“So, what do you plan to do with this sword if it’s there?” she said as she watched the others laugh at something Finn had said.
It didn’t seem fathomable that there was some magic sword ready to be stolen at any moment. The lord didn’t think much of it either, if what Rafe said was true. It was just a plain old sword that lost its owner in a previous battle. Rafe was making a big thing out of nothing.
“I plan to make my fortune. Live as a king and leave the crew.” He took a swig from his flask.
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to leave?”
“Aye. I’ve been at this for too long. I want my retirement now so you young pups can make your own way.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Although, you could always be a dragon hunter and be famous for killing the last of them. I’m sure there’s one still hanging around. Imagine the coin you’d make then.” They chuckled as Rafe smacked her shoulder.
“That would be one way, but I ain’t no hunter. I’ll leave such a thing to the buyer.”
Serra bid the others good night when they started playing a few rounds of a game of cards. Finn said he would join her after he got the details of where to meet them later in the week from Benedict, but she knew it was so he could gamble more. Finn had a knack for cards and often caused riots in taverns when he would win one too many games. It was how he made most of their coin between jobs.
One time, he managed to wipe out the entire table. With their newfound empty pockets and drunken rage, they threw him out the front door right into a pigpen. When he returned to the inn they were staying at, he smelled terrible but had the biggest grin on his face. Serra smiled at the memory.
As she left the tavern, she took a deep breath of the cool night air. It was only at this time of night when she felt she got any sense of peace and quiet. While she enjoyed having Finn around, sometimes she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She decided to take the long route back to the Square Serpent by cutting through the market district.
An eerie chill slid itself against her spine, making her shiver as she walked through the empty stalls and closed stores. She’d been so used to seeing it crowded with people, she mindlessly touched her dagger in case it meant danger. Thieves would gladly prey on a young girl all by herself and take everything she owned. They would be in for a nice surprise if they attempted it.
Only a small handful of guards holding torches walked around the market. They watched her as she walked through but didn’t stop to ask her where she was going. She was surprised that they didn’t immediately assume she was trouble, considering the blade on her belt. They were just as adamant to not deal with questions.
Most of the merchants had packed up and left for the night, but there was always one available during the night for the drunks to buy out his remaining inventory. Serra paid the man and received a small sack of apples for her and Finn to have later. It was both to have something to eat and to keep the guards from questioning her in case they changed their minds.
She passed the bakery. The lingering scent of fresh baked bread was pleasant as she sniffed. Feeling hungry, she went to get one of the apples when she heard a noise.
In the darkness, someone was digging through the trash on the far side of the bakery. She couldn’t make out his features, but she carefully approached him anyway.
“Are you hungry?” she said softly. The man jumped back and fell on his arse when he heard her voice. His white hair was pulled back into a long braid. Serra took in a sharp breath when she noticed his ears.
He was an elf. A slave. He bore the mark on his forehead.
She untied the sack of apples on her belt and offered them to him. His eyes went back and forth between her and the sack. He didn’t seem to realize she was offering him food out of kindness. Unsure of what else to do, she offered her hand to him and helped him stand. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to give you some food.”
He narrowed his eyes, staring at her hand for a long moment before he took it. “And why would you, a human, offer such a thing to a slave?”
She didn’t respond right away. She didn’t know why, other than she felt pity for him, having known what it was like to starve. His shirt was loose, making him look thin. “You looked hungry.”
She once again offered him the apples. He carefully reached out to take them, as if they would catch fire the moment he touched them. He then checked inside the sack, expecting to be swindled by her and finding rocks instead of apples. His mouth parted slightly when he looked back at her.
“I just bought them over there.” She gestured over her shoulder. “They aren’t the best, but it’s better than nothing. I hope they help.”
As she walked around him, she felt a shaky hand touch her arm. “Wait,” the elf said. She faced him, saying nothing. He pulled back his hand as quickly as it came. “Thank you. I didn’t expect to find kindness when my master brought me here from Osthollow.”
“And where is that?”
The elf’s face turned grim as he looked at the ground. “Far away from here.”
Serra nodded, understanding it wasn’t something he would elaborate on. “You’re welcome. What is your name, may I ask?”
He pulled out an apple to inspect it, as if he wasn’t sure if it were real, and then bit into it. After a moment, he said, “Theren.”
Serra offered him a kind smile. “My name is Serra. I hope we can meet again.” She glanced at the trash he had been previously digging through. “On better circumstances.”
“Unlikely, but thank you. I hope to see you again as well. You are…” He paused as if trying to find the correct word. “Very kind.” He lowered his head then ran off.
Rafe wasn’t lying when he said the job would be payback for some lord refusing to give Grom the payment. His name was Lord Iren, a businessman involved in the production of wine. He never had a lack of coin to pay Grom back. He just got greedy.
Grom had been insistent on taking everything of value in the cove. He claimed it was “payment with interest.” Finn humbly agreed with him and encouraged Serra to take whatever she could, but to keep it simple. Nothing too distinguishable that could be traced.
If they decided to go against Grom’s wishes, they would need to either sell the valuables immediately or keep them in a very secure place. The last thing Grom wanted was to be involved if his crew did something stupid. But the only true demand Grom had was that the statue he wanted would be his. She was sure Benedict would see to that, though she didn’t understand why such a thing would hold so much importance. He failed to explain why, but it was the only thing he wanted.
None of the crew argued against it.
They took a small boat toward a stone building on an isolated island behind Lord Iren’s home. Benedict had to shush the men several times over their rambling of what they planned to do with the money. One of them earned a smack across the back of his head when he failed to follow orders.
As they made their approach, there was no sign of Lord Iren’s guards. This was concerning. If this lord truly had a treasure trove, he would’ve spent a lot of time and coin protecting it.
They came upon a wooden dock where Rafe tied up the boat. The others hopped onto the dock but, as Serra followed them, Rafe grabbed her arm, stopping her mid-step. “Remember what I said about the sword? I know it’s here. Keep an eye out for it?”
She gave him a single nod but said nothing. When she’d told Finn about Rafe’s claims, he dismissed them entirely, stating Rafe was imagining it. So, she decided that if he was right, there was nothing to worry about. But if Rafe was right…
He would become rich indeed.
The crew moved swiftly as they followed the stone wall toward the entrance. There was still no sign of any posted guards, which caused Benedict to slow his movements. He stopped and scanned the area for anything unusual, a hard expression on his face. The others were getting jittery as their fiery expectation for the treasure grew. After a long moment, he continued.
/>
Where are they?
Serra shared his concern. A knot formed in her stomach as she looked over her shoulder at Finn. Unlike the others, he wasn’t ready to jump for joy. Instead, he was serious. Worried.
They came upon a barred wooden door with a thick chain and a heavy lock curled around it. Rafe moved up from the middle of the line to pick the lock with his tools. The rest of them kept watch while he worked.
When the lock came undone, they each shuffled inside one by one. The room was empty save for some barrels of wine, some hay, and sacks filled with spices and flour. To any other person, it would’ve appeared to be nothing but a storage room.
But that wasn’t the case.
They moved three red barrels to the side, revealing a conspicuous-looking blanket. Benedict pulled it away, exposing a trap door with a handle. There was a basement to this storage room. Benedict climbed down the ladder first to scout ahead. He returned moments later and waved his arm for them to follow. Serra climbed down next.
Pulling out a torch from her bag, she struck the firestarter to ignite it. The flame flickered against Benedict’s face. Behind him, she saw the reward they were looking for.
The treasure wasn’t as much as she thought it would be. There were only a handful of small chests filled with gold and the statue Grom wanted was on a shelf above the center chest. Benedict went straight for it and packed it into his sack before the others grew too greedy to remember Grom’s warning. Rafe disappeared from sight down another hallway before the others went straight for the gold, filling their pockets to the rim. Hungry expressions covered their faces.
Finn filled several small bags before the large one. He gestured for her to come over and help him. Serra had never seen so much gold before at once. She smiled to herself as she pictured all the things she and Finn could do with it. It wouldn’t be enough for them to live like kings, but it would be a start if they saved it. Between this and what they made with Grom, they would be set in a matter of a few years, compared to the decades they assumed they would need to work.
She hoped more lords would cheat Grom out of a payday. It turned out to be very profitable for her and Finn.
They packed up everything they could, leaving the mostly-empty chests behind; the additional weight would only make them move slower. The crew was to be in and out in a matter of minutes, as per Grom’s orders. He wanted to catch Lord Iren’s men off guard and give them an embarrassing report to send to their boss. In the shadows from the torchlight, Serra could barely see Benedict’s face, but she saw his body tense. He hurried them along.
Rafe approached Serra, showing her the hilt of the sheathed sword under his coat. A broad smile spread across his cheeks as her eyes widened. He had found what he was looking for. But from the look of the hilt, the sword looked like any other. She wondered why Rafe had become overexcited over a normal sword.
“Is that—” Rafe covered her mouth with his hand and shushed her. He nodded and covered the hilt once more under his coat. He’d found it… or at least thought he did. It could easily just be a plain steel sword.
She understood and followed Rafe to the others toward the ladder. Rafe went ahead of the others, only to stop short when he looked up.
A scream filled the tunnel as the sound of crashing rocks blocked out the light. The roof hid piles of rock with wooden planks keeping them in place. Something had removed the supports, causing the rocks to fall. The torchlight was extinguished when she jumped out of the way, leaving all of them in blackness.
Serra scanned the floor with her hands to find the torch she had been holding earlier. After a few moments, she found it and used her firestarter to strike a light. The entrance was completely caved in. Groans came from all around her.
Serra rushed over to the crew and discovered that Rafe’s leg had been crushed by a large rock. A small knife was lodged in his chest. Someone was here, and they had triggered the cave-in.
They were trapped.
“Is everyone all right?” she called out.
“Broken arm, but I can move,” said Benedict.
“I’m here,” said Martin, groaning as Finn helped him stand.
“What about Rafe?” said Finn.
Serra tried to move the rocks off his leg but stopped when she saw the ones above it threatened to fall on top of him. His blood was everywhere, staining his pants and shirt. The knife embedded in his chest was close to his heart but two inches too high to do serious damage. There was a chance she could remove it safely.
As she attempted to pull it out, Rafe screamed, “Don’t!” He took deep breaths and coughed up blood, covering her hands when she steadied him. “You need to leave. There’s another entrance down that corridor. It’s the only way. Leave me behind.”
“We aren’t leaving you here to die!” she snapped, gripping his shirt tighter.
“Martin, check it out,” Benedict ordered. Martin lit another torch with Serra’s fire and marched his way toward the corridor Rafe spoke of.
Finn touched her shoulder. “Serra, we have to. We can’t carry him out of here, and those rocks will crush the rest of us if we try to move them. Plus, I guarantee that whoever did this is expecting us to do that. They’ll be ready to kill us the moment he sees one of our heads. And even if he isn’t waiting, he will bring reinforcements. We have no other choice.”
She shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. “No.”
“It’s all right, girl. I knew the chances I would need to take when I took this job. Go on.” Rafe gripped her hand as the others followed Martin to the corridor’s entrance.
He reached to his side and pulled the sword out from under the rocks, handing it to her. “Take this. You will get a hefty price for it or you could use it. That little thing you call a dagger is a disgrace. This will be much better.”
Serra hesitantly took the sword, her hands trembling as she felt its weight. “If the stories are right, that’s a powerful sword. I suggest you keep it.” Words failed to reach her throat. She had no voice. No way to tell him she was sorry. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.
He was dead.
Her breath stilled in her chest as she stared at his lifeless corpse. Just last night, he was making jokes, smiling as he saw her laugh. He’d shared his ale with her as they snacked on jerky. Now… he was dead. Gone. She moved away from his body, dropping the sword as tears fell down her cheeks.
She heard Finn call out to her, telling her to move her arse.
Wiping her wet cheeks, she grabbed the torch and Rafe’s sword, holding it close to her chest. There was nothing she could do for Rafe now. The best she could do for him was to get herself and the others out of here. As she left his body behind, she made a promise to his spirit that she would keep the sword, now covered in his blood.
Water seeped through Serra’s throat, causing her to gag and forcibly spit it out. She struggled to swim despite the weight of the sword tied to her belt and Finn grabbing onto her shoulders.
The blood washed from her hands. Rafe’s blood. The thought of him made her want to start crying again, but she knew she had to focus. The others needed her to be strong if they were ever to make out of this alive.
The whole job was a disaster—a complete failure. The loss of a crew member, getting trapped in the hidden room, and now they were losing what gold they could take. The weight of the treasure was too much for most of them to swim with so they were forced to leave most of it behind. Several grumbles and curses filled the air among them. It was better to lose gold than drown.
What she wanted to know was how Lord Iren’s men found out about the job. That trap was set too perfectly—too precise to have been an accident. Someone triggered it and threw a knife into Rafe’s chest. The only logical explanation was there must’ve been a tip off. Someone in Grom’s crew had ratted them out. But she failed to see a reason for it. This was a job that benefitted everyone involved. Grom only wanted the stupid statue. Everything else was fair game. It made no sense.
>
She hoped it wasn’t Rafe.
Moreover, they were lucky to find an alternative route out of the cave under the building. It was thanks to Rafe that they had found it as quickly as they did. The way out forced them to move a bunch of rocks within the empty room. Water leaked through the loose cracks as they discovered water a level beneath them that traveled outside of the building.
It led to a flooded dock, long abandoned and destroyed years ago by the rising of the water levels. Only moldy wood remained.
Now they were in the water, hoping to find a way to escape.
Their own boat was nowhere to be seen. Lord Iren’s men probably sank it, but they had to have come here on boat as well. They would take advantage of that.
Finn slid, making him grab onto Serra’s vest and pulling it back. She gagged, trying to keep quiet. “Sorry,” he whispered as she helped him readjust.
I need to teach him how to swim better. Finn could paddle his arms like a dog, but he lost stamina quickly. It was usually safer for him to ride on her back rather than on his own.
Serra caught up to the others who had untied the ropes from the dock and were now getting ready to leave.
“How could this happen?” Grom muttered as he knocked over the statue on his desk. He slammed his fist, making Serra jump slightly at the sound. “How could this happen! Who betrayed us? Who tipped off Lord Iren about this? When I find out who did this, they are as good as dead!”
Serra stood next to the others. The survivors. Benedict had just finished his report to Grom about what had happened about an hour ago. Water was still dripping from their wet clothes.
They returned with the statue, but little else. As punishment for their failure and the possible rat, Grom demanded to retain all the remaining loot they had managed to carry with them, Rafe’s sword included. Benedict had practically ripped it off her belt when she hesitated to give it to him.
Rise of the Champion (The Champion Book 1) Page 4