Entry #268420, added on 07-04-04 @ 4:06 pm EDT
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| Prisoners of the tower | Entry #268420 |
Rugo’s jaw dropped as he came to realize how Taan knew so much about Sumandir and Lamnos’ business. Yet he didn’t understand what Akkon had meant about putting them with Felraic.
“What’s happening up there, Rugo?” Cerine whispered from below.
He joined Cerine and Landon at the foot of the stairs in the entry hall with a disapproving frown as he put his finger to his lips. Putting his hands on his friends’ shoulders, he led them away from the stairs so that their voices wouldn’t be heard above. His face was red and muscles tense as he stood and looked back to see if they were coming. “Taan’s the real traitor,” he growled. “He’s talking with one of Lamnos’ men now, telling him that he brought us.”
Rugo sighed as he wondered how this could have happened, and if there was anything they could do to avoid becoming prisoners. He ran his hand along the handle of his sword, his thoughts turning to stabbing Taan in the back as he had stabbed him and his friends.
“That snake! I knew I had a good reason not to trust him,” Cerine groaned, her mouth slacked and eyebrows high up.
Taan and Akkon’s voices became clearer; they were coming down after them. Cerine looked up at the stairs and readied her spear. “What are we going to do? We can’t give ourselves up, not after coming this far.”
Rugo shook his head. “We’re not giving up. I’m going to fight!” He drew his sword and stood by the stairwell, in a patch of darkness out of the light of the torches, and out of sight of anyone coming down. There was not enough time for Cerine and Landon to hide.
“Cerine, over there! Landon, you too,” he hissed, pointing to the center of the room. “Distract him while I attack from the rear.”
His friends nodded as they followed his instructions. They stood near the front doors, as if they were planning on escaping.
Taan was the first to appear, moving down the stairs more quickly than the much larger warrior. His malicious grin folded the fat in his face, and his eyes glinted with evil intent. “Where do you think you’re going? There’s no escaping from here, children.” Taan tried to be casual but the glee in his voice betrayed him.
In the shadows behind the stairwell, Rugo tensed as the traitor came within striking distance. Taan took one more step; it proved to be his last. Rugo swept forward like a viper, blade flashing in the torchlight. Taan turned at the last moment, alerted by the blur of movement. His mouth opened to scream and he raised his had as if to beg for mercy.
The blade sliced through the man’s shoulder and cleaved him clean in two. Blood sprayed out to cover Rugo’s face and hands—hot, sticky, and sweet. Rugo staggered back into the shadows with a gasp in dismay, nausea threatening to double him over. He had made his first real kill. In his dream, he merciless slaughtered barbarians without remorse, but somehow the real thing seemed different.
Cerine and Landon made to run to him, but he stayed them with a wave of his hand. He couldn’t falter now. The real enemy was still coming.
“Taan?” Akkon’s rough voice called from upstairs.
“Half a moment,” Rugo muttered sarcastically to himself.
Now he waited impatiently for Akkon. He wondered why Akkon’s descent was delayed, expecting the warrior to be right behind Taan. Close enough to hear his dying breath.
Akkon slowly descended the stairs, disturbed by Taan’s silence from below. There had been no word or signal from him, for the swift blow from Rugo had gone unheard to his ears. His footsteps fell heavy on the creaky stairs, making it easy for Rugo to track his descent. He hid himself again.
“What be going on down here?” the hefty warrior called out, scanning the room. He drew his scimitar. Akkon didn’t see the fallen body of Taan until he almost tripped over it at the foot of the stairs.
Rugo flexed his fingers to ready himself as Akkon bent to examine the body. The warrior must have noticed the stab wound in Taan’s back, wincing as he drew himself to his feet again. “What in blazes?” he grunted as he looked around, almost stupefied.
However, Akkon wasn’t the mindless hulk of brawn Rugo had assumed he was. He had heard the young man’s slight movement in the dark, and knew that his sword was drawn. His own blade was already there when Rugo made his strike.
“The work of an amateur,” Akkon said as the clang of swords rang out in the tower. “Taan was easy because he was unarmed. But you won’t find me so easy.”
Rugo huffed through clenched teeth and attempted three more attacks, swinging his broadsword in a series of moves taught by his father. However, Akkon was quick to recognize the pattern, and deflected each blow.
He laughed, taunting the young swordsman. “Is that the best you can do? Your teacher must have been weak.” Akkon made an attack of his own, a heavy sweep near Rugo’s chest which almost caught him off-guard. Rugo had been pressed against the wall in defense, and two statues of strange creatures gave him little room for a chance of escape.
One of Marton’s lessons came to mind, about being cornered by an opponent. There was little time to contemplate the exact motion that would turn the tables, and if done correctly, disarm Akkon. Instead, he improvised and leapt at him with his sword flashing in the air.
An experienced warrior like Akkon knew this to be a foolish move, and he brushed the attacked aside like an assault from a rather vengeful moth. He showed his contempt to Rugo with a slash to the gut. The curved blade struck Rugo’s leather mantle underneath his tunic, leaving a heavy gash.
Rugo screamed. He had never felt such pain before. The dulled blades of practice swords never cut flesh. His wound stung and throbbed, and he fell to his knees to regain himself.
Akkon’s towering form hovered over Rugo. He could see in the warrior’s cold, piercing eyes that he was calculating his next move. He felt like the prey of a fierce lion, which was toying with out him of enjoyment before delivering the final blow. And he knew Akkon was savoring every moment.
Sumandir was no place for an apprentice swordsman like himself. He wished the ring would instill some confidence in him as it had before, a thought shared by Cerine as she watched him from the shadows.
He then remembered his dream, the words of his father echoing in his mind. “You have the blood of a warrior, my blood, running through you. Just remember never to give up.” His heart swelled in his chest as he slowly rose to his feet. Akkon was wrong about his teacher being weak. He knew his father was strong and brave, a fitting guide for a would-be swordsman. Even Rugo didn’t know how he found the new surge of strength, but he didn’t question it.
Taking a deep breath, he charged again at the warrior, first faking a low sweep from the left side of his body, and then making an unexpected and undefended slash from the right, down onto Akkon’s neck.
“No!”
The sword flashed, Akkon’s head flew. The body crumpled into the ground with a wet thump.
“Rugo, you did it!” Cerine jumped out from her hiding place behind another of the statues and ran over to Rugo. She smiled as she threw her arms around his neck.
Rugo blushed, returned the hug, still trying to catch his breath. The cut in his stomach still ached, but the bleeding hadn’t completely stopped. Fortunately it wasn’t too deep of a wound. He would live.
Landon joined his friends and gave Rugo a smile. “You’re bleeding!” He tore off and folded up a piece of his old clothes still in his backpack to make a bandage for him.
After the relief and satisfaction of his victory had worn off, Rugo turned his attention back to the fallen Taan and Akkon. The warrior wore a ring of keys from his belt. Rugo retrieved the key ring and attached it to own belt.
Landon looked at the keys curiously. “Do you think they could open some treasure chests higher up in the tower?”
“You never know.” Rugo shrugged.
The three made their way up the stairs again, to the level above Lamnos’ sleeping chambers and into a hallway that extended the whole length of the tower. Four wooden doors lined each side of the hallway. Each door had a small barred window in the center of it, and was locked with a heavy padlock. Rugo guessed the keys opened the locks. He wondered what secrets Lamnos kept beyond the doors.
He peered through the bars of the window of the closest door. The room on the other side was arranged like a prison cell, with a pile of rags in the far corner to form a makeshift bed. Manacles were chained to a wall, but were unoccupied. Rugo unlocked the padlock and pulled the door open. A skeleton, which had apparently been leaning against it, collapsed at his feet. Whoever this was must have been pleading for his freedom before he died, Rugo thought as he noticed the bony fingers still closed into fists and the jaw fixed open.
The next several rooms as they proceeded down the hall followed the same pattern, vacant with a skeleton in some position of anguish or suffering. One of the last, the one on the right, apparently was occupied, as a faint moaning could be heard on the other side of the door.
Rugo looked through the window and saw a man curled upon the pile of cloth. He was and old man, haggard and worn, but may have had some strength in his younger days. At the same time, something in the man’s eyes didn’t seem as old as he looked, as if something had consumed him.
The man startled at the click of the lock, and he quickly rose and backed against the wall in a defensive pose as Rugo slowly opened the door. “Lamnos changed the guard again, I see,” the man spoke, in a gruff, robust voice, the same one they had heard when they were hiding in Amarest.
“I’m Rugo, and I’m not any minion of Lamnos. I don’t know what led to your imprisonment here, but you are now free.” Rugo stepped aside from the door and gestured for him to exit. The man hesitated for a moment, but slowly walked out, keeping his eye on Rugo to make sure this wasn’t a trick.
“Thank you, son. My name is Lord Felraic of Amarest, and I’m in your debt.”
The three companions all gaped. They weren’t sure whether to doubt their decision to save the so-called traitor, or to believe that he was even a traitor at all. Despite his rugged appearance, the smile Felraic gave them was not one of someone who would betray them. Though they had been betrayed before.
They all gave him incredulous looks.
“You look like you’re surprised, and I’m sure I can guess why.” Felraic cleared his throat. “Taan had told you I was the one in league with Lamnos, and that Amarest was under my foul tyranny.” Rugo exchanged looks with his friends and nodded. “Let me explain the real story to you, from the beginning.” Felraic gestured for them to sit on the makeshift pallet in his cell. |
© Copyright 2004 Mark C Bradley (UN: auric at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Mark C Bradley has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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