” Renna said, gritting her teeth. “But I don’t want any of us to die trying. There has to be another way. We have no idea who’s coming for them and why, or if this will even work.”
Aenwyn cleared her throat and knocked on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. “I have an idea that could work. It’s still risky, but we won’t have to worry about getting trapped in the prison. Getting shot with arrows from the wall, possibly. But not getting trapped.”
“Oh,” Ferhani said, tilting her head to the side. “What do you have in mind?”
Reaching for the charcoal, Aenwyn began to draw on the paper. “We go in the middle of the night, and you still cause a distraction. You hit the wall here,” she said, drawing a large X on the side wall away from the holding cell. “But you wait for the signal. We want to sneak in, get into position, and then fire as I get them out. We’ll keep them off guard. Then, we board two separate wagons waiting on the streets on both sides of walls: one on the front for you, Braig and your crew, and one on the side streets near the dock district for me, Renna, Faine, and Skara. Then we both head to the rendezvous point, the carriages split again, and we take a single wagon to the ship while the other two lead them away.”