When, after several minutes, Lillandra and Shell failed to surface, the pirates presumed they had drowned and got on with business: first they tended to their mutilated comrades; then, they marched their prisoners off the Cockatrice, dragging them along by the ropes with which they had tied them together. They were led out of the harbor, into the damp and foggy city of Helltrix, and then out of the city, to a large black castle just outside the city walls. This was a monstrous structure, which reminded Arai of the Haunt or the Nightfall, only it was bigger than either of those: it was a concentric castle with massive curtain walls, seven round towers, and a fortified keep, and the outer walls were surrounded by a moat.
The pirates led them to the main gate, where they conferred with a pair of guards. One of the guards went into the castle and returned a few minutes later with another man, a man wearing a set of official-looking badges. This man frowned at the prisoners.
"And where did you find these?" he asked the leader of the pirates.
"Merchant ship out of Addisport."
"How many?"
"Thirty-two, and good, strong lads they are, with plenty of fight in 'em."
"I hope so," the man sighed.
"Three bards a head?" the pirate asked hopefully.
"Two," the man countered. "I'll have the clerk count it out for you." He looked at the woeful-looking crew of the Cockatrice again, and frowned again. "And we'll have to keep them here until Valtun gets back, I suppose. Just what I needed. More mouths to feed." He grumbled some more, then said, "All right, bring them in."
The pirates tugged on their ropes, and they were led over the drawbridge and into the castle. The interior was as gloomy as the exterior, and quiet as a tomb.
"What is this place?" Twine whispered to Arai.
"Some kind of prison, I'm guessing," he said, for there were guards, equipped with pikes and swords, stationed everywhere.
They were led down a hallway and down a series of steps, into the dank and turbid depths of the castle, and finally into a dungeon, lined with cells. Arai and Twine were cut free from the others and thrown into one of the cells, which was already occupied by a bedraggled-looking older man; the rest of the sailors were placed in other cells.
The cell was small, only about ten feet square, and the only amenity was a putrid-smelling waste bucket. The stone floor was covered with dirty straw.
And that was that; the pirates, their work done, left the dungeon with the guards, some of them chuckling to themselves.
Twine began shaking almost immediately. "What's the matter?" Arai asked.
"I don't like this," he said nervously. "I don't like being stuck underground. The thought of all that weight on top of us..." He started breathing raggedly.
"Let's sit down," Arai said. They put their backs to the wall and slid down to the floor, side by side, and Arai, speaking to the young sailor kindly, eventually managed to calm him down. He turned to the older man then, the other prisoner, and asked him his name.
The prisoner, who was perhaps sixty or seventy years old, was a leonine man with a white beard and striking blue eyes. Despite his age, and despite the fact that he had obviously been locked up for some time, he was big and muscular, with brawny arms and thick, powerful legs. His clothes were ragged, but Arai could make out the remains of a kilt and a blue doublet.
The man blinked at him. "I thought you were Addish. You speak Gallean?"
Arai hadn't realized that he had switched languages; the spell Lillandra had cast on him, with the Stone of Many Tongues, sometimes surprised him in this way. "I speak several languages," he said. "No, I'm not Addish, but I'm not Gallean, either, nor Skirrish. It's a long story. What's your name?"
"Estil," the man said. "Sir Estil Endsgrief."
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"Sir?" Arai didn't understand this appellation.
"I am a knight," the man clarified proudly.
"Ah." That didn't really answer his question, but he supposed it didn't matter. "My name is Arai, and this is Twine. He's an Addish sailor. I was a passenger on his ship when it was attacked by Skirrish pirates. They captured the whole crew and brought them here."
"You have my sympathies," the man said gravely. "It's my understanding the Skirrish have been kidnapping a great many sailors. The Aeromancer is preparing a final assault on the Long Wall; they're going to need all the men they can get." He sighed. "I should be there."
"You're Gallean, then? A prisoner of war?"
He nodded.
"How long have you been here?"
"I can't be certain, but it's been several months, at least. I was captured on a sortie north of Prestoris." When he saw the blank look on Arai's face, he added, "That's a Gallean city, abutting the Long Wall. We were outnumbered, and I...I allowed myself to be captured, to save the lives of my men. And so I was brought here."
"And where is here?" Arai asked.
"They call it the Dolorous," he said. "It's one of the largest castles in Grand Skir. It belonged to the Haraj family, originally, but after he took power the Aeromancer turned it into a prison." He shook his head. "A place of misery and grief."
"What's he saying?" Twine interjected. "What are you talking to him about?"
Arai translated the conversation for the sailor. Twine stared at him. "Estil Endsgrief? This man...this man is Estil Endsgrief?"
"You've heard of him?"
"He's the most famous knight in Galleus! Everyone knows him!" He stopped suddenly, suspicious. "Are you sure it's really him?"
Arai turned to Sir Estil, who evidently did not speak Addish, and told him what Twine had said. "He's heard of you."
The knight smiled weakly. "I'm not surprised."
"You really are this famous knight, then?"
He nodded sadly. "It's something of a curse, this fame. But yes, I am the one and only Estil Endsgrief, knighted on the battlefield by King Arthorius himself. I killed the Bandit King of Bloodlorn in single combat; I rescued Princess Rin from the wizard Gargal; I destroyed the monster Tiamatus after it rose from the depths of Lake Tapyrus and attacked Tax Noctum. And until a few months ago I was a senior member of the Council of Knights."
Arai had never heard of most of the people or places, but he got the gist of it: Sir Estil had had a long and storied career. "Do the Skirrish know who you are?"
"Of course," he said. "But I don't think they know what to do with me. They probably expected a ransom, but I have no remaining family, and I recently had a falling out with the Council of Knights; I'm sure they have no interest in buying my freedom. Valtun can't even make a traitor out of me; his attempts to brainwash me have failed."
"Valtun?"
"The sorcerer in charge of this castle. He's one of the Aeromancer's lackeys. He uses some kind of magic to hypnotize poor souls like you, then sends them off to serve the Aeromancer at the Long Wall. But his magic didn't work on me. My will is too strong."
Hypnotism? Perhaps this sorcerer had an Eye of Domination -- the zemi Lillandra had used to try to hypnotize Captain Burt back in Addisport. In any event, this was almost certainly why the pirates had captured them -- Grand Skir needed soldiers, and they had no qualms about kidnapping and brainwashing innocents like Captain Burt and his crew to acquire them.
He found it curious, though, that Sir Estil was immune to Valtun's magic. Was it even possible to resist that kind of mind control? Well, maybe it was; maybe Sir Estil was special in some way.
Twine was anxious to hear what the knight had said, so once again, Arai translated it for him. "They're going to brainwash us?" he asked nervously. "They're going to send us to the Long Wall?"
"That's what it sounds like."
"And this man really is Sir Estil Endsgrief?"
"That's what he says."
"How in the world did the Skirrish capture him? He's supposed to be one of the best fighters in the world."
"He says he surrendered to them in order to protect the men under his command," Arai said. He was intrigued by Twine's description of the man, though -- was the knight really as bold a warrior as he was made out to be? Perhaps he had been in his youth, but he was an old man now, and in a fair fight, and in his current state, Arai didn't think he'd have too much trouble overpowering him.
All that was academic, though. The real question was, how the hell were they going to get out of this situation? Like Twine, he had no desire to be hypnotized and marched off to fight the Galleans at the Long Wall. Sir Estil might have been able to resist this Valtun's mind control, but there was no guarantee that Arai could do the same...and unlike Sir Estil, he was not a valuable prisoner; if Valtun's mind control failed to work on him, they would probably just kill him outright.
He didn't see how he could escape. The cell was girded with sturdy iron bars, and its lock appeared to be solid. Moreover, this castle-prison was crawling with Skirrish soldiers.
And escaping the castle would only be the first step. How was he to survive in Helltrix? He was totally unfamiliar with Grand Skir. The Aeromancer's press gangs would surely catch up with him eventually.
He wondered about Lillandra and Shell. He was glad that the two of them had managed to escape, but he was very, very worried about them. Where would they go? Would Lillandra continue on to Velon without him? She had told him, more than once, that she wouldn't go to the trouble of rescuing him if he found himself in some dire situation, but she had said those things some time ago, and their relationship had changed somewhat since then. At least, he thought it had.
But how would she go about rescuing him, anyway? She had Silus, and a handful of zemi, but that was it.
He swore, and asked himself again: How the hell was he going to get out of this one?