8 Lumaki, 891 ED

Banal, 09:15

Milagre, Empire of Tyrman

“Right this way. The Captain told us you’re to be allowed in. Said you’re gonna question one of our prisoners, right?”

I nodded my head. I still couldn’t wrap my head around how quickly Enri had agreed to my request. A virtual stranger, asking for access to the dungeons, to question someone that I didn’t know personally? Even I couldn’t comprehend what had made him agree so readily.

“Seems a bit too easy,” Gogo said under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

“It does,” I agreed. “But there’s no use complaining now.”

Gogo gave a slight shrug in reply. Behind him, Felix seemed keenly interested in the building around him. Like us, this was his first visit to the dungeons. It was far from a pleasant place, but new experiences would always appeal greatly to the curious young man. Grinning, I caught his attention with a question. “I hope you’re not too troubled by accompanying us here, Felix. I’m sure you’re bored out of your mind.”

“Oh, not at all,” he said quite cheerily. “In fact, I’m willing to bet this will prove a valuable experience.”

“Think it will lead to a good story?”

He smiled coyly at that. “Perhaps. Unfortunately, I am no oracle, so only time will tell how accurate my predictions are.”

-

The dungeons under the city were fairly plain in appearance. Just a straight layout of tunnels three detention levels, capable of holding up to four hundred prisoners per level. But I could feel the overwhelming pressure of the magic that was laced in this place, soaked into the walls, ceilings, and floors. Anti-illusion runes, offensive traps that could be armed at a moment’s notice, and a wide variety of magical effects that were designed to prevent both escape and invasion.

I had no way of knowing how many prisoners were currently housed in the complex, of course, but I guessed that it was more or less halfway full. Having just come back from a rather traumatic event and capturing the numerous war criminals that always showed themselves in such events, they would have had a surge in population. But the prison, created under the combined knowledge of Samuel Bragg and the top generals in the nation, had always been created with the mind of holding more prisoners than they’d expected.

“What was the name of the prisoner you needed to visit?” The Warden asked, pausing in his stride and turning to look at me curiously.

“Kandara Sho,” I said, having learned the name of the captured warrior the previous night from Captain Ciayol. “If possible, I’d also like to speak to Rohan Silver. I believe he was transferred here this morning.”

The Warden nodded in understanding. “Very well. It is unorthodox for an outsider to see two unconnected prisoners, but as you were recommended by Lord Ciayol, I won’t question it. But please note that you are only allowed to speak to the prisoners. You may not enter the cells, give or take items, or cast spells without permission.”

“I understand completely,” I replied. And indeed, I did. The way I’d designed the system in my head, limiting information to and from the prisoners was nigh on impossible. The only beings outside of their cell they could speak to were the Divines.”

“This way, then,” the Warden said, and he began to lead the way further down the hallway. We were right in the first line of cells, and I could see dozens of figures as we passed by, all sitting silently on their bunks or else talking quietly with cellmates. I was just about to focus my attention forward and uncomfortably ignore them before I heard my name shouted from the left.

“Tuck! Gogo! My friends, am I ever glad to see you!”

Stopping in my tracks, I turned to see who had spoken. The voice had been… oddly familiar. It took me a moment to recognize him without his fine clothes, jewelry, and the two hulking forms of his bodyguards behind him. But his pale thin face, combined with that distinct Welsik accent, made me certain.

“Reiner?” I asked, taking a step back in shock. “What the hell are you doing down here?”

The Warden had paused as well when the prisoner shouted. At my question, he retrieved a book from his belt and looked down at it. “Reiner… Reiner… Ah, yes. This prisoner was arrested for knowingly engaging in the trade of slaves and attacking sworn protectors of the law.”

“Has the Crown made that an official law, then?” I asked, looking at the Warden. “I mean, I know it was Atlas’ Divine Law.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Yes, sir,” he replied crisply. “Last month, the announcement was made. Even after her uncle’s death in the invasion, Her Majesty made it quite clear that this law would still be enforced within Tyrman.”

“I wasn’t aware,” Reiner said, a pleading note in his voice. He tried to reach past the bars of his cell in my direction, but I took a hurried step out of his reach. A nearby guard smacked his forearm with his wooden club, forcing him to retreat it. “You have to understand! If I’d known it was illegal still, I would have never brought them into the city.”

“You know this prisoner, sir?” The Warden asked. “Is what he says true? He is still awaiting trial, so we have not yet convicted him. He will still serve some time for attacking guards, but if he was indeed ignorant of the law…”

He trailed off, looking at me expectantly. Perhaps he was waiting to see my stance on the new law, to gauge what kind of person I was. I gave a slight shrug. “I cannot speak to whether or not he knew the law, Warden. I was simply hired as an extra guard for his trip to Milagre.”

“I see,” was his only reply.

“You must plead on my behalf, Tuck,” he said. If there had been any chance of me helping him, it was ruined as he added, “Please. I’ll be sure to make it worth your while. I’ll give you more gold than you can carry.”

He reached out again, as if to implore me, though he made sure to keep his arms well inside his cell. Shaking my head, I resolutely turned my back on him. “Sorry, Reiner. Well, I’m not sorry, really. The moment I knew what you’d done to those two, I wanted to kill you. I only stayed my hand out of fear of those two, and the knowledge that they’d be forced to suffer to defend you.”

Turning to the captain, I asked, “Do you know what happened to the brothers he had enslaved?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said. “Apparently, they belong to the Karimande tribes. An Issho-Ni Master knew this and challenged them in open combat. When they were defeated, they pledged their fealty to him, and he released them.”

“Good,” I said, letting out a long sigh. It was in keeping with the nature of Issho-Ni that one of their Masters would do everything in their power to prevent the brothers from living out their lives in further slavery. “Hopefully they can make a life for themselves, now.”

We moved on then, leaving the Welsik trader behind, both figuratively and literally. After that, it was a short walk to the opposite end of the first floor, where the archer and the fighter were supposedly staying. They’d been put in a cell together, which surprised me, and were sitting in sullen silence when we came to a stop in front of the bars. The archer himself lifted his head, his tangled hair even more unkempt than before.

“Ah, it’s the conquering heroes,” he said, leering. “Look, Sho, that spellblade is coming to see how we’re faring in prison.”

Kandara lifted his head to peer at us. Unlike his companion, who was full of sarcastic energy, he seemed more or less resigned to his fate. He said nothing to either of us, but neither did he take his eyes off of us. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought that he seemed almost… wary. As if he was expecting to receive some kind of retribution for his crime from me or Gogo.

“Well, here they are,” the Warden said. “Ask them whatever it is that you wanted. You two, do a round.”

Two of the guards that had accompanied us swiftly made their way back down the long corridor of cells to patrol. Voices were raised on either side, pleading, jeering, or even outright threatening them. I barely spared them a moment of my attention before turning to Felix.

“You wouldn’t happen to have some kind of magic to force them to tell the truth, would you?” I asked. “I’m sorry if that’s an offensive question, but Divination could come in handy here.”

“Hmm,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose it is possible. I could give it a try.”

“Is that alright, Warden?” I asked, turning to the burly man. “I’d rather not spend my energy and time trying to sort truth from lies.”

The Warden opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, a quiet voice from inside the cell forestalled him. It was Kandara Sho. “That won’t be necessary. Silver might want to lie to you, but I’m not bothering.”

That came as a surprise to me. Not surprisingly, I didn’t trust it for a second. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe anything you have to say to me.”

“I may be a thief,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. I could see the steel in them, and, instinctively, I knew he was being genuine. “But I’m loyal to my leader. In fact, if anything I tell you can save him, I’ll gladly tell tales on my people.”

“Your leader is in some kind of trouble?” I asked. Racking my brain, I thought that the current leader of the Thieves Guild was a man named Haran. He was a member of the broken noble family of Rainhall. Ironically, in spite of his chosen profession, he was one of the two honest and honorable people left of that failed family.

“Aye,” the warrior replied, his shoulders slumping. “Rainhall is in a bad spot. There’s mutiny building in the ranks. We can’t figure out who’s causing it, but more and more of our members are starting to go against orders.”

It was almost as if a cold hand entered my chest and gripped my heart like a vice. Haran Rainhall had been a carefully constructed character of mine. He worked in union with Enri Ciayol, even if they hardly ever met face to face. A natural balance existed between the two forces, in fact, and it all benefited Milagre in the long run. A new leader, one who was willing to take control by force, likely wouldn’t respect that balance.

“If that’s the truth,” I muttered, concerned, “then that’s not good.”

“Is it really such a big deal if thieves kill each other?” Gogo asked. “The way I see it, it shouldn’t matter to us who leads them. They can’t take over Milagre on their own or anything, can they?”

I was about to explain, but the Warden replied first. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss them, Beast-Kin. The Thieves Guild has a lot of influence in this city. In fact, if they stopped working right, this city would fall apart. Every guard knows it.”

He swept a hand down the long corridor. “Almost half of the people in these cells owe allegiance to the Thieves Guild. They get put in here on purpose sometimes, all to keep their people in line. They’re well-organized.”

“And,” I added, still feeling that coldness in my chest, “They know when to stop fighting. They never take it too far.”

“So if this new leader takes over, then they’ll get out of control?”

I nodded, then turned to Kandara. “Who’s trying to do the mutiny? Do you know their name?”

“Apart from the fact that they’re a monk, we know nothing,” he replied. “One of our members escaped them before, and said that they have the spiritual magicks.”