by Kris A Hiatt
“Then I guess I’ll go see Liernin and find out exactly what it is the baron has in mind for me.”
“If I hear of his return, I’ll send for you,” Drevic told him.
“I’d appreciate that.”
“It was nice to have finally met you,” Drevic said, extending his hand again. “Even under these circumstances.”
“Likewise,” Exodin offered, shaking his hand.
“Do you need help in getting there?” Drevic asked, speaking of Liernin’s palace after realizing the man lived in another city.
“Nope. I’ve been there many times, though it’s been many years. Take care.”
“You too,” Drevic told him. It was hard to miss the look in Exodin’s eyes and the way he looked toward the baron’s palace. It was as if it brought back old memories. Not all of which were pleasant.
Chapter 25
As soon as the door was open, a gentle ocean breeze brushed across his brow and he instinctively took a deep breath. He didn’t realize how much he missed that smell. He had been a captive for less than a week, yet with his fate seemingly sealed, he enjoyed the scent of saltwater and fish that much more. The sound of waves crashing against rock was constant yet quietly peaceful. Torchlight flickered upon a man who was leaning over the edge of the balcony.
“You’re early,” the guard said, clearly audible, even over the sound of the waves.
Treace knew he needed to dispatch of this man quickly so that they could escape. He thought about using the pommel of his sword to knock the man out, but realized that it wasn’t the best option. Once he awoke, the man could tell others the time of his attack, allowing others to deduce how far they could travel in that amount of time. Without knowing for certain there would be a ship leaving soon, he couldn’t take that chance.
Treace pulled the door closed behind him and took a step toward the man. The balcony was small so that single step brought him right behind his adversary and easily into striking distance.
“You couldn’t sleep or what?” the man asked.
Treace wasn’t about the stab the man in the back. If he was going to kill him, he was going to at least let the man see his attacker. Thinking of that, he was surprised the man hadn’t turned around. Someone opened a door behind him and he just kept looking out over the ocean. After a moment of consideration though, Treace understood. His job was to watch for people trying to get into the palace, not get out. Why would he think anyone opening the door behind him was an enemy?
After a moment, the man turned his head around. “Who the hell are you?”
Treace couldn’t let the man call out for reinforcements or he was surely doomed. He brought the tip of his sword up and thrusted, angling the sword toward the man’s heart. “I’m sorry,” he said as he felt his sword rip through the man’s clothing and pierce his flesh.
The guard grimaced in pain, but only for a few moments, before falling into Treace’s arms.
“Who—” the man managed to ask before the light went out of his eyes.
Treace slowly slid the man to the ground. He was very heavy and it took all of Treace’s strength to keep from falling over.
He didn’t like killing an unarmed man, and liked it less that the man did nothing to deserve it other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. He pulled the sword out of man’s chest and used his other hand to close his eyes. He didn’t like the soulless look of those eyes. They were haunting.
Those haunting eyes would stay with him for the rest of his life.
He turned around and looked at the door. He cursed himself a fool then. He left his friends behind with Brental and Disdane. They were not honorable men. He knew that when he opened the door, he’d find the hallway empty and that his friends were taken back to their cells. He lifted the handle and gave the door a gentle push.
“It’s him!” Moff said in an excited whisper.
“Thank Kaden!” Kiril declared, rushing to Treace and hugging him tight.
Treace looked over her shoulder as he hugged her back. The hallway was empty. “Where are they?”
“They walked away as soon as you went through the door,” Moff replied. “Never even said a word.”
Moffred stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
Treace dropped the sword and it clanged off the marble floor. He barely heard it, however, as he wrapped both of his arms around Kiril and held her tight.
“We need to jump,” Moff said, making them break their embrace.
“I can’t see the water,” Kiril pointed out.
It was dark and overcast. The light provided by the torches behind them didn’t offer enough to clearly see the waterline below them. The constant sound of water crashing against the cliff face droned on as they listened for a short time. He wasn’t an ocean expert, but by the sound of it, he thought it was at least twenty feet or more to the water. It wasn’t the height he was worried about. A jump into water from that height was easily survivable. He was, however, worried about any rocks that were hiding in the darkness. “I’ll go first.”
“Good,” Moffred said. “Because I can’t swim.”
“You lived on the ocean as a child, how can you not swim?” Treace asked.
“Nobles don’t bother with the dirty ocean,” Kiril pointed out.
Moffred shrugged his shoulders.
Whether he shrugged them because he agreed or because it didn’t matter, Treace couldn’t tell. It was what it was. He’d have to help his friend after he hit the water.
Treace grabbed one of the two torches and tossed it over the edge. He leaned over the railing and watched its descent. It was consumed by the ocean a moment later, but not before Treace saw what it was he was looking for.
There were several outcroppings of jagged rocks that jutted up through the water.
“Great,” Moff said next to him.
“Straight out,” Kiril reasoned. “That’s where we jump.”
Treace agreed with her assessment. The largest gap between rocks was straight out from the center of the balcony. After seeing a small opening in the floor, Treace realized it was where the servants likely poured their dishwater and bathwater out into the ocean. Most likely along with any unwanted or half-eaten food. He wondered if there were any large fish down there waiting for something else to be dropped down there for them to dine on. He thought about picking the sword back up to be able to fight off a shark or something, but decided not to, knowing he’d need both arms to keep him and Moffred afloat.
Treace climbed out onto the railing and sat down with his legs over the edge. “Count to ten and then jump. It’ll give me time to get out of the way. When you hit the water, go with it. Once you feel you aren’t going down any further, kick your legs as hard as you can.”
Moffred nodded and Treace flung himself over.
He half expected to crash against rocks, or at least collide with some that were under the water when the torch was dropped, but was relieved when he felt nothing as he crashed into the water.
He swam toward the surface with all his might. Once there, he looked up, trying to find where Moffred was most likely hanging over the edge. It didn’t take him long. The torchlight clearly illuminated his friend as he dangled over the edge.
Moffred leapt out and was quickly out of sight. It was too dark below the balcony for Treace to follow his friend’s descent. Moffred splashed into the water right beside him, scaring him.
He counted to five while waiting for Moffred to surface.
When he got to seven and Moffred still hadn’t come up, he took a deep breath and plunged into the water, swimming to find his friend. He couldn’t see, so he knew he’d have to be lucky just to bump into him.
The air was pushed from his lungs when something, or someone, realizing it had been about a ten count, crashed hard into his back from above. It had to be Kiril.
He wasn’t exactly an experienced swimmer, but he had grown up next to a lake and had ventured out from time to time. It didn’t take hi
m long to orient himself, but while doing so, he felt something brush against his leg. He reached out and grasped something. It felt like a wrist, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew it wasn’t a fish, so it had to be Moffred or Kiril. Knowing that Moff couldn’t swim, he really hoped it was him. There wasn’t much air left in his lungs and he pulled hard, trying to get whoever it was to the surface.
He came up gasping for air and pulled his arm out of the water, trying to bring whoever it was out of the water too. He realized then that it wasn’t a wrist he had ahold of, it was an ankle! He let go of the foot and reached down, finding a hold on some clothing, and pulled the person to the surface. As soon as he was out of the water, Moffred began sputtering and spitting up water. If he was able to spit up water, he was alive. Treace was grateful for that.
Treace maneuvered around his friend and wrapped his arm around his chest, trying to keep his head above water. “Kiril!” he called out.
“I’m good,” Kiril responded from an undetermined direction and distance. “Moffred?”
“I’ve got him,” he told her. After she said Moffred’s name, it sounded like she was closer to the cliff face than he was. “Swim to me. Follow my voice.”
“Okay,” Kiril said.
“Follow my voice,” Treace repeated loudly a few seconds later.
He didn’t have to say it again, for moments later Kiril came swimming up to him, bobbing in the water.
“Let’s get to the docks,” Kiril told him. “It’s not that far.”
Having taken a late night swim when he was eleven, he knew from experience that it was further away than it looked while swimming. Especially if you were as exhausted as he already was. The lack of food and water was becoming more and more evident. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to swim there on his own, let alone pulling Moffred with him. “I won’t make it with him,” Treace admitted.
“Give him to me,” Kiril commanded.
Normally, Treace wouldn’t agree, but he was too tired to argue and he knew she’d have a better chance at making it there with Moffred than he did. She at least had been fed and given water while she was imprisoned.
He pushed Moffred over to her and she put her arm around him in much the same fashion as he had previously done. It was evident that she wasn’t an inexperienced swimmer herself.
“Always knew you wanted your arms around me,” Moffred managed to say.
Treace could see the grin on his face and thought Moffred would go to his grave with a smile on his face.
“I’m just pulling you closer to the sharks,” Kiril told him.
“Liar,” Moffred said after spitting out seawater.
“Shut up and kick your legs at least,” Kiril instructed.
Treace had no idea if he did as he was told or not, but didn’t really care. He was more concerned with keeping himself above water. He flipped over to his back and began kicking his feet. He knew it was a slower way of swimming, but it was also less taxing. With his lack of energy, he thought it was the best way to ensure he made it to the docks.
At first, he was able to match Kiril’s speed and given that she was swimming for two, it told Treace that she was a far better swimmer than he was. But after a while his legs burned and he trailed behind her a good distance. He finally made it to the docks after what seemed like an hour to him.
“Here,” Kiril said, reaching out a hand toward him while holding a dock pole with the other.
He gladly took it and felt himself being pulled in toward her.
“Moff?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Up,” she told him, motioning her head above them.
“I didn’t think I was that far behind.”
“I’m surprised you made it at all,” Kiril replied sincerely. “Let’s get you up.”
The decking of the dock wasn’t but only a few feet above them. They were fortunate that it was at a high tide or else they’d have to find a way to climb several feet of waterlogged and slick poles. That or try to climb into one of several ships and boats that lined the docks, swaying and creaking with the waves.
She reached under his armpit and pushed up with her one arm, keeping the other securely on a section of rope in the water.
He fumbled for a good grip on the edge of the decking and was about to give up when someone grabbed his arm.
“I’ve got you,” Moffred said.
A short time later all three of them were safely on the dock.
“Judging by the amount of torches moving about,” Moffred observed, still crouched down at the end of the dock. “I’d say there’s at least a dozen guards patrolling here.”
“And that one’s getting closer,” Treace said, indicating a guard who had just made his way onto the length of dock they were on.
“We need to find a way around them and find a ship that’s getting ready to sail at first light,” Kiril pointed out.
“Even if we do get around them, how do we buy passage on a ship wearing these clothes?” Treace asked. No one in their right minds would offer passage to a group in tattered, filthy clothing like they were wearing.
“At least you don’t stink anymore,” Moffred offered.
“I’ve still got the coin purse,” Kiril told them, ignoring Moff’s comment.
Treace had forgotten that Brental had given it to her. He was surprised she didn’t drop it while swimming. It would be tough to swim while keeping a fist. Her swim must have been even more difficult than he thought.
“There aren’t any shops open at this hour,” Moffred said. “Even if there were, you couldn’t walk in looking like that.”
“He’s right,” Treace told her. He didn’t know if all of the inmates of the jail wore these clothes, or if it was only the clothing of servants. Either way, an escapee from jail or an escapee from their duties as a servant wouldn’t be allowed to purchase anything from any store. He was certain a person trying to do so would be detained for further questioning. “Either you’d be an escaped servant or escaped prisoner.”
“Good thing I have an idea then,” Kiril replied, getting up. “Stay here.”
She walked away, pausing to strip off her clothes and toss them into the water as she walked. Treace barely made out the silhouette of her naked form before she went off into the darkness. Shortly after he heard a splash and assumed she had jumped back into the water. Most likely trying to quietly swim under the guard. Why she felt the need to be naked doing it, though, he had no idea.
“If you don’t tell her you love her,” Moffred said sternly. “You’re an idiot. If I didn’t know that she loved you, I’d try my hardest to win her over.”
“You heard her in the cell. She repeatedly said she isn’t my girlfriend.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“So you keep telling me,” Treace told him, tired of hearing it. He knew he was ignorant when it came to women, but he didn’t see how this was the same thing. Sure he missed it when women hit on him, he was seemingly oblivious of it according to Moff, but in this case, Kiril made it clear they weren’t together.
“She’s been through a lot, we all have,” Moffred said genuinely. “But I’m telling you with certainty that the woman loves you. With your intelligence it boggles my mind how you miss it. Tell her you feel the same before it’s too late.”
“She just lost her father,” Treace pointed out. As soon as he said it, he felt bad. Moffred had just lost his father and brother. More recently than Kiril had. And yet after all he’d been through he was still sitting here looking out for his friend’s best interest. “I’m sorry, Moff, I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” Moff told him, pain clear in his voice.
Treace could barely see his friend’s face in the dark, but he imagined that he wore a saddened expression.
“We’ve all lost too much. Trust me, I know. I’ll never forget or forgive Shamir for what he’s done. I will have my revenge. Someday, I swear it. But I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t look out for the few f
riends I have. If you can be happy, then knowing that makes me happy. There’s not a better woman in the world for you then her.”
To hear his friend say that at a time like this was crazy to him. Even if he was correct in his assumption that Kiril felt the same way for him, now was not the time to tell her. She had lost her father less than two weeks ago. That pain was still fresh and telling her now that he loved her would only confuse her feelings. Should she continue to mourn her father or be happy that she may have found love? No, now was not the time. He realized then that he had just admitted that he loved her. It was a very pleasant thought.
“He sees her!” Moffred cried.
“We have to get to her,” Treace said, standing up.
“Wait!” Moffred commanded, grabbing his arm.
Treace looked back at his friend. Why would he stop him? He needed to make sure she was safe.
“Look,” Moffred said, pointing back in the direction that Kiril was in.
Treace did as he was told and noticed that the guard hadn’t moved, nor had he called out an alarm. He stood there with his torch overhead and appeared to be talking to Kiril in the water.
“I don’t know what she’s saying to him, or showing him, but it seems to be working,” Moffred remarked.
Treace didn’t bother to reply. He simply watched the exchange, or what he presumed to be the exchange since he couldn’t see Kiril in the water and he was too far away to hear them over the ocean and creaking boats.
The guard looked in their direction briefly but then went back to his conversation with Kiril. A moment later he bent down and seemed to take something out of Kiril’s outstretched hand. Not long after, the guard walked away. He moved with haste, but he wasn’t running. Nor was he calling out in alarm or anything.
“He’s bringing us clothes,” Kiril called out from under them a short time later.
“Do I want to know what you did to get him to agree to do that?” Moffred asked.
“I simply told him that two of my girlfriends and I were swimming off to the side of the docks. I said we must have been in longer than we thought and the tide took our clothes.”