The World Of Khoras - Tales - To Find A King
Escape
Hogarth sat unmoving, staring out of the dungeon cell. He'd been quiet ever since the guards came and took Jerrik away. The others were quiet as well, each lost in the landscapes of their own minds - dwelling on dark thoughts, on what each apparently faced. Hogarth absently fingered a hole worn in the bowl of gruel at his feet. It's rough edge cut his finger. He didn't notice. His mind was on the bright blue stone in the far wall that shone constantly like an unblinking eye peering into the depths of his soul.
Quietly Hogarth stood up and walked to the back of the cell. He ran his fingers along the opening that had been bricked up. He gripped the edge of one of the rough reddish bricks and pulled on it experimentally. He found it moved a fraction of an inch. He began to pulling it back and forth trying to wiggle the brick free. The mortar crumbled a bit before a large chunk of the stone broke free.
"Give it up, Garth," said Fenric, rolling over and trying to get comfortable. "Even if you could rip all those red bricks free, we'd never be able to squeeze out that archer's slot. It's too narrow."
"I wasn't planning on squeezing a person through this opening," said Garth, ripping another brick free with a grunt.
"What are you doing then?"
Hogarth starred around the cell for a moment and then at the rock in his hand. He hefted it, testing its weight.
"I think I know a way out."
The others about the cell who had been half listening raised their heads and looked questioningly at him.
"I have a plan," said Hogarth. "But we surely risk a brutal beating for even trying it, if we fail."
"Anything worth having is worth risk." said Valdemar quietly.
"And it beats sitting around here waiting to be marched off to torture and death," agreed Ganz. "Let's hear your plan."
"If it weren't for that crystal in the wall there, our sorcerer could magic us out of here. Is that not true, Val?"
"Aye, if it were not for that accursed crystal, I would."
"Well then, let's be rid of that crystal. They just took Jerrik and they've been coming about every ten hours or so. There won't be a better chance than now. Ellison will be bringing our gruel and water anytime now. If he follows his usual pattern, he'll go into the office there and help himself to a meal of his own and a bottle of mead. That will give us about-"
Hogarth stopped talking instantly as the large central dungeon door creaked open and Ellison walked in carrying a bucket and a stack of bowls. He spooned the thick greyish slop into the bowls and, one by one, shoved them through a small flat opening under the bars.
"Eat up, laddies, and stay healthy." With a chuckle he turned and walked away into the small room at the far end of the dungeon, a room he used as an office, and closed the door behind him.
Hogarth walked up to the bars and, still holding the rock, pushed his whole arm. He hefted the rock a few more times feeling its balance. "Erylon, if ever you've guided my arrows in the hunt, hear my prayer now. May this rock find its mark and strike hard and true."
He threw the rock with all his might, a grunt escaping his lips. The rock flew across what seemed an ocean of space between the bars and the wall and hit the crystal squarely. An audible crunch resulted and both rock and crystal crumbled, raining shards and fragments on the floor.
"Good hit, Garth!" said Fenric, clapping him on the back. "You've plum broken the thing. Can our wizards weave their spells now."
"Whether in one piece or a thousand, the crystal bits still poison our magic." said Valdemar. "It matters not that it is broken."
"Everyone, take off your shirts," said Hogarth as he stripped off his own shirt.
"What? Our shirts? In this cold, why?"
"No time to explain. Just do it. Quickly. Ellison eats his meals too fast. We'll only have a quarter hour at best. Come on, then."
Hogarth plunged his own shirt into the bucket of water and then turned to accept the proffered shirts. He began twisting and tying the shirts together until he had a long chain. He then tied his own sopping wet shirt on the end, leaving it loose and unbound.
"Ah, I see what you're doing. Gonna use the wet shirt like mop on a rope and drag it all in, rocks and crystal bits all. 'at's a good plan, Garth. But what do we do with the crystal bits when we've got em. Surely our wizard and healer don't want to be closer to the stuff.
"We're going to fling the crystal shards out of that archer's slot there, said Hogarth. With a flick of his wrist he sent the wet shirt out onto the dungeon floor with a splat. The wet shirt covered about half of the debris and he gently began pulling it toward the cell.
"Why don't you and Ganz get to work on that archer's slot and see if you can pull those red bricks free. We'll need atleast a small opening. Big enough to get a hand through."
"Easily done, sir."
Hogarth paused. He felt uncomfortable in a position of authority. He had no real rank over these soldiers, had no experience leading and didn't want to be responsible to others. He turned back to his work and tried not to think about it.
After three more throws, Hogarth was getting the hang of it. It was similar to throwing a net, which he had some experience in. He threw twice more before he was satisfied. Most of the crystal shards and rock bits were at his feet. Only a few tiny fragments were still out on the dungeon floor and they had gotten caught in cracks between the stones of the floor. Hogarth carefully separated the crystal shards from the pile of gravel at his feet. He quickly hid the gravel beneath the straw, cupped the crystal shards in his hand and walked over to the archer's slot where Fenric was happily ripping bricks from the opening.
Ganz went about untying the rope and handed everyone their shirts back. As Hogarth pulled on his wet shirt, Fenric finished his work and stood back. Light streamed in from a small hole in the wall roughly six inches on a side.
"Well done, Fenric." Hogarth peered out through the opening. He could clearly make out the gaping chasm that surrounded the castle. The lip of the edge was only about ten feet away. Fifty feet away lay the far side, a sheer wall of stone rising up. Beyond that he could see the snow field across which they had been marched. He could just barely make out the forest and the mountainous slopes that boxed this valley in.
One by one, Hogarth sent the crystal shards hurtling into the chasm with a flick of his finger. He started with the largest pieces and continued until the pieces were too small and light to flick. He then brushed them out the window to fall to the snow below.
"How long until your magic is restored?"
"Several hours atleast."
"Very well. Both of you, rest now. We'll need your magic before too long. It's our only hope."
Fenric approached the bars and peered out into the dungeon. "It's a good plan," he said," but you forgot one small detail. Don't you think Ellison is going to notice the crystal missing next time he walks through here?"
"Perhaps. We'll just have to pray he doesn't."
Valdemar stirred from his pallet of straw. "I believe I can help you in that dilemma." He raised his hand toward the empty iron sconce where the crystal had been set and starred hard. At first nothing happened. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in concentration. A scrape of a chair and a door opening sent everyone back to assume bored poses on the straw. Hogarth stood with his back against the far wall, covering up the hole. All eyes were on Valdemar, who still sat with upraised hand and eyes closed. Ellison's footsteps were getting closer.
Then Hogarth saw it. A tiny flicker of blue light within the empty bracket. The flicker died, then came back brighter. Soon it was a steady, azure glow that assumed texture, facets and refraction. Within another three heartbeats, Hogarth was looking at the blue crystal, again in the bracket. The illusion was well wrought. He couldn't see any difference at all and was sure it would fool Ellison. Valdemar fell back on his pile of straw and closed his eyes, apparently taxed by the effort of the spell.
Ellison appeared a moment later. "All right, let's have your bowls. Pass 'em up. Quickly now, I've not all day." The bowls were passed up quickly and quietly and Ellison soon left the dungeon, closing and locking the door behind him. All was quiet again.
"Well done, wizard. But I thought you had no magic?"
"Tis one of the simplest and weakest spells known to me and yet I was almost unable to cast it. My magic is still quite weak, but with the crystal gone I'm feeling a tiny bit better."
"How long will that false crystal image last?"
"Not long, but I can create another later if need be, when I am feeling stronger."
"Good. Now rest."
Kelverin was awakened by a gentle shaking. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see Hogarth's grinning face.
"It's been about six hours, Kelverin. How do you feel?"
With Hogarth's help, Kelverin heaved himself up on unsteady feet and carefully walked around the cell stretching and yawning. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes and his usual spell casting pose. After a moment's meditation, his eyes flicked open.
"Much better, Garth. I'm feeling much better."
"Can you magic us back to Myranor? I've heard tell of powerful sorcerers that can whisk themselves to distant places by simply thinking it. I think anywhere in the city would be fine."
"No, no, I can't. I have little talent for such spells. Besides, using magic to transport us back to Myranor is...
"Yes?"
"Well... of all the Disciplines of magic, Cosmology is by far the most difficult. And such a spell as you describe would be of that realm. I have little talent in that Discipline. To transport us home is a difficult spell and requires much energy. It lies far beyond my meager power. It would be better to try a simpler spell."
Fenric ran his hands across the back wall of the cell. "Can you get rid of this wall atleast?"
I could perhaps weaken it.
"Try it."
Valdemar stepped forward. "Save your magic for healing if we need it, Kelverin. I'll take care of the wall," he said with a smile.
Valdemar lay both his hands flat against the wall and closed his eyes in concentration. Hogarth felt a hum in the air which grew in intensity. It set his teeth vibrating. Several cracks appeared in the wall beneath Valdemar's splayed fingers. The cracks grew wider while chips and flakes began to fall tothe floor.
"Good enough. Now stand back." Valdemar silenced the spell and stepped back away from the wall. Fenric braced his feet and began swinging his hammer like fists into the rock. The wall gave away easily beneath his blows. Within a minute, the wall had a door sized hole in it."
"Everybody out, quickly."
The five stumbled out onto the snow covered ledge. Several birds watching the hole with fearfilled eyes took to the air when the prisoners stepped out, leaving behind nests and eggs. Kelverin began to searching through the nests picking amoung eggs and twigs.
"What are you doing, Kelverin? This is no time to think of breakfast. Can your magic get us across the chasm or are we going to have to climb down?"
Kelverin ignored them. "Ah, perfect." With a grunt, he straightened his bulk and turned to face them. In each hand he clutched a feather. They were dirty grey, large and whole. He walked over to Hogarth and spun him around so that he was facing the other direction.
"Miresh'kan" Kelverin spoke. The feather began to glow an iridescent green.
"This is going to hurt a bit," said Kelverin, and plunged the first feather into Hogarth's arm.
"What's going to - OW! What in Kael's Fury are you -? OW! "
The feathers twisted in Hogarth and began to multiply. Within the span of a heartbeat, Hogarth's arms had become a huge pair of grey and white feathered wings. Hogarth gaped in wonder at the spectacle of his arms. As Hogarth flexed his new wings experimentally, Kelverin tore two feathers from them.
"Ow! Enough already!"
Kelverin spun Fenric around and proceeded to do the same to Fenric as he had to Hogarth. Fenric bore the pain quietly. His wings were broad, thick and powerful. Kelverin did the same with Belrin and soon all three strong warriors were winged.
Kelverin was about to grace Ganz with wings when an arrow whistled by. A horn sounded above them and they saw several guards running along the top of the curtain wall, drawing arrows and taking up positions. Hogarth grabbed Kelverin around the waist and began to beat his wings frantically.
"No time to give us all wings! Fenric, Belrin, grab the other two and fly!" Hogarth felt his feet begin to lift off the ground and in a few beats of his new wings, he and Hogarth were lifting up and out over the gaping chasm. Behind them, they heard the twang of bows. One arrow whistled past dangerously close. Kelverin heard a scream and turned just in time to see Belrin and Ganz plummet into the chasm, a shaft sticking from Belrin's back. Hogarth flapped his magical wings as fast as he could. His back felt like it was on fire. Every beat of his wings was a terrible strain, but he tried to beat them even harder. He saw the far lip of the chasm approaching beneath them and began to relax just a bit when a flash of hot pain explode in his leg. The rhythm of his wings faltered causing him to lurch in the air. Kelverin frantically scrambled to hold on as they began to circle down toward the chasm's edge.
Two more arrows whistled past. Hogarth looked up to see Fenric and Valdemar soaring far ahead of them. Their descent began to steepen and Hogarth realized with a sinking feeling that they were going to fall short of the edge by atleast twenty feet.
"We're not going to make it," Hogarth shouted over the roar of the wind.
"We will!" Kelverin shouted back.
The priest squeezed his eyes shut and began speaking loudly as the wind whipped by them. Hogarth recognized the strange words of magic. He didn't understand them, but he'd heard Kelverin cast spells many times before. Still, he was unprepared for the effects. The pain vanished and was replaced by a sensation of heat and strength that roared through him... a feeling of energy and confidence. The sensation increased, turning into a fire that swept through him, enveloping his whole body. Hogarth redoubled his efforts and found Kelverin felt lighter, the river of wind that opposed him less intense. The arrows began to fall away and their flight leveled out. Kelverin counted twenty beats of the wings and then opened his eyes. Arrows still being fired from the archers on the roof were falling short. Kelverin looked down and saw that they were soaring above snow covered treetops.
Freedom.
The Search
After searching through much of Myranor Keep, Darian finally found the King's Magus. Nolken was standing at the edge of the King's balcony, the largest stone balcony overlooking the great central courtyard of the keep. His red robes stirred and fluttered in the cool night air. His hands rested lightly on the cold stone ledge that encircled the balcony. His eyes were raised to the heavens , seeming to contemplate each of the myriad stars above.
"What can I do for you, Lord Darian?" Nolken said without turning.
"I came to find you... to ask you when you think you might be able to begin working on finding the Prince. I may seem anxious, but I... I'm worried about the current state of affairs". Darian shifted to and fro uncomfortably, not quite sure if he was overstepping his bounds.
"I am searching for the Prince even now."
"Exactly how are you going to accomplish such a feat? Finding a young man amidst the enormity of the world".
"I am familiar with the Prince. I am searching for his energies."
"Energies?" Darian
"Life force is an energy. Every living thing exudes this energy. It is an aura or nimbus that dwells within and surrounds the physical body. Every living thing is unique and, likewise, every creature's aura is unique. Finding such energies is a simple enough spell. A village in the mountains would shine brightly like a forest fire in the night. However, finding a particular aura amoung many takes time.
"Oh." said Darian. The castellan watched and waited. Nolken didn't seem to be doing much of anything. Just standing and staring off into space. Bu then again, wizards were a strange lot and had strange ways. Darian had never felt comfortable around magic.
Darian was just about to turn and leave when the mage spoke.
"There," Nolken whispered. The mage's brow creased in concentration. Darian waited expectantly.
"Yes, I believe I have him. He is with two others."
"Only two others?"
"They are inland. In the Ice Rock Mountains, northwest of the bay.
"Inland?"
"His energy is weak. I must be having some trouble. His aura seems slightly distorted. Perhaps it is the great distance."
"For them to be coming in by land and to be only three in number, something must have gone terribly wrong. A storm? A shipwreck?
"I would think both are probable."
"Praise to the Gods that the Prince still lives. Belisar and Melkran are assembling a team of riders to retrieve the Prince and will be ready to leave at first light. What magical conveyance can you provide them?"
"I think the most energy efficient would be to simply sail upon magical winds. I can push a ship across the bay in half a day with summoned wind. From their, we can proceed on horse. I'll keep the horses from tiring with magic as well. All told, I think we can retrieve the prince and be back within four days."
"Good. That will suffice," Darian said, and then fell silent. His gaze swept out over the land toward the icy northern mountains across the bay. He tried to envision the Prince on his horse, trotting along a snowy road, surrounded by icy peaks.
Deception
Far away from that stone balcony upon which Darian stood, far to the north, a group of riders allowed their horses to graze in a high mountain valley. Lan Ragell lowered her weary arms and opened her eyes. Several men, mounted on snorting and stamping horses, looked at her.
The leader of the group, a huge, barrel chested man on a black stallion, brought his mount closer to Lan. He wore furs over his plate armour. A large battle hammer was slung on his horse beside his saddle. His name was Kael, a name that struck fear into the hearts of warriors near and far.
"Well, witch?" he asked. "What happened?"
"Exactly as Alfax and I expected. They are searching for the prince with magic. I allowed the spell to find these three," she said, with a nod of her head toward the three simulants. "I hid our presence from the spell. But they will be coming. Soon."
"And we shall be ready for them."
The Cat and the Rat
The Drunken Sailor tavern bustled with the morning crowd. Sunlight poured in through the open doors and windows along with a fresh sea breeze. A trio of buccaneers, just in from the docks and still drunk from the night before, slammed tankards together and sang rowdy songs of adventure on the high seas. Seagulls hopped up to the front door hopping for scraps to be tossed to them. Barmaids weaved to and fro avoiding pinches and slaps as they went. The bartender roared with laughter as he refilled mugs and carried on three conversations.
Amidst the noise and revelry, Sendel and Spaden sat at a corner table in the back of the tavern. Two half eatern plates of food sat on the table, ignored. Both thieves were examining trinkets from their job. Sendel slowly drew the jeweled long sword that he had taken from its scabbard. Hefting it in his hand, he felt the weight. It was a magnificent weapon. In his father's duchy, he had been tutored by many fine swordsman and had been given several swords as gifts over the years. But he had never seen a weapon to equal this one. Thin, spidery runes crawled along the length of the blade, directly down the center. He didn't not recognize the characters and was intensely curious as to the name of the sword. He would have to remember to research these characters when he had the chance. The hilt was wrapped in finely twisted strands of silver. The broad crossguard swept down around the handle and connected with the pommel, cupping the wielder's hand protectively. The pommel itself was formed into a sweeping hawk. Placed precisely about the pommel, crossguard and handle were eight gleaming gems. The way that they flashed in the sunlight pleased Sendel. He turned the blade in his hands endlessly, enjoying the play of light and color. This, he thought, is my blade. This is the blade of Sendel. Let the world tremble in fear. A slow grin spread across his face.
Spaden, ignoring him, was enthralled by her own blade. The dagger she had plucked from the weapons case was unlike any she had ever seen. It seemed to be forged from a single piece of metal, a black alloy that seemed too light to be metal. The color was deeper than black. Like the void between stars, it seemed to suck light into it. It drew her eyes in. She stared into the black metal and the noises of the tavern faded as her mind slipped into a waking dream. Perfect silence surrounded her. A sudden pang of loneliness and desolation swept through her. She struggled against this wave of despair that was washing over her but was unable to fight the feelings that were coming unbidden to her mind. She closed her eyes in an effort to stop the tears that she knew were coming.
Spaden came to her senses with a jolt as Sendel burst out laughing and he slammed his mug to the table. "So beautiful and wealthy a woman has no reason to look so sad!"
Spaden swallowed the lump in her throat and quickly slipped the dagger into his sheath. She quickly wiped a tear away as she looked up at him.
"I am far from wealthy."
"With this pretty baubles, we'll not want for much. Let us discuss our next move. Unloading
our goods. I know the perfect man to help us unload our goods. His name is Norrik and he's the best fence in the city. He usually comes in here about midday and-"
With a loud thump, an arrow sprouted from the wooden beam next to Sendel, who leapt back with surprise as if bitten. Spaden crouched at the ready, the black dagger in her hand. Sendel scrambled to his feet drawing the jeweled long sword.
Several startled shouts sounded near the doorway as a scuffle began. A man was thrown over a table and the sound of steel on steel rang out. Pushing his way out of the knot of bodies, a blind man appeared and strode quickly across the tavern toward the two startled thieves.
"Damn!" said Sendel, drawing the sabre. "From the trophy room". Spaden picked up her flagon and flung the liquid contents at the blind man. As if expecting the move, Caspian ducked underneath the flung liquid and came up hard against Spaden, pinning her to the wall with his left arm. Sendel moved around the table with the sabre leading and took a hasty swing. Caspian parried the stroke with his horn bow and lashed out with his foot, connecting with the young thief's stomach. Sendel doubled over with a whoosh of air and crumbled to the floor gasping.
"What's this?" bellowed the barkeep.
Caspian casually placed the bow on the thieves' table and shoved a hand into his vest pocket. He then withdrew a gleaming coin of gold and tossed it onto the bar.
"You have a back door, barkeep?"
The barkeep picked up the gold piece and considered whether or not to let this man haul two paying customers out of his establishment. He didn't know the stranger, but he recognized the badge of the city guard that hung pinned to the strangers belt. He didn't need any more trouble with the local authorities. If these two were wanted, he'd give them up. Pointing, he gestured.
"Through there, and left."
Caspian nodded his thanks, sheathed his weapon and hauled the two thieves to their feet. He didn't waste any time and, gripping them firmly, dragged them both toward the back of the tavern.
Spaden struggled, kicking and clawing. She caught a glimpse of a smile on the stranger's face and she suddenly got angry. He was enjoying this! She redoubled her struggles, but it was no use. The stranger had his arm wrapped around her and held her with an iron grip.
Caspian, having his route planned out, went quickly to the back alley he had chosen. Flopping both thieves down on the ground like two sacks of flour, he pushed Sendel to the ground with a foot while he tied Spaden's hands behind her back. She spit on his leg as he bound Sendel in similar fashion. Caspian then took a step back and sat down on an abandoned wooden crate, seeming to regard his handiwork.
Sendel sat up abruptly sputtering and coughing. He daintily shook dust from his hair and tried to wipe his soiled cheek on his shoulder. He then looked up at the stranger.
"What outrageousness is this? To abduct, by force, a junior member of the city council in broad daylight ? I'll have your head for this!"
"You have earned yourself a pair of enemies this day, blind man." Spaden growled quietly.
Both thieves waited for the stranger to say something.
Caspian took out a pipe and began to stuff it with kelfarian red leaf. He then lit it, leaned back and began to calmly puff hazy rose colored clouds into the morning air..
"What do you want of us?" asked Spaden.
Caspian pulled out a large, wickedly curved knife and smiled, facing Sendel.
"Your hands."
Sendel swallowed hard and looked as if he were about to faint.
"What?" asked Spaden.
"Those hands broke into the Warlord's mansion last night. Those hands picked the locks, and plucked the treasured jewels.
"We did no such thing!" cried Sendel. "Baseless accusations!"
Caspian leaned forward, gripped the leather thong about Spaden's neck and pulled the Heart of Alykor out from Spaden's shirt.
"Didn't you?"
"But-"
"Oh, no need to explain, your Highness." Caspian's tone was lighthearted, almost friendly. "No doubt the two of you came upon this little trinket quite by accident and we're just having a quick meal before returning it to it's proper owner. Why don't we go see the Warlord right now. Shall we? To return this wayward jewel. I'm sure all will be set right. After all, the Warlord is a very forgiving sort of man."
"You mock us. You know as well as we what a brutal and ill-tempered man he is."
"Evil, perhaps. And vengeful. You'd be surprised at what he offered me to find you."
"Why you? Why would he believe you could find us?"
"I found you... didn't I?"
Sendel glared, but said nothing.
"I have been ordered by the Warlord to take you both back. What hideous form of public execution he has planned for you I can't imagine. But I'm sure he'll pay well to make your deaths slow. After all, you stole much more than fine blades and jewels.
"What do you mean?"
"You stole a reputation. The Warlord's trophy room is no longer thief-proof." Caspian tilted his head back to let the warm sun shine on his face and smiled. "That seems to grieve him the most. He's going to make examples of the two of you."
"This city would not dare-"
"execute an ambassador's assistant. Don't be naive. You're not that important in the political machinations of this city. If Belisar gets his hands on you, Ambassador Dar will be more than happy to give you up."
"Never."
"In the interests of maintaining cordial relations, Normidia will give you up without hesitation claiming that you acted on your own. They'll announce that you are no longer in the employ of the Normidian king and that you are no longer a member of his family. You will lose what little protection politics might have afforded you."
Sendel stared off at nothing, seeming only now to realize his situation.
"If you're very unfortunate," Caspian continued, "Belisar might even be able to arrange to have an Imperial executioner brought in. Have you ever seen an imperial criminal die? It's a terrible thing to behold. The empirial executioners are called Pain Masters and for good reason. They often manage to keep the victim alive for over an hour. They start by stripping you of your clothing and hanging you upside from a -"
"Enough, sir. There is a lady present"
Spaden gave a weak smile.
"I could turn you over to Belisar right now," said Caspian.
"Could?" asked the two thieves together.
"To be honest, I think that after I turn you in, Belisar will find some convenient way out of payment. And I'd prefer not to waste your talent."
"What do you mean by that?" Spaden asked.
"I offer you a choice. I have a job for you. Something just right for your skills.
"What?" cried Sendel, in disbelief. "Why should we?"
"Because if you don't, you'll die. Most horribly. Take your chances with the city guard. After I give them your descriptions and perhaps a lock of your hair for a tracking spell, they'll have no trouble finding you. Belisar will have you.
"And what is this job you speak of?" asked Spaden.
"I travel north soon. Into the Icerock Mountains. To conquer a duchy. You're both quick with your blades. You can pick locks and disarm traps. Such talents may prove useful. Join me and I'll see to it that Belisar never finds you. Refuse me and I'll hand you over to him.
Caspian drew out his strange bladed weapon and tucked the point under Sendel's chin.
"Well?"
"I accept."
Sendel turned toward Spaden with obvious surprise. Caspian cocked his head toward the young lady.
"What was that?" said Sendel.
"What was that?" asked Caspian.
A slow smile spread across her face. "I'll serve you. I ask only one thing. Let me keep the black dagger that I took. Agree to that and I'll do your thieving for you."
"Done." Caspian turned to Sendel expectantly.
"This is madness. Bargaining with a criminal-"
Caspian pushed the blade a bit further into Sendel's skin. Sendel made a strangled choke.
"-will keep you alive." Caspian finished. "One job. One trip into the mountains. We take a castle there. By stealth or by force. Either way, I can use you."
Spaden turned to Sendel. "It seems a simple enough choice. Death and thievery.?"
"I don't know..."
"It's your choice. Stay here and enjoy the gentle touch of an executioner's knife. Come with me and I'll see to it that you each get a fair share of whatever loot we chance upon."
Sendel hung his head and stared at his boots. The other two waited for him to answer.
"And how do we know that you won't hand us over to Belisar after we've done your job.
"You have my word."
"You expect me to risk my life for your word."
"Unlike you, thief, I have a code of honor."
Sendel raised his head sheepishly to Spaden, who was glaring back at him expectantly.
"Very well," Sendel said quietly. "It seems we have little choice in the matter."
"Excellent! " Caspian reached down and untied their hands. Both thieves stood up and rubbed their sore wrists.
"Don't even think about leaving the city. I found you once, I can do it again. Cause me too much trouble and I'll just deliver you to Belisar, gagged and bound." He reached up and tore the Heart of Alynkor from around Spaden's neck. He stayed her protests with an upraised hand. "My apologies, but this is needed elsewhere. I advise you to keep a low profile for the next day or so. Belisar will undoubtedly be searching the city for the two thieves who wronged him."
With that, he turned and stalked deeper into the shadows of the alley leaving behind to stunned thieves standing awkwardly in the morning light.
"Well?" asked Spaden
"Well." said Sendel. "It seems our next job is already planned out for us. In the meantime, why don't we go and see my friend Norrik about fencing the rest of our take."
This page last updated Wednesday, December 24, 2008. Copyright 1990-2009 David M. Roomes.