Keegan smiled. “I know what you mean, Sir. If you would like while your clothes dry, I can get you a meal.”
“Sounds good.”
The next room intrigued Cage. A well pump stood to the side of the room where four busy workers spent their time drying clothes and heating water. Cage looked at the simple heating device and how effective it is. It is a three chambered metal contraption standing vertically. Its width is fifteen feet deep and stood ten in height. The bottom is a furnace fed with wood and the mouth is closed. To increase the heat is a billow pump a blacksmith would use. Released smoke goes outside from a simple chimney. Above the furnace sat a watertight drum where water is pumped to be heated. A simple spout to the side has a valve to pour the heated water in waiting buckets. A vat beneath explained they hand washed all clothes and let the dirty water flow down a currently plugged drain. Above the water heater is a dome where clothes are hung. To dry properly they are hung on long bars. They basically dried clothing so quickly by heating them in an oven, but without wood smoke to cling to the fabric. Keegan went to explain how it works and Cage let the man speak, but at a glance he knew exactly how it had been designed. Keegan simply reinforced the original conclusion.
A small ladder lay nearby and one of the workers took the wet clothes, put them on metal wire hangers and slid it in. The room remained warm and toasty and felt great after the hard soaking rain. Cage made an order for freshly made potato and onion soup along with fresh wheat bread. Keegan returned and also added a fresh wedge of cheese at no charge. Cage paid the man and sat at a table to enjoy the meal in the laundry room. He heated from the inside and out. The four workers didn’t seem to mind him as he watched and ate in silence.
Keegan excused himself to return to his duties.
The meal vanished before he realized it and he kept studying the effectively stacked invention. In his thoughts he kept going back to what happened in the castle. It wasn’t so much the action he remembered, it was the prophecy. It nagged at him and yet he believed it. He wouldn’t have if not for what the spirits call him. The Great Prophet seemed to have a great reach and influence, even after dying. He had just begun to learn all that magic could do and if that man had great power as everyone believed it could mean he actually saw what might be. Cage hoped there wasn’t another surprise waiting. The most confusing part of this prophecy was the reference to become ‘Death Incarnate’ and the implications of something so dangerously profound were not lost on him.
Ten minutes of silent and heavy contemplation passed before a woman retrieved the freshly dried clothes and handed them to him. He folded the shirt and pants before thanking them for letting him see their operation.
He returned to the room and lay down.
His mind wouldn’t allow him to rest even though thunderstorms always relaxed him enough to sleep. The thunder rolled constantly and bursts of lightning cracked every few seconds while rain blanketed the entire city.
Worry began to set in Cage’s mind as Brooke had yet to return. It had been several hours and night just settled in. The heavy rains slacked and were intermittent sprinkles as the majority of the weather moved on. Brooke would have at least checked in and no storm frightened her. Something wasn’t right.
In the solitude of the room, Cage lit a candle on the table with a thought. The room brightened as he sat up and concentrated on finding Brooke. The magic flowed and was guided to find her. The picture of magic formed darkly. He looked at the darkness and his eyes adjusted to find Brooke sitting in the back of a stone room. She rested her chin on her knees and her arms wrapped around her long legs. One eye has a bit of swollenness to it. She seemed to glare at him, but he moved the image to the side and her eyes remained stationary. The room had little light and appeared uncomfortable. It quickly donned on Cage what the small room is. He pulled the magic back and said “Fuck!” as he found iron bars.
Brooke sat alone in a prison cell.
“Not good. Not at all. What did you do?” He asked quietly as a guard walked by her cell and didn’t even glance in her direction. As he watched he saw her shivering and knew she was freezing. Cage watched for a few more seconds before making a decision. The image disappeared.
He knew he’d have to break her out. The only way she could have went to prison is if she did something she couldn’t abide by. In the world of magic, Cage suspected the prison would have spells like the castle. It would make sense. Magically breaking her out would likely prove futile. He needed a way to break her out and noticed a slightly protruding iron nail sticking out of a board in the room.
Cage sent his will and the magic plucked the entire nail from the board with a squeak. He studied it for a moment and did it again to hold two. He sent a spell and easily reshaped the nails into sturdy picks. He slid them into a pocket and packed both bags. Before leaving he shouldered the coil of rope. He then left them near the table to be ready to flee if all didn’t go well.
He left the room and building without anyone realizing it. Once outside he made the light string point out Brooke’s direction and headed down the vacant road. He canceled the spell so others didn’t see. After a few minutes he discretely did it again.
It took over an hour to reach the three story prison. Torches lit the area and offered little protection. Off to the side of the building stood a wooden platform with dangling rope to hang people for execution. It looked to be used regularly. To make matters harder, Cage felt slightly more tingling the nearer he approached the prison. Magic, especially of the unknown, didn’t make the jailbreak easier. With all the recent rain, fewer people prowled the area. Cage waited in the shadows for an opportunity. While he waited he sent magic to find exactly where Brooke is being held, all the turns and what is awaiting inside. He made the view smaller and found it made the drain slightly easier to maintain.
Eventually he heard a man whistling a merry tune and had the simple clothes and sword of all the prison guards he had seen. Cage decided to rely on an old trick the old man taught him as a kid. Just as the man passed the alley Cage hid in, he stepped out directly behind the guard.
The jailer didn’t even suspect someone followed not an inch behind him. If he were to suddenly stop Cage would have stepped right into him. Cage had used this trick a few times before. He stepped forward and swung his arms in the exact rhythm of the man. He even matched his breathing. It was the highest following skill there is and required the follower to move exactly as the target so the person didn’t realize anything different. It wasn’t easy timing exactly as the other man’s every move while towering over him, but he didn’t even notice anything amiss. Beau taught Cage this when hunting, to move as the prey does so they think your movements are theirs. They never killed the stalked animal, but it built the foundation for the harder prey, man.
Along the way Cage silently snuffed out the burning torches in such a way that the guard didn’t realize it. It would come in handy later.
At the wooden front door, the man opened it and Cage immediately conjured a strong wind to blow through the opening. As it did he killed the lights of the burning candles and torches. “Close the door, Fool!” another guard shouted, but not before Cage slipped in and ran unnoticed through the completely dark room. He squeezed pass another door to hear the men on the other side fumbling around. “Crazy weather.” One cursed and Cage heard someone striking something sharply to relight the flames. Cage was glad he remembered the layout of that large room and navigated it without any light.
Before he could be caught, Cage moved down the rows of occupied cells. All the guards were in that room from what he heard and that moment of excitement may make one check the prisoners. He hurried down the dark passageway and up one flight of stairs. He then moved down and stopped at the right one.
“Miss me?” He spoke quietly through the iron bars imbedded in the stone.
Brooke’s head snapped up, hearing a familiar, deep voice. In a moment of weakness she asked “Cage Love?” heard his chuckle and ran to the bars
to reach through and touch him. “It is you.”
“Just what have you gotten yourself into?” he smiled.
“You need to get me out of here. I’m to be executed at first light.”
“Keep your voice down…” He whispered and heard the voice of a man below saying faintly “Hold my cards and if a single coin is gone I’ll beat all of you!”
Cage instantly pulled out his picks and stuck them into the iron keyhole. Brooke whispered. “My love, you need a key like the one you taught me to use. It will not open…” he twisted and there came a faint click. He instantly stepped inside, closed the door and locked it. The squeak of the swinging hinges was louder than he intended, but apparently the guard didn’t hear it. He then whispered “Go sit as you did before, hurry.”
Brooke moved back to the middle of the far wall and sat glaring. She then watched as Cage somehow managed to jump up and twist himself right above the cell’s front and his long reach allowed him to lock himself in the shadows. She became amazed at how easy it looked, but would be extremely difficult to stretch out like that without his middle buckling.
She focused as light from a torch began glowing more brightly. The guard saw her and moved on to check other prisoners, not even noticing Cage. The glow faded and Cage dropped down. Before she moved he shook his head and listened. In less than a minute Cage quickly jumped back up into hiding as the man passed again. He dropped down and listened to laughter as the guard entered the main room. He gestured her forward and said “Don’t say another word till we are gone.”
She nodded and watched as he took two little objects, reached through the bars and unlocked the cell. He opened it slowly and squeezed through. She followed. He then locked it back and took her hand. Together they walked through the dark walkway and up to the third floor. At the end of the room waited a ladder bolted to the wall. He put the picks in his mouth and climbed it. Brooke became mesmerized with his work. He picked the lock of a padlock and raised the latch to gain access to the roof. Brooke followed as he waved her up. Cage had to take a chance and use magic and hope an alarm or something might not be triggered. He whispered spells on the lock in his hand, dropped it and shut the hatch. The padlock hovered in the air and when the two rings sat side by side, one on the wall and the other on the access hatch, the lock threaded its bar through the rings and locked itself. Cage waited for a few seconds and realized the magic he used didn’t raise an alarm.
They moved off to the darkest corner of the roof and he uncoiled the rope he brought. He made a knot in one end and firmly jammed it between a crack in the blocks. Brooke slammed her eyes shut as she looked over and Cage said softly “I know you have a fear of heights, but it is our only option.”
“How do you know I fear great heights?” She asked to stall for time.
“Back when we were cutting through the Darshay Mountains. Now if you want to get out of here I suggest you get your tight ass over the edge. Would you rather I tied a rope around your waist and lowered you?”
She smiled. “Yes, I would trust you more than myself at the moment.”
Cage securely tied the rope under her arms and she slowly crawled over the edge and held on while the rest of her dangled. He placed his legs on the prison’s lip for support and she let go under duress and nearly screamed as the rope is all that supported her from pain. He knew it would take another ten feet or more to be deadly if she fell. His powerful grip easily lowered her safely and silently to the ground. When the rope slacked he threw the remaining over and in a minute he found the firm ground. Brooke found it difficult to undo the knot and Cage finished what she started. He then shook the rope until it worked its way out and fell. So long as it bore weight it wouldn’t release. Jiggling the rope though worked the evidence of their escape out of the crack. Cage then began coiling it while walking away in the darkness as it began raining again.
Brooke waited a few minutes till they were in the clear before commenting “Cage, I know you love my tight ass.”
“I do.” He smirked and then came to a sudden stop as Brooke wrapped her arms around him. She instantly began to cry aloud and shake as she held him, releasing all the emotions she felt. Cage saw her cry only once before. She lost control as she clung to him in the pouring rain. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He soothingly whispered “You are alright, My Love. I’m here. Let it out.” She clung and he held her.
After a few minutes her pain lessened and she looked up in the darkness to kiss him. “My Love, thank you for rescuing me. I almost lost everything again if not for you…”
“Shh… tell me when we get to our room. I’ll warm you up.”
She nodded and he led the way, sticking to shadows in case someone found out.
Keegan gladly sent a servant to dry Cage’s clothes again as he laid Brooke in the bed. She lost all her trademark firmness and sat exposed from recent experiences. He wondered what could make her do that. The incident in these past few hours must have really been difficult as she went into mild shock. He helped her out of her top and bottom and got her in bed. He slipped beneath the covers and pulled her into his warm embrace. It took time, but her shivering subsided and her flesh warmed. He kept whispering that she is safe and well. While he held her he slowly healed her swollen eye and the pain vanished.
A knock on the door came and Cage retrieved his clothes and tipped the worker. When he turned around from shutting and locking the door he found Brooke sitting up and wiping tears from her eyes. “Forgive my behavior, Love. I do not know what came over me. I have not felt this emotional since I birthed Rena or lost our woman.”
He put his clothes away and sat beside her. She grabbed his hand and wound her fingers with his. He kissed her cheek. “Tell me all that happened and why you said they were going execute you. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”
Brooke gave him a tender, loving look before a soft kiss. “For that I am beyond grateful… it isn’t a very long story, but if not for your intervention I’d be dead.
“When I was out marveling this city and all the different kinds of people I believed my day to go well. The storm approached and just before it did I heard the crashing of a shattering pot. I went to investigate and found a man with expensive clothes slapping a pregnant young girl. Apparently she accidently spilled wine on the fabric and he slapped her with all his strength. I told him to stop, but he said the child she carried is his and that she is his servant to discipline as he saw fit.” She looked down at their connected hands, her silky copper to his firm black gauntlet. “It reminded me of what Rena’s father did to me.
“I saw enough when he slapped her again and ran at him. I thought of using my weapons to do the lands a service, but killing is not allowed in Castle Emroc. Instead of killing him I shoved him off her. When he recovered and saw me standing between him and the pregnant one he went to hit me. It was a serious mistake as I broke his arm and tried that elbow strike you taught the children and actually broke his nose. I knew the man would be furious and I saw sisters from another tribe and showed them my priestess beads. I yelled to the women ‘Sisters, take this young one away from the cruel man. See she never see’s him again. She doesn’t need to be with him and allow the child to have such a father.’ Well… six moved and picked up the crying young mother-to-be and spirited her away. The sisters will see to her wounds. When I saw her last her face bled and already swelled. The man became enraged as I expected and tried running after her, but stopped as I moved in his path. I expected him to hit me again, and he tried using the arm I broke, but realized I was the superior warrior. The man pulled something from his pockets and yelled ‘Mage! Come here!’
“Before my eyes I saw a grey light appear next to the man and out came a magic man in brown robes and carried a staff. The mage looked around and at the man to say ‘Lord Doyle, what has happened?’ and Lord Doyle pointed his remaining good arm at me and ordered ‘Kill the ugly bitch! She laid a hand on me and I’ll see her dead before you g
o get my servant from the other savages.’
“Then the mage looked at me and I drew my weapons to defend myself, but the magic-man didn’t seem bothered. He then said ‘My lord, I cannot kill her while we are within the capital. It is forbidden. The law will see her dead for striking a noblemen such as yourself. What would you have me do before the sky bursts?’” Brooke shook from the memory. “And Lord Doyle seemed to realize that the mage had said he couldn’t kill me with so many witnesses. He gained control of himself and said ‘Make the bitch suffer as best you can without breaking the law. We’ll see her hanged in the morning.’” She met Cage’s calm, tranquil black eyes and found comfort in them. “The man then used some kind of magic and I suddenly found myself unable to move anything except my eyes. Cage, I don’t know what he did, but no matter how hard I tried I just could not move. I could breathe and that is all. I felt nothing as I fell to the ground. Then I saw the man heal his master and Lord Doyle came up and punched me in the eye. He stopped his second blow as a pair of soldiers approached to see what happened.
“Lord Doyle said I accosted him and if not for his mage servant’s healing he might have died. The crowd tried to object, but the mage did something to silence everyone and keep them from moving. It looked like nobody disagreed and the caster acted as if nothing were amiss. I cannot even begin to tell you how frightened I was by that point.
“The soldiers picked me up and the last I saw of that cruel bastard was his smug grin. I was then helpless as they drug me to that prison and locked away. One of the soldiers told me my death would be quicker than what Lord Doyle would have done if they hadn’t have arrived. Then they left me laying on that floor.
Familiar's Ancient Throne (Book 2 of the Death Incarnate Saga) Page 12