Ancients

by Riley Keene

  Ermolt and Athala got up to leave, but Elise stopped them. She gave Athala’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Stay safe. And I mean it this time.” She fixed Ermolt with another one of her confusing glances—this was a mix between concern and frustration—and so he smiled pleasantly in return. She laughed quietly and then shook her head. “Keep her safe?” Elise hesitated. “Please.”

  She hadn’t had to ask. Athala was his friend, and so he’d do everything in his power to keep her out of harm’s way. Even if it killed him. He nodded and Elise walked away from the two of them, heading to the yard with the rest of the prisoners.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Athala and Ermolt immediately headed to the more administrative hallways of the prison. As the other prisoners left the mess hall to head out to the yard, their mass of bodies congregated around the southern exit. Athala and Ermolt found it easy to make for the northeastern door they’d both been through already and slip out without making a fuss.

  Athala took the lead, heading towards the room she’d met Ingmar in originally. She pressed herself up against the wall, creeping along quietly. If Ermolt thought it was unusual, especially since the hall was well-lit and empty, he didn’t say anything. Instead he followed along as best he could, staying close behind her.

  In all reality, Athala had no idea what she was doing. How did one look inconspicuous while performing an act that was very conspicuous indeed? Creeping along the side of the hall was the only thing she could think of, and that was only because she’d seen others do it in the stage plays her father used to take her to as a child. If they came across anyone, it would be a real nightmare to try to explain what they were doing. But she could think of no other option.

  They approached a crossroad in the hallway, Athala crouched down to peek around the corner. She turned back to Ermolt and whispered that they were getting close.

  “Should we start checking doors?” he asked, whispering as well.

  “Almost. I want to start with the door right across from his office. He strikes me as the sort to want to be close to the weapons.” She tried to suppress a shudder and failed. “We’re almost there,” she whispered, pointing ahead. “Just two more doors down.”

  They crept ahead carefully, Athala shivering again as they came upon Ingmar's office door. They approached the door across from Ingmar’s office cautiously. Athala took hold of the doorknob and turned it slow, trying not to make a sound. She slipped inside as soon as the opening was wide enough for her, and Ermolt followed her lead, closing the door behind himself.

  Athala immediately regretted the decision. Ermolt and Athala stood very still, pressing themselves back against the door.

  The room they were in was not the armory.

  Nor was it unoccupied.

  Instead, they were in the barracks.

  A row of cots stretched out to their left and some of them held sleeping bodies. At the far end of the room, there was a small round table, where a quartet of guards were seated, playing cards over a dish of cut fruit. They were all focused on their game and so didn’t notice the prisoners who had just wandered in.

  “What do we do?” Ermolt whispered to Athala.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” she whispered frantically in return.

  “I could take the four of them if I can get halfway across the room before they look up, but the noise is definitely going to wake up the rest of them.”

  “Don’t try to fight them!” she hissed. “Can we get what we need in here?”

  “Maybe?” Ermolt whispered, taking a moment to look around the room. “There isn’t a lot of equipment in here. We might be able to find what we need with enough time, but I don’t know how much we will be able to rifle through things without drawing attention.”

  “So should we leave?” She scooted back, pressing as much against him as she was the door.

  “Probably,” he said with a nod. “Quietly.”

  Things happened slowly, then all at once.

  Ermolt settled his hand on the wooden door handle. He applied a careful amount of force to the door to open it. But the door was ripped out of his hands and it flew wide open. Ermolt and Athala almost fell out of the room into the face of the guard who opened the door.

  “Whoa!” the guard shouted, jumping back from the prisoners. Her baton was in her hand before Athala had even registered her moving for it. “What are you doing back here?”

  “Oh, uh.” Ermolt straightened up, raising his empty hands in a placating gesture. “Well, that’s kind of a funny story.”

  “Yes. Funny story,” Athala added, scooting back a little, as if she could hide behind Ermolt.

  “And what would that be?” The guard looked into the barracks, and shouted to the others. “Oy! You louts! Who the hell are these two?”

  “What?” came a reply.

  “Who?” was another.

  “We got lost,” Ermolt interrupted quickly. “Someone gave us some bad directions and we were just trying to find our way.” He scratched behind his ear, and Athala recognized his boyish nervous smile as a ploy he tried against Elise when she caught him doing something. “We’re new here, so I don’t know what is where.”

  “Alright,” the guard said, tilting her head to the side. Athala wasn’t sure if Ermolt’s plan was working, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. “And what were you trying to find?”

  “Well, I have reason to believe we were lied to,” Ermolt admitted earnestly with a quick sigh. “One of the other prisoners told us there was a, ah, a bath house back here?” He shook his head, chuckling. “It seems stupid now, but he was so convincing. My friend and I were just going to take a look. See, she’s used to such luxuries and just wanted a little reminder of home. We’ve been through a lot lately.”

  The guard laughed. “A bath house? Really? Who told you that one?”

  “Well, he said his name was, ah, Allie, do you remember? Perin? Pippin? Something like that.” Ermolt shrugged, and Athala just nodded behind him, trying to make herself as small as possible. “I’m terrible with names. But I’m good with faces. His might get a little rearranging if he’s going to make a habit of these sorts of pranks.”

  “Hey,” the guard said with a smile, brandishing her baton. “No starting any trouble, right? Are we going to have a problem?”

  “Oh, no, of course not!” Ermolt raised his hands defensively, but returned her smile. “I have to agree that looking back on it, this is a pretty funny joke. I just mean if he tries it on someone with less of a sense of humor—or who is happened upon by a guard with less of a sense of humor—he may not like what happens to him.”

  “Alright then.” The guard lowered her baton, returning it to the cloth sheath on her hip. “Well, let me walk you back to the yard so you can let him know. I’ll give you a little bit of a tour on the way, since you’re new.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. We can find our own way back, thank you, but I’m sure—”

  “No, no, I insist. I’d hate to see what would happen if you took another wrong turn and ended up in the Warden’s office. Or worse, the Deputy Warden.” The guard shivered and Athala found herself liking this woman. “The less you see of that guy—and the less he sees of you—the better.”

  “Well, I suppose a tour would help. Anything you can point out would help us figure out where we are and aren’t allowed.” Ermolt shrugged. “Or, at least, save me the embarrassment of being tricked into blundering into them looking for a market or a ballroom or something.”

  The guard laughed. “True enough. Let me just walk you back a bit to point out what’s down this way. Then I’ll show you the rest on our way back to the yard.”

  The guard led the pair deeper into the administrative area, pointing out the doors to the Warden’s chambers, the clerk’s office, the records room, and other various administrative facilities. Ermolt made small talk, trying to be polite as Athala trailed along, paying attention to the directions but mostly ignoring the conversa
tion.

  The guard turned the group around when they approached a door with more guards standing at it. She explained that it was one of the exits, but not one they should ever hope to have to use. One of the guards at the door chuckled with humorless laughter at that, but made no further comment.

  As they went back past the barracks, she pointed out a few other rooms as storage rooms for food, but she skipped over a couple of them. While Ermolt didn’t seem to notice, Athala made a point of remembering which doors were skipped. It was a choice Athala was grateful for when they arrived back at the yard without the guard pointing out the armory or any sort of equipment room.

  When they returned to the yard, Ermolt shook the guard’s hand, thanking her profusely for setting them straight. She clapped him on the shoulder, smiling and offering to show him around any other areas of the prison the next time he was struck by the urge to blunder into anywhere that might get him in trouble. Athala heard the flirtation in the woman’s voice, but Ermolt only laughed and thanked her again.

  Typical Ermolt. He had about as much awareness—and interest—in such things as Athala did in learning melee combat.

  Which meant none at all.

  Ermolt gave the guard a final wave and started to make his way out into the yard to find Elise.

  Athala started to follow, but the guard grabbed her arm. It was meant to be gentle, but the woman either didn’t know her own strength or Athala’s pain tolerance was off after her ‘visit’ with the Deputy Warden. “A moment, please.”

  “Um,” Athala said, looking down at the hand on her arm, and then out to try and find Ermolt as he vanished into the prisoners milling around the yard.

  “If you’re in trouble,” the guard said to her quietly, “find a guard and let them know. If that man is doing anything to you that you don’t like, I will personally make sure he doesn’t do it to anyone else ever again.”

  Athala blinked at the woman for a very long moment. “W-what? Oh! Oh, no. No, no.” Athala laughed, trying not to sound nervous. “No, Ragan is one of my best friends. He wouldn’t hurt me. He told the right of it—I’m just so stressed out and was really looking forward to a bath. I do appreciate your concern though!”

  “Alright,” the guard said, drawing the word out as if she didn’t believe Athala. She let go of Athala’s arm and it was everything Athala could do to not rub the area. “Just keep it in mind.”

  “Thank you. I will.” Athala began to scoot away, picking at her fingernails. “Thank you.”

  As soon as the guard turned away, Athala scurried back out into the yard, trying to either catch up to Ermolt or find Elise. She had just begun to feel a twinge of fear when she spotted the top of Ermolt’s head above the crowd, and hurried back to his side.

  “Where did you go?” Ermolt asked, noticing her approaching.

  “I was detained,” she said, but waved the question off otherwise. “So, I have to know. How did you come up with that story about the bath house so quickly?”

  “Did I ever tell you the story of the first time I had to jump off the roof of a building?” Ermolt grinned as he straightened up, looking around for Elise.

  “No?” Athala frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “To make a long story short, basically exactly what I described happened, except it wasn’t a bath house, and instead of a random room in a hallway, it was a trapdoor to the roof that didn’t have a handle on the outside.” He shrugged. “It’s an easy enough prank that I would be surprised if nobody else has ever done it to a new prisoner here.” Ermolt, having spotted Elise in the yard, waved. “There she is.”

  “So, how did it go?” Elise asked as she approached, grabbing Ermolt and Athala by the elbows and leading them back to the nearest wall, where they could avoid scrutiny.

  “Well, we didn’t get any weapons,” Ermolt admitted, “but we got some information.”

  “That’s not great, but I’ll admit that I’m not terribly surprised.” Elise sighed. “But any room you checked is one less door for me to look in.”

  “Well, to start, we only really checked one door,” Ermolt began and Elise closed her eyes slowly, lowering her face into her open hand. “But that’s because we walked right into the guard barracks!”

  “We got a guard to give us a tour,” Athala cut in before Ermolt could dance on Elise’s nerves any longer. “So you won’t have to check a bunch of doors.” She knelt down and started drawing out the hallways in the dirt. “She didn’t mention every door, so you would only need to check those.” She drew little circles on the crude map, marking the few doors that hadn’t been mentioned.

  Elise knelt down next to her while Ermolt kept watch. “They’re all over the place,” Elise observed. “Can you narrow it down any?”

  “Well,” Athala scratched out a couple of the circles. “I don’t think it’s any of these. The rooms around these two are food storage. If they put the armory down there, all the prisoners would need to do is force their way there during a riot. They could barricade this part of the hallway,” she motioned with a finger. “Then they could endure siege for a long while, or even use it as a foothold to force their way to the nearest exit.” She pointed at the exit the guard had pointed to where they had turned around.

  “That’s not actually an exit, Athala,” Ermolt said, clearing his throat. “The guard said it was, but that was a joke. I’m pretty sure it’s where the chopping block is and where the holding cells are for those who are, um, scheduled there.”

  “Oh. Er. Well, there might still be a way out through there?” Athala asked, displeased to hear her voice crack a bit.

  “Even if there is, the guards there are probably more numerous and better armed.” Elise shook her head. “Not to mention that if anyone else escapes in the chaos of our own way out, I’d rather it not be anyone so bad that they’re being put to death.”

  “Alright. But I still know it’s not those doors. These either.” Athala crossed out two more circles.

  “And why’s that?” Ermolt asked.

  “Ingmar had me questioned in this room.” Athala pointed. “These rooms around it are probably the other interrogation rooms, and if they aren’t, they won’t be the armory. If they brought someone like Ermolt down here to drive him mad with pain, and he broke free, the last thing they want him to find in the next room is a rack of swords.”

  “Alright.” Elise pointed to the remaining circles. “So I only need to check these?”

  “Actually, I think it’s probably in this area.” Athala pointed to three circles on one side of the crude map. “They’re close enough to Ingmar’s office that he’d feel comfortable with his ability to access them, and they’re far enough from where prisoners are likely to be.” She pointed over to the other circles that she hadn’t crossed out. “These are still a possibility, but I would check this area first.”

  “Alright. I should get moving then.” Elise straightened up, keeping her eyes on the map for a moment more.

  “What, right now?” Athala asked, surprised.

  “Sooner is better,” Elise said with a nod. “Especially if that guard did raise a red flag on you two. The sooner I go, the less chance they start keeping an eye on me, too.”

  “Good plan.” Ermolt patted her on the shoulder. “Good luck, then. There wasn’t a lot of activity back there when we were there, but that might have been luck.”

  “Be safe,” Athala said, giving Elise a brief hug.

  “Don’t worry,” Elise said as she returned the hug. “I will.” She gave Ermolt a quick punch to the shoulder before ducking away, making her way back toward the prison building.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Elise walked with purpose. Head back, eyes forward. The guards didn’t give her any trouble. In fact, they barely even gave her a second look as she headed back towards the administrative areas.

  Moving along like this reminded her of when she was a child. Elise’s broad smile and ability to act like she belonged weake
ned the resolve of many merchants, and made them easier to steal from. Not to mention the tourists who were relieved of purse and parcel just for overlooking the little girl who didn’t look like the urchin she was.

  Once inside the administrative areas she kept her head high and her stride intentional, even though the hall was empty.

  She managed to get halfway to her destination before she saw another person, and the guard she passed gave her a look but let her be. Elise wasn’t sure if it was because she wasn’t too far in—it was still believable that she was within areas where prisoners might have been instructed to go—or if she just got lucky and walked past the only guard who might believe a prisoner could outrank him.

  After the guard was out of view, she started to move more cautiously. As she approached an intersection of two hallways, she softened her steps, moving more carefully toward the corner, slowing down to take a quick peek before rounding the corner when she saw she was alone.

  It wasn’t long after that Elise heard footsteps approaching from behind, and so she hurried to the nearest door.

  Elise carefully opened the door and stepped inside, closing herself into the room, head held high as though she still knew where she was going.

  The room was a supply closet, and Elise instantly relaxed. Cleaning supplies and implements filled the room, barely visible in the sparse light that came in under the door.

  Elise pressed her ear to the door, listening. The footsteps grew louder. She sank to the floor slowly, trying to remain silent. There was nowhere to hide.

  She put her eye to the crack between the floor and the bottom of the door, watching as feet approached.