(Private... continued from earlier in this thread)
Lord Halberion Veranis
Lossarnach – Castle Ansellidus - Dungeon
End of December
It had been a month now since the visit from the young man who'd tried to help him. There were moments, in the dark of the dungeon cell, when Hal couldn't help but doubt his choice to put trust in him. He had been skeptical, of course. But then, he'd taken the risk of asking for help. Maybe it had all been a trick. Maybe he'd tried for too long to hold onto hope. Could it be that his captor had wanted to get that sort of information out of him? Had he contrived that whole scene just to get Hal to tell him something.. like what he'd told him?
The thought that he might have fallen for such a trick plagued him during the long periods of darkness, and he longed to know what was going on out in the world. Still, there were little things that he struggled to remind himself about. The way that Ric had given him food. The way he'd put his cloak around Hal's shoulders, and how he had helped him to walk around. How he'd given him the key to his shackles, so that Hal could get rid of it. Surely, his captor wouldn't have done that, right? He might have done some of those things, but the key... no, that would be pushing it. Right?
Thanks to the key being gone for good now, the jailor had been forced to shackle him elsewhere. And his 'new location' enabled the man to exercise his limbs to some degree. Far more than when he had been confined to a chair, anyway. He had been spending as much time as he could, each day, in strengthening his limbs again. Holding onto the chains by which his wrist shackles were secured to the wall, he had been working at being able to pull himself to a standing position by his arms alone, then lower himself back to seated. He would then use his legs alone, to raise himself to standing, and then back to seated. As often as possible, throughout each day, he would alternate these exercises. Sometimes he would vary it up by 'sitting' against the wall, using his legs to press his back against the wall. Over the course of the past month, the prisoner had experimented with every possible way that he could think of to exercise his arms, legs, core, and even back while in his current predicament.
And then there were the meals. While a part of him still felt skeptical about the visitor who called himself Ric, every day when Farchon brought him a meal, it reminded Hal that it was because of Ric that he was getting this meal. And since his captor had been opposed to letting him receive anything more than what he absolutely must have to keep Hal alive, it did seem to confirm that this was not the same man. Yet, a little part of his mind continued to nag with worry. Perhaps it was part of the guy's plan, to make him believe he was a friend. Perhaps, he had some reason to convince Hal that he was a friend, so he would trust him later.. but for what? Perhaps he had only sent the message about himself being recaptured, to keep Hal from being upset when no help came.. perhaps it had been to some sort of twisted game to raise his hopes and then snatch them away.
Perhaps this, perhaps that... and so on the thoughts went.
But what could he do about it, now? Having so little else to do, it was an effort to keep his mind from running away with all of the thoughts and worries that troubled him. If not for the things he had learned from Shen Yong, many years ago, Hal was sure that he would have had no hope of keeping his mind clear. As it was, every time he began to feel overwhelmed with it all, he would find the most relaxing position he could get into, close his eyes, and spend some time meditating to try and clear his mind and focus his thoughts.
If no one came to help him, at least for now, he was better off than he had been for the last few years. Hal consoled himself with that thought, at least. And if the guy
was sincere, then there was some tiny bit of a chance that he might somehow manage to get word out, and bring help. If not... well, at least he was no worse off. So far. Sighing, he rested his head back against the wall. It looked like it was going to be another long, dull day in the dark for him. It was much better than having the monotony broken up by spending some time with Duk'ran, at least. Fortunately, he hadn't been sent in here to trouble Hal in months. While he certainly had no objection to that, he did wonder
why, and also, where had the master of this estate been all this time? And why had Alyssa been taken away? More things to trouble his thoughts, but he tried not to think the worst.
Rather than worry about things he couldn't do anything about, Hal closed his eyes and focused on the hope that he continued to cling to, that one day he would get out of here, while he drew himself up by his arms, to stand. Then, using his legs, he lowered himself back down, slowly. As slow and controlled as he could, without aiding his descent with his arms. At least he had something to do besides sit around listening to the scurrying of rats in the shadows. Next time that scumbag came in here to torment him, Hal intended to be ready for him...
(continued
here)
Aderic Androllius
Late Dec - In guest chambers of Castle Ansellidus
Ric blew gently on the page before rereading the new, rather lengthy entry to his new journal while waiting for the ink to dry. Since his old one had been stolen, he had begun compiling a new one, and over the past few weeks he had been trying his best to restore the records he had lost. It was, by far, incomplete compared to what he had lost. But it was the best that he could do, given the circumstances. He felt such frustration that his other one had vanished. Who could have done that? He still couldn’t come up with any ideas on that… except for his brother. And that dismayed him further, to realize that Mar must know that Ric was onto him. And to think that Mar now knew everything that Ric had written in there.
In this new one, he was writing exclusively in the 'code' that he knew his brother had never managed to learn. In fact, as far as Ric knew, Mar was might not even be aware that Ric had learned to write in shorthand. For some reason, Ric had always felt... somewhat secretive about it, as if it was the one thing that was just for himself, without sharing with his twin.
His latest entry described his near escape from a month ago, detailing his encounter with Lord Veranis in the dungeon. That was about the most interesting thing to have happened in all the time he had been trapped here, aside from the things Merilda had told him. There had been nothing much to write about, since then. He read over it carefully, sighing softly to himself as he concluded the read, and then closed the stack of papers, which were bound together with string. This is what served as his new journal. It had taken him a couple of weeks to bring his records back up to this point, as well as he could remember it. And yet, the former lieutenant wondered how much good any of it actually was. After all.. who would ever get a chance to look at it? How many people would even bother translating it? And, he also realized, if anyone did, they might just think he made it all up to try and clear himself. If they even bothered to translate it. Or, suppose Mar got ahold of it.. and burned it all. It seemed absolutely hopeless and pointless. Yet, here he was, spending his time doing this. Sighing, he dropped his head in his hands and closed his eyes. This was.. a nightmare. He had to get out of here!
And not just for himself, either. Ric lifted his head slightly, shifting his hands to rest under his chin, supported by his elbows on the desk. He had promised Lord Veranis he would try and get help. He had also once promised Alyssa that he would try to locate her sister, and help her somehow, though he didn't really know how to go about that. Still, he did not intend to go back on either promise, even if he had been hindered from it so far. Not just for Lord Veranis, nor even for Alyssa, nor her sister.. but also, for Reilly. Ric had plenty of
reasons to fulfill his promises, but hardly any means to do so.
This was also not the first time he had found his thoughts lingering on that subject. Getting up from the chair, he paced the room, thinking about a plan he had been devising lately. He couldn’t think of any other way to manage an escape, but he had some hope that this one would work. But the question was.. was the time right? If he tried it now, and it failed, then he felt sure he would never get another chance, unless he could come up with some other sort of plan, even more desperate and unlikely. But was any time more ‘right’ than another? He frowned as he pondered this question for the umpteenth time.
After a little while, he turned to look out of the window. They had sealed off the balcony door, so that although he could see outside, he could no longer open it and get fresh air, let alone step outside, lest he try climbing again or some other wild scheme. Yet, as disappointing as that was, Ric frequently reminded himself how much better off he was than the other prisoner of this castle. Lord Veranis had not seen daylight, nor breathed fresh air, in.. he wasn’t sure how many years. He had been starved, tortured, kept restrained in such a manner that he couldn't even keep his muscles active, and who knows what else...
Rather than dwell on that, Ric brought his thoughts back to his plan of escape. It was the sealing of the door that had first sparked his idea. When he returned to his quarters that day, he had been dismayed to find the door inaccessible. Before he’d had a chance to ask Thinion, ‘what if there’s a fire or something?’ the man had been gone and the guards posted outside his door refused to speak to him. But he had dwelt on that thought, idly, for some time before deciding that perhaps he could use that somehow to his advantage.
As Ric stood looking out of the window which did not open anymore, he suddenly pressed closer, looking with intrigue down at the scene below. Was that a carriage he saw there in the distance, moving slowly up the winding road? This wing of the castle was very high up and situated near the edge of a cliff, with a sheer drop down to the bottom. He could see for a very long distance, although most of his view consisted of nothing more than forested land on rolling hills going down the mountain, stretching out as far as the Anduin. Beyond that, more woods, and eventually, fading to appear almost as a misty haze on the horizon, a glint which he liked to believe was the Tower of Ecthelion. Minas Tirith. He had gazed at it often, thinking of the people he knew, like Miss Korsey, and wondering what they must think of him, if they were searching for him, and if he was considered a criminal. He had thought many times about the way he had left town, and he could certainly understand how they might have perceived his abrupt departure, and the timing of it. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to return there, and that made him very sad. Ironic, considering the many times he had put in requests to be transferred to another town to get away from the city where so many people hated him.
But today, his gaze was focused closer than that; to the road that wound up the mountainside to the castle which was his prison. He peered intently down, trying not to feel too hopeful. Usually, the only folk who came around here merchants, coming to deliver goods here, or people with other business with the lord of the estate. They always either ignored him, or could not hear him if he called out. He was not entirely sure which, but hoped it was simply the latter.
But this… something about this looked different. It didn't have the same look as a merchant's wagon. Rather, it appeared to be a carriage of some sort, though he couldn't see much about it from this distance. But there appeared to be people riding before it, as if they were guarding the carriage. Interesting... who would be coming here? Could it be someone who might be able to help him? Perhaps.. if he could just get out of the castle, maybe.. just
maybe, he could intercept these travelers and plead for help. If nothing else, he could try and get a message through to the Himhathol estate, if the travelers seemed trustworthy enough to deliver a message. It would be tricky to get out, and he would almost certainly be pursued by those who worked for his brother, but there was a vague hope, and that was more than what he’d had before now. He clung to that with all that he had. Which meant.. the time had come to set his plan in motion.
Turning from the window, Ric gathered a few things swiftly together. It was cold outside, so he’d want his cloak. He grabbed his journal and a few other things and put them into a pillowcase, then hastily dressed in warm layers. Then he took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. He hoped this would work. Dunking a handkerchief in water, he wrung it out as well as he could, then tied that around his neck. For now, he left it dangling, damp, against his chest. Then, he dunked a blanket into the washbasin from the washroom and got it wet, wrung it out so it would be only ‘damp’, then stuffed the damp blanket up into the chimney to block it, using a fire poker to cram it in good.
Once that was done, he dug out a small stick of firewood that he had stashed away in one of his drawers. He had, only a week ago, spread a little lamp oil onto it, dampened it as well as he could, then wrapped it in a dampened napkin before hiding it away. Each day since then, he had re-moistened this so that it would be wet enough to produce a lot of smoke by the time he needed it, but not so wet as to be impossible to keep lit. It was just about right, now. Crouching down by the door, Ric held a candle close to his makeshift ‘torch’. Once a tiny flame flickered into existence on the stick, he set the candle aside, pulled up his handkerchief over his nose and mouth, and used a paper folded into fan shape, to carefully guide the smoke down toward the crack under the door. The damp stick quickly produced a great deal of smoke, and the lamp oil ensured that it would burn.
Once enough smoke had begun seeping out into the hall, Ric tossed the torch into the fireplace and began banging on the door while the smoke began to rapidly thicken in the room, now that the fireplace had claimed the torch. The damp blanket effectively blocked the chimney and produced even more smoke. “HELP! Fire!” He yelled to the guards on the other side. He knew they were there, and he knew they would hear him. It was a gamble on his part, but Ric was desperate. “Help, I’m suffocating in here!” He covered his mouth with his hand to press the damp cloth closer, trying to sell this act as well as he could. He began coughing a bit, and that was no act. The smoke was actually getting much worse. But he kept banging on the door and called out for help until he heard the key turning, and one of the guards ordered him to stand back.
Ric swiftly stepped off to one side of the door, and waited, struggling to suppress the need to cough. His heart was racing, praying this was going to work. The door opened, and one of the guards stepped in while the other remained by the door, both coughing as the smoke poured out into the hallway. It had gotten very thick in the room, making it very hard to see anything. Ric’s eyes were stinging, and he figured theirs were, too.
“Where is he?” One asked the other, trying to fan the smoke away. “I can’t see anything in all this,” He covered his mouth with his arm, coughing as he used the other to try and fan some of the smoke away as he ventured further in.
“I can’t even see the source of the fire,” The other replied, coughing as well.
“Where are you, prisoner?” The guard inside the room demanded. “Do you think he passed out?” He asked his partner, concerned about getting in trouble.
"He was banging on the door a moment ago," The other reminded him, coughing as he moved stepped in a little to try and see if Ric might be lying there behind the door. If the guy died on their watch, they’d be in big trouble. They had orders to keep him in good health, after all.
The guard by the door suddenly hit the ground as Ric grabbed him and pulled him around one side of him, while at the same time, his leg swept out from the thick smoke and caught the guard around his own leg. Before the guard could call out to his partner, Ric fled from the room and grabbed the doorknob. To his surprise and delight, he saw that they had left the key in the lock! He almost couldn’t believe his luck, but he didn’t celebrate just yet. He stopped in the doorway. “I’m here,” He answered, a bit hoarsely as the other guy spun around, startled.
“You’ll want to take the damp blanket out of the chimney, and get a window open.” Ric informed him, then swiftly closed the door. He hesitated for a second, but told himself the smoke would clear up very quickly once they did as he suggested. In any case, he was desperate, and so he turned the key in the lock and prayed that he was not condemning the two men to die of smoke inhalation.
Their protests reached him instantly, and he was not a second too soon with locking the door. They started banging on it, as well.
“Use the poker and pull out the blockage!” Ric called, hoping they’d follow his suggestion. “Break a window if you have to.” He added a further suggestion. He heard the guards cursing in anger at him. Ric waited a moment, growing anxious until he heard the sound of glass breaking. Good. He felt less guilty then as he turned and hurried down the hallway. They would be alright. He told himself that repeatedly as he took a few turns down the hall, trying to find his way out. Now, he just had to find a way out to the gate, and hope that he wouldn't get stopped before he could try and get help from the carriage people.
Ric had, during the past few weeks, tried to compose a map of the halls, as well as he could remember them. He had gone over his memory of the previous escape attempt, and had tried to remember every turn he’d made. Of course, he had been on the level below this one, but he’d tried to account for that. He’d also tried to remember the path that he took when following Thinnion back up here, when he had thought he was going to the study. Still, with so many turns and hallways and such in this vast castle comprised of four different wings and multiple levels, he found it difficult to remember everything. Therefore, it wasn’t long before he was feeling quite lost again, although he continued trying to make his way toward the front wing of the castle. Toward the exit.
Hearing voices.. Thinnion’s voice, at that! coming from around the bend, Ric hastened toward the nearest door. Thankfully, it was not locked. He slipped in and stood very still. The room was dark, but a sliver of light came in through the heavy drapes covering the window. Eyes straining in the darkness, Ric stepped forward carefully as he made his way toward the window. He drew apart the heavy, velvet curtains to take a look outside, then turned to see where he was. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t.
At the back of the room stood a gruesome altar, built of.. bones. Human bones, by the look of them. Human skulls lined a shelf above the altar. Ric even recognized small, infant bones and skulls mingling with the rest. Dried blood stained the small dais where the gruesome altar was constructed, flowing down toward the center of the floor, where a grate covered a hole that he realized must lead into a sewer. The carpet on the dais was dry, but it was the color of dried blood, and it looked as if it had not always been so. There was dried blood splattered across the walls. In the center of the wall, behind the Altar, the blood had been used to paint the shape of The Eye. There were many candles, though none of them were lit, surrounding the altar. Although it appeared that the altar had not been put to use in months, the entire scene was horrific, shocking, and.. sickening.
Ric felt his stomach twist up in disgust and repulsion. He covered his mouth with a hand, fighting the gagging instinct. His head swam and vision spun as he staggered in an effort to reach the door and escape this room as quickly as possible.
Ric’s ears were ringing as he awakened, slowly. He groaned softly, trying to find his bearings through a feeling of disorientation. As his eyes opened, he blinked in confusion to find himself lying on the stone floor. What was he doing down here? He dimly recalled, as if in a dream, the scene of the altar and bones and everything. Closing his eyes tightly, Ric tried his best to put the images out of his mind, and slowly found his way onto his knees. With his stomach feeling queasy just at the memory of the sight, and the side of his face stinging a bit from hitting the stone floor, he crawled blindly forward until he found the door, groping for the doorknob as he pulled himself to his feet. Desperately, he fumbled with the knob before finally getting it open, then hastily slipped out and closed the door firmly behind him, not even caring at the moment, if anyone saw him. Pressing his back to the wall, he took several slow, deep breaths, feeling a little shaky. Finally, he opened his eyes. He had no idea how much time had passed. He saw no sign of Thinnion, but he decided he’d rather be caught and locked back up before going back into
that room again.
Why would his brother have a room like that? An alter made of bones!? Blood everywhere… He shuddered at the horror of that memory, and let out a slow breath. Remembering the Eye pictured on the wall. The implications of
that were.. highly disturbing. Somehow, though, he wasn’t really
surprised. As if he’d already known in his heart, somehow, and this only confirmed that suspicion. Yet… it did sadden him tremendously. He rested the back of his head against the wall, feeling tears prick in his eyes. But he fought them. “Why, Mar?” He whispered sadly. “Why would you do this?” He shook his head, sighing.
One thing he had realized, at least, was that he must be on the ground floor by now. He’d traversed several sets of stairs while trying to find his way out, always working his way downward, but he’d not realized until now that he was at the lowest level. The grate in the floor meant that there were no other floors beneath them, right? That brought hope. With his hope renewed somewhat, Ric set out to find an exit.
As he came around a corner, he suddenly came face to face with a guard, dressed in the livery of house Ansellidus, patrolling the hallways. The man looked startled, and Ric felt startled. But he was growing desperate, and determined not to be locked up again. He had to get out and get help for Lord Veranis! Not to mention, returning to his original goal of apprehending his brother. “Report, guard!” He demanded, using his best impression of his father. The former guard captain had been very demanding and stern.
The guard’s eyes widened a bit as he hastily came to attention. “My lord. All is quiet in this wing. I came on duty half an hour ago, and have completed half of my hourly patrol, sir.”
“Go on about it, then.” Ric dismissed the man with an impatient wave, hoping he was doing a bit better job of this than he’d done, before.
As the guard saluted went to go on about his way, Ric saw him pause and tilt his head in puzzlement. He knew he’d been caught. Without wasting a moment, Ric turned just in time to knock aside the hand that had been reaching for him.
“You are the imposter!” The guard announced, but he had no time to make a better announcement that might draw forth his fellow guards. Ric employed a move once taught to him by his best friend. As he had been trapped up in his gilded cage for so long with so little to do, he had spent a lot of that time in practicing his skills in fighting as well as he could. He only hoped he could pull it off against this man, who no doubt trained against other people, rather than imaginary ones. They struggled for a moment before Ric was able to use the man’s own force and weight against him, and he ended up pinned on the ground.
Ric left the man in a broom closet, bound and gagged. A maid or someone would come along sooner or later, he guessed, since the broom closet looked like one that was frequented. The guard’s armor and uniform, however, he took with him, and he left the man with an apology for leaving him in such a state, but he explained that he simply had to get away from this place.
Cautiously slipping into a nearby empty room, Ric was relieved that it contained no gory altars or anything of the sort. He swiftly changed into the guard uniform, which fit him well enough, and then he placed the helmet over his head. Yes… that would help him tremendously. Setting off at a leisurely pace, he acted as if he were simply patrolling the hallways as he continued searching for the way out, feeling both hopeful of being successful, and guilty for the way he had achieved his success so far. If he ever got out of this, he would try to do something to properly apologize to the guards, who he knew were only doing their job. But for now… he had to figure out how to get out of this place.
He had no idea how long he had been seeking for a way out, but at last, he had found it. He’d made his way into a servant’s stairway, and from there, he was able to escape into a courtyard. Outside! He paused as he stepped out into the daylight at long last. The air was cold, more so because the castle was located high in the mountains. Now that he was outside, he just had to find the way to the front gate. He knew that from the village, there was a winding road that led up the mountainside, passing a few narrow off-branches and paths that lead toward a few mines owned and maintained by the Ansellidus family. But the main road went beyond these, until eventually, the road split. One way continued up a few sets of steps, all the way to the front gate. The other way went up the mountain a bit higher until it was level with the castle, then a solid stone bridge spanned the gap between the two peaks, and thus enabled a rider or wagon to bypass the steps and cross over on a sturdy, level surface, if the guards there allowed them through.
Ric had traveled that path often enough to know the way without any trouble. But how could he get through the gate? Would his disguise be enough? He frowned as he considered that vital step. That was the one thing he had not yet considered. In fact, he realized that a part of him hadn’t really believed he would be getting out of the castle at all, until just now when he did. So, maybe it could be possible. But first… he had to find his way to the right courtyard. The castle was divided into four wings, forming a four-point star if one looked at it from a bird’s flight. Which wing was he in? Each one had its own courtyard, he’d come to realize, and he knew that this was not the one which contained Alyssa’s garden. He had so frequently visited her there, he would recognize it.
After wandering around for a while, Ric caught his breath as another guard approached him. Was he about to be discovered?
“Where’re you assigned to be?” The man asked, looking a bit amused.
Ric paused, then gave a slightly nervous laugh. “Is it so obvious that I’m lost?” He asked with a slightly awkward smile.
“Yeah, pretty much.” The man smirked. “You new here?”
“Uh… yes.” Ric cleared his throat. “I uhh,” He paused. This was a perfect opportunity! “I’m supposed to be relieving.. someone.. on the gate. The front one, that is.” He desperately hoped that he wasn’t about to get caught out for lying.
“Ahh, a new guard?” The man looked a bit pleased. “Good. We could use some more men. Follow me.”
Ric managed a weak smile. “Right.” He agreed, then followed the other man. Hope began to build up in his chest. At last, he had a real chance of getting out of here. He was so close…
As the two approached the gate, Ric had to rein in his excitement with much effort. Escape was in sight. If only he had his horse… but the stable was way over there. He wondered, if he successfully managed to relieve the man currently guarding the gate, could he sneak over to the stable and get Lady, then just… ride off? Could this really be that easy?
Of course, there was another guard at the other end of the bridge. This might be harder than he thought. Of course, the bridge was long enough that maybe, if this fellow would leave, maybe he could get rid of the guard at this gate, retrieve Lady, and then ride across and hope that the guard there wouldn’t question it. His boots crunched in the snow as he and the other man approached the gate on the near side of the bridge, and Ric thought about how he was going to get past them. He tried not to look as anxious as he felt. Was it even the right time to relieve the guy?
“Hey, Hankins, got a trainee for you.” The other guard declared as the man on gate duty looked over at them.
“Afternoon, Sergeant Bays.” Hankins replied, then raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He eyed Ric thoughtfully. “I hadn’t heard anything about a new guy.”
“Well, I found him wandering around, lost.” Bays shrugged. “Says he’s supposed to relieve you, but I figure he meant that he’s supposed to come
train with you for a while. I know your shift isn’t over for a couple more hours, so..” He waved for Ric to come over. “Come on, man. Time to report for duty. Give us your name.”
Ric stood at attention, recalling his training period from his actual job. And then he realized that he needed to give a name. Shoot. What name? He thought swiftly. “A-ndy,” He swiftly changed from where he was about to say something that began with ‘Ad’, and then turned his thoughts toward the last name, which would also be required. “..Rullos.” It sounded lame, he realized, as soon as he said it. But he couldn’t change it, now.
“Reporting for duty, sir.” He saluted as a guard ought to.
“You seem nervous, Rullos.” The older man observed, looking intently at him.
“Just.. first day jitters, sir. Sorry.” Ric offered a weak smile.
“Right.” Hankins motioned for him to come into the gatehouse. “Well, come in out of the cold. We’ve got a brazier in here to keep the chill out, at least. Let me show you the ropes, eh?”
Ric nodded and moved closer, although still a bit reluctantly. He hung back from entering the gatehouse, however.
“What’s that you got there?” Hankins nodded to the bundle in the sack Ric was clutching down by his side.
“Oh.. just my lunch.” He smiled slightly. “I just… I wasn’t sure how much I’d need. And, some extra layers of clothing… in case it’s colder than I expected,” He added, trying to make a reasonable excuse for why he carried such a bundle.
Hankins chuckled in amusement. “You get used to the cold, being out here everyday, and you’ll learn how to keep warm. Come on in here, it’s warmer.”
Ric hesitated, feeling a sense of warning which he could not explain. “Actually, sir…” He fidgeted. “I believe I was supposed to report to the other gate,” He nodded down the bridge. “That one.”
Hankins studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “No one starts on that end, recruit. You start here.”
“Oh.. really?” Ric tried not to look disappointed, and instead tried his best to look like a slightly confused new guy. “I guess I misunderstood..”
“Who gave you your orders, Rullos? Where are your assignment papers?”
Ric blinked. Papers… shoot. He’d hoped that wouldn’t come up. “Oh.. was I supposed to bring them?” He asked, thinking fast, feeling as if this situation was spiralling out of his grasp.
Hankins made eye contact with Bays, who was still standing behind Ric, and then looked back at him. “Nevermind, don’t worry about it.” He seemed to dismiss the matter. “Here, sign in on the timesheet, and we’ll begin your training,” He motioned for Ric to come inside.
Ric glanced back as he sensed a shift in attitude occurring between the two guards. They knew. They were trying to trick him into coming inside, so they could apprehend him more easily. He noticed that Bays had shifted his stance, and looked ready to fight. Looking back forward at Hankins, Ric noticed that he also looked ready for some sort of action. Ric made no move to go inside.
“Alright, let’s drop the act, shall we?” Hankins spoke up, resting a hand on his sword. “I got a report about an hour ago, that a prisoner had escaped and might be trying to impersonate someone…” He smirked. “I figured you’d try and make us believe you were
Lord Ansellidus, but I’ll admit, posing as a new guard was smart. If I didn’t happen to know that there haven’t been any new hires… I might have fallen for it.”
Ric swallowed, glancing back at Bays.
The sergeant looked a bit surprised by this news, but his expression hardened as he also reached for his weapon. “Will you come quietly, or will we have to get rough?” He asked, sounding pretty confident that the two of them had Ric trapped between them.
Ric let out a breath as his shoulders dropped. He let his head droop slightly in defeat. “I’m sorry,” He muttered. “I know you’re only doing your jobs… and I can’t blame you for that. I suppose I would do the same, in your place.”
As Bays reached to grab his arm, so as to restrain him, Ric swiftly pivoted and sidestepped in such a way that it effectively put Bays and Hankins together on one side, while Ric ended up facing them. He drew his borrowed sword, backing away as he pointed it at them. “But I cannot let you lock me back up,” he added, feeling desperation push him to do things he would not normally do. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
Bays drew his own sword, anger crossing his face.
“Wait, Bays,” Hankins said swiftly. “The lord has made it very clear that
this prisoner is not to be harmed in any way.” He muttered, making Bays hesitate.
Ric took advantage of that brief hesitation, and took off running along the bridge. The stones were slippery with ice, and he had several instances of nearly falling down, but fortunately, it was wide enough for a wagon or carriage to cross, so he had little need to worry about falling over the edge, at least.
With Bays giving chase, Ric rushed as fast as he could across the bridge. The cold air burned in his lungs. His breath puffed out in little white clouds, and his boots kept slipping this way and that, hindering his ability to run. But so did Bays’ boots, so they were equal on that. Ric had spent a good deal of time as a child, running from the children who held grudges against Mar, and so he had learned to run rather swiftly when he had to. Of course, that had been years ago, but he had been one of the fastest runners in his whole training group, back in guard training. He’d regularly kept up that practice, and Bays’ stomach was rather large. Ric soon began to gain on him, to his relief. But what about the other gate?
“Stop him!” Bays yelled, as soon as he was within hearing of the far gate. “Prisoner.. escaping!” He huffed and puffed as he ran.
Ric cast his gaze around, searching for someway that he could get past the guard. There was a wrought-iron gate across the entrance of the bridge, to prevent anyone from crossing without permission. He watched another guard come out from the gatehouse and start toward them. He kept running, determined to get past that gate. As the man tried to grab him, Ric ducked and successfully avoided his grasp! Adrenaline was racing. He leaped up at the gate, trying to catch the upper part in hopes that he could manage to pull himself over before they caught up to him. He found it more difficult than he expected, however. The metal was cold on his hands, and his foot slipped, as he discovered that the gate was coated in a thin layer of ice. The other guard grabbed his legs and yanked. Ric yelped in dismay as he was unable to hang on, and hit the ground, his sword clattering to the stones beside him.
The other guard tried to pin him, but Ric struggled, trying desperately to get free. They wrestled for a moment.
Bays arrived while the two were struggling, gasping for breath. “Don’t...” He warned the other hastily, just as he was about to punch Ric’s face after yanking his helmet off.
The guard froze with his arm drawn back, looking up at Bays, then at Ric. He looked confused. “Wait… is this..?”
“No, he’s an imposter,” Bays explained, shaking his head as he leaned against the gate, catching his breath. “Lord Ansellidus hasn’t been here in months. This prisoner has escaped… But we’ve got strict orders.. from Lord Ansellidus.. not to harm him.” Bays explained...” He added. “The lord’ll have your head, if you do.”
Ric lay on the ground, pinned under the guard who was practically sitting on his chest, breathing a bit harder, too. He took the moment as a brief respite, letting his head rest against the cold stones of the pavement. Thinking. Catching his breath. And… noticing that the gate guard’s key ring was right there within reach. Did he dare? While the gate guard looked rather confused by the fact that he looked so much like their lord, Ric quietly unhooked the keyring from his belt, heart pounding. Would he notice? He seemed too focused on trying to make sense of this.
Ric waited a few seconds longer while the two discussed what to do next, until it seemed that the man had relaxed a bit. Then he suddenly lurched his torso upward so that the man was thrown off balance, grabbed his leg and shoved him off to one side, and scrambled to his feet, snatching the sword up as he did. He saw two more guards coming across the bridge, probably sent by Hankins, and held back a sigh. He held up his sword, backing up to the gate. “I don’t want to have to harm either of you,” He warned. “But I must get out of this place, and find my brother.” He frowned. “Now, unlock this gate, or-”
“Someone’s coming!” Sergeant Bays tensed as he alerted the others, looking over the edge of the bridge where a small portion of the road was visible, down the road some distance. There was a wagon climbing the path up the mountain. They were not yet near enough to see anything going on here on the bridge, the men deemed, but they would be, soon. They needed to get this prisoner dealt with, before then.
Ric paused, his gaze flicking down to the road below as he also glimpsed the approaching travelers while they rounded a curve in the road, lower down the mountain. A carriage. That must be what he had seen from his window! He felt a surge of hope. Maybe, if he could just stall long enough… he’d have help. If the approaching carriage turned out to be someone who would take his side, that is. A nagging concern also tugged at him. What if it was Mar, returning after all these months? In a way, that
could be helpful to Ric, but in another way, it could be bad. These men would, of course, take Mar’s side. They would do whatever he ordered. They were his subjects, after all. They followed his orders, even when those orders went against whatever consciences they might have. The carriage passed out of sight before he could take a good look at them. Judging from his own experiences, it would be still a few minutes before they reached the bridge. He had to try and delay that long, then. “Unlock the gate.” He ordered the gate guard, whose name he didn’t know.
“You don’t give orders here, prisoner.” The man sneered, drawing his own weapon.
Bays hesitated, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Don’t harm him,” He muttered under his breath, to the other.
Ric hesitated, realizing he had no leverage here. They had no reason to listen to him, and he was unwilling to give them any reason, such as taking one of them hostage, or threatening to hurt one of them. He wouldn’t do that.
“Surrender now, or-”
“You have orders not to harm me,” Ric reminded him calmly, relieved to know that, at least. So whatever threat the man had been about to make, was never finished. The guards tried to surround him. He looked around, realizing he was outnumbered, and tried not to let despair take hold of him. There was still the chance that the approaching wagon may be someone who could help him.
They began moving into a tighter circle to close in around him, then one of them lunged forward to try and grab him. Ric and the guard struggled for a moment, and he ended up relinquishing his sword, so not to risk hurting anyone, then he struck out with a kick and dodged as another man grabbed for him. He saw an opportunity… a bit of a long shot, but he took it. The man he had just dodged had slipped on some ice, and ended up on his hands and knees by the gate. Ric hastily leaped up onto his back and then launched himself upward at the gate, this time managing to catch onto the stonework framing, to which the iron was attached on either side, and then managed to swing himself over. Without a sword in hand, or hanging at his side, weighing him down, he managed it more easily than before.
“After him!” The men yelled, scrambling to hastily unlock the gate, only to realize that his key was missing. The man closest to the gate hastily reached through the bars to try and catch Ric and managed to grab hold of the scabbard at his side, stopping him from getting away. Ric briefly struggled with the guy through the bars, then he managed to unbuckle the weapon belt from his waist. He took off running down the road as fast as he dared, leaving the guard with the empty scabbard while Ric got away, slipping and sliding now and then.
The guards’ outraged voices faded as he rounded the first bend in the path. Surely, Bays or someone would surely have a backup set of keys, so the delay in getting the gate open wouldn’t buy him much time. But it might be enough. Hopefully, he would meet up with the carriage soon, and gain some assistance from them. Hopefully, they would be friends, not foes. Hopefully, they would be able to do something to assist Lord Veranis. He realized that he was putting a lot of hope into this... but he had to give it a try and hope for the best. Who knows, perhaps the Valar had sent someone to answer his prayers, at long last?
(Continued
here)
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