Honor Bound Trilogy Box Set

by Jon Kiln

  Nisero heard footsteps thundering through the boards above his head.

  “Come on,” Berengar called up.

  Nisero dropped in with one leap. He bent his knees as he landed in ankle deep water with a splash. He suspected from the smell that it was more than just water.

  “Which way?” asked the King.

  “This,” Berengar gestured. “The flow is this direction and I feel a slight breeze. The city wall is closer in this direction as well. I think we’ll find our way out.”

  They followed the captain, slogging through the tunnel. Light and voices rose and fell from grates above them. Noises above led Nisero to believe that they were under outdoor streets again. Rushing filth came in from pipes and some of the grates above. They walked wide, but still got splattered as they went around.

  “I’m going to get sick,” Arianne said through a hand clasped over her mouth and nose.

  “Hang in there,” her father answered. “Throw up if you need to.”

  “Just get us out of here please,” she said.

  “I’m trying. I’m just hoping we don’t have to swim in a cesspool.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar enough with the nether architecture of the city,” said the King, “to be able to say clearly whether we will or won’t.”

  Arianne held her nose. “Did your ancestors consider digging a tunnel that went from the palace outside the wall?”

  “I’m not sure what all they considered,” the King responded. “I know the risk of such a tunnel is that invaders will use it to enter a city and take the palace.”

  “Couldn’t they do the same with this tunnel?” Nisero asked.

  “Indeed,” the King concurred. “It has been generations since this city was threatened with siege, but when it was, regular army units were placed at the mouths of these tunnels day and night to defend just that. Be thankful you have never had such an assignment, I suppose.”

  “I am, your majesty.”

  The King continued. “Believe it or not, these tunnels represent the greatest in modern achievement. Most cities don’t have them. They lead to longer life and greater growth. Lower rates of disease too, I understand. They are under the people’s feet every day and most of them don’t appreciate the great gift it represents. Of course, I think the protection from disease is negated if one decides to jump in and walk through it all.”

  Berengar smiled. “I’ll have us out soon, your majesty.”

  “Hmm, we’ll leave this part out of the chronicles of the kings.”

  “Am I imagining it or do you see light ahead of us too?” Arianne said through her hand.

  Nisero saw it and heard the rush of the thick fluid out of the end of the pipe. When they came to the mouth of the tunnel, they saw the sewage was pouring out through rocks piled down a slope above a broad, brackish lake. It reflected the sky and the sickly trees surrounding it in its deep blackness. The grass growing out from the edges of the dark pool was the deepest green that Nisero had ever seen.

  They climbed out along the rocks. Arianne slipped, but Nisero grabbed her shoulder. She came up groaning with her hand and forearm mucked. She did not bring her hand back to her face after that.

  They reached the base of the slope and circled wide around the cesspool out into the trees. Looking back, Nisero saw the wall of the capital in the distance. He saw taller buildings rising over and behind it, but they were not close enough to see any of the entrances or gates to the city. Nisero counted that as a good thing.

  “We are out on the western side, your majesty,” noted Berengar. “Other than away, do you have a particular destination in mind?”

  The King took the opportunity to catch his breath before answering. “In the long term, I’m not sure yet. I might have a short term safe haven. It may be very short term, but one night at a time may be the best we can do until we find some real allies.”

  “That should serve.”

  They made their way west and then northwest. They stopped long enough to wash their skin and boots in a creek before continuing onward.

  The King indicated an inn across a meadow as they exited the last line of trees.

  “It looks busy, your majesty,” said Nisero, slightly concerned. “Are you sure we should risk the exposure?”

  “I’m not much sure of anything, beyond our immediate company,” the King sighed. “But I have been here a number of times in the past, and they have kept my secrets.”

  The four began to cross toward the inn in the open grass. Arianne addressed the King. “What business did you have out at this remote inn?”

  Berengar whispered. “Arianne.”

  King Ramael smiled. “No, it is a fair question. If I trust these rogues with my secrets, I should be able to trust the last three people in the kingdom standing by me. I’ll say that some meetings are not fit to have within the walls of the palace. This is one of a very few places where I slipped away for such business. Some of those meetings were dark business with dark men.”

  Nisero looked over the King’s back to see that Berengar was looking at him as well. It appeared that neither of them much liked hearing Caffrey’s words from the King’s lips. Nisero wasn’t sure if Berengar was thinking it too, but the lieutenant wondered if Caffrey wasn’t one of those dark men from time to time. At the very least, the King was referring to men like him.

  “What was the other type of meeting, your majesty?” Arianne asked sweetly.

  The King tilted his head up toward the sky and tilted his gaze. “Well, I suppose in the same regard, some woman are the type you meet in the palace and some are the type you don’t. As I have grown older, I have had fewer of either type of meeting.”

  That made Nisero feel a little better that the King was not connected to Caffrey at the present.

  The King did add. “At my age, you just bring everyone into the palace and send them on their way when the business is done. This sort of slinking about is the game of younger men.”

  “I would agree with that,” Berengar chuckled.

  The King led them around the side and to a door at the back corner of the inn. He gave a knock that was in such an odd pattern that Nisero knew it must be a code. The door jerked open and Nisero dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword. A grizzled man leaned out. He was backlit from fire through the grates in the oven. The man had scars on his face that rivaled Berengar. The stains on his apron overlapped one another.

  The man eyed each of them, but then lighted his eyes on the King and kept his attention there. “This is not how we are supposed to do this.”

  King Ramael took a step forward and stared straight into the man’s face. Nisero spotted Berengar’s hand moving to the handle of his blade as well. The King said, “But this is how we are doing it. I need to come in with my friends and I need to be undisturbed for the night.”

  “I’m done cooking and I’m sleepy.”

  “We will eat whatever you have to offer.”

  “I haven’t had a payment in a while.” The man stood up straight, filling the doorway. “I thought this arrangement was over.”

  “Your payment is my continued appreciation.”

  The man snorted and looked away. “I can’t spend appreciation. I can’t eat it either.”

  “You will taste and pay for it, if my appreciation is ever lifted, I assure you.”

  The man’s stance and expression changed a fraction, but it was enough that Nisero noticed. He stepped aside and pulled the warped door on its hinges. “I’ll cook together something. We’re busy tonight, so service will be slow.”

  The King showed his acceptance of the terms by walking inside and the other three followed. The man turned his face away as the last of them past. “Did you swim here through a pig sty? What is that smell? Don’t get that in my walls or furniture.”

  The King led them into a furnished parlor and closed the doors. He lit candles and then pulled the shades on windows. There was another set of doors at the far end of the room, and through the
crack between, Nisero saw the light from the next room interrupted by shapes passing. Voices rose in a ruckus. Nisero wondered why these able bodied men were not on the front defending their kingdom and what they had to celebrate so loudly in such trying times. The King pulled the two doors tighter together and affixed the latch.

  He dropped into a chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. The King’s eyes drifted closed. “Wake me when that sour man brings me whatever rump of beast he has cooked up.”

  “Do we want to discuss our next move for the morning?” Berengar asked as he inspected the room.

  “I am exhausted,” the King said. “Perhaps, we rest a while and then discuss later.”

  “As you wish, your majesty.”

  The captain and the other two sat down as well. Nisero felt his muscles nearly melt into the chair once he was off his feet. It felt like a mistake, but he let his eyes close too.

  The food never came. They were sleeping and did not notice the silence set over the inn.

  Chapter 17: The Man on the Left

  Nisero’s eyes slid open. He stared at the light through the crack between the far doors for a long time. It was different from the light before. It was a brighter and purer white, where the light slipping through when they arrived was muted and wavering, like light used for doing unsavory things in secret. The light that blazed through the latched doors was morning sunshine. The lieutenant also noted that this light was punctuated by silence instead of the clamorous celebration from the night previous.

  He slowly dawned to the fact that they had set no guards and slept through the night closed in their secluded parlor. No one had entered, left, nor checked on them. This was an unusual arrangement the King had with this private suite, and Nisero had no desire to know the details of the types of dealings the King had engaged in while here in the past. Having no one care to see that he needed anything for the whole night bothered him.

  He brought himself up to standing, and Captain Berengar startled awake where he leaned on the arm of another chair. He staggered up to his feet with more noise than the lieutenant and had his hand upon his sword trying to regain his bearings.

  “What?” the captain barked. His voice echoed off the walls and rang off something metal out in the main room. It was a quality of sound that Nisero had come to associate with abandoned castles. He listened and still no one came to check upon the King.

  King Ramael and Arianne stirred from Berengar’s outburst. The King said, “I am starved. Did food not arrive?”

  “It is morning, I think,” Nisero whispered.

  The King stood slowly and stretched. “I’m too old to sleep in chairs. What are you listening to, lieutenant?”

  “I am listening to nothing, and that is what I am hearing.”

  “Do you sense danger in that?” Berengar asked.

  “I’ve been surrounded by danger for too long to sense anything else. But, yes, I sense danger.”

  The King turned and walked to the far doors. He worked the latch and took hold of them to pull them apart.

  “Your majesty, wait,” Berengar whispered.

  The King paused and said, “My greatest joy in finally leaving that cursed tower is in opening doors when I feel like it.” The King slid the doors apart, dazzling everyone’s eyes with the harsh morning light pouring in through the front windows, over filthy tables and half-finished mugs of ale. “My next joy will be putting what is left of Marlex into one just like it.”

  Berengar and Nisero stepped out into the main room looking ahead of the King. Berengar stepped over an overturned chair as he approached the front of the inn. Nisero reached down and righted it. He looked into four nearly full tankards on the table left unfinished. The lieutenant tried to imagine a scenario where the men he heard through the doors last night would leave even the poorest quality drinks on a table unfinished. He could come up with nothing.

  The King stepped out into the mouth of the hallway that led back into the kitchen. “Hello?”

  His voice gave that same empty echo that brought up uncomfortable memories for Nisero. “We’ve been left alone in here for a reason.”

  Berengar reached the window. “Oh no.”

  He dropped to the floor and turned his back to the base of the wall. An arrow shattered the glass and embedded in the wall above Arianne’s head. Glass broke at the back of the inn.

  Nisero charged backwards, knocking over the chair he had righted. He took hold of the King’s shoulders and moved him into the alcove behind the bar. As they went down on their knees, Nisero said, “Arianne, take cover back in the parlor.”

  For once, she complied and disappeared back into the open doors.

  Voices sounded from the kitchen but Nisero could not make out the words. He shouted at them. “You approach up this hallway and I will geld you for your trouble. Who cares to be first?”

  He heard shuffling feet, but no one answered from that direction with voice or approach.

  Someone outside called out. “Captain Berengar and Lieutenant Nisero, we know you and your people are in there alone. Alone means if we have to burn the place down around you, we can. Come out and surrender yourselves and everyone with you. This is your only chance to face trial alive instead of execution on the spot.”

  Nisero heard feet moving again from the kitchen and he prepared for battle. Then, he realized they were retreating and he heard the door close. That filled him with a sense of real dread. Time was running out.

  Arianne called from the parlor. “Dreth?”

  “Commander Dreth,” Berengar hollered, “you do not know the full story. We act on behalf of the King and against those trying to take the kingdom through deception.”

  “I do not care about your defense,” Dreth yelled back. “I have my orders from the crown. They are not up for discussion.”

  “Curse Marlex to his dark core,” the King breathed out behind Nisero.

  “Your wife and unborn child are in here,” Berengar yelled. “Do not set us ablaze.”

  “For the sake of your daughter and unborn grandson,” Dreth said, “come forth.”

  The King stood and stepped out around Nisero. The lieutenant tried to grab him, but Ramael was past him. He stepped into the parlor and then back out with the crown clutched in his hands. He placed it upon his head as he crossed the room. Berengar saw the King approach the front door and reach for the handles. The captain scrambled along the floor trying to stay below the windows. The King held out an open hand in Captain Berengar’s direction.

  King Ramael pushed the handles and swung the doors wide. Nisero gritted his teeth waiting for the King to be struck down.

  The King shouted with a strong, commanding voice. “I am King Ramael, the rightful ruler of this land. Do you recognize me and my authority, Commander Dreth?”

  There was a long stretch of silence deeper than the tomb-like sounds of the purposely abandoned inn.

  Finally, Dreth replied. “I do, your majesty. We were not told you were being held. Step out here, if you can, and we will handle those left inside.”

  “Those inside are the ones that are loyal to me, commander. They have risked their lives to protect me from a plot to take my life and to steal my throne. Are you loyal to me, commander?”

  Dreth answered immediately. “Of course, your majesty.”

  “Then trust me when I say that you have been lied to, as well as some of your superiors who sent you here. Choose two of your men that you trust and come inside. Leave the rest of your force out and stand down.”

  The King stepped away from the door. He pulled out a chair at one of the filthy tables and sat down. Nisero rose up and stepped around the bar, not wanting to hide while the King sat exposed in the open. Berengar crawled away from the windows and stood as well. Arianne stepped out into the doorway of the parlor under the arrow in the wall.

  Commander Dreth and two men in regular army garb stepped in through the open door. Every man in the room that possessed a sword had his hand upon it
. Dreth’s eyes stayed upon Arianne’s face and his jaw was set.

  “Everyone, stand down,” the King demanded.

  Hands and bodies remained tense, but moved away from swords.

  “Why are you here, your majesty?” queried Dreth.

  “I was waylaid in my own palace by my cousin Marlex and dishonorable nobles that would take power that is not theirs. The murder of the prince of the east, the Elite Guard, the false accusations against these brave men and woman, and the coming war with the east were all chaos meant to cover the evil plan. Berengar, Nisero, and your wife mounted a daring rescue that took me from Marlex’s foul clutches.”

  Dreth looked around the room. His eyes lingered on Arianne before returning to the King. “I had no idea, your majesty. We were told our orders came directly from you. Your enemies are using your own army against you, my King.”

  “What were your orders which brought you here to burn us down, Commander Dreth?” the King asked.

  Dreth cast his eyes to the floor as he spoke. “We were pulled away from the march to the border, myself and a double unit. We were told first to return to the capital to search for enemies of the crown. Then, we were sent to patrol the land. The report came that Berengar and Nisero were here along with men that had joined in their plot against the kingdom.”

  The King looked around the room and back at Dreth. “Can I count on you and your men to join me now in settling this?”

  “Of course.” Dreth stood straighter. “I serve you, the rightful King, and my men answer to me.”

  “Are there others that might be swayed to defy the false orders they have been given, and join us in an assembled force to displace my enemies?”

  Dreth looked at the men on both sides of him and back to the King. “If you act quickly, perhaps. There are a number of patrols outside the city as we were. They will be out of contact from the false chain of command. We can approach them one by one and assemble a growing force. The city has not been locked down. We can enter before our numbers are known. We can convince those that are willing to listen and dispatch those that are not.”