Near the Kantara Palace, Central Street which Kantara Towered over, held a bonfire of sorts. Soldiers threw the fresh carcasses of rioters on top of their fellow rioters charred remains still smoldering with flame. The stench bellowed in the air like smog. Leading the effort was a legend among the Arkin ranks. Commander Aldous Hein. A hero to the people of Armanster. For his efforts to push back western attackers trying to take the town during the War of the Divide.
He was an older man, not so much in his prime as he once was. He held a sunken face and a less than kept up uniform. His deep green eyes looked as though he was perpetually tired and had seen everything you could in his line of work. Hein was distinguished, but to many of the Arkin soldiers he was a dog past his prime. The young Tiso thought so too.
A messenger approached the burning pile of bodies that the Commander stood over, watching with a unmoving gaze.
“Commander Hein, sir!” The messenger said bringing himself to attention behind the Commander.
“What is it?” Hein said not taking his eyes off the fire.
“A message from the Tiso, sir!” The messenger said holding his posture.
“Then read it.” Hein turned slowly from the fire with more of a hobble than a walk.
“Yes sir, may I be at ease sir?” The soldier asked with a slight quiver.
“I said read it didn’t I?”
“Yes sir!” The messenger took this as “at ease” and went into his pocket for the message. “Commander Aldous Hein, please at once approach the Kantara throne for a meeting with Tiso Reignly and his Advisors. Failure to approach with haste will result in treachery on your good name.”
Hein gave a deadly smirk, and a small gust of air blew from his nose, he gave a grim smile to the messenger. “Guess, someone’s gotta be on the chopping block, huh, soldier?”
The messenger stood quiet, not knowing how to respond to the old commander. Hein sighed loudly and tapped the messenger on the shoulder as he walked off, “I’ll let ‘em know you did good, just enjoy the fire, kid.” He said leaving the messenger and his troops at the corpse fire to head to the center of the city at Kantara Palace.
“I don’t wish to hear any excuses, I commanded all available soldiers to scour the city for this, this menace at once!” The young Tiso said barging into his lavish maroon carpeted throne room. Advisor Hushtone followed behind him, a small and balding man with a wobbly voice tried his best to keep up.
“Y-yes sir, I have ordered the city guards to bulk up searches around the areas surrounding Furnoon’s apartment, and outfitted the city exit with steam suited soldiers.”
“And what of the people? Have they reported any sightings?” The young Tiso questioned earnestly as the tall and gaunt faced Advisor Cullo positioned the small throne in place before the Tiso sat.
“My dear Tiso, no reports have come in so far, and if I may, the people are in fear, we may not obtain to many reports from your people too soon.” Cullo said, his voice naturally hissed with every word.
“Afraid?” Reignly said puzzled. “They have nothing to fear so long as they keep civilized.”
Hushtone began to speak up “Yes…um, but sir, they fear coming forward will-“ abruptly he cut himself off as he saw Advisor Cullo behind the Tiso quieting the small advisor with his palm up.
“My Tiso, surely the people only fear the wrath of whomever is behind this traitor. Rumors are already spreading that this paper maker did not work alone.” Cullo swiftly weaved the story into something more favorable for the Tiso’s ego.
“Yes, of course. We already suspect one.” The Tiso nodded with a finger gliding down his chin in thought.
Vaas Cullo was known rightfully in the court as The Tiso’s Silver Tongue. Tiso’s late father never truly trusted him, himself. Wilheim Reignly found him to be a calculated advisor, genius of mind, but also of tongue. Cullo always seemed to be plotting. Tiso Wilheim was planning on stripping Cullo from his Advisor role after the War of the Divide, yet Wilheim Reignly never made it home to do so, leaving Cullo with a young, impressionable, Tiso to advise.
“What of the women, have they spoken on any collusion?” The Tiso questioned still turning the gears in his head.
“No, sir. The adult seemed to know nothing of bitterness towards the Republic, and my Tiso, the children seem too young to know better.” Advisor Hushtone said with a pitiful regret on his face.
Cullo could see the Tiso’s face grow annoyed and quickly recovered Hushtone’s statement once again, “Which only shows proper Arkin education was not taught inside their home.”
Hushtone nodded along with Cullo. Advisor Hushtone typically never knew how to properly present things to the Tiso. He knew one thing though, If Advisor Cullo starts speaking, always agree with him.
“Yes, the children are a cautionary tale for our people. Maybe proper education can siphon out the rot they had at home.” Talion Reignly said, adjusting himself on his throne as the doors swung open once again.
“Ah, The Legend of Armanster himself, and my fathers most trusted soldier, Commander Aldous Hein!” The Tiso said with apathetic glee as the old Commander strolled with a careless demeanor.
“Tiso, sir! How may I help you?” The Commander asked, taking a short and improper bow.
The Tiso grinned with joy. “Mr. Hein.” The Tiso with menace on his lips. “First, I must thank you and your men for your quick action during this rioting. You have quelled much of the panic.”
“It is an honor to be recognized sir.” Hein halfheartedly bowed once again.
“Commander, you have served since the age of 15 yes, the same age as your late son, yes?” Hein did not like to remember that day, and almost bared his teeth to his ruler.
“That his correct sir.” Hein said before pressing his lips together, holding back any choice words he had. It was true the Tiso’s late father was close with the Commander. Many times, Hein wished he took Wilheim’s place. Yet the old Tiso’s son, to Aldous Hein, was an orphan brat.
Talion didn’t think much highly of the Commander either. To him the Commander was part of the old guard, and embodied everything wrong with the old Arkin Republic. Brash, stuck in their way, and sloppy.
“So, you remember all the old soldier traditions, correct?”
“Of course, Tiso.” The tired Commander said as he tried to subtly check his uniform was on right.
The Tiso waved his hand toward one of the guards standing at the throne room doors. With a nod the guard opened the large throne room doors that creaked along its rust hinges. In came two more guards dragging a limp and bloodied body along the ground. The body wore a uniform of the Arkins, yet every badge was aggressively torn from the outfit.
“I believe you served with Officer Grumsby for a time?” The Tiso coyly questioned.
The Commander nodded with his mouth slightly open, and his heart beginning to race. “Why…y-yes sir. He served below me as my lieutenant at the battle of Stone Hill, and we were stationed together with Captain Himmer at Peeking Eye toward the end of the war.” The Tiso nodded with a composed sense of joy. “Why is he here, sir?” Hein asked, at this point he could feel his stomach slowly sink lower and lower.
“The Officer claims he gave the wrong document to our traitor. By your military tradition he has failed the Arkins and put his military compatriots in unnecessary harm's way. I believe that calls for what you call The Soldiers Penance?”
“The Commanding Officer always does the honors.” Grumsby whimpered.
“I’m not his commanding officer anymore, though!” Hein said astonished.
Soldiers Penance was a brutal punishment for any higher-ranking soldier who put their fellow soldiers in harm's way unnecessarily. Typically, it was voted by either surviving soldiers or the ranks above them if it should be done. The ritual was to kneel them down away from the Commanding Officer who would take the soldiers knife from them, give them their warriors prayer and slice their throat slowly as they look in the direction of the Kantara.
“He asked for you personally to bring him penance.” Advisor Cullo chimed in.
Hein looked toward his beaten comrade. He never had to carry out the Penance before it was typically rare due to its brutal nature. Tiso Reignly must have been trying to make a point.
“Show me, you still have it in you, the ability to take action and to follow someone else’s orders, Commander.”
“Sir, this is the highest punishment in the Arkin Military.” Hein said trying to reason with the blood thirsty Tiso.
“Twenty-three guardsmen are injured due to his negligence, one hundred and sixty-seven civilians are either burned or died before the bon fires were lit, and a traitor is somewhere within the city with Arkin secrets.” Advisor Cullo said pacing behind the Tiso’s throne.
The Tiso motioned to Hushtone who quickly rushed over to a intricate desk on the other side of the room. Soon the plum shaped Advisor rushed in front of the Commander with a fine cloth covering something.
The old Commander unwrapped the cloth revealing a familiar knife. It was the same knife he used during at the battle of Stone Hill. A ornate knife with a pommel in the shape of a wolf head that had its fangs bared.
“I gave this to you.” Hein said, keeping his eyes from meeting his bloodied fellow soldier. “Give me his knife, this one was mine!” His voice raised shakily for a moment, quickly he composed himself and remembered who he was speaking to.
“That knife, was yours, but he has used it ever since. By tradition, you must use that knife.” The Tiso said enjoying the moment and knowing he enjoyed it more than he should.
“Just get it over with, I failed the Republic, I deserve this damn it!” Grumsby spat blood as he pleaded for an honorable death.
The old Commander took a moment to compose himself and gripped the blade tight. “Tradition says we look towards the Kantara, where does he look when we stand inside the Kantara?” Hein asked, his voice seemed defeated and more tired than usual.
The Tiso seemed caught off guard. Maybe because it was a decent question, maybe because he didn’t expect the old dog to give in. He stewed on the question for a moment. Finally, he found his answer and grinned a large grin. “You look toward me.”
Hein turned away from the Tiso and walked behind his old friend Grumsby. Grumsby yelped as Hein gripped his grey hairs and yanked his head toward the Tiso, opening his neck up for the cut.
“I take no pride in this, ending you like a damn dog.” Hein grunted in Grumsby’s ear. “You and Himmer were my brothers, and now you force me to do this.”
Grumsby sobbed as he stared up at the Tiso who had a glint of pleasure appearing on his face. “Say the words dammit, just let me go!”
“May the dead guide you through the shade and take you in as one. May the guilt you bear be cleansed with this act. May the living never forget your name. Officer Avar Grumsby.”
The soldiers who dragged Grumsby into the throne room rang out calling his voice in a chant before stomping their feet in unison. Again, they did, as the knife drew the blood from his neck, slicing deep. “Avar Grumsby” again they called out his name as the blood fell from his neck and soaked his already bloodied uniform. “Avar Grumsby” They called one last time, the last words he heard as he took his last bloodied, gurgled breath.
The Tiso watched as Grumsby’s eyes glazed over.
With a smile he looked up from the dead man who knelt before him and to his killer. With a satisfied sigh he spoke “Now that’s been done, it’s time to do business!” He said waving at the soldiers to carry Grumsby’s twitching corpse away. The Tiso stood up and moved toward the desk at the other end of the room. “You proved useful today, quickly quelled riots near the Kantara and east wall, proved you still have red hands. I want you to head the search for this whistleblower and whoever else is helping him.
“Sir, I…”
“Mr. Hein, if you aren’t up for it, I’ll put someone with you to help. If you don’t have what it takes to do your job, I’ll make sure someone can.” The Tiso said looking up from his desk at the grey-haired Commander as he ruffled through paperwork.
“No, sir…I’ll get right on it.”
The streets of Huxwell looked as if all-out war came and went like a storm in the night. The thoroughfare to Hogs Street laid in a lingering silence. All whom feared the Tiso’s wrath now huddled inside hoping for their city to come back to a sense of normalcy.
The only sounds that could be heard were of the flames of the corpse piles near Kantara, and the heavy footsteps of the patrolling guards hunting Tucken.
Many would say that Tucken’s luck surely had run out after everything that had happened on this day, even Tucken would have agreed, yet somehow Tucken kept finding more. He made his way over to Hogs street, bypassing makeshift checkpoints and patrolling soldiers with relative ease. It wasn’t as if he was trying too hard either. Some part of him wished he would be caught, that way, with some of his very small bits of luck left, he would see his family, at least for a moment more.
While most of the other streets were silent and filled with a sense of dread, Hogs Street was different. It was a part of Huxwell unlike the others. It was rarely patrolled by the guard, many believed it to be due to a lack of care. This was where “the expendables” lived. The dock workers, the industry men. All that could be counted as a number by the factories and warehouses. In Huxwell, this was the street of the nobodies.
Tucken stood in front of the center of the it all, staring down the only building that was alight with sounds of joy and music; the Emerald Eye Tavern.
He could hear the wails of drunkards and the sound of slurred songs. It almost seemed as if the riots never reached this area.
Tucken took a large deep breath and stepped into the boisterous tavern.
It smelled of mildew and hops, and faint smoke bellowed above everyone’s head. Tucken dodged a pair of men who threw themselves to the ground, beating each other to a pulp as the crowd laughed. Tucken put his collar up and sank his neck in trying to blind himself from the rowdy patrons.
“Whad’ya want?” Said the barkeep as Tucken approached. The balding barkeep had his eyes gazing elsewhere, watching a group of ruffians doing a jig together near the fireplace where a guitarist played old tunes.
“Um, yes sir, I am-“
“Ale, food or some other shit, whad’ya want?” The barkeep said finally turning in annoyance and revealing his scarred left side.
“Oh, no actually-“
“Ale for this, lad, and a another Twin Snake for me!” A strange man said as he wrapped an arm around Tucken’s shoulder. Tucken tensed up immediately. What he could see of the man was a scruffy beard underneath a hood, but what caught him the most was his somber green eyes, above a golden, joyful smile.
“No, please, thank you, but I, I must go actually.” Tucken said, trying to untangle himself from the strange man’s arm. “I apologize, but this was a mistake.”
“You can’t have a drink with your new friend?” The man said leaning against the bar as Tucken began heading toward the door.
Tucken stopped in his tracks. He craned his neck around back towards the hooded man with sad eyes. The man knew he had his attention now. “Come, sit down with me.”
The two sat in the back of the tavern. It was a much quieter area away from the rabble and drunken fighting. This was where deals were made. Only a table away Tucken could see bags being swapped for coin.
“It’s not nice to stare.” The hooded man said taking a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it. It smelled of honey and cinnamon. He took a large puff and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t much feel like dying today either.”
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Tucken quickly looked away from the table and back to the stranger in front of him. “I’m sorry.” He said nervously shuffling in his seat.
“So you’re the one who started all the commotion out there, huh?” The man chuckled before taking another drag.
“How did you know it was me when I walked in?”
“Look at you, no offense, but if you want to survive all this, you can’t go walking around in suit like some high born Huxwellian.” The man said with another chuckle. “Honestly, I’m amazed you got here. That’s exactly what they are looking for right now, skinny man, short hair, nice suit.”
“Who are you?” Tucken asked before the stranger could go on listing more.
“Soren Malcoy!” The man said with a hand out for a shake.
“The Wandering Wolf…” Tucken’s mouth dropped in astonishment.
Soren took his hand back and flourished creating a wonderful display with the smoke of the cigar. “Never been the biggest fan of the title, just call me Soren.”
“Tucken Furnoon.”
“A pleasure.” Soren said and took a swig of his Twin Snake while guiding Tucken to drink his ale. “Now that the pleasantries are aside, you seem to have some info I could use.”
Tucken nodded while he took a gulp of his ale, hoping it would mask his nervous energy. “Well, sir-“
“Don’t say sir.”
“Soren, I have many documents here, all detailing the Tiso’s plans.” Tucken reached into his old leather messenger bag and pulled the folder labeled Number Twenty-Three out. He handed the folder to Soren who flipped it open and rummaged through the documents intently. “All look to be in order?” Tucken said trying to keep a friendly demeanor.
“What?”
“Does it suit you?”
Soren looked up at the unassuming man in annoyance. “No this doesn’t suit me, this is the second War of The Divide drawn out in ink.”
“I meant does it help you, sir.”
Soren tucked away the papers into the folder and looked back up to Tucken. “So, here’s what needs to be done. These papers must reach the leader of the Confederacy before the Arkins have a moment to act.”
“But couldn’t they change plans before then, I mean they know I stole their documents.”
“They will, no doubt about it, but not by much. There's only so much a horde of Severosian Raiders will do beside attack everything in sight. Either way, knowing their plans will help the Confederacy plan for a attack, even if things change. These need to get to Kroy as fast as possible.” Soren had the face of someone who hit the lottery and someone who lost it all. This was damning evidence against the Arkins, but also, no matter what, meant death for many.
“Well I wish you all the luck then, Wolf!” Tucken said popping up from his chair.
“Where are you going?” Soren said bewildered.
“I don’t know, either to find a way out of this city or to turn myself in and hopefully see my family before I’m hung.” Tucken began walking toward the door, before he could make it two feet a the hand of Soren Malcoy gripped his wrist.
“Your not going anywhere near a Arkin.” Soren growled.
“I helped your cause, I’ve done my part, I’ve made their deaths worth it! I can rest easy now.”
“You ever heard of the bronze bull or Strappado, ankle bench? What happens if you break from torture?” Soren said as he stood up and smoldered the cigar in the table’s tray. “You want to make their deaths worthless?”
“Their deaths aren’t worthless.” Tucken snarled.
“Their not if you follow through.” Soren took Tucken’s arm and walked with him over to the barkeep again, he flashed toward the bartender what was left of the cigar. It was the stub of the cigar with a ring around it that held a peculiar symbol that looked to be a jagged arrow with a target at the bottom of its tail. The barkeep seemed to understand it somehow and gave Soren a nod, before walking to the back of the tavern. The barkeep reappeared and opened the door to the back of the tavern.
“Where are you taking me?” Tucken asked as he struggled out of Soren’s grasp
“We’re meeting another friend.” Soren said as he pulled Tucken along.
They walked into a back room; the smoke fog was thicker here than the tavern itself. A man sat on a worn out sofa smoking the same cigar as Soren before. This man looked younger than the barkeep, yet he had a shaved head and eyes that looked as if they were mad and encircled by black rings around them. He wore a fur coat and thick combat boots that looked to have dried red splatter on the sides or maybe it was just mud.
“Soren, god damn Malcoy!” The man laughed a terrifying and high pitch laugh. “You finally called in a favor from your old pal Ginn!”
“I’m amazed your in town, Ginn. I expected one of your associates to help, not the man himself.” Soren said taking Ginn Lockes hand before giving the man a hug.
“You know how it goes in my line of work; A Rel girl put up a lotta coin for me to help get some slaves out of the city, next thing ya know all Huxwell is going mad over some letter!” The shaved headed madman said. “Ya ask me, the damn nutcase shoulda kept his mouth shut until I left here, I’d rather be in Rellinstead eating oranges and sipping Severosian rum!”
“Sorry…that’s on me.” Tucken’s voice became mouselike. He was overwhelmed by the underworld he had stumbled his way into. First the most wanted man in the territory, now what seemed to be a smuggler of sorts hiding out behind a bar.
Ginn Locke’s head craned toward Tucken with curiosity. “You’re the…” his words stumbled as he began to catch onto the two. Soren dragged his hand across his face trying to wipe away the aggravation that was seeping out of his expression. “Oh no…No Soren!” The pieces in Ginn’s mind began to form a nasty picture.
“Ginn, please, I’ve called in this favor.” Soren tried to plea with exasperation; flaunting his dead cigar with the odd ring around it. Tucken tried to keep up, he began to feel as if he missed something important.
“It’s bad enough trying to get you out of here, but him! You must think I’m suicidal.”
“Kinda, comes with the job though, doesn’t it?”
“Soren, please. Wise cracks are one of your better features, but it’s uncouth right now.” Tucken watched the bickering pair curiously as the feeling of being unwelcome grew and kept his body more anxious than it already was. Deep down he could tell it was the only thing keeping him from falling over in tears.
The two bickered like a pair smitten with each other, yet too prideful to admit it. “I’ll tell you what’s uncouth, refusing to uphold your guilds tradition.” Soren said flicking the cigar butt towards Ginn.
Tucken could tell this was a dance they did many times, they almost seemed to enjoy it. Ginn put his hand out toward the grizzly rebel who stopped bickering instantly. Tucken assumed this was some known sign between the two stating “We’re getting nowhere, let’s clear our heads.” Soren nodded and accepted the break in debate.
“I don’t mean to be a burden, if this is not working I-“ Tucken was cut off by Ginn’s palm flying from Soren to him as he took another large gulp of his drink. This time it was very clear. After a large sigh Ginn put his glass down and slowly lowered his hand from Tucken.
“I may have a way.” Ginn muttered as he poured himself another glass. “It isn’t the safest way, but it maybe the only way to get three of us out of here alive.”
“What it is, Ginn?” Soren said, readying himself as he knew there was bad news coming, there always was with Ginn.
Ginn Locke sipped his glass slowly, being a theatric at heart he loved to let the tension bellow for a moment. “Years ago, before my time in the guild, they had tunnels that ran beneath the city, left by the ancients as some sorta maintenance tunnels. The guards found them and boarded them up after a while, but my little urchins tell me one is still open.” He his eyes darted between the growingly annoyed charmer, and the anxious well-dressed man whose eyes also rapidly moved between the smuggler and the rebel. “They tell me it sits right in the heart of the search area for our friend here.” Ginn quickly threw back his liquor preparing for the two’s reaction.
“You gotta be kidding me!” The rebel’s hands raised to the air as he paced the room.
“There is no other way?” Tucken asked hopelessly.
“If you’d prefer walking out the front gate, we can always try. Though I would prefer living another day.” Ginn said falling onto the dusty couch.
“Then it’s over, we’re stuck…” Tucken took from Ginn’s lead and fell onto a maroon armchair beside the dusty couch.
“The whistleblower gets it.” The bald smuggler smugly spoke as he toasted a cigar and puffed.
“I don’t take defeat lying down.” Soren said approaching the sofa and armchair that held the two apathetic men. “Their has to be a way.”
“The only way is either through the old smuggler tunnels, or to sit down and hide for as long as it takes.” Ginn said guiding Soren to the empty side of the couch.
“The Tiso is relentless, especially after this. Have you seen what they have done near the Kantara?” The rebel began to bark. “Bodies upon bodies burning in bonfires. They will not stop till Tucken is found!”
“If you just turned him in- “
“That’s not going to happen.” Soren shut down the notion as quick as it came from Ginn’s mouth. “We just need a distraction. Something that can drive them away from the tunnel long enough for us to slip in.” Soren was forming a plan, slowly, but something was coming together, he could feel the gaps closing, and neurons firing.
“Use the fool, here.” Ginn jested.
“Or use his old place of work!” Soren’s distraction fully developed.
“I beg your pardon?” Tucken was appalled at the complete plan Soren had retrieved from his mind. “People I care about work there, good people work there!”
“They tell lies and sent it out across the territory, Tucken.” Soren refuted.
“Thinking that they are helping ease the minds of thousands!” Tucken argued. “They have families to feed, people they care about, what will they do when their job is lost in a crumbled building? No coin to feed their children, you think the Tiso will care?”
This left Soren in thought for a moment. Aggravated thought but thought none the less. The Arkins may have been monsters, and the destruction of Tucken’s old work would have kept a lot of smear campaigns in his name from reaching the public, but it would have also destroyed some families’ only source of income.
“Then will burn your apartment instead.” Soren said finding a less aggressive alternative.
“Out of the question!” Tucken snapped back jumping from the armchair.
“They have already cleared it, burning it now will drive them back to your home and leave us enough time to get away from the city.
“That’s my home though!”
“Tucken, dear, you haven’t had a home for hours.” Ginn chimed in.
“What about Miss Sojinger, my neighbor?”
“I can make sure it’s contained to your apartment only. Nothing to big, just enough smoke to get their attention.” Soren assured Tucken, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t like this.”
“Oh, Tucken.” Ginn Locke said slowly climbing up from the couch to his feet. “Their will be many things you don’t like, soon enough.” He gave a very certain look towards Soren, who didn’t seem fazed or concerned by it, almost as if he agreed in a way.
“Ginn, you get Tucken as close as you can to the tunnel, I can get to Tucken’s apartment unseen by myself.”
“So, this is what it’s like, everyone against you, being hunted by your own people, all because you disagreed with the ones above you?” Tucken said as his eyes peeked above a wooden fence watching the soldiers stalk the streets near where Ginn had assured him the tunnel entrance was.
“Maybe for Soren, he can’t keep his nose outta Arkin business long enough for them to lose his scent. I on the other hand, understand the best place to be, is where no one can see you. You ever hear my name come up in the paper?” Ginn said, with a grin growing on his face with pride.
“How do you know Soren so well, you two seem…to have a history of sorts?”
“I may smuggle goods and fugitives across the territory for a price, but I do have some standards.” Locke explained peeking over the fence to watch a soldier pass right over the tunnel entrance. He gave a soft sigh of relief as the soldier continued on. “I have no love for Arkins, same as Soren. I just don’t go around trying to actively change what’s already been done.”
“So, you support him, you just don’t believe in his cause?”
“Chaos always brings coin with it. The more rebels he rises, the more weapons and supplies they need smuggled in.” Ginn chuckled to himself. Tucken rolled his eyes in slight disgust and also pity. He knew Ginn was lying, his words were smoke and mirrors. Ginn’s world was filled with masks and personas. The only way to survive was to act the part. It was something Ginn was accustom to and quite proficient in.
“Look, look!” He said nudging Tucken’s shoulder and aiming his finger as a plume of smoke rushed out above the skyline. “The idiot did it!”
The two watched as the Arkin soldiers rushed toward the smoke leaving the streets empty. Ginn got up and walked over to an overgrown cellar door in a alleyway across the street from the fence. “What are you doing?” Tucken said trying to keep his voice down in fear of driving the soldiers back.
“See this?” Ginn said breaking off a overgrown vine and dusting dirt from the cellar door. As the dirt crumbled and fell off a familiar symbol revealed itself. The marksmen mark with a jagged arrow. “Smugglers mark. This is it!” Ginn giddily said as a steam whistle blew from the direction of the smoke. He began to break more of the vines off and tugged at the door.
“What about Soren?”
“He’ll find his way. He’s smart enough.”
“He’s suppose to help me once we get out of here.”
“Don’t worry, ya got me, I’ll help ya!” Ginn said yanking at the door again and giving Tucken a smile.
“No you won’t.” Tucken knew better by now.
“Eh, your right. Not the savior type anyways, plus I gotta lot better to do once we get out of here, you’ll slow me down.” Ginn said with a hint of truth in his sarcasm. He gave one last tug at the rusted and overgrown cellar door and with a crack it swung open. “So, you coming or waiting for him?”
Soren took one last look around the abandoned apartment. This wasn’t anything new to him. A home uprooted. The memories, the good moments shattered. He could see from the drawings of the children room that Tucken was a good man, a good husband and father. He had everything and in a matter of hours it was torn from his hands and stomped. Tucken was the kinda man Soren wished he was and wished he had when he was younger.
Buried in the shards of glass and broken furniture Soren could see a small frame cracked and broken like all the rest, but between the cracked glass was a woman’s eyes and the stringy hair of two young girls. Soren extracted the photo from the frame and looked at it for a moment. He looked over the older one who must have been Tucken’s wife. She was a gorgeous with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair her skin looked like porcelain. The two girls were gorgeous in their own right the youngest looking one made Soren chuckle just looking at her. Red hair and covered in dirt, and the other one with jet black hair; more proper than her sister, yet the look she gave her sister in the photo showed a fiery attitude. Tucken had everything, and Soren couldn’t help but respect the man more for what he had lost.
He tucked away the photo and rushed down the stairs. Down the street he could already see the soldiers hustling down the road. Soren took an alleyway west toward the tunnels location and turned back onto another street. Finally as he closed the gap between him and where Ginn said to meet he found, he took a quick turn down another alleyway to find a rifle in his face.
“You set that fire?” The soldier asked pulling the hammer back on his gun.
“Lots of fires today, not my fire though; body bon fires, Molotov fires, no fires of my own though, no!”
The soldiers eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t buying Soren’s sloppy try at quick wit. Soren could read the room fast and knew it wasn’t his words that would get him out of this one. The soldiers finger began to squeeze the trigger as the rifles cold barrel was inches away from Soren’s chest. Soren smack his palm against the barrel sending the bullet careening against the concrete wall of the building to their right.
The Soldier felt the shrapnel slice against his chest piece before witnessing the gruff rebels fist crack against his jaw.
The disoriented soldier crumbled to the ground, trying to use his weapon as support to pick himself up. His face hit the pavement as Soren’s boot hit the stock of his firearm. Before he knew it the rebel was streets away.
As Soren rushed down the back alleys trying to reach Tucken and Ginn a steam whistle blew signally the beginning of a chase. His feet picked up the pace rushing across streets from alleyway to alleyway.
His heart pounded. Soren had been in many fights and many chases, but never in Huxwell. He hadn’t been in Huxwell for a long time truly, not since the War of The Divide, twelve years ago. He did not feel comfortable being back. Being chased across five streets did not help with that.
A steam powered cart blocked his exit from the alley onto Darpington Boulevard. He tucked himself against the side of a building hoping the cart would pass. The copper cart stuttered as steam puffed out the back. The hot steam floated through the alley way as Soren heard the thud of soldiers leaping from out of the cart. He heard the sound of a bullet entering the chamber and knew their wasn’t many ways out. The rebel pulled his jacket to the side and gripped a hilt protruding from his waist. It was bound tightly in a brown leather strip for grip. The pommel was unfinished, with a screw like end as if waiting for someone to add the pommel to it. The thud boots came closer and closer to Soren’s hiding spot. Soren pulled the long knife out from its hidden sheath in his waist band.
The blade itself had wear to it. Scuff marks along its flat sides and small bits of rust. Yet it also had ornate inlays along the blade in the form of beautiful vine-like images creeping along the iron. It was a worn, rough blade, yet it still shined as the steam lamps light touched it.
The footsteps grew louder until they grew too close for Soren’s comfort. The ragged rebel leaped from his cover ready to take on whatever was behind the corner. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the Arkin’s throat. The blood ran down the gargling soldiers chest piece in a waterfall of red. Soren witnessed the dying man’s eyes go from a wide startled fear to utterly lifeless.
He gripped ahold of the dead man’s body as he began to collapse from its stance toward the cold pavement and as quickly as he could pull it behind the cover. The rebel saw no signs of any other Arkin and swiped the blood splattered rifle from the ground before racing from the scene.
“Dammit, Ginn if you are fooling me I’ll kill you too.” Soren grunted to himself as he rushed through the streets and alleys toward the were Ginn said the cellar would be.
“Are you coming or not?” The smuggler asked once more. He was fed up with the unassuming weasel that stood before him. Tucken and Ginn bickered a moment longer, with Tucken holding his foot along the cellar threshold and Ginn slamming the cellar door repeatedly upon the foot blocking his escape. The two finally stopped when they saw a bloodied and ragged rebel approach with a grimace on his face.
The deadly rebel approached his face keeping a devilish gaze at Ginn.
“Soren! My dear friend, right on time as always! You never disappoint!” The rat-like smuggler schmoozed.
The rebel finally turned his neck toward Tucken and in a matter-of-fact way asked. “He tried to leave right away?”
“Right away.” Tucken answered looking directly at Ginn who seemed to him like a caught fish.
“Good work.” Soren said again matter-of-factly and pushed past the smuggler in the tunnel forcing his way into the tunnel.
The tunnel itself was narrow and smelled of mist and stagnant water. Tucken kept his back arched, he almost felt the need to crawl just to fit. Soren and Ginn on the other hand fit with ease. Only having their shoulders rub against the jagged and rocky sides of the tunnel.
“The tunnel shouldn’t be too long of a trek. Only a little bit away from the city wall out into the surrounding woods.” Ginn explained trying to end the silence.
“After that?” Soren asked as he pushed forward without turning to look to the crooked smuggler behind him.
“After that we go our separate ways. I have a hidden cache in a small cabin near where this tunnel should spill us out.” Ginn explained as he examined Soren’s bloodied clothes “you can change out of those dreadful rags there I suppose.”
“All this time there was a tunnel to get by the gate.” Tucken said mesmerized as he tried his best to dodge the jagged roof.
“Multiple tunnels.” Ginn Locke added. “This is just the last surviving one.”
“What did you use it for?”
“That was before my time in the guild.” Ginn tried to feebly get away from the question.
“What did they use it for then?”
“Mostly moving Blue Sand.”
“Just drugs? That was it?”
“Mostly drugs, not only.”
“They could have smuggled food and medical supplies in for the street dwellers!”
“Street dwellers don’t pay as well as the big wigs do for Blue Sand.”
“You conniving little- “
“Tucken!” Soren called out grabbing Tucken’s attention from the rat in front of him. “Light!” He said as he pointed forward to a small shining sliver of light that becomes them to hurry. The group hurried further and as they did the light grew bigger and bigger until finally they reached the source. Another cellar door with a crack that light bled through illuminated the tunnels end. Soren gave his shoulder a large thrust and bashed against the door. He felt the chains outside rattle as they pulled tight. He gave it another go and again only the pull of chains. In a act of annoyance and desperation Soren push against it moving the cellar door just enough to see a piece of the tight chain. That was enough for the ruthless and tired rebel to see and with a quick draw of his rifle he fired it cracking the chain and breaking it off the door.
“Soren!” Tucken’s voice rang out just as the crack of the gunpowder echoed through the tunnel shaking the dirt loose. Tucken felt his ears pop followed by a senseless ringing that made him nauseous. In his stupefied state he heard the door creek open and felt the blistering sun shine down upon him in the stairwell of the cellar. The smell of morning dew poured into his nose as he followed the serenity of the nature outside the cellar.
As he came too he saw the greenest green he had ever seen. The morning birds played a song from the branches and the forest rustled as Tucken felt a cool wind blow against his battered suit jacket. Tucken had been outside the walls before, but never from this side. Only the side designated to leave from by the Arkins. A side filled with sorrow at every turn.
“There’s so much green.” He said in awe.
“Welcome to the world, Tucken!” Soren said moving passed him he followed Ginn towards his cabin. “Remember this moment, when the going gets tough, the world won’t always look this pretty!”