“Fools,” Jere thought to himself, “They forgot to frisk me.”

In spite of the dire situation, Jere had regained his composure. The guards were so preoccupied in leading him and Appo to the cells that they had forgotten to check whether they were carrying any weapons. At that moment, Jere was acutely aware of the dagger strapped to his thigh, hidden underneath his trousers. It was hard not to, for the hilt of his blade had been chafing his balls for the last hour. Despite the irritation he was thankful for the guard’s lapse in judgment. With the dagger he wasn’t completely doomed.

That still didn’t change the fact that his hands were tied. He was strong, but there’d be no way he could snap the rope before the guards stuck their scimitars in his back. Even if he could somehow free his hands and grab the dagger, he was out-numbered six to one. His lack of armor didn’t improve his odds either.

“Wait, I forgot about the healer,” Jere corrected himself, “six to one and a half. If that.”

The guards dragged the two through the dilapidated section of the city. Night had fallen shortly before, and most Ashfolk had already gone to bed. There would be no one coming to rescue them, not that anyone in their right mind would.

Appo had been pleading nonsensically to the guards as they moved, but they were completely silent. Jere wasn’t surprised. They had been suspicious of the healer the moment he arrived, and many were probably happy to get rid of him. At least Jere knew to stop talking. He found himself surprisingly calm. Maybe the meditation was finally working.

He was looking for his moment to strike. He would just need a single opportunity, though he wasn’t sure what that would be. Perhaps there would be a sudden raider attack? Another guard could come running in yelling about another screamer. That’s all he would need. Maybe the guards could turn their heads for just a moment, and Jere could crouch down, grab his dagger, hold one of the guards hostage and -

“Wishful thinking, all of it.” The more Jere thought about it, the more hopeless he really felt. The guards were surrounding him. No one was coming for them. Jere had a dagger, but what use was it if he was outnumbered? The guards knew their power lie in numbers.

Jere wouldn’t be alone until he was in the cells. With the screamers.

His thoughts turned dark. Perhaps if he couldn’t escape the guards, maybe he could finish himself off before he turned. The rope made it a little difficult, but he could still slash his neck if given a little time. Maybe slice his the inside of his thigh. It would take some work, but he could still have a noble death like Duncic if he was lucky.

The guards stopped. They were near the pillories, long deserted. Juddken, who had been leading the group, turned to the rest. His gaze fell upon Appo, who was still trying to regain his balance. “Father entrusts Shaddon Law to myself alone. He orders the rest of you to take the slave to the cells. Ensure that his hands remain bound and he is locked away with the accursed. If he gives you any trouble, break his kneecaps like you did with the old man. No one is allowed special treatment, not even our own.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Penzer,” Jere thought. He knew Boah’s rise to power would be swift, but he never suspected that they would be rid of the guard so easily. “Truly strange times.”

As the guards handed Appo over to Juddken, the two met each other’s gaze. Appo was terrified. Despite all they had been through the last few moons, they were still strangers. Jere felt sorry for the healer, but there was nothing that he could do. He had tried to warn him of a situation like this happening. Couldn’t say he didn’t try.

Appo’s eyes seemed to plead to Jere. “Is this it?” they seemed to say, “Is this how I die?”

Jere had no response.

Juddken placed his club on Appo’s neck and held it there. As he did so, the guards moved onward towards the cells. Jere did his best to keep up. He figured it would be the last time he’d see the two.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it came down to this.” The voice came from one of the guards; it was barely a whisper. Jere recognized his sad eyes - it was Adok. He was surprised he only now recognized him, he must have joined the group before they started marching. “There’s always a chance-”

“You’re following orders. Do as you’re told.” Jere was curt in his reply. There was no need for niceties by this point. Jere wanted to die angry. If he was going to go, he wanted to be cursing the entire Corps as he did so. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what the other men thought of him. He had worked with the Corps for years, after all. It was somewhat comforting to know that a few at least looked up to him, even considering how Jere had treated him before.

“Don’t waste time talking to the slave,” barked another guard. He was a stocky, balding man who seemed to have the most authority of the guards. Jere didn’t remember his name, but he vaguely recalled not liking him. “Bastard thought he was untouchable after all this time. Forgot his place amongst us. Happy Boah gave us the opportunity to get rid of him like we’ve always wanted to.”

“Ah. That’s better. Thanks, cunt.”

The group kept walking. They had been walking forever by this point. Jere wished it would just be over - he was tired of breathing the pungent Ash air. Whatever opportunity he had to attempt an escape was surely gone by now. He knew the cells weren’t far past the pillories. Should he just end it all right now? Surely an arrow in the back would be a much quicker death than whatever fate awaited him in the cells. He liked the idea of going out fighting. It may not have been the death worthy of a priest, but it was surely the death worthy of the mercenary he pretended to be for so many years. Certainly he wouldn’t be able to take all of them in a fight, but maybe he could at least take the bald one.

“Huh.” The bald guard murmured. “Did it always look like that?” Jere looked up from his shuffling. The cells were in view now.

“What’s wrong?” asked another guard.

“The door. Did someone go in?”

The guards were now within a few paces from the cells. The guards were blocking Jere’s view. It was getting darker by the moment and the guards had yet to light their torches. He could barely make out what they were looking at.

Adok spoke up. “Who is it? Did Boah send someone ahead?”

“If he did, it would have been nice for Juddken to let us know,” the bald guard responded.

As the guards slowed their pace, Jere was finally able to get a glimpse of the door. He wasn’t sure why it was taking the guards so long to figure it out. The door was just slightly open.

Jere’s chest began pounding. He saw bright red eyes. Then he heard an inhuman shriek.