by Jenner, M
Finally they reached Breeze and entered through the tradesmen’s entrance; Ty thought it would be safer this way. He flipped the farmer a coin and bid him good day. After searching the town he eventually found an inn – slightly more expensive than his usual haunts, but Ty thought it best to get somewhere less troublesome than the Bucket of Blood in Forkvain.
The Red Horse inn boasted massive stables, housing many horses of quality. This was a rather high-class inn, and Ty knew his story about being ambushed and robbed on the road – hence his shabby appearance – would definitely raise eyebrows within days. Even so, the innkeeper took enough of Ty’s gold to cover a minimum stay of three nights.
Once in his room upstairs, Ty laid the backpack on the bed and checked on the dragon. It was still sleeping. He opened the cupboard door, then gently placed the bag on the floor, leaving the flap up. He closed the cupboard door quietly, and locked it. Time to find the others, he thought, but first I need to get cleaned up and get some supplies.
He purchased some new clothes, then headed to a bath house. He couldn’t remember the last bath he’d had, so he paid for the full treatment – bath, shave, and haircut. Leaving the bath house, he had never felt so clean, and the aching in his limbs seemed to have disappeared. After eating his fill of eggs, bacon, bread and warm Lillie tea, he went to the marketplace and purchased cheese, biscuits, fruit, and five live mice. A good variety, he thought; surely it must eat some of these things.
He purchased a few weapons to replace those he had lost – particularly a dagger to fit his empty wrist holster – then, with his new hood raised, headed to some local inns where he listened and questioned. It didn’t take long for him to find out that three men had been brought through here two days ago by the King’s guard, and exactly where they were being kept.
He headed back to the Red Horse; it was now mid-evening and he needed a good bed; his companions would have to wait another night. Two days ago, the man in the inn had said. How long had he been stuck in that cavern? Two days, floating in the water? It didn’t seem possible.
After locking the door to his room behind him, he threw his cloak and other new possessions onto the bed and unlocked the cupboard door. He opened carefully, and he saw that the dragon was sitting up on the backpack looking around. Upon seeing Ty, it made a tiny squeak. Ty knelt down and the dragon immediately jumped up onto his legs. Ty scooped the dragon up and held it up at eye level.
“What are we going to call you, eh?” he whispered.
Standing up he walked to the bed and set the dragon down on the pillow. He unwrapped the cheese from the market, along with the fruit and biscuits, and laid them out on the bed. The dragon came over, sniffed at the offerings, then walked away, “I guess not,” Ty said. “All right, what about this, then?” He plucked a mouse from the box and held it up by the tail. With the hilt of his dagger, he struck the mouse on the back of the head. It fell still instantly. He dropped it onto the bed and the dragon sniffed at it, then flapped his wings and turned back to sniffing the bed and his new surroundings. “Really!” Ty said. What the hell do you feed a bloody dragon, then? he wondered.
As he pondered, another mouse jumped out of the box and ran along the bed. The dragon turned in a flash, spread his wings, opened his jaw wide, and squealed. Ty knew he was trying to breathe fire; the mouse seemed to draw the same conclusion, and it jumped down to the floor and scurried under the bed. Within a heartbeat the dragon followed, making Ty jump. He tried to catch the dragon but he was gone under the bed in a shot. Ty knelt down and lifted the bottom of the bed sheet just in time to spot the mouse’s tail sticking out of the dragon’s mouth – then with a gulp it was gone.
He reached up and grabbed another mouse from the box, letting it go on the floor. The mouse scurried towards the gap underneath the cupboard. The dragon gave chase and, with quite frightening speed, caught and grabbed the mouse. With a crunch and flick of his head the mouse disappeared.
Ty sat on the bed looking down at the dragon. “So that’s what you wanted, some sport food,” he said, smiling. The dragon returned to the bed and tried to jump up, but couldn’t quite manage. Flapping his wings, he tried and tried until eventually Ty picked him up and sat him on the bed. Ty shut the box with the last two mice in it, and placed it in the cupboard. “Your breakfast,” he said to the dragon, then laid back on the bed. With the dragon curled up next to him stealing his warmth, Ty pulled the cover up over them both. Within minutes they were asleep.
Kern swung his sword in a wild arc in front of him, “Come out and fight me, you little whore!” He spun around, his sword again circling and slicing through the air. “Show yourself, you bastard,” he cried as he swung his sword wildly, turning round and round like a blind man. A small cloaked figure holding two daggers stepped out from behind a tree and crouched in front of him, ready to attack.
Ty sat up the next morning and let his eyes adjust to the morning sun that shone through the window while he cleared his mind. He’d had some troubling dreams, he thought, but he couldn’t quite remember any details. He must have been truly exhausted; he couldn’t believe he had slept so long – or that he had left himself so unguarded. Then he remembered the dragon and panicked briefly, until he lifted the covers and saw the creature there, still sound asleep. “That’s what I will call you – Sleeper,” he said.
Looking out the window he gauged the time as midmorning. He gathered his gear and stood looking at Sleeper uncertainly. Do I risk leaving you here, or do I take you with me?
He walked downstairs and headed to the bar, which the plump innkeeper was wiping down.
“Good morning,” Ty said, acting as posh as he could manage.
“Afternoon, er…?” the innkeeper replied.
“Ravenhill, Mr Ravenhill – but you can call me Bill,” Ty answered. “Now, just a quick question about my room, sir. I purchased some goods yesterday that I intend to take to Forkvain for resale. Do I have to carry the blasted things about with me, or are they safe in your establishment?” Ty said, folding his arms.
“Well, for a small fee I can make sure nobody interferes, if you know what I mean,” the innkeeper said with an oily smile.
Trying to maintain his disguise as a wealthy merchant Ty didn’t hesitate; he took out a gold piece and flipped it onto the bar. “Good man,” he said; as he walked back to his room he was already scheming ways to steal the gold piece back.
He placed the still-sleeping dragon on top of a pillow in the bottom of the cupboard, then grabbed the two remaining mice by their tails and tossed them into the cupboard. He quickly shut the door, sealing their fate.
Ty left the Red Horse Inn and headed towards the house where his companions were allegedly being held captive. He wondered briefly if perhaps they were being treated as honoured guests – anything but prisoners – but he doubted it; just the fact that they had been carried through the town on a cart told a story by itself.
He strolled past the main gates and tried to gauge how many guards patrolled the grounds. He counted two at the gate, two on the main door, and two walking around the house. Once he was past the gate and out of the guards’ line of sight he sprinted, trying to get ahead of the patrolling guards. After about fifty paces he came to a tree that grew outside the house’s great wall, but overlooked into the garden. He stood at the bottom and spat onto his leather gloves out of habit. After rubbing his hands together and taking a quick glance around, he jumped up and grabbed the lowest branch. With a heave and a strain he pulled himself up; sitting on the low branch to catch his breath, he suddenly realized how unfit he was. He still felt a bit disoriented, and figured he must have taken a blow to the head while being tossed around the underground river.
He had another careful look around before going higher. Up and up he went, until he could clearly see the inner wall. The two guards patrolled in one direction and he could see another pair walking towards them, but there was no sign of an entrance along that side of the house. He climbed down and walked around to the back of
the house where another tree was positioned perfectly. Once more he climbed up for a better view – and there it was: The back entranceway and, if the stories were to be believed, the door leading into the dungeon. Not many ever used it as an exit.
Guards patrolled the grounds in pairs. Ty counted; maybe forty-five seconds to get down, over, and pick the lock, and that’s if it isn’t barred from the inside or guarded. I’m not a fighter, he thought, I’m a thief, a damn good thief but not a miracle worker; there must be another way in.
Climbing down to the ground and pulling his hood up, he continued to walk around the wall of the house. “Think,” he hissed under his breath. “Think, gods damn you, Rat!” Then he grinned. “That’s it! Rat! Go in like a rat! Brilliant!”
Ty hurried round the house looking carefully at the ground, until eventually he came across a drain cover. It was in the open and he knew he would have to come back at night. He knelt down as if inspecting his leather boot straps, then flicked his dagger out and prized it under the lid of the drain cover. To his surprise it lifted easily. He flicked the dagger back into its holster and made his way back to the Red Horse, visiting the market on the way to buy suitable clothes, some weapons, rope, and more mice.
Chapter Nineteen: Rats and Sewers
Ty sat on the bed and fed Sleeper. The dragon ate three mice; Ty thought he looked bigger already, but dismissed the idea as being unlikely. Once Sleeper had fallen asleep he did the same as he had done the night before, settling the dragon into the bottom of the cupboard complete with the scurrying mice. He left two mice in the box up top.
Rat put on his newly purchased dark clothes and strapped three short swords to his back as tightly as he could without restricting his movement. Then he wrapped black leather bindings snugly around his wrists, boot tops, and neck. He had been down in enough sewers to know where the shit seeped in. He tucked a small torch into his belt and a waterproof pouch with flint and tinder in his pocket.
He left the inn and headed towards the drain cover he had found earlier in the day; on his way there, he stopped to climb the tree at the back of the house. He waited for the guards to pass, then tied the rope to the tree and lowered it down into the grounds. Hidden behind a tree within the walls, it was one hope of escaping if all went well; even if it was discovered, Ty didn’t think it wouldn’t give much away.
Ty froze as he saw a guard walk round and stop below him, lean against the tree, and light his pipe. The rope dangled just behind the guard, slightly too close for Ty’s comfort. Then he noticed the guard’s money-pouch attached to his belt by thin leather straps, and his thieving instincts took over. Without thinking he leaned out and grabbed the rope; wrapping his legs around it.
Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he froze in position, knowing it would be nigh on impossible to make it to the ground being so close to the guard. He tried half-heartedly to talk himself out of the temptation, then gave in to it fully and looked around. How could I distract him?
But he didn’t need to create a distraction; just at that moment two patrolling guards came around the side of the house, each man holding two dogs on leather leads. The dogs began barking wildly and Ty readied himself to go, thinking they’d caught his scent. Then he realized the handlers were encouraging the dogs to play-fight against each other. This was the cover he needed. He slid down as quietly as possible.
After landing gently behind the guard, Ty remained motionless, making sure he hadn’t been detected. When he was certain, he edged forward until he was directly behind the guard. Pulling out his tiny double-bladed dagger, he held one hand under the pouch and snipped the purse strings. Holding the purse, he waited, but the guard never moved except to call encouragement to his two comrades and their dogs. Ty slipped the pouch carefully into his pocket and quietly stepped backwards to the rope. Grabbing it with both hands, he pulled himself up until he was safely back on the branch. The dogs had moved on, and the guard took a few more puffs of his pipe, emptied its contents on the ground, and resumed his patrol.
Ty smiled to himself and opened the pouch to reveal a handful of silver pieces and a small key. He slipped the coins into his pocket and placed the key on the branch. Not the best haul he’d ever had, but he was still happy. It isn’t the loot, he thought to himself, it’s the looting. He thought briefly about the patrolling dogs and wondered if they might hinder things later, but time was short. Cross that bridge when we come to it, he thought.
He waited in the shadows until no one was about, and pulled four pieces of rag from his pocket. Rolling them up, he stuffed one into each ear and filled both nostrils. He then covered his mouth with another, larger rag, and made his way over to the drain cover. Once there he quickly wedged it open with the tip of his dagger, slid it clear, and squeezed in and onto a ledge, pulling the lid closed behind him.
After lighting a torch he looked down into the sewer. Filthy black water and rubbish ran along the bottom, and rats scurried in every direction. The jump down from the ledge looked to be about six feet; if there had ever been a ladder it had long since rotted away, so he had no choice. He tried to work out the depth of the water that flowed through the sewer; two feet max, he guessed.
He sat on the edge of the ledge and placed the torch between his teeth. He dropped into the water as smoothly as he could, but still made enough of a splash to wet the torch.
Don’t you dare go out, he thought as he blew on the damp embers, and slowly the flames returned to life. Hmm, maybe my luck is changing.
Even through his rags, the smell of the sewer was astonishing, bringing stinging tears to his eyes as all sorts of rubbish floated past him. He held his hand over his mouth and gagged at just the thought of what was down here. Then he shook himself mentally. No time to lose, he thought, so he made his way against the current through the sewer. Knowing the house was on his right side, about a hundred steps or so, he took the first right turn and headed down a slope, counting his steps as he went. The lack of rubbish here was a welcome break. At the bottom of the slope there was another sewer running right to left. He estimated that he must be under the house grounds, roughly halfway to his destination. Fifty steps to go.
He continued until he began to notice light filtering in from drains above his head. Looking up through one, he could tell it was the kitchen; the smell of food made a welcome change from the sewage smell. He extinguished his torch and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. With the light creeping in from the kitchens, it was just about possible to see.
After another fifty paces or so, he came to a hole at his head height. He peered into it and saw lights from the rooms above, shining through from drains on the roof of the narrow tunnel. A slight trickle of water ran down the tunnel and dripped into the sewer. This must be it, he thought. The hole looked tight, but part of Ty’s early training had involved fitting into spaces normal people couldn’t. It had helped him escape on more than one occasion, and Ty was particularly good at it. He shoved the swords and torches into the tunnel, then pushed his arms through after them. His shoulders were wider than the hole, but after a pull, a squeeze, and a few joints clicking out of their sockets, he lay in the tunnel.
He wriggled like a snake, slowly edging his way along until he was under the first drain. He bent his arm in front of his chest with a click; his dagger sprang from its holster and Ty chipped away at the grout and countless moons’ worth of dirt that held the metal drain in place. He could hear voices from above, but chipped away as quietly as he could just in case he wasn’t quite where he should be. Within a few minutes the drain was loose, and he gently pushed it up and slid it along. Not being very heavy or of any great size, it slid with ease. Using all his neck muscles, Ty peered out from the drain. He had come up in one of the cells; this one was empty but he could make out a person in the cell across the corridor. He hoped it was Kern, because he didn’t relish the fact of trying to squeeze back down into the sewers and try again.
He pulled his head back down and slowly li
fted one arm up into the room, followed by his head. He gritted his teeth as he dragged his dislocated shoulder up through the drain. After a lot of effort he was finally in the cell. He wrenched his arm and with a wince he clicked it back into its socket, then reached back down and grabbed the swords. He pulled the cotton from his ears and nose; looking through the bars he saw Kern, Galandrik, and Pedlyn.
Aside from the strangeness of having just broken into a cell for the first time, he also felt elation at having found the party, and wondered what elaborate way he should announce his presence. He hesitated when he remembered the last time he’d wanted to show off – it had nearly killed him. But… what the hell, he thought, I’m the Rat.
He crawled over to the door of the cell and, with infinite patience, contorted himself to squeeze through the bars. Then he slid out on his belly into the corridor between cells. He crept on his stomach over to his companion’s cell; when he was within touching distance he snaked an arm through the cell bars. He was about to tap Kern on the shoulder, when Kern spun round and grabbed Ty’s forearm. With a yank he pulled the thief into the bars, his head cracking against them.
“Ouch!” Ty shouted.
Kern let go. “What the hell are you doing, you fool?” he shouted back.
Ty slumped back, rubbing his chin. “I… I thought you were dead. I couldn’t see if it was you, I mean…” he spluttered, realizing that his attempt at a grand entrance had backfired monumentally.
“Hang on a minute, forget all that,” Pedlyn said. “How did you suddenly appear in here?”
“Yeah, and what took you so long?” Galandrik asked, gripping his cell bars and looking through.
“What about ‘Thank the gods you’re not dead,’ ‘Thanks for coming,’ ‘Good to see you’?” Ty said angrily.
“Just let us out, you fool,” Kern replied.
“No.” Ty folded his arms.
Galandrik grinned at the childish stance and said, “You broke into our jail house to not save us?” He started laughing. “That’s brilliant, lad!”