In Service Of The King (Book 2) (22 page)

The guard slowly lifted one hand above his head, then the other. Walking forward, Joseph took the man’s sword, then pulled back his hood. The thin, bruised face of a young man met their gaze, his hair sooty and stained a little on one side with dried blood.

“Jack Rhine!” Ostene spat. He looked in at the man laying on the bench. The man’s chest rose and fell, showing that there was yet life in him. Relieved, Ostene darted an angry glance back to the escaped prisoner. “You’re swine fodder I’ll see to it you are treated deservedly in the tunnels!”

“I’ll escape!” the young man said, with difficulty; his lip was bruised and swollen, but he spoke regardless. “I’ll tell the wall guards what you’ve done here; keeping the food from us all this while!” Dunner and Joseph exchanged a look with Hezekiah at the young man’s words. Ostene laughed.

“They will not believe you,” he said, simply. To Dunner, the bishop nodded his head. “Well done guard,” he said, making a brief gesture of blessing towards the gruff-looking man. “Your eyes are keen. I’ll see you are rewarded.”

“Yes!” Hezekiah boomed, smiling. “A hawkish guard is well worth many golden trinkets...”

“Bind him and bring him along,” Ostene said, walking onward. Joseph and Baith did so, leading the prisoner between them. Jack Rhine did not fight them, but walked along in miserable silence.

A door stood at the far end of the room, with a large iron lock. Stopping in front of it Ostene brought out a huge ring of keys. Unlocking the door he stepped through, descending down another long fight of winding steps. When they ended several minutes later, they came upon a room with no doors. The bishop walked to a wall, and brought out his keys. Selecting one, he walked forward and drew aside a tapestry. Behind it, a wooden door stood, with a carved Latin word scrolling across it.

“Benevolius...” Hezekiah mused, aloud. “Benevolences.” Hearing this, Ostene beamed.

“I do not often hear the old language spoken aloud,” he said, putting the key into the iron lock. “My scribes were ‘transferred’ to Morronai some years ago, but for a good cause.” The lock squealed a bit and opened with a low clang. The bishop opened the door and stepped through, beckoning to the others. “Though it requires of me much labor, writing reports and messages, the Acts of Benevolences have enriched us greatly...”

The room they stood in was a vast storage room, cut directly from the rock. Stacked up to the rock ceiling were barrels and barrels of wine and ale, and row upon row of grain sacks. All the barrels and sacks bore the word for Benevolences. From what Rubar told them at the monastery, this food was specially collected and marked for feeding the poor; the people above on the streets were starving and here was enough food to feed the entire sector for months. Anger sparked in Joseph’s brown eyes; he kept silent, though his knuckles showed white as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

Guiding them down the long, central aisle, Ostene pointed out a few items to Hezekiah as they strolled along.

“That is some very nice aged Bordeux...” the man said, indicated a particular wine barrel. “Senator Reblyn gave us several compliments on it, when he came to dine here in March.”

“He must have come under heavy guard,” Hezekiah remarked, walking along beside the priest. Ostene glanced at his guest with a puzzled look.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bishop Vanderberg...”

“Vandenberger,” Hezekiah corrected, gravely. Ostene looked at him closely.

“He came through the tunnels,” the man said, his brow drawn. “Most do not venture here topside, let alone the Senator...” Sensing he’s made a critical error, Hezekiah waved his hand nonchalantly.

“It is well he should,” the tall man said, clasping his hands behind his back. “The risk of exposure is high these days...” Ostene nodded, but said nothing; he appeared to be contemplating something weighty as he strolled along.

The long aisle ended at a stone wall. The wall was ten feet high and seemed solidly built; gray-stone blocks were fitted precisely and evenly all over its surface. Taking out his ring again, Ostene looked through them methodically, glancing over at Hezekiah uncertainly; he apparently found comfort in the man’s confident expression and nodded at him. Finding a thick, iron key, the Bishop felt along the wall until he found a hole, covered in shadow. Inserting the key, he turned it with difficulty until a hidden door grated open nearby.

Beyond the hidden rock door sat a small, narrow room, with three jail cells along one side; they were empty but here and there lay a ragged piece of clothing. The room continued into two, wide corridors, one leading into another chamber, and one which turned away from sight, with stairs leading upwards. The sounds of bustling activity could be heard echoing down the straight hall.

Ostene turned to Hezekiah.

“You are familiar with this passage, correct?” he inquired, smiling. “The one entrance that leads to the cavern?” Hezekiah nodded, going along with the man’s words. Ostene’s face fell. “You do not know Sytel,” he stated, slowly, narrowing his eyes. “He always orders two passages cut, in case of cave-ins...” The man turned, to yell for the guards; he was cut off from doing so. Dunner hit the priest on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Ostene fell to the ground, unconscious.

Jack Rhine saw this activity and began throwing his slender frame about, trying to get away; the young man’s eyes were filled with panic. Almost immediately, the prisoner felt a cold, sharp blade at his throat.

“Be still,” Joseph whispered to him. “If you value your life, you will give us no trouble and work alongside us.”

Out of the corner of his eye Jack Rhine saw a curious glint in the hand of the man who held him fast; focusing his eyes, the thin man glimpsed the seal of Joseph ‘sShamar ring, hidden in his palm. Calming himself, he swallowed as the shiny blade left his throat.

“I will,” the man said, looking at Joseph warily. “You are not priest’s guards...”

Joseph took his dagger and cut Jack Rhine’s bonds.

“Neither are you,” he said, looking the young man in the eye. “I’ll arm you; do as you are told and no harm with come to you.” Jack nodded, accepting a dagger from Joseph’s hands. Hezekiah and Dunner picked up the priests arms and dragged him into one of the open cells.

“Quickly...” Hezekiah said, taking out a dagger. “We must dress him in common clothes.” He looked over at the thin young man they had rescued. “We must make him into Jack Rhine.” At this Jack smiled, a little.

Joseph ducked into another cell, snatching up any articles of clothing he could see. Leaning down, Hezekiah found the rolled parchment in Ostene’s pouch and tossed it to Joseph. Catching it in one hand, Joseph handed down the peasant clothes. With a smile, Dunner cut away the priest’s crimson robe with his dagger, leaving Ostene in his fine linen tunic and leggings. As they dressed him in the dirty, smelly rags, the priest began to move his head and groan with pain.

Balling up a large scrap of priestly robe, Dunner stuffed the wad into the priests mouth, securing it with another length of cloth around Ostene’s head. Hezekiah bound the man’s hands tightly with the cords that had held Jack Rhine captive. The former prisoner stood by, watching all this with interest.

“Put up your hood, Jack,” Joseph told him, quietly. The young man did so, his eyes taking on an anxious look.

The rhythmic sounds of marching boots on stone came faintly down the passage; hauling the groaning bishop to his feet, Dunner nodded at Baith; the young man held Ostene’s other arm fast. Opening one eye, the priest began trying to talk through the gag. Taking up an empty sack, Hezekiah pulled it down over the bishop’s head. A unit of heavily armed priest guards filed into the room; they saw Hezekiah standing there in his crimson robe and bowed slightly.

“Bless you, men of the tunnels!” Hezekiah said, grandly; he made a gesture at the men and looked over at the struggling prisoner. “By order of Bishop Ostene, we hereby intern to the tunnels one Jack Rhine, villainous thief of cathedral bread!”

The guards nodded and clumped by, heading into the storage chamber. “May you crush the dissenters above with spears of conflagration and all the vicissitudes of mortality!” Hezekiah continued, waving blessings at the guards as they went by. Once the guards were out of sight Dunner looked over at Joseph.

“I say those cursed robes are giving Brother Hezekiah delusions of the mind,” the aging sailor said, gruffly. Hezekiah grinned at him.

“If you light your pipe, you may find the smoke sweetens your temperament,” he replied.

Jack Rhine could contain himself no longer.

“Whoa re you men? Why are you here?” he demanded, glancing at first one, then another. “No citizens venture into the tunnels...” Lighting his pipe, Dunner puffed a bit of smoke.

“I could say it was to meet you, Jack... but I’d be lyin’...” he said, fixing his gaze upon the thin man in borrowed uniform.

Joseph stepped forward.

“Do you know you way through the tunnels?” he inquired, seriously. “We must get out and quickly.” Jack looked at him a moment.

“I will lead you out,” he said, “But I must find and release some of the prisoners here, first.” Dunner snorted and leaned forward, his sword still in hand.

“Perhaps I can cut off your hand and ask again, boy,” he warned. Hezekiah turned to Dunner, his hands over his ears.

“Such talk of violence pains my very ears!” he said, in mock agony. “Let there be grace in the mountains... peace on the sea...”

“I’ll give you a piece of the sea, brother!” Dunner snarled. Joseph laughed at this, shaking his head.

Ignoring this, Jack Rhine nodded once at Joseph and led the way though the straight corridor; the thin man paused warily at each turn of the passage, listening carefully before continuing onward. Several branches of tunnels turned away from the main, some going west under the city, some going east towards the hills; the easterly tunnels brought hot, putrid air. Joseph recognized the smell of death and molten metal. Jack did not lead them there but crept ever forward.

Eventually, they came upon a small chamber, with two armed priests guards standing on either side of an iron-fortified door. They watched the men filter into the room, standing straighter as Hezekiah swept in. The tall ‘priest’ walked up the guards without hesitation.

“Prisoner for the cavern,” he said, fixing each guard in the eye. “By order of Bishop Ostene.” One guard looked from Hezekiah to Dunner and Baith, holding the struggling, bound man in the hood. “One bread thief, called Jack Rhine.”

The guards looked surprised at this.

“Jack Rhine?” one said, stepping forward. “He would not be put here, with his family...” At this, Dunner and Joseph exchanged a glance. The hooded Jack came to life with a loud cry; startled at the sound the forward guard turned, only to have Jack’s dagger hilt come down on his head. Joseph stepped forward and knocked the other guard uncoscious. Hezekiah helped pull the roll the unconsious men away from the door. Jack Rhine aided the Shamar in lifting off the heavy crosspiece from in front of the door, letting it fall to the ground with a thud. Jack immediately pulled open the door, his face taking on a desperate look.

Behind the door lay a large storage room, similar to the one beneath the cathedral; wine barrels could be seen clearly and stacks of grain bags. Here sat baskets of last year’s apple crop, keeping well in the cool temperatures underground. Shelves along the walls held many loaves of bread, though much of it was spoiling and molded. Jack did not seem interested in the food, but walked around, looking this way and that.

A low, muffled sound came from somewhere in the room; after a moment the men recognized it to be a woman crying. Hezekiah pointed at Dunner and signaled him to move forward down one aisle, and Joseph took the other. Jack Rhine ran forward, his sword out, looking frantically around.

“Ruth!” he called out into the dim room. “Ruth!”

“Jack?” came a feeble reply, from the far corner of the room. At the sound of it Jack took off in the voice’s direction.

Darting after the man Joseph ran between the stacks of supplies, ready for more fighting. At length he saw a large, iron cage built into the back of the cavern wall; the bars had seen sunk deep into the rock. A wooden bunk stood in the farthest corner with three small figures huddled upon it. Spying them, Jack ran to the cage, gaining the bars quite out of breath. Joseph stood by him, looking into the cage.

An emaciated woman clutched two young boys to her; both children were extremely thin; they looked at the priest guard uniforms with large, scared eyes.

“Ruth...” Jack said, his face twisted in anguish. “Thank God you’re alive! I’ve come to get you out. Do not fear these men; they will help us.”

The cage door was locked; no key hung anywhere in sight. Jack tugged and rattled the cage door to no avail.

“Step back,” Joseph instructed. Looking at him Jack Rhine saw the shiny blade and quickly obeyed. One blow of the sword on the hinges made the door bend inward a little; the second sent sparks flying. A few more blows and Joseph was able to pick up the heavy door and lift it a little away from the entrance.

Jack squeezed through the bent metal and ran in to his family. The activity seemed to rouse the women from her daze; she tried to stand up, still clutching her children.

“Da!” the older little boy called out; he wound thin arms around his father’s waist. Jack lifted both boys in his arms, tears streaming down his face. His wife stood with difficulty and touched Jack’s head with a thin hand, her own eyes brimming with tears. Joseph stood a ways away, looking back for Dunner and Hezekiah.

“The day you went to the magistrate, the priest guards came by the house and took us here,” the woman said, in a strained voice. “They said I would never see you again. They would not feed us...”

Hezekiah stepped around a stack of grain, watching the happy reunion. Dunner stood nearby, viewing the family inside the cage with watery eyes. Glancing at each others’ faces, the men hurriedly wiped their eyes.

“Awfully damp in here,” Dunner said, quickly.

“Yes; fungus, you know,” Hezekiah returned.