by Wade Adrian
The guards opened a large set of doors and pulled him inside.
The room was finely furnished. Everything large and comfy looking. And dark blue. Seemed to be a thing.
A fireplace set in one wall provided plenty of heat for the whole chamber. A set of doors on the far end showed a balcony with only darkness beyond.
Perfect.
He just needed to get loose and out he would go...
The guards sat him in a chair at a long table, dumped the chain on top of it, and then walked back outside, shutting the doors behind them.
A lock clicked and clacked.
Max's eyes cut around the room. It seemed empty, and they hadn't chained him to anything, it would be simple enough to...
It was a test. It had to be.
They were playing him for a fool.
Nope.
He leaned back in the chair, planting his feet on the table beside the chain.
Warmer and comfier than the cell, at any rate.
There was a bottle of mead and a pair of cups waiting. He let them go wanting. His tolerance sucked and he didn't need to impair himself at a time like this.
A few minutes later the doors to the balcony opened, the young dark haired woman who had been standing with King Brynjar and Einar let herself in and shut them again.
"I must admit, I expected you to join me on the balcony."
Max shrugged. "What would be the point of that?"
"Not much. It overlooks a lake, and more than enough of a fall to kill. It is quite lovely, though. A full moon tonight." She stood behind one of the chairs at the table. "Honestly I hoped to dissuade you from attempting to escape. There's no way out but the door you entered, and my retainers are seeing to that. A word from me and you're back in your cell. A scream from me, and you'll find yourself in a grave."
There wasn't much about her that was really... threatening. It was cute to watch her try, though.
She was pretty. Her dark hair and eyes stood out amongst all the lighter tones around here.
"So you can't be seen in the dungeons, hmm? Easier to talk to us there."
She scoffed slightly. "You're not wrong, but that's only part of it. Your companion worships the nameless. Hardly worthy of speaking to."
Well that was rude.
But fair. Tom could be an overbearing jerk... on his good days.
By all accounts his god was worse.
She leaned against the table rather than pulling out a chair, before pouring herself a cup of mead. "You're different, though. I heard the tale of Einar's rescue."
"Is that what he calls it?"
She took a sip. "And I observed you speaking with my father. You were not... impolite and you saw through him like a glass. Your companion was less than cordial."
If what Tom and Yar said was true, NPCs were getting smarter, acting more like people... yet they still seemed inclined to seek out players to help them. He wondered if that was something of an instinct to them, or if they would outgrow it...
The young woman was staring at him. "Is it so surprising that Brynjar is my father?"
"Kind of. He only talked about Einar."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Yes, the golden child." She pulled out the chair closest to Max and sat, holding her cup with both hands. "He wasn't kidnapped, you know. You had the right of it. He joined those bandits willingly."
She had a number of years on the wiry kid. Well into her twenties. Einar was, well, a wiry kid. Late teens, tops.
They didn't look much alike either.
"Ran off to join the circus, huh?"
She nodded. "Father wouldn't believe it. He convinced himself it was a kidnapping and arranged a ransom and two couriers to carry it. They came back in a tiny box."
Max frowned. Place was a powder keg. "Why did Einar run off?"
She raised her eyes to his, staring for a few moments. She seemed to find whatever she was looking for in them. "He is afraid. Fear is all the boy has ever felt, but this time? Fear of his future. Of his responsibilities. He's a coward that would rather run off than face ruling some day, and yet I am unfit because I was born the wrong gender." She scoffed.
It was a long quiet moment. Max hadn't really gotten much of a read on the kid while he was tackling him to the frozen earth. She probably knew him better.
The woman emptied her cup and poured another.
Einar had been pretty pissed at Tom, but that was common enough, and it wasn't like the King had had a hard time restraining him. Probably all for show.
The woman let out a sigh. "I was in line anyway, father silencing critics, right up until Einar was born. Mother was... displeased."
Probably a touchy subject, but he wasn't the one bringing it up. "Einar's mother didn't like him either?"
Her eyes met his, then turned away for a few moments, as though listening, before returning. "We do not share a mother, Einar and I. My mother... departed. My father remarried. Einar was born."
"He said his wife was dead."
The girl nodded. "Einar's mother is dead. As I said, mother was... displeased."
Suddenly Max had an inkling of why he was here. This wasn't a discussion a paladin would ever be invited to.
An assassin, though?
Front of the line.
He didn't much care for the subject.
And yet... what choice did he have? No way out, still locked up.
He missed being a paladin. Talking to nice nobles...
The bottle was starting to look inviting after all.
A gentle hand touched the side of his face.
The young woman pointed him to look at her. "I assure you, what I ask is for the best."
"Oh, I'm sure."
"And you will be well compensated."
He was insulted just to hear the damned words. "Heh." The half laugh escaped before he could help himself.
She frowned. "My father intends to send Einar with you. Your glory will be his in the eyes of the people, just as his escape was officially not your doing, but apparently born of his own ingenuity. Glory won to cloud minds that already know the truth."
"Seems like a lot of covering for a kid that's going to rabbit again at the first chance."
"Indeed." She nodded. "That's where you come in. I would see my father's mission done, our home made safe and secure... and Einar not return."
"I doubt your father will be pleased."
She scoffed. "Falling in battle, in the defense of his home no less, is the greatest honor Einar can ever hope to achieve. At least, he would think so if he was actually worthy to sit on my mother's throne."
Lot of tension in this family.
"In exchange, I'll return the ransom my father relieved you of. Yours for the taking. A small fortune. You and your companion can walk away with no strings attached."
"I just keep seeing your father not being pleased."
She took another drink before nodding slightly, reaching into a pocket and producing a key. "I will speak with him. But, if needs be..." she shrugged, "your reward can be increased."
Well.
That was stone cold.
Maybe she could be threatening when she wanted.
She unlocked the restraints at his wrists, carefully removed them, and tossed them to the far side of the table. "Father is not the man he once was. He has spent far too much of himself trying to make something of Einar the boy can simply never be. I fear I must look to the safety and betterment of my people in his stead, distasteful as it is."
She picked up his hands, holding them in hers.
He must not have noticed how cold the restraints were, because she felt warm, almost feverish by comparison.
It only just occurred to him she had been moving closer and closer the entire time. Like she was... afraid? No. Well, maybe at first. But not now. There wasn't any fear in it. Like she was... shy? Unsure of herself?
She'd downed more than a bit of mead, too. He caught hints of it when she spoke. Maybe she didn't care much for this topic
either.
The girl leaned in close, a smile playing over her lips. "Mother says you will help us."
Well this was getting weird. He leaned back, his eyes turning about the room. Not many places to hide. "She does, huh?"
The girl's smile widened, leaning so far forward she was half on the table. She pulled on a cord that hung around her neck, a crow skull appearing out of her dark blouse. "How Einar's mother could ever compare, I'll never know." She shrugged. "I am Tovi, daughter of Corvi."
She was bordering on uncomfortably close. "Afraid that name doesn't ring any bells."
"No. You are from far away, after all. Perhaps that is what makes you so... interesting." She was on the table now, only her feet in the chair. "She is the lord of ravens, whispers, secrets. She hid here at court, wooed my father and became his first queen, only to grow weary of it. And she, like me," Tovi held out a finger and gently tapped him on the end of his nose, "finds you very interesting."
Oh.
Good.
More crazy god nonsense.
"There's something... noble about you. Something I didn't think to find in such a man. I like it. I feel... safe here when I thought I would spend this evening fearing for my life."
"Must be the mead."
Tovi shook her head and tugged at his scarf until she pulled it free.
A locked door, a balcony to nowhere, armed guards outside just waiting for the word to storm in and stab him, and a crazy young woman in here talking to her goddess mother via a crow skull.
He didn't feel all that safe.
All of this was nuts.
He really missed being a paladin.
Tovi leaned in close enough to kiss the tip of his nose. "Mmm. A scream from me could be bad at the moment. I suppose we'll just have to be... gentle."
Sure, she was attractive, but aside from the crazy she was trying to hire him to do a job. Professionalism was to be considered.
But apparently not by her.
Thoughts of Rhonda filled his mind. She was still out there, hopefully doing better than him. He needed to get free to find her, and he needed that freedom to come without him being stuffed in a coffin.
Well... this girl wasn't real. Getting out was all that mattered.
"Seems like I don't have a say in this."
Tovi was straight up seated on the table in front of his chair now, a small frown appearing on her face. "What? Of course you have a say. I'm not a monster." She pulled her blouse off over her head, her dark hair spilling back down. She was still wearing the creepy crow skull. "Top or bottom?"
Tom sniffled a few times. Stupid cold damp dungeon. Inhumane place to keep prisoners, really.
He was sure to catch a cold.
Wait, could he get colds in here? Certainly didn't use to be the case, but he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
He lay on his side on his bed of straw. His blanket was under him to keep the itching to a minimum, while his borrowed blanket was on top.
He was wearing all his clothes and cloak, too.
Still cold.
The guards outside were seated now. Unprofessional. They should be required to stand at all times. He wasn't comfortable, so why should they be?
"Aha!"
He groaned softly and pulled the blanket over his head.
"Too late, acolyte! I found you. This is a fun game. Shall I hide, now?"
When he uncovered his head again he found who he expected... sort of. A young woman pushing twenty or so was sitting cross legged on the cold stone floor, thinking nothing of it.
Yar's hair was a mess, sticking this way and that like she'd been caught in a typhoon.
And... one of her eyes had lost its color.
He glanced at the guards. They couldn't see her, of course. No one else could.
"Are you okay?" He whispered. "You look... different."
She looked down at herself, then up, and around. "I do?"
Still acted like an annoying child.
Not that different.
"Don't suppose you brought me a lockpick?"
"No." She shook her shaggy head. Her eyes shot around the room. "An odd place to sleep. Safe, after a fashion. I like the bars." She noticed the guards. "Hmm."
"Can you get me out of here?"
"Nope." Yar rocked back and forth, holding onto her knees with her hands. "If I could interact with the world like that I wouldn't need an acolyte, acolyte. I must grow much stronger first."
He sighed. "Well, at the moment I can't help you much. Get back to me tomorrow."
She shrugged. "I don't need anything. I was worried. You are far from where I left you."
"Not by choice." He spared the guards another glance. They might have been sleeping... "Why is your name illegal?"
She laughed. "That's silly."
"That's why I'm in a cell. Sort of. Officially, I guess."
Yar seemed... sad for a moment. "You'd think after so long they would forgive... or at least forget." Her face faded to neutrality, then her eyes grew wide like a kid looking at a distant pony. "I have seen such things, acolyte. Since you removed my chains, I have walked far and learned so much."
He frowned at the mention of chains. "Hey, can you see Max? Is he alright?"
"Max?"
He sighed. "Talren. My friend. The... useful tool."
She turned her head, looking around the room as if he should be there, then she squinted her eyes and swept them around and up, back and forth... "Oh." She blinked a few times, then tilted her head to the side. "He seems... fine. That doesn't look comfortable though."
Tom let out a sigh of relief. "As long as he's okay."
She nodded, seemingly keeping tabs on him.
Tom did not want to be stuck in here alone. "Did he get free?"
"Free?"
"Away from the guards."
"Umm. No?"
He needed to stop asking specific questions she didn't understand how to answer.
Tom let out a sigh as he laid back, staring up at the ceiling. "If I left tomorrow, on foot, how many days would I need to walk to find other people like me?"
Yar held up a hand, pointing at the ceiling.
"Other than Max."
She turned a bit, not bothering to stand, just shimmying around while still seated. She held a hand up to shade her eyes from the darkness. "Fifty six days. I think. Wait, you have to follow roads, right? At least a hundred then. Much more winding."
"Damn." He stared at the uncaring stone overhead. They would have to steal horses or... something.
"I've heard of a shorter way, but I haven't seen it myself. I don't think. I might have. Would you like me to check?"
He blinked at the girl.
Odd as she might be... he was grateful. "That would be nice, yes."
She nodded. "Kay."
When next he blinked she was gone.
He stared at the ceiling once more.
Somehow this game just wasn't as much fun as it used to be...
He opened his friends list. Max wasn't on it. Probably something to remedy just in case they ever got separated again.
Giana was, though. It listed her as online, but "away." Computer speak for someone who hasn't moved in awhile. She was probably asleep.
Well... Yar wasn't wrong. He was about as safe here as he could be. The guards that kept him in also kept everyone else out.
He tried to get comfortable again. Tomorrow was almost guaranteed to suck.
14
Tom awoke to the sound of the cell door opening.
He lay still and waited.
Max's straw pile was still empty. Maybe he'd gotten away. This could be his chance...
He could see polished boots and a dark blue cloak approaching from where he lay, but not much more. There were no other guards outside the cell anymore.
The guard knelt down, a key twisting in the lock that kept Tom pinned to the wall.
As soon as the lock came loose Tom swept his balled fist up, catching the guard on the chin.
The man recoiled and fell back onto the stones.
Tom stood as quick as he could, grabbing the chain. His hands were still bound, but he could swing it if he had to. Maybe choke them out or something.
"Well good morning to you, too." Max sat on the floor, rubbing at his chin. He was dressed in a dark blue getup.
Tom tilted his head. "You stole a uniform?" He nodded a few times. "Smart. Lets get out of here."
Max shook his head as he stood and grabbed Tom's restraints. "It's not that simple."
And yet... he had the key. It even worked.
His hands moved, in so close Tom could barely read them.
"We are watched. Follow. Talk little."
Him and his terrible accent.
Max tossed the restraints aside. "Got breakfast and a bath waiting. You'll get your own uniform. This is, after all, an official endeavor."
"Can I get different boots? Those are tacky." Tom rubbed at his wrists.
"Not very comfortable either." Max waved for Tom to follow as he wandered out of the cell.
Tom tried not to look like he was watching for eyes... but he was. And he found more than a few. Guards stationed at doors they had been ignoring on the way in, servants dusting things that were clean, kitchen staff walking back and forth with the same food.
They no doubt thought themselves quite clever... or that he was an idiot. Or both. Both sounded more like these jerks.
Max lead him down a hallway into a room with a pool of water in the middle of the floor and cupboards lining the walls. A few benches had clothes waiting.
He locked the door behind them, then swept his hands about. "No eyes here. Probably still ears." He nodded to the pool and spoke out loud. "Hot spring. It's nice. Afterward put these on." He waved at the clothes, then sat on the bench, watching the door.
Not exactly trusting.
Good. He was learning.
While Tom was getting rid of his old clothes he noticed the system clock.
6:32 A.M.
"Bit early, isn't it?"
"I didn't want to leave you in there any longer than necessary."
"I mean... I could have slept a little more." Tom sat in the hot spring. It was nice... certainly a lot warmer than his cell.
"You and me both."
"Yeah, what happened to you?"
Max shrugged. "Some... logistical talk. Didn't get much sleep."