Ancients (Heroes by Necessity Book 1)

by Riley Keene

  Elise cursed Ydia’s name. She felt herself deflating, slumping in her seat. “But my dream,” she said, “I thought we were going to—”

  “He can’t get it,” Athala said with a grin. “Or, rather, he doesn’t know how to. He knew something was wrong with the spell, and I told him about the missing runes, but he doesn’t know how it all works. The inscribed stone and the door—he hasn’t figured those out.” She scooped up the rest of the pasta and gulped it down, grimacing at the taste. “He’s even got the rubbings. If he had my research notes and spell books, he had to look right at the scroll tube with the rubbings in them. He has everything he needs and he doesn’t even know it.” She wheezed a weak laugh.

  “So you didn’t tell him anything?” Ermolt leaned back a little, obviously impressed. “No small feat, with his methods.”

  “What methods?” When Athala didn’t answer but instead winced and rubbed her arms, Elise grew more concerned. “I told you to stay safe! No spell is more important than you are.” Elise hesitated, picking at the sleeve of her tunic. She wanted to tell Athala she was worth more than even the dragon, but her words stuck in her throat. The wizard didn’t notice, which made Elise feel even worse.

  “Well, I mean, I did have to tell him something, eventually. Enough to get him to give me a healing potion to ease the pain. Watered-down knockoff swill, but it still did the job.” Athala shrugged as she picked up the orange, peeling it slowly. The scent of fresh citrus was like a burst of sunshine, causing Athala to smile subconsciously. “But what I told him was garbage. He’ll set off the same alarm we did.” She eased a segment of orange away from the peel. “But he won’t know that until he gets all the way down there and tries.” She popped the bit of fruit into her mouth.

  “And what then?” Elise growled. In contrast to her harsh tone, she scooted up next to Athala and started to run her fingers through the wizard’s hair, combing out the matting and picking out what flecks of dried vomit were still stuck there. “Putting him through that alarm isn’t going to satisfy him. He’s going to come back and he’s going to be angry.”

  “Angry seems like his everyday attitude,” Ermolt said. “I find it hard to believe that anything could put him in a fouler mood than he already was when I saw him.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Athala said before she ate another segment of orange. She tried to sound calm, but there was still a hint of sarcastic amusement in her voice. Athala leaned into Elise’s attentions, and Elise stopped trying to purposefully comb the wizard’s hair but instead just let her fingers run through the delicate curls.

  “Just the same, Elise is right.” Ermolt leaned back, looking around at the walls that enclosed them. “He will be back, and even if you think you can give him false information forever, stalling just gives him more time to figure it out on his own.”

  A hush fell over the three of them and Elise found herself thinking of all they’d learned of this place over the past day. “Detlev said this morning that if someone wants something from us,” Elise said, arranging Athala’s hair in a way that was more natural, “then they just won’t charge or sentence us. They’ll hold us forever if they have to.”

  “The only way for them to hold us without charging or sentencing us is if we’re at least partially off the books.” Athala finished off the last bit of her orange. “The clerks and administrators might be in on whatever they’re doing, but they can’t bribe the entire facility. And even if they could, they can’t bribe all the outside authorities.”

  “So we’re likely not on the books,” Elise said. A sour taste sat on her tongue and she wished Athala hadn’t eaten the rest of the orange. A little sweetness right now would help settle her.

  “That means we need to get out of here by whatever means necessary.” Ermolt looked back at the door Athala had just returned through. “Because if we’re not on the books, and thus not officially held, there won’t be enough records to pursue us if we escape.”

  “Ingmar has a lot of information on us,” Athala corrected. “A lot more than you might think. There might be records to pursue us. But all it would take is for one honest guard to take a look to see that they aren’t legitimate. And if a magistrate sees it, they might start an investigation that would dismantle the entire structure here.”

  “Well, if we’re going to escape, this isn’t the worst place to escape from. The security isn’t really high, and the guards aren’t heavily armed. If we can get just a little bit of equipment, and get these rings off Athala, we have a fighting chance if we aren’t taking on the entire facility.”

  “Even without my help,” Athala said, “we’d have a decent chance with a big enough distraction.”

  Ermolt leaned back in his seat, picking at one of his bandages. “So if we can sneak into the barracks or the armory or something, we can grab some gear. Then we start a riot and fight our way out in the chaos.”

  “No riot,” Elise said, remembering what Detlev had told them earlier that morning.

  Ermolt grew silent and tugged at the collar of his prisoner uniform. Elise wondered if he was uncomfortable with the heat of the facility or just with the high-necked shirt. Or perhaps it had something to do with this Deputy Warden, which Elise suspected was just a fancy title for someone who liked to hurt people. A lot.

  The group sat in silence for a moment, watching the other prisoners move around the room. There was a kind of elegance to it, a balance of dominance and subversion, of anger and fear. Elise wasn’t surprised to see that the guards paid little attention to the details of what was going on. No one walked the aisles of the room to check that prisoners weren’t tucking away the wooden eating utensils, and no one was listening in on conversations that, like their own, could be about chaos and escape. Instead, the guards in the room stood formation against the wall, ready to rush forward to break up any fights, but out of touch of the true goings on.

  It was obvious now that Auernheim was little more than a glorified holding cell. Aside from the potential corruption of this Deputy Warden, the rest of the prison wasn’t evil, just lax. They expected prisoners to be held here for a fortnight or two at most, and then churned to either a stronger prison, like Valanar in Lublis, or to one of the work camps to pay off their debts to society. If the situation were turned, Elise would likely find herself just as remiss to care about the temporary prisoners that would be under her care.

  As long as they caused no trouble during their short stay, that is.

  Ermolt was the first to speak up again, and when he did his voice was low, causing Elise and Athala to lean in to hear him over the buzz of the room. “When they held me overnight, I was left unguarded for about an hour before my release. They must be busy elsewhere, especially at the start of breakfast. Making sure no one tries to slip out with the garbage or whatever. That might be the time to sneak away.”

  “Sneak away where, exactly?” Elise said with a smirk. “We don’t know where the armory is. We also don’t know where the guards actually went. That might be when the guard changes and they’ll all be in the armory you’re trying to find.”

  He could only shrug in response. “The thing is, the sooner we start looking, the sooner we find answers. It’s not like they’re going to get rid of us. As long as Athala doesn’t tell him what he wants to know, they can’t do anything to us. We have all the time we need to figure out how to make our escape, since we have no other way to leave.”

  “I’d rather we do it right, though. The more incorrect attempts we make, the longer we’re here. And the longer he has to try make Athala tell him what he wants.”

  “We’ll start in the morning,” Athala said, running her own fingers through her hair. She gathered it up in a small ponytail that she tied off low along her shoulder. The thick black curls puffed out around her neck. “We can’t expect to find what we need to know without looking for it. If we can find Detlev at breakfast tomorrow, we can ask him for any information he can give us before we go for it.”

  “Al
right. It’ll be nice for everyone to get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Elise said before grinning playfully to Ermolt. “As long as we can keep our nose out of business that doesn’t concern us.”

  Surprisingly, Ermolt returned the grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ermolt was surprised that the rest of their night was mostly uneventful. After supper the prisoners were allowed a bell of free time in the yard, but Elise, Ermolt, and Athala declined.

  Politely, of course.

  After the day they’d collectively had, the idea of having to posture around another attempt of undesired dominance was nauseating. When Elise asked the guards if they could instead get some early rest—they had such a long day of questioning with the Deputy Warden and were so very tired—Ermolt was relieved. He hadn’t realized how nervous the idea of yard time made him until it was upon them.

  The three of them were escorted to their cell and locked in, which was just fine by them. Instead of sleeping early though, they used the time to unwind. Although, their ideas of unwinding varied greatly.

  Athala sat on the floor and began obsessively drawing the missing runes from the spell over and over with her finger. Ermolt wasn’t sure if the fixation was healthy, but after what he assumed she’d been through he didn’t blame her.

  Elise immediately dropped into meditation and prayer, although from what Ermolt could tell, it didn’t provide her with the calm she was seeking. In fact, Ermolt was sure that the action almost always frustrated her more than helped. Elise tried so hard to be a devout Conscript, but Ermolt never saw it work out in her favor.

  After watching his friends for a moment, Ermolt decided to work through a few shadow sparring techniques. It was slow going at first, as most of his bruised and battered muscles were impossibly stiff. He pushed through anyway, enjoying the burning sensation of the aching pain as he warmed his sore muscles up.

  While he practiced the motions and stances he knew by heart, Ermolt let his mind wander.

  There was very little Ermolt wanted to do more than track down Ingmar and create a fine paste out of his face. Athala was his charge, sure, but she was also his friend. And when he saw her stumbling around in the mess hall, something deep within broke. Logically, he knew violence against the man would solve nothing, especially while they were still imprisoned here. But doing nothing in retaliation was a bitter drink to swallow.

  Ermolt winced suddenly as he drug a breath through clenched teeth. While his thoughts had wandered to Ingmar and retribution for Athala, he had pushed himself too far too fast. The cramp in his shoulder bit deep, but Ermolt deserved it. He needed to keep himself focused.

  When the cramp subsided, Ermolt returned to the practiced motions and focused on his movements instead of his anger. He moved fluidly from one stance to the next, drawing his arms and legs into position slowly to allow the muscles time to adjust. By the close of the bell the motions were just as effortless as they would have been before Ingmar came anywhere near him.

  As the sounds of the guards ushering the remaining prisoners inside reached Ermolt’s ears, he bowed at the waist to no one in particular and sat down on the edge of his cot. The guards began what Ermolt assumed was the normal lockup procedures he’d missed the night before.

  Ermolt was mildly amused at the guards’ methods of ensuring all the prisoners were secured. The whole process was an elaborate headcount. If someone was missing, there was no way to tell who because they only took a count, not an inventory. He tried not to laugh when he overheard the guard at the end of the hall declaring that all prisoners were accounted for even as he admitted the headcount gave them two more prisoners than they were supposed to have. Torches were removed from the walls and the prison fell into a quiet hush.

  Now that he was able to enjoy it, Ermolt found that their cell was slightly inadequate for a man of his size. When he tried to lie down, his legs hung off the end of his bunk almost at his knees. Even Athala had trouble and they eventually just pulled her mattress off the frame and laid it on the floor, since she kept rolling right off the side of it.

  But as Elise insisted, it was nice for them to spend a few continuous hours together without one of them having been carted away by the guards to be worried over.

  They even felt fortunate the next morning when they got to eat breakfast together as well. No guards appeared to pull any of them for questioning, and no one attempted to bully them. If it weren’t for the fact that they were imprisoned, Ermolt would have said it was a lovely time.

  The day’s breakfast included a greasy yellowish substance the slop line was trying to pass off as chicken eggs and some hash browns that looked like burnt mashed potatoes. Once again there was a fresh red apple. Athala commented how sad it must be to be so pretty and but be stuck on the tray with such ugly slop. Ermolt only laughed in response.

  Detlev sat at the end of their table once more, but he still didn’t make eye contact as they ate. After he sat down, a pair of prisoners approached but before they could speak to Detlev, Ermolt straightened up and stared at them. They left immediately, prompting Detlev to give a slight nod of thanks.

  Elise, likely tired of the game, was the one who broke the silence. “So. You were right. They want something from us, so we aren’t getting out of here through official channels.”

  “Our hope is to leave through unofficial ones,” Ermolt said, finishing her thought. “We were hoping you knew a thing or two about how the place was laid out. The organization here is so bad we’re pretty sure we just need a few things from the armory and we could force our way out without too much trouble.”

  “Sorry,” Detlev said, biting into his apple. He shrugged almost sarcastically while he chewed and swallowed. “I don’t know my way around the guard areas of the prison.”

  “You’re not a very good liar,” Elise observed.

  Detlev laughed at that. “But I am.” He sat straight up a little. “Listen, you folks are great and all,” Detlev said, leaning on the table with one elbow. He looked at each of them in turn, likely for the first time. “Thing is though, I’m doing alright right now. I’m going to be sentenced tomorrow. I’m probably going to get hard labor and then I’m gone. Two locks and a wire fence and I’m free.”

  Detlev clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “If I tell you folks anything and you use it, I could be charged with something else. Then I’ll end up not getting sentenced for another week,” he punctuated this with a roll of his eyes, “and I might have to serve time instead of just labor. And that’s if whoever you pissed off doesn’t put my head on the chopping block for helping.” He picked up his tray and stood up. “I appreciate you saving me, and I hope you live long enough to use the rest of those first aid supplies, but you three aren’t worth my life.”

  Ermolt stared the smaller man down. He intended to be intimidating. Everything about his posture was intimidating. But Detlev just flipped him a wink and walked off to another table. The roar of battle filled his head and Ermolt got up to follow, but Elise reached across the table and grabbed his arm.

  “Let him go,” she said, “the supplies were more than enough thanks, and if he’s not going to turn us in for plotting to escape then that’s more than we could have expected from anyone in here.”

  Ermolt settled back into his seat with a grumble. “He could have at least told us something. We’re working blind here.”

  “Well, then let’s try and start some kind of plan.” Elise turned to Athala. “What are we working with now?”

  “All we have to go on is basically speculation,” Athala said. “The room I was taken to was definitely in the right place. The barracks and armory should be in the same areas as the interrogation rooms. I can backtrack us there, and then we can search the surrounding area.”

  “Going from room to room like that is going to be risky,” Elise said with a frown. “Open the wrong door and we’ll be face-to-face with the guards.”

  “Then we just act
confused and lost. We’re new, so it’ll be believable,” Ermolt said. “What’s the worst they could do? Rough us up a little? That’s not exactly new.”

  “But then they’ll be watching us.” Elise looked around and Ermolt assumed she was trying to figure out where the guards were stationed around the room. “They’ll be looking out for us to get ‘lost’ again so they can call us out on it. Either as an excuse to beat us, or to try and foil an escape attempt to get in good with their superiors.”

  “Alright, so we can’t all go together.” Athala picked at her cuticles. “If we go alone, we only need one of us to find the place. If whoever goes first gets caught, they can feed back to the rest of us what they saw and where they checked.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you going by yourself, Athala,” Elise said. “Even if we weren’t concerned for your safety—”

  “And we are,” Ermolt interrupted. He tentatively touched a finger to the fading bruise above his eye. “Very much so.”

  “What I mean is that if you found the armory, you aren’t going to know what to grab and how to hide it on the walk back.” Elise patted Athala’s shoulder. “I’d trust you to walk into a library blindfolded and come out with the books you need, but you wouldn’t know a quarterstaff from an unstrung bow without me there to coach you through it.”

  “That’s fair,” said Athala, shrugging. “So if I can’t go alone and you don’t want us to go together, what is the alternative?”

  “I think you should go with Ermolt,” Elise said, fixating Ermolt with a pointed glance. “And you two go first.” Before he could argue, Elise held up a hand defensively. “You’re terrible with directions. She’ll be able to relay to me where you’ve gone and what I need to check otherwise. When I’m on my own, I’m lighter on my feet than either of you. If you can tell me where to go, I’ll finish the job if you can’t.”