Son of hell: Blood of wolves
Page 12
"That doesn’t sound very noble. Actually, it's disgusting."
"We all have different tastes."
"You're a strange one, werewolf. Actually, what you're telling me is that you wouldn´t hesitate to kill me."
"You got it. But tonight I’ll save your life first."
Élia was silent for a moment. "Why?"
"Because I sometimes enjoy doing good deeds."
"You never talk seriously."
"I do, but only when I am really upset, and then I use bad words," he coughed again. He suddenly wanted desperately to sleep. That was bad. He mustn’t he urged himself.
"Today, you were like a God of Blood - invincible."
"I am ... almost," he murmured and looked down at the silver chain. "It´s ironic really, I've always liked silver. I wanted to buy a silver ring once ... then realized that it wasn´t such a good idea."
The elven smiled. "You can joke even in this situation? Tomorrow, we'll all probably be dead. They’ll execute us."
"Not if we run away."
"How? We are locked up here. You're on the verge of collapse. Even if we managed to get out of the cell, we would need wings to get over the walls."
"Not wings... just a good plan."
"Enlighten me! Please do!"
Neran took a laboured breath. "I'm sorry, but ... just at this moment in time my brain is not fully engaged. I'm sure ... that with a little concentration, I can come up with something."
Their conversation was disrupted by the opening of a door somewhere. It creaked on its hinges as it did so. Neran tried to focus. Someone was coming down the narrow stairs, or that is what Neran assumed because he could not hear any footsteps.
With difficulty he raised his head and caught the whiff of a penetrating aroma. His nose tingled. He closed his eyes to savour it as best he could. It was a familiar smell, both terrible and dangerous.
The darkness was broken by the flickering light of a single torch. It cast shadows as it moved closer towards Neran.
Élia pushed herself up against the back wall of the cell. Just like Neran, she watched with baited breath to see who it was. A thin figure drew up in front of Neran´s cell, their face hidden by a hood. The keys rattled as they turned in the lock. The figure silently stepped over the threshold of Neran’s cell.
Neran narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The figure paused and hesitated. It came closer to Neran, its hood dropping to its shoulders. Neran blinked. It was the elven. Although illuminated only by the flickering light, it was enough for him to recognize her.
"You!" he shouted, and cringed as he leapt into the air. The elven stepped back in shock and dismay. "That’s impossible! I’m hallucinating. I am having delusions!"
The elven was obviously confused. "Werewolf, you are not hallucinating, but I don’t understand your response."
Neran kept staring at her. "Where did you come from? I thought they had taken you. They did!"
"Do you know me?"
"Don’t pretend that you don’t know me, you despicable bitch!"
Although her face remained calm, her icy blue eyes flashed with anger. "Beast, remember who you're talking to!"
"I know who I am talking to!"
"Neran, this is Lady Liadel," Élia said, "the Lady of Breetia."
Neran was utterly confused and momentarily lost for words. Was she really the Lady of Breetia? It wasn´t possible. It must be complete and utter nonsense. After all ... it made no sense!
"No, she can´t be," he countered.
"That silver has weakened you too much," Élia said, "your mind is ..."
"My mind is working perfectly fine, all right! It's a demon! She is a demon!"
Lady Liadel suddenly froze, her face turning to stone. "You claim to know me from long ago?"
"A couple of years. Or have you forgotten?"
The elven looked him in the eyes. "I must have."
"Liar," he hissed. "What kind of trick is this? Have you come to get me? Are you going to torture me again? It will turn out like the last time, trust me!"
"No, I…"
"Come on! Either be done with it, or get out of here!"
"I've come to ask you for help."
"Nonsense!"
"I am trying to understand your anger, but my memories are hazy. You know my other self, werewolf. Today, I have come to you as Lady Liadel, the wife and prisoner of Lord Karnelos."
Neran snorted while looking at her surreptitiously. "You don’t look like a prisoner to me. Put yourself in my place and then you might begin to understand."
"I will rescue you."
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Because I've been waiting for this moment for years. I didn’t become his wife out of my own free will. I’m detained here. I’m trapped here by magic," she said, pointing to a thick gold collar studded with rubies tied around her neck. "This collar keeps me here. I am trapped in the castle and the country. I hate Karnelos. I want to get out of this prison, just like you. So far, nobody has been able to help me ... until I heard about you."
“Sure, werewolf hero!"
"The key to my collar is in the tallest tower. I myself cannot touch it. If you get the key for me, I’ll let you go. Then we can settle old scores."
"What you owe me, elven, cannot be repaid," he growled.
"No one else can help you to get out of here. The silver will eventually drain all your strength."
"Under different circumstances I would send you to hell! It´s just my luck that by chance I’m stuck here because of you! I need you! Well, not you per se, but the Lady of Breetia, who just happens to be you, so..." he broke off, succumbing to the inevitable. He sighed and leaned the back of his head against the wall. “I have a headache.”
"So you agree? We help each other?"
"Yes. I don´t have much choice in the matter, do I? Now take off these damn chains!"
Liadel hesitated. "Swear that you won’t kill me."
"Do you believe the oath of a werewolf?" Neran sneered.
The elven looked at him closely. "Can I?"
"Today, yes," Neran sighed.
The elven leaned forward to remove the chain from his neck and shoulders. Neran pulled back a little. He wondered whether he should first force her to swear that she wouldn’t kill him. As she struggled a little with the weight he moved forward a little again, his suspicions alleviated. Neran sighed loudly as the weight was lifted from his shoulders and the chain fell to the floor. He could smell his own flesh and felt his skin twitch as it healed. The pain gradually subsided, but he still felt weak. He knew that it would take a while before his strength would return. The burns were healing more slowly than usual and he wondered whether perhaps he would be left with scars.
The elven moved away from him. "Listen. I'll give you the key to your cell. I only grabbed the one from the guard because I told him that I was going to visit you to try out my silver. Everybody here is all excited about you. We don’t see a werewolf behind bars every day. When you regain your strength, run away! The way to the tallest tower is just to the right of the entrance. There´s a staircase which you need to climb to the top. In the tower you will find the key to my freedom. I'll be waiting for you in one of the corridors on your way back. Don’t worry, I'll find you. Then we’ll escape together. I don’t want anyone to become suspicious until we are well on our way from the castle."
"Well, except for one small thing," Neran moved, his whole body aching as he did so. He was beginning to feel better. His strength was slowly returning. "We are taking Élia and the other elves with us."
"We can´t. It would attract too much attention!"
"Exactly, there will be chaos."
Liadel thought about it. "They change the guards at the gate at night, so there will be just a few of them." She looked at Élia. "If you can get to the gate unnoticed, it will be easy to kill them and run away. They will sound the alarm and the soldiers will be confused. This should give us the time and opportunity."
"It´s good to know that that mind of yours actually works! It´s rather unexpected," he noted.
"Sharp thinking is a necessity, but one cannot expect too much intelligence from a werewolf," she snapped back.
Neran clenched his teeth. "I think my strength is returning." He looked at the shackles that tied him to the wall, stretched his muscles and jerked with his hands. The shackles tore out of the wall, pieces of masonry clinging to the fixtures that once held them in place.
Liadel raised her eyebrows. "Impressive."
Neran grinned and broke the shackles around his wrists. Liadel began to hand him the key, turning on her heels as she did so, her dress swishing around her. Neran grabbed her hand and stopped her in motion.
"How will you explain to the guard that you lost the key?"
"I’ll think of something. Maybe they won’t even ask."
"Keep it," he said and handed it back. "My strength is coming back quickly. I’ll get out of here on my own."
Liadel raised her eyebrows and looked at him in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"Sure. You can go now."
The elven nodded affirmatively and left without saying another word.
"I don’t know whether we can do it, Neran," Élia said. "Getting most of the prisoners out of here will be almost impossible. They are too weak, some possibly dead ... Maybe I can run away with the stronger ones, but even that is uncertain."
"You have try! You don’t want to rot here, do you?"
The elven nodded her assent. "You're right."
"I´m glad you agree."
Neran waited patiently for half an hour. He did not want to risk anything. He wanted to be at full strength. In the meantime, he thought, his head overflowing. As he did so, he became more annoyed because none of his thoughts provided the answers to his questions. Where had she come from? Why had Karnelos chosen an elven as his wife? Didn´t he hate elves? Why must he keep her under lock and key with magic? Where did the magic come from? Was a wizard possibly helping him?
He stood up, shaking the thoughts from his head. "It's time," he said. The idea of escaping from this abominable place filled him with excitement. He felt a rush of new energy and stepped to the barred door. No guards were to be seen. They were probably patrolling above, near the entrance. Neran unintentionally touched the wounded skin around his neck and shoulders and lightly ran his fingers along the fine scars. He smiled.
He wrapped his fingers around the bars and pulled with all his might. The door broke off its hinges with a crashing sound and remained hanging in his hands. He threw it to the ground and strode out. Élia stared on in amazement. Neran was in a hurry and quickly moved on to her cell and then to those of the other elves. Élia followed suit, encouraging the freed elves to move quickly. Seven of them, including three members of Élia's entourage, joined the escape. The others that were lying on the ground didn´t stir.
Neran turned to the elven. "I’ll get rid of the guards and then you are on your own. You will have to be quick and quiet. There are only a few guards at the gate. Don’t hesitate to kill them. Make sure the gate is open when they sound the alarm!"
Élia nodded. "Thank you for everything, Neran, the last of the weer worves. If we get out of here alive, you’ll find protection in Neiwlur."
"Thanks."
He ran up the narrow staircase, the escapees scurrying behind him. He stopped at the door and kicked it out without hesitation. It splintered into tiny pieces like it was made of paper.
The guards jumped from their chairs - apparently interrupted from a quiet nap - and drew their swords. Neran floored both of them with one blow.
"Go! This is where we part company," he hissed at Élia. The elves seized the guards´ weapons and ran along a wide corridor towards the courtyard. Neran set off in the opposite direction.
The castle was quiet. Through the windows he could see that it was a dark night. He ran down the deserted corridor, the only sound accompanying him being the sound of his own footsteps. There was no light, pictures, or any decoration. A staircase appeared in front of him. He ran up the stairs and reached a landing, only to be confronted by a choice of passages. He paused.
"Great," he muttered. "Which way do I go?" The elven had said nothing about other corridors, but only to keep going straight on. He rested a little, gathered his thoughts and made a decision. He took the passage directly across from him. It was narrow and dark and went straight on.
Within a short distance he encountered another staircase. This one was only wide enough for one person. The stone steps were rough and wet and rose steeply, and appeared to turn into a spiral.
That had to be it. Before taking the first step, he looked back.Everything was still calm, puzzlingly so.He had expected the alarm to have already been raised.Elves were different from humans though, quieter and swifter. They managed to be nearly invisible when they wanted to.
He headed up the stairs, of which there were many. Neran reached the top in next to no time. In front of him was a thick solid wooden door. He hesitated. He would go inside, take the key and run. But what did the key look like? The elven had certainly not been full on details.
He grabbed the door handle to find that it was locked. He sighed, took a few steps back and ran and hit the door with all his strength. The impact was greeted with a loud bang and a cloud of dust. Neran repeated the attack and this time the door gave way. He rushed inside.
He came to a stop in the middle of the room and looked around. The room was not large. Opposite the door he saw a small window and a larger one built into the sloping roof. Starlight penetrated the darkness. The smell of spruce permeated from the floors and walls. The room was empty other than for the presence of a large chest inlaid with gold near the wall beneath the window.
Neran hesitated for a moment. Was he going to release a demon? Was he crazy? Maybe the elven wasn´t the only one who could help him, maybe ... But he had been searching for seven months without success. This was his first clue. His life had no other goal, no other direction ... He would simply have to deal with it.
He walked over to the chest. A strange aura radiated around it. As he stood there, a pleasant buzzing noise, like a soothing lullaby, began playing in his ears. He was entranced and suddenly felt like he wanted to smile and walk away. Turn around and walk away...
In that instance he noticed a shadow on the floor.
His instincts instantaneously kicked in, just as something leapt at him from the ceiling.
It threw him to the floor, claws cutting into his arm. He shouted and tried to push the creature away, but it was not easy. It held on to him like a limpet. He struggled and finally kicked the creature off him. It fell with a thud to the floor, rolled over on its side, and sprang to its feet. Neran saw for the first time who or what it was he was up against.
He had never seen anything like it, he couldn´t name it. It was a freak of nature, the size of a human, gaunt, with an unnaturally wide chest, and skin as grey as a mouse. The strangest thing were its legs - all six of them.
The creature went on the attack again. Neran stepped aside, but the creature was quicker. It bounced off the wall and went straight for his throat, baring its fangs. The fangs were long and eager to pierce. Neran dodged just on time, or so he thought. To his surprise, the creature turned mid-flight and snapped at him with its hooked claws, gashing his arm.
The wound pulsated temporarily with pain. Neran knew that it would pass soon enough.
"You'll have to rip my head off to kill me," he said. The beast shut its jaws, as if to say: "No problem."
"Come on then," Neran dared the creature, running straight towards it. Through sheer willpower, he forced his entire body to transform. As he ran, he turned into a massive lupine beast and with his claws slashed the creature's neck.
The creature stepped aside, a little surprised, and immediately retaliated. They collided into each other like a clash of titans. Neran revealed his brutality and gnawed the creature's chest. It in return swun
g its head violently, gored Neran with its fangs, and tossed him aside.
Neran slowed his fall by ploughing his claws into the floor, leaving deep scratches behind.
He stood up with a hunched back and looked directly at his opponent.
Neran raised himself onto his hind legs just as the creature pounced. He managed to block the creature's claws, but its remaining four legs ploughed into his body, knocking him to the floor. Seeing its opportunity, the creature, looming large above him, lunged its fangs at him. Neran had no time to react.Its fangs pierced straight through him, picked him up, and tossed him across the room.
Neran´s back hit the wall. He slumped to ground and remained lying there for a split moment. He felt blood trickling out of him and sapping his strength, the black fur on his belly turning ruby red. He whined softly and tried to scramble back to his feet.
The creature did not let him recover. It dashed towards him with its mouth wide open.
Neran gathered all his remaining strength and with lighting speed rolled to one side.
The creatures poised fangs dug deep into the wall.
It squealed, braced itself against the wall with its paws, and tried to set itself free. This was Neran´s chance and he took advantage of it. He jumped on its back, grabbed its head, and yanked hard. The creature´s spine broke with a loud crack. It hung there by its fangs, motionless, dead.
Neran staggered away and leaned against the wall, breathing hard, trying to regain his poise. He closed his eyes and willed himself back into his human form. The damn elven bitch ...she wanted to kill me! She must have known about that creature and I swallowed the bait!
He was still tempted to open the chest. Maybe it did actually hide a key or even treasure. The creature had been there for a purpose, to guard the chest.
Noise from outside brought him back to reality. In the ensuing battle he had not realized that the alarm had been raised.
Neran hoped that the elves had managed to escape. He had to hurry. He jumped towards the chest, took the gold lock in his hand and snapped it as easily as picking an apple from a tree. He threw the lock away and opened the lid. At the bottom of the chest there was another chest, only much smaller. He frowned, took it out, opened it and studied its contents with bewilderment. He really failed to understand what was in front of him. There was no key, no treasure, just a book.