by Wade Adrian
Tom rolled his eyes. Stupid paladin trusting in the common good nonsense. These people might be taking them to a firing squad. King's kid was a flake, and the pair of them knew that. Information like that could not become public. They would make sure of it.
But... he had to admit he probably wasn't getting out of here. It was even more unlikely if he was going to have to drag Max along once he figured out how to unlock the shackles from the bar.
Okay. It seemed unlikely but...
Damn it.
Tom leaned against his own wall, trying to get comfortable. "I hate you."
"Society affords you that right."
"Society can bite me."
Max chuckled.
Tom sat bolt upright when he heard the locks turning.
A guard stared daggers at him while holding the door open for King Brynjar.
The graying man settled into the seat opposite them once more.
The guard bowed his head and shut the door.
"We'll be moving momentarily." Brynjar tossed a wrapped bundle at each of them.
Tom opened it skeptically.
Cooked meat and bread.
His nose wrinkled slightly. "What, no fruits or vegetables? Going to get scurvy."
Max didn't voice any complaints as he laid into his breakfast.
His trust in the society these people represented was at once both commendable and laughable.
Tom eyed his breakfast like it might bite him back. "I'm fuzzy on where exactly we are going."
"My castle. Lovely place, really. Built on top of a hot spring."
"Great." Tom set the bundle of food aside. "Which direction is that?"
"North and east."
Of course. The opposite of the way Yar had told them to go. "And after we get medals or whatever, how are we to get back here from there?"
Brynjar crossed his arms. "I'm sure something can be arranged."
Code for: Don't know, don't care.
Tom nodded a few times.
Society sucked. It was full of people out for themselves smiling with knives behind their backs while they talk about how great it is to be friends.
True to Brynjar's word, this time, the wagon train started moving. The sun had yet to find its way above the horizon, but the sky was plenty bright to move.
It was close to midday when Brynjar spoke next, looking out the window all the while. "Staring so is less than friendly, master Caddrach."
Tom shrugged. "The more time I spend in here, the more I get the distinct impression we're just being taken to some ditch you're going to bury us in, so I don't see a need to be cordial."
The king looked at him now. "Oh? Why would I do that?"
"We know your son joined the bandits."
Bryjnar smiled slightly. "He is young. Wisdom takes time."
"You still won't want people knowing that."
"I find it amusing that you assume the words of a pair of dirty foreign vagabonds have any weight on my son's future. We're not so trusting of outsiders as that. And even if we were, it's his word, my word, against yours."
Tom rolled that around in his head.
It did sort of sound like the kind of rumor someone might spread to discredit the kid. The people might well be inclined to ignore it on those ground alone.
Or hell, they might actually like the little twerp.
"I... guess."
The king smiled. "I require no subterfuge. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."
Tom shook his restraints. "Still not big on the hospitality, though."
"I didn't say I trust you. You yourself continue to insist I should not."
Max chuckled at that. "He's not great with people."
"Clearly."
Tom crossed his arms... as best he could with them chained, and sulked a bit. Jerks were ganging up on him.
He was being perfectly reasonable.
They were trusting in flimsy social constructs. Really, he was the sane one.
The king returned his eyes to the world outside his window. "Be at peace, master Caddrach. I know the doubts you harbor in your heart all too well. Quiet thoughts nag at me, too. What does hold us together? What force has made it so? Am I truly the best man to wear this crown, or has some power beyond my reckoning simply placed it on my head, passing over others? By what right do I rule? I don't seem more fit, stronger or more wise than any other. It all seems almost... arbitrary."
The king's voice had quieted as he spoke, until he was almost mumbling to himself.
Max looked like he'd seen a ghost, all pale frowns.
Tom shrugged. "I mean, yeah? That's called being in charge. Everyone gets like that under pressure."
The king turned his eyes back to the cleric.
"You do your best, you see what works, and you adjust your strategy. You might be the top of the chain, but I'm sure you have advisers. Ask them when you get stuck. They'll be straight with you since if you sink, so do they."
The king rubbed at his chin as he looked out the window once more.
"I mean, you seem to be doing fine." Tom shrugged. "All these people dancing to your tune."
Max leaned closer. His hands moved, speaking in the thieves cant. "Quit while you are ahead."
"What? Why? I was just getting to his crazy kid. Lock him up if needs be. Can always have another one. A better one. It's a low bar. I mean, you obviously have a queen if you have a kid."
The king didn't shift his eyes from the world beyond. "I'm a widower."
Max slumped against his seat.
He made the rogue hand signal for "Idiot."
What was wrong with that? "Well, I mean, kings are known for having a few wives on average, right? Henry VIII went through them like a pack of gum. Probably plenty of other women waiting for an eligible bachelor like you. I mean, how the hell could you be more eligible?"
Max groaned.
Oddly enough, the thieves cant version of "shut up" was punching someone in the arm. It hurt more than the direct translation called for. Maybe that was supposed to be extra punctuation.
Brynjar watched the world roll by. He leaned back against his seat. "We'll be there soon."
Tom wouldn't have really called the place a castle, but... he was used to something a bit more grand. And English. Arthurian. This place was only four or five stories tall, and while there were rocks involved, it would be a stretch to call it stone construction. Lots of logs and stuff.
Still, it was big. And he doubted he could have gotten in there uninvited.
Or out.
Out was more of a problem right now.
The wagon trail rolled right through a town that encircled the place. Wood and stone houses like the castle. Taller walls than the bandits had hid behind protected the town from the outside and the castle from the town.
Most of the wagons with soldiers stopped in the town. Only the carriages and a single wagon of armed men made it to the castle.
The king was opening the door before the carriage came to a complete stop. "Bring our guests to the main hall. We have business to discuss."
The sun was already gone, but light hung on.
Tom had no idea how long it would take them to get back on foot, or how long this little jaunt had added to the already considerable distance they needed to travel.
His compass didn't tell him anything the sky hadn't already, but he didn't dare dig out his maps. They'd taken enough of his stuff.
A guard standing in the door cleared his throat.
Tom put his compass away. "Unless you cough up a key, we're staying right here."
The guard held up a ring of keys.
Hmm... just the one guard. They could take one, even unarmed. Once he was free of this stupid carriage and its magic knick knacks, he could do enough damage to get them some weapons, then they'd be home free...
The guard opened the lock that held them to the carriage and yanked on the chain.
They almost fell out of the carriage, but managed to regain their balan
ce. Tom stared daggers at the stupid guard.
Unfortunately there were several other guards milling around. Plenty to escort them.
It didn't help that Max seemed perfectly content to go along with this nonsense.
Terrible rogue.
Just terrible.
Though he did seem... observant. His eyes bounced around, taking things in. He signed, "crow skulls?" A wave of the hand made it a question.
Weird language, but useful.
Not that Tom had a clue what he was going on about.
The guards formed up around them and lead them inside without a word. Surly bunch, really.
Now that he mentioned it... about a third of them were wearing crow skulls from leather cords like necklaces. Creepy.
The main hall wasn't hard to find. It was more or less just inside the large doors. The pair of them were escorted to a table near a pair of large chairs at the far end.
Food was brought out by the first people Tom had seen around here not dressed like soldiers. Seemed like metal and blue were trendy this season.
Eating was a hassle with the restraints, but if he held out much longer he'd have to deal with starvation penalties.
He begrudgingly admitted it was pretty good.
They brought mead as well. It was better than good.
Max pushed his cup as far away as he could with his hands tied.
Over the next hour or so people came and went, wandering through the hall both on their way into rooms deeper inside, and on their way out of the castle. Castle-like thing.
Tom nursed his cup of mead.
He didn't need another morning like the last time.
It was almost an hour after that when Brynjar showed up. Einar and a young woman with dark hair and clothes followed him.
He'd advised getting a new queen, sure, but that was kind of fast. Hopefully he'd gotten a prenup.
Brynjar and Einar sat in the two chairs. The lady stood between and behind. Just an adviser then? Still, he should put a ring on it. Kid number one was a failure.
The king bowed his head slightly. "My friends..."
Tom made a point of fixing his hair. It put the restraints on display.
Friends indeed.
"A glorious victory is ours this day." The king lifted a cup. "Cheers."
The failure child and the young woman raised their own cups. "Cheers."
Max lifted his, but he didn't drink.
Tom wasn't feeling the friendship right now. These people had insulted him plenty. He left his cup where it was.
Brynjar emptied his. "So many reservations, but in the end, it worked. It really did. We acted, and we won." His eyes fell on Tom and Max. "With a bit of help. And with your help we'll take back the rest of our lands, too."
Max set his cup down. "Wait, what?"
Tom nodded vigorously. "I didn't agree to jack crap."
The king ignored them. He did that a lot. "We can't afford to take this action again. However successful, it was foolhardy to leave our homes nearly defenseless. Mobilizing in numbers was risky. Unfortunately, while we were able to recover Einar, there are still several other strategic locations we have lost to bandits and foreign control. These 'followers of Mehtan' have grown bold of late. But with you at our side, we will recover our lost holdings."
Tom scoffed. "The hell are two of us going to do?"
"The two of you retook one fort already."
Max shook his head. "Technically, but there was no way we could hold it, which is why we didn't bother. We had no chance against twenty men."
"That is why I will be providing a force of thirty of my best. They will follow your lead, help you retake each location, then hold it until reinforcements can be mobilized to relieve them."
Max leaned on the table, his restraints clanking. "And making sure we don't run off."
The king smiled. "If you do as I ask, with your ingenuity you'll have a force powerful enough to retake any of these positions. If you don't, they'll bring you back here in chains... assuming you survive capture."
Tom scoffed. "Bullshit like this must be why it took you so long to find another wife."
Brynjar narrowed his eyes at Tom. "No need to answer now, gentlemen. I'll give you until morning to think it over." He clapped.
Guards approached the table. They didn't have weapons drawn but they didn't need them. The chains made it simple to lead Tom and Max around.
There might have only been a few stories up, but it seemed like there were more than a few down, too. They followed a square set of stairs down deep enough that water was condensing on the walls.
Down here it was stone. Practically carved out of it. Maybe there was something to this place.
Despite all the king's talk of friendship and camaraderie and whatnot, they weren't lead to a cushy room, but into a stone cell with iron bars. Not so much as a window... though it would probably act more like a drain pipe this far underground.
Ten guards filed in with them. They were unchained from each other, lead to opposite sides of the room, and chained to the walls with a few feet to play with. The straw beds with rough wool blankets didn't exactly look inviting.
The guards filed out again. Two stopped just outside the door.
Tom looked around. Surely there was something they could do.
Max was already seated on his straw pile.
Tom pointed at him and signed, "Is this a quest? Kind of aggressive."
Max nodded, his hands moving. "Guess they are not taking 'decline' for an answer anymore."
"How's that lock coming?" Tom's fingers danced. He seemed better at this than a guy that had it as a class feature.
Pathetic.
"Still no picks." Max replied with clumsily twisting fingers.
Tom grabbed the chain attached to the wall with both hands and yanked as hard as he could. It rattled, but nothing budged.
The guards outside didn't even bother to look.
Insulting.
He was trying to escape, damn it. No professionalism at all.
Max tugged his hood up and rearranged his scarf.
It was a little chilly down here. Tom pulled his cloak tighter.
Perhaps not the most dire situation they had ever been in... but it was pretty close.
At least they could talk.
"Plan?" Tom asked with a gesture.
"Wait for morning." Max signed with a shrug. "Agree to help. See what happens."
Tom sighed as he fell over onto his straw bed.
13
Max turned the lock over in his hands. It might as well be a rock without a key or picks. Of course, he didn't have any skill invested in picking locks, so... kinda pointless either way.
Yet getting out somehow still felt like his responsibility, so he kept on turning the lock and prodding it with his thumbs.
He was still looking it over when a new pair of guards approached those outside.
"Shift change." Both of the new guards sported crow skulls pendants.
The two guards on duty didn't say a word before wandering out the way the others had come. The new set took up their positions, looking away as the previous set had.
Strange... but not really much of a development.
He checked the system clock.
10:07 P.M.
He'd been messing with the lock for two hours now. A new set of guards was the most novel thing to happen.
At least, until the other two guards showed up. They wore similar outfits, but they were clearly women. Novel, so far. They also both had crow skull necklaces. Must get them in bulk. Sad for the crows.
The women didn't even speak to the guards as they approached. The door was opened before they even got to it.
Tom sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
Max was surprised the cleric had actually fallen asleep. A cooler customer than he.
The women guards stopped in front of Max. "Get up."
He tilted his head as he looked up at them. "I don't have a window, but I don't t
hink it's morning just yet."
One of the women guards knelt down. She had red hair sticking out from under her helmet and held up a key ring. "Your presence has been requested. We are authorized to drag you, if needs be. I would prefer not to. You look heavy."
Tom yawned. "Impatient, huh? What's he want to talk to us about now? If it's lodgings, I'm game. I have some complaints. Pillow mint? Missing entirely."
The other lady guard, this one with blonde hair, cast an annoyed glance across the cell. "Not you. You're staying here."
Max stood. It still felt like his responsibility to get them out... and this might be a way. Alone he could vanish, move about unseen. It would at least give him a chance...
He tried to relay as much to Tom, but it was tricky with people in the way.
The redhead guard unlocked Max from the wall, holding the chain like a dog leash. She hadn't understood the hand signals, had she? Ugh.
Max knelt down and grabbed the blanket from his pile of straw. He tossed it across to Tom. "In case they kill me."
Tom gave a nod. "I wouldn't advise it. So far I'm only annoyed, but I don't think I need to remind anyone that I've got friends in high places."
The woman holding Max's leash pulled on the chain. He had to move to avoid falling.
One woman walked ahead, the other behind. The two guards at the cell door stood dutifully, as if none of this was even happening. The door was shut and locked tight again behind him.
Max glanced back.
Tom was fiddling with his own lock. He was gnawing on it when Max lost sight of him.
Max was lead back up the stairs, and up more stairs besides. If this kept up he would have amazing calves.
They ended up on the top floor, near as he could tell. The stairs ended there, anyway. They turned left at the top of the stairs and wandered down wide hallways lined with tapestries.
He could probably find his was back to the cells, enough of this place was unique to serve as landmarks.