Secrets of Arkana Fortress (14 page)

His tired eyes skimmed the precious metal that was adorned by the old Traseken emblem for the Knight’s Order. ‘Very impressive, mercenary,’ he uttered calmly, unlike Orlanna who was now fidgeting about with a guilty look on her face.

Mikos sat back on this conversation, listening intently while the plans were laid out and things were revealed about each of the people at the table.

So this Kelken person was once a knight of the old Traseken Order was he? Mikos was genuinely impressed, and at the same time regretted pissing the old man off earlier. If he had known who he was, or had been, from the start then he would have handled things with kid gloves.

His daughter Breena, on the other hand, was an interesting observation. Besides her astounding beauty and flame red mane of hair, her personality, from what he had seen, hid something a lot more than what she gave off. Her reptilian eyes were shrouded with quick temper and abruptness, but behind them lay a subtle cunning that could either become a problem or a benefit. He also suspected that there was vulnerability beneath her scales that had something to do with her father.

Mikos looked at Orlanna as she carried on with the conversation. She was like an open book to him – a faithful sidekick, of sorts, to Dedrick. It was possible they were lovers; he had noticed her occasional sideways glances, filled with a mixture of admiring devotion, and a longing that gave her eyes an almost velvet-like softness.

Then there was Dedrick himself, a man of much mystery and subterfuge. He had once been in a position of power, that much was obvious, but had retained the influences and airs of respect that he had earned along the way. He always approached things from a position of strength and logic, but was clearly prone to anger.

Mikos’s ability to read people quickly had never failed him, and it was much relied on. It was a natural skill of his.

A tapping turned their heads as a short, dark-haired man popped his head around the side of the door. ‘The lads are ready, Mr Ranliss.’ Without sticking around for any acknowledgement the man disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Dedrick stood up slowly and then recoiled as he coughed heavily, Orlanna jumping up to his side to rub his back soothingly.

Mikos glanced back and forth between Kelken and Breena, and watched as they too exchanged looks at the sight of their employer fitting in front of them.

Orlanna guided Dedrick to the door and shuffled him through it gently. She turned slightly to one side and looked at the three onlookers. ‘We’ll be ready to move out in two hours once Mr Ranliss is ready.’ She vanished.

‘And what the hell is my part in this ingenious plan?’ Mikos added as the silence set in like a nagging suspicion.

The old mercenary clicked his neck and stared at the trader blankly. ‘I think you’re to be a part of the distraction.’

Chapter 11

A cyclonic wind rattled the overhead lamp stands as the dust clouded along the echoing street. A lone rat scuttled along the cobbles, a morsel of bread lodged in its tiny jaws as it guided its way through the poor light.

              A padded foot touched forward at a snail’s pace, a sword sifting through the heavy air almost naturally and without threat.

Swift movements ensued, blood shot out of a guard’s neck, and a body slumped to the stone floor like a sack of bricks dropped from up high. The second guard shifted his head too late and was cut down in similar style to his companion.

‘Move forward,’ a gruff voice said to the shadows.

Breena jumped from an above balcony and landed onto the floor with a roll. She had tied her crimson hair back into a ponytail and wore only the lightest of clothing. Her eyes were fixed on her father who had bent down to remove the armoured grey uniforms from the guards.

‘Do you reckon you’ll be able to fit into these things? Who knows what these guys have done in them,’ he asked, shooting her a questioning look.

‘I’ve fitted into worse, dad,’ she replied as she took a set of greaves from his hands. ‘Remember that time back east when I had to masquerade as a doddering old woman with a totally bent back? Now that was difficult – my hair kept getting in the way of my face.’

Kelken chuckled, his hands moving over the second corpse with precision. ‘Oh yeah… forgot that one. OK, you win.’

They both finished undressing the two dead guards before Kelken promptly dragged the bodies into a dark alcove.

‘You got their credentials, Breena?’ Kelken huffed as he jogged over, a brisk wind flailing his greying hair about.

She waved a couple of pieces of folded paper in front of her. ‘Yes indeed… here’s yours.’ She thrust one into her father’s hand.

Kelken opened his up and skimmed over the posh font. ‘Good stuff.’ He raised his head. ‘They in position you reckon?’

Breena shrugged half-heartedly. ‘Well if they ain’t then this won’t be pretty… let’s move.’

***

‘Halt and identify yourself,’ bellowed the lone soldier who stood guard by the prison entrance.

              ‘I am sergeant Gouldar of the south watch – I have come here at the behest of the prison commander for something of a private matter,’ replied Kelken from beneath the smooth white helmet as he rested his hand on the hilt of his longsword. The white helmet signified the sergeant’s rank in the military; red was anything from captain and above.

              The young guard shifted his eyes and looked at Breena who was standing a bit further away by the opposite wall with her trusty bow slung over her shoulder.

The door to the prison was tucked away in small side street, and, being far from the common jails on the city’s portside, was not found very often by anyone other than the Donnol guard.

              ‘Can I see your papers please, sergeant?’ the guard asked stoically.

              Kelken reached into the depths of his armour and shuffled out the small wad of identity papers, handing them over without hesitation.

              This was the awkward moment… would this inexperienced Donnol grunt question the so-called superior that stood in front of him? If he did, then he wouldn’t be alive for much longer.

              The whelp stared at the papers in front of him, a vacant look in his eyes as if he had no clue what he was verifying. His beady eyes glanced from the papers to Kelken and then back again.

              ‘Can you hurry it up? The sergeant’s got places to be, kid.’ Breena sighed and looked up at the sky, hoping her attempt at a male voice paid off.

              ‘Erm… yes of course, sir,’ the guard eventually replied before stuffing the papers back into Kelken’s hands. ‘Go on through, sergeant.’ He stepped aside and rapped on the door with a gloved fist. ‘Sergeant Gouldar is here to see the commander.’

              The sliding of heavy-sounding bolts clunked from the inside of the door before it was arched open by a burly guard whose armour was nowhere near big enough for him. ‘A‘right sarg,’ he said in a gruff voice, his mouth full of some sort of bread. ‘Come on in.’

              Come on in? The room was like a sty occupied by an unusually large pig, a woodworm-ridden table and chairs, and a pile of discarded food waste piled in a hole-ridden cotton sack. Was this a prison or a dump? It was hard to distinguish.

              Kelken shivered at the sight of this guard and his demeanour. Why serve your kingdom if you were going to end up like this? What would happen if a fight ever came this way? This overweight walrus of a man would feed the armies of the enemy for weeks on end if they skinned him and stuck him on a spit over a roaring fire.

              ‘Straighten yourself up man!’ Kelken bellowed at the rotund soldier who stuffed a fresh piece of food into his mouth. ‘And do not eat in the presence of a superior, for the love of the gods. Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll mention you to your commander when I see him.’

              The food was tossed on the floor as the guard nearly choked from the sudden whipping of authority on his sizeable hide. ‘Sorry, sir; won’t ever happen again, sir.’

              ‘Damn right it won’t, soldier. If it keeps on happening, I’ll stick my boot so far up your fat arse you’ll be chewing on the end of it for weeks to come… understand?’

              An audible gulp came from the man’s bulging throat. ‘Y… yes sir.’

              Kelken grunted and walked off to exit the room. As he opened the large wooden door he stopped and turned around to address the man a final time. ‘Hang your head in shame; you’re a pitiful excuse for a soldier, let alone a guard of Donnol’s high security prison.’

              The door slammed behind him.

              Kelken breathed out heavily – he hadn’t bluffed his way through something like that for a long, long time. That was only the first of many hurdles, however.

              The prison complex reached further and further down into the bowels of the city, winding tunnels and passageways weaving through each other like the laces on a royal tapestry. If it wasn’t for the signs tacked to the carved out stone walls then Kelken would have been lost very quickly.

              It was after turn after turn that Kelken came to an area that was more secure than the rest of the previous ones – it had multiple steel doors leading into a single cell that were secured by two guards. Now this was a situation he had to think about before approaching it. Where the heck was that distraction?

              ‘Can we help you?’ asked one of the door guards after staring at Kelken for a few minutes, his face only just lit by the hanging torches on the ceiling.

              Kelken shuffled his feet forward and took a long gulp of air. ‘I’m the new sergeant here; I was just coming to have a look at some of these prisoners you’ve caught. I hear that that Evie Ranliss girl is chained up in there.’

              ‘What of it, sergeant?’ the other guard chimed in.

              ‘Oh nothing… I just wanted to see if I could have some… fun with her, if you know what I mean?’ He rubbed his hands together and leered at the two men.

              ‘You’re welcome to try,’ grinned the first guard. ‘But she’s managed to put a few of the lads in the infirmary already, sir.’

              ‘I’ll take my chances in there.’ Typical soldiers of the Donnol guard – couldn’t keep their cocks in their pants when it came to a female prisoner. Kelken never did understand the desire for it, probably a power thing.

              ‘Papers please, Sarg.’

              ‘I need papers to stick my meat in a woman these days?’ Kelken laughed. ‘If you insist.’ He handed over the sergeant’s identity papers and chuckled from underneath his helmet.

              The older of the two men read the papers, folded them back up, and handed them back. ‘I’ve changed my mind, papers aren’t enough to make me open the door,’ he grunted.

              The other man glanced over at his companion with a look of bewilderment. ‘What the fuck are you doing? He outranks us.’

              Before the man could reply, Kelken rustled into his armour again and produced a small jingling bag of coins. He tossed it at the guard and snorted. ‘200 rubos then. Now let me in coz I can’t keep this dick of mine at attention forever.’

              The man stuffed the bag of coins into his armour and then took the keys from his belt. ‘Hey, what can I say? I’m a businessman, y’know.’

              The first of what looked like two doors was unlocked and closed behind them, nothing but the sound of the keys and the odd drip of water accompanying their footsteps. A stale, and nonetheless sickening, smell wafted up his nose. Kelken raised one of his hands to his face and made a disgusted throaty sound.

              ‘You get used to the smell of piss and shit, sarg,’ said the guard as he inserted the key into the first cell door.

              This girl had probably been left to bathe in her own waste until she was sent for to be executed. That would add to the disgrace prior to death and he guessed that she had been set up for a very slow and painful demise as it was. He had only ever seen one public killing of a high risk criminal in Donnol, and that had been many years ago before Breena had come of age. The victim had been a young man who had allegedly killed a high ranking politician. Although the man’s pleas of innocence were constant and full of sincerity, even after the methodical torture he had no doubt endured, his head was severed slowly by use of magic ropes that kept him alive until his spine snapped. That was all, however, after his arms, legs, and penis were removed via the same method.

              ‘Oi, bitch, time to fight another one off,’ the guard called out into the darkness of the vast, shapeless cell. Nothing spoke back to him other than the gloomy echo of his own voice.

              ‘Quiet ain’t she?’ Kelken remarked. ‘They’re usually the fiery ones them are.’ He chuckled softly and rapped on the open door. ‘Hope you’re ready for it, you little slut,’ he called out, this time the reply being a scuffling of movement. ‘Can we get some light in here?’

              ‘Here,’ the guard grunted as he thrust a burning wick into Kelken’s hand. ‘There’s some lanterns on the ceiling. Going for the romantic rape scenario, eh sarg?’ he laughed before shutting the door to leave the so-called sergeant to his business. ‘Call me when you’re ready,’ he called through the door grating as he moved off.