Thaddeus watched as four hundred and forty-two Adelphi legionnaires assembled in the courtyard of the temple of Amon, just as they did every morning. Archbishop Ambrose stood at the top of the steps to the grand main entrance, just as he did every morning. He raised his staff and the large, clear, multifaceted gem and he spoke the prayer, “May their arrows in flight turn, may their swords in thrust repel, may his light let nothing pierce these mortal shells. The protection of Amon be upon you.” The gem of the staff glowed, as did the holy symbols of Amon each legionnaire wore around their neck. Just as they did every morning.
As the soldiers began to disperse, half going on to their daily duties and the others to get some rack time, a woman a bit older than Thaddeus himself in flowing white hooded robes approached him.
“Your grace,” she said respectfully but somehow still with a hint of annoyance, “you missed these papers this morning when you were signing.”
“Please,” he replied with a chuckle as he took the parchments, “he is ‘your grace’ I am just father Thaddeus.”
“You are a bishop too father, you deserve respect.” She said softly, partly to avoid being overheard and part out of concern for his seeming overwhelming lack of self confidence.
“I am a bishop in the temple where the Archbishop has taken up residence,” he stepped over to the marble bannister, taking a quill and ink bottle from his robes, “what I am sister Margriete, is a glorified paper pusher and secretary.” Thaddeus quickly scribbled his signature on the papers and handed them back, “he performs miracles, as if he had the gods at his beck and command.”
The click of his staff echoed in the courtyard as Archbishop Ambrose walked up to the two of them. “Ah, father Thaddeus,” he began, with his practiced smile, “I need you to take lead of my prayer circle at noon, if you don't mind. I have lunch with some dignitaries I must attend.”
“Of course, your grace,” Thaddeus replied with a more natural smile.
“Excellent,” the Archbishop replied, and then strode back into the temple.
Thaddeus looked at Margriete, “as I was saying.” The two then shared a chuckle as she rolled up the parchment and placed them back into the scroll case.
She touched his cheek and looked deep into his eyes, “it should have been you. You care more about the people, the suffering and poor, than holy crusades and delegates and politics. You have always been a good man Thaddeus, I can't understand why Amon doesn't see it as well.”
“The light of Amon sees all, sister, and he has a plan I am sure.” He took her hand in his and lowered it to his heart, “now if you can excuse this old paper pusher, I have a city to keep running.”
Margriete watched as he slowly walked back into the temple, muttering his morning prayers on the go because of how busy he was. Just like he did every morning, she thought again to herself.
The legionnaires had dispersed from the courtyard, some to sleep after a long shift, some to guard the city, and the best of the best to descend into the chasm once again to keep the horrors from scaling the wall and destroying the city. She looked out over the courtyard to the wall they had erected in the fifteen years since the ground had opened up that fateful day and swallowed one third of the city. The gates that led to the only bridge that reached the sliver of the city that survived. The bridge to Little Adelphi lay on the other side of the chasm, in front of the temple itself. Adelphi was in chaos that day, the sundering had even taken the life of the previous Archbishop. Ambrose had quickly risen up in the wake of the disaster to help the frightened and injured as well as repel the monsters who crawled from the pit and still plagued the city to this day. In awe of the power Amon had given on that day the city had proclaimed him the new Archbishop. He skipped the usual channels but the church could hardly argue, before they even knew what had happened Ambrose had single handedly restored order to the city and people were calling him Archbishop.
Margriete shook her head. It smelled suspicious to her but she was apparently the only one who thought that way. She wandered off, having duties this day as well, and they weren't getting done standing here.
The line to the gates lined up so far the city itself was not even visible from the spot at its end. Xerro walked beside the horses this close to the city. He supposed it did look suspicious to have the servant riding on the same horse behind the knight but his feet were less happy about it. Not that it mattered, keeping up was not an issue once they took a place in the queue, the line did not move more than a few feet every minute. The line was an eclectic mix of pilgrimages and wagons full of people seeking to be healed. There were dignitaries seeking aid or just Amon's blessing that their wars were just in his eyes. And there were caravans of merchants seeking trade in the holy city. Some of them were not even waiting to get in the city. People were walking up and down the line selling food and drink.
“Hey Wogan,” Xerro whispered, as the hockers reminded him of how dry his throat and how empty his stomach was, “can you break a sovereign for me?”
“I have waterskins and rations,” the knight replied, never even taking his eyes off the unmoving line. “all that stuff is overpriced anyway.”
Angeline was tucked under her hood, trying again to remain inconspicuous in a pure white cloak with the gold filigree, atop her pure white charger. She overheard one of the merchant's sales cries and turned to her Kingsblade, “oh Wogan, they have mulled wine. Please, wouldn't you rather have that than some tepid water?” She smiled at Xerro with a ‘that is how it's done’ wink.
Wogan reached into his money pouch, his resolve against the pleading eyes of his princess was about as forthright as a pane of glass against a trebuchet. He handed three slivers to Xerro, “get three wines and see if they have those little sweetbreads.”
“Yes my lord,” Xerro said, dripping with sarcasm, “right away.”
“Why do we have him again?” He asked Angeline, as Xerro disappeared down the line.
“Because one, he saved me twice while you were indisposed.” She said with a targeted barb at his honor. “And secondly, I have a feeling his unusual nature will prove most useful.”
Two and a half slivers later Xerro was the owner of three small corked clay bottles of wine and half a dozen honey breads wrapped in cloth. He was passing a cluster of dignitaries from Quardin, a desert kingdom among whose specialties included involuntary indentured servitude. Six Adelphi legionnaires were talking with them before crying out to the others in line to make way for the special delegates. Xerro could make out over his shoulder the Quardin group being pulled out of the line and escorted toward the gates.
Xerro handed his companions their bottles of wine and tossed Wogan his bread before moving immediately to the saddlebags on Angeline's horse.
“Excuse me.” She said in an quiet but intense whisper, “what are you looking for?”
“I know you are in disguise,” he said trying to blut the sarcasm of his verbal air quotes while not ceasing in his search of the bags, “you have it with you right? I mean you wouldn't be without it…ah!” He pulled out a cloth in which he could feel the hard circular object inside. The cloth fell away to reveal a shining silver tiara, braided cords around the back that opened up into a lattice work containing seven small rubies on each side and culminating in a large clear sapphire the color of Angeline's eyes in the center.
“Hey” she shrieked, snatching It from the commoner's hand.
A metal zing sounded a split second before the sword was at Xerro's neck. “Relax lover boy, that is getting us into the city before the day after tomorrow.” He said calmly.
“We are not selling that to the guard.” He said bluntly.” Wogan added threateningly, his breath was already ragged from indignation.
“No, sir Thick.” He replied, “she's going to wear it.
“Need I remind you we are trying not to let it be known she's here.” said Wogan poignantly.
“A beautiful maiden in white atop a white horse does not blend in. Every man in this line has been looking at her at some point all morning. They may not know who she is but she is not exactly invisible. All I am suggesting is we use it to our advantage.”
“No, I will not put her in danger,” he repeated.
“It's the holy city of Adelphi. Once we are inside she will be protected by the legionnaires, an army rumored to be invincible. How much safer can she be? Especially as a noble dignitary from the largest trade kingdom.” It was Xerro's turn to be breathless now.
“No, I think he is right, Wogan.” Angeline Spoke up, placing the circlet upon her head. “What is the plan Xerro?”
“Make way for Angeline, princess of Amberwyben.” Xerro cried out, holding the reins of her horse while leading it up the side of the line for the gate, Wogan following behind clearly not happy with this plan.
“Sing.” Said Angeline from the saddle.
“What?” He replied, turning a perplexed eye to the princess.
“My servants usually sing my arrival.” She answered to an even more confused look from Xerro. “They do, so do you want to sell this or not?”
He rolled his eyes as he turned back to the line, “make waaaaay, for Prin-cess Aaaaan-gel-eeeeen!” he sang, not more than a little mortified.
Luckily he had made it barely a hundred yards up the line when the legionnaires that are usually lining the road had gathered in front of the queue jumpers.
“You have to stay in line.” Barked the one with the largest plume.
“Were you not listening,” said Xerro, “Princess Angeline of Amberwyben. She is here to see the Archbishop. Now either let us be or clear the riff raff and aid us in getting through the gate before the royal skin starts to blemish out here in the sun.”
“You…you can't just ignore the line.” The guard stammered, which told Xerro his conviction was faltering. “How do we know she is even who you say she is? Wouldn't the princess be traveling with an entourage?” He asked, getting a little of his swagger back.
Xerro risked grabbing onto the man's wrist as he reached toward the woman on the horse, “well, servant,” he said, indicating himself, “and I do suspect you are aware of what a Kingsblade is.” Indicating Sir Wogan, “would you not call that an entourage? And besides,” Xerro dropped his voice to a whisper at this point, “rumor has it this guy has a bit of a crush on his charge there. So, between his duty and that little extra zeel that love does give you fighting types l believe he would cut you down where you stand were you to dare touch a hair on her head.” Angeline had to stifle a giggle at overhearing Xerro's comment.
The man smirked the smirk of someone who is in on a secret no one else knows and looked over at the knight, steely determined gaze and hand already on his weapon at the man's proximity to Angeline.
“I know rumor also says you legionnaires are invincible,” continued Xerro, quietly into the soldier's ear, “but would you really want to put that to the test against an enraged Kingsblade?”
The smirk fell so fast the lad had to fight the urge to look down and see if it shattered when it hit the ground. The soldier returned to attention immediately, “clear the way!” He called out in a sharp about face, “clear the way for the princess! Make way for princess Angeline of Amberwyben!”
Three legionnaires led them toward the gates in the distance. Angeline looked back at Wogan with a big smile on her pristine face, “oh, so good to be traveling like a princess again after all these weeks.” She laughed at her Kingsblade's still sour expression, but when she turned back to face the head of the procession he could not help but smile himself after getting to see her smile after so long.
The small processional made its way past the line. At one wagon it passed, a reptilian snout went unnoticed poking from out of the cover. It let out a quiet sound halfway between a growl and a chuckle before pullin back inside.
The entry town was twice the size of the village Xerro had just left, yet across the bridge over the chasm between, the rest of the holy city still dwarfed it. Little Adelphi was a collection of temples to the minor gods of the pantheon surrounded by businesses tailor made to sell things to visitors to Adelphi proper. In between the small shops and lining the streets were carts and shanty stalls hocking wares. And the wares ranged from novelty foods all the way to trinkets promising the buyer anything from attracting true love to healing ailments and removing curses.
Angeline leaned down from the saddle to whisper to Xerro, “what do you think, could one of these people have a solution to your little problem?”
The lanky lad shook his head, “sadly, I have been to priests and monasteries, wizards and witch doctors, none have been able to lift my curse. I even traveled to the pool of Gaia in the elven lands, said to cure any ailment, restore any injury and lift any curse.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes in what looked to Angeline like someone in pain, “the water turned black when I stepped in the pool. I had to flee the entire elven nation and I am probably never welcomed back again. I still to this day am unsure if the water ever returned to clear after I left.”
“Ouch,” proclaimed the princess. “Well if the pool failed then I doubt the Archbishop could even do any better.”
The two Inns that flanked the final stretch of road to the bridge were five stories tall. Xerro had never seen a free-standing structure so tall that wasn't built into the side of a mountain. Besides being tall both took up an entire city block. But there the similarities ended. The Pilgrim's Paradise was a choice of a cramped collection of common rooms or what practically amounted to closets for sleeping in, while the Palisade was spacious suites and amenities fit for nobility at a price for the night that someone could buy a small cottage for in some towns. The guard of course, led them straight to the Palisade. Angeline dismounted and thanked the soldiers with a graceful curtsey before they departed.
“Ooo a bath and a real bed, it's been too long.” The princess cooed.
“My lady,” Wogan said cautiously, “I am sorry to bring up that we may not have the reserves to afford this place.”
Xerro held up one finger as he disappeared into the front entryway.
Inside was a tangle of wealthy merchants and hotel staff trying to untangle whose luggage was who's. Xerro slipped into the back area grabbing a hotel tunic from the laundry staff and throwing it on. He then marched up to the front desk, slipping behind it and whispering into the ear of the concierge, “we have a problem.”
The thin balding man placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and just asked, “what now?”
“You know the vase we used to have on the fifth floor,” Xerro asked, because he had worked in enough lodging houses to know swank inns always had expensive vases on the premium floors.
“Oh no!” The poor man cried and dashed off to catch one of the chambermaids, having never actually looked at Xerro once.
As he left Xerro looked over the reservation book, found an open suite on the fourth floor and wrote in a reservation for Princess Angeline of Amberwyben and the behest of the Archbishop in his best approximation of the handwriting already in the book he could muster. Then he quickly stepped from behind the desk and ditched the tunic, tossing it back into the door to the laundry before standing back in front of the desk just as the concierge stepped back behind the counter mopping his shiney brow with a handkerchief.
The man had gathered himself enough to instantly size up the lean youth dressed in plain dingy beige shirt and brown breeches of the peasantry, and with a pair of boots that had been hand mended several times. “You are in the wrong hotel, young man. You want the inn across the street.” He said with dismissive smarm.
“No sir, I am the personal assistant to princess Angeline of Amberwyben, here to confirm her reservation.” he punctuated his declaration with a smile, forcing the man to look the lad over again. “traveling clothes. I mean you don't expect me to walk alongside her horse down dusty roads in a paige shirt and tights do you?”
The man scoffed but deigned to open his reservation book. Sure enough the reservation for the princess was in the book for today. “I don't remember writing this.” He commented, mostly to himself. It looked like his hand, but something was off, like he had perhaps written it down in a hurry. But she was on the fourth floor, royalty never stayed below the fifth. He must have jotted it down late, he rationalized, and he had apparently been so tired he put her highness on the wrong floor. He had to rectify this as quickly as possible. His face was now completely changed as he looked at the young commoner, “of course, it is right here.” He turned around to take a key off the top row and found the row empty. He turned back to Xerro with a sheepish grin, “Seems that the staff are still perfecting her highness's suite. But she may wait in our dining hall while it is completed and enjoy a lunch, on us, of course.” His nervous grin grew so wide it threatened to tear his cheeks.
“I will convey the situation to her majesty.” replied Xerro with a wink before turning and exiting the building.
“Ok we're all set,” proclaimed Xerro as he stepped up to the horses, “our room is on the top floor but it is, unfortunately not ready yet so we are to have lunch in the dining hall while we wait.” He took her reins again, leading her horse toward the stables.
“Wait,” exclaimed Wogan, “how did you pay for this?”
“I did not,” he replied with a smile, “the Archbishop is footing the tab. After all Angeline is a royal dignitary.”
“Princess Angeline if you must, or her royal highness would be preferred.” Added the knight as they entered the stables.
The argument abruptly stopped as they boarded the horses. The three exited in silence, then as soon as they were out of earshot, “I apologize sir Loin of Beef, I thought she was my friend, I did not realize I had pledged fealty to your kingdom by saving your princess's pretty neck.” Snapped Xerro back at the Kingsblade.
A decision he soon regretted as he was lifted up off the ground by a gauntleted hand.
“You will learn respect, you.. “ he began, but the voice of Angeline cut him off.
“You will put him down, SIR Wogan!” She was loud enough in her reprimand to turn more than a few heads on the street. The chastised knight opened his hand and dropped Xerro to the cobblestones. The seething princess stood nose to chin with her large armored protector, “Xerro is correct, wogan. He is not my subject but he has been our ally and a valuable one. Not only did he protect me from assassination but he got us a suite in a fine hotel,” her voice began to crack and her lip set to tremble, “after seven hellish weeks on the road since we tried to return home, and a month since leaving Ravenmoore, I… I need to be a princess again, even for a little bit,” with tears now dampening her cheeks, “please Wogan, please.” She collapsed into his chest with a sob.
With a look on his face like a dog that had just been yelled at by his owner, he put his arms around her and made soothing sounds, “of course my princess, of course. I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to forget how hard this has been on you.”
The lunch was eaten in awkward silence. At first the waiter tried to insist that as a servant Xerro would not be allowed to eat in the dining hall, but a scathing look from the princess, still a little puffy eyed from her breakdown outside put it to rest quickly. “You will not unseat a man I literally owe my life to.” And the matter was settled. Xerro had to admit it was certainly one of the finest meals he had ever eaten.
True to his word, the concierge found them before lunch was finished to announce their suite was ready and hand sir Wogan the key. The room was large enough to dance in, with four doors off of it three had their own beds and the last its own tub for bathing.
“It is our finest suite for the Crown Princess of Amberwyben.” The concierge said grandly with his arms outstretched, “now is there anything else you require?”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“No my good sir.” She replied with her charmingly practiced smile, “it has been a long road and we simply wish to retire.”
“Excellent, then I shall take my leave and show your servant where he will be staying.” The man said, taking Xerro's arm as he headed towards the door.
“Oh, he will be staying here.” Her reply brought his feet to an immediate stop.
“You highness, we have quarters downstairs close to both the kitchen and laundry so your servant has easy access to bring you your meals and care for your clothes…”
She silenced him with a single finger, “I like to keep my people close by at all times. I'm sure your normal wait staff can bring food up steps.” She informed him, still with her smile firmly in place.
“Yes, but…” he attempted.
“Buttes are two and a half gross volumes of wine, sir. He stays here. In this room.” She concluded the argument, “you may take your leave, sir.”
As soon as the door closed Xerro turned to Angeline, “you didn't have to do that princess,” he added an extra inflection to ‘princess’ that he was sure Wogan could hear, “I was heading out into the city in the morning to look for work. A servant's bed would have saved me from having to break the sovereign for a room across the street.” He said as she shook her head.
“Nonsense!” She replied, “we have an extra room with an extra bed. There is no reason not to stay with us.”
“You really have done plenty to pay me back…” he tried until she raised her finger again. He really must learn how she did that.
“I understand you feel the need to return to your routine, lest your wizard catch up to you, but we are only here for a short time. So why not stay in a comfortable bed with good food and good company until Wogan and I depart the city?” She laid it all out logically and succinctly, Xerro realized what a remarkable diplomat this must make her.
“Alright your highness, but don't expect me to serve you, unless you actually intend to pay me.” The lad countered with a smile.
“Well Mr. Xerro, that is up to you. If you do want the job I could offer you three slivers a day. Otherwise you are in need of a bath and new clothes to wear that don't tell the world that you're a peasant in the social company of a princess.”
The bath was actually nice, if not a bit over long. Without replacement clothes Xerro had to wait until the hotel laundry brought back his. The tub was also supposed to be enchanted to keep the water warm. A lovely little feature rendered useless by Xerro's curse. So he sat in the rapidly cooling water pondering exactly what he should do with this princess and her apparent attachment to him. Did she simply want to take advantage of his condition, as so many before had, or did she really want to be his friend? He usually had a somewhat easy time figuring out people's motivations. Wogan was easy, the knight hated him. And as grim as that prospect seemed, it was something he could plan for. The princess on the other hand was either the best, the most noble and kind human being ever to exist or she was so devious and manipulative that Xerro had no clue what diabolical plan she had laid out that he would fit perfectly into.
Xerro was still sitting in the water that was slowly leeching the heat from his body when the door opened. In walked the knight carrying parcels wrapped in brown paper, which he found an odd thing to enter into a room with where you plan to drown someone in their own tub.
“The laundry is still nowhere near getting your clothes clean so I decided to improvise,” He said as he sat them on the dressing table and began to open them. And long before he could see what was inside Xerro could smell it. The oils and tanning chemicals of leatherwork. Wogan produced a brown jerkin and pants with a plain white linen shirt and undergarments to go with it. The final package contained a new pair of boots. The quality was finer than anything Xerro had owned in his entire life.
“How many sovereigns did this cost?” He asked in a tone of awe. After stepping up to the table, wrapped in a large fluffy hotel towel. He wondered if he could find a way to take it with him when they left.
“Let me ask you first,” the knight countered with a wry smile, “do you think you would have been able to afford these clothes?”
“No,” he replied, picking up the shirt, which was, as a shirt, a finer quality than he had seen mayors of some small cities wear.
“So, by the logic you offered when we all first met, would the people looking for you expect you to dress like this?” Wogan asked with a smug smile, “While they look at every commoner, serf and peasant in the city, you will be overlooked walking unnoticed among the gentry.” he handed the lad the fine crafted high boots.
The soles were soft leather, for padded walking on paved and cobblestone city streets, once out of the city he would need harder soles. But they would be the finest he had ever worn. Xerro got himself put together but Wogan had to help him fit the jerkin. He examined himself in the mirror and barely recognized the person in the mirror. The knight had a point, and after he stepped out and Angeline got a look at him and decided to adjust his hair he was nearly a different person.
“Thank you,” he told her.
“All sir Wogan's idea.” she parried.
“All I need is a cloak.” He quipped, receiving a laugh from the princess and a scowl from the knight.
“There was a time that cloaks were in fashion, not just for bad weather.” He tried to defend.
“Well, I don't remember that at all,” Xerro replied, “so that must have been a while ago.”
The next morning the trio packed up and Xerro struggled back into his jerkin and boots. His peasant clothes were waiting outside the door as they left so he stuffed them into his pouch, along with the fine soft towel. None of the staff paid him any more attention than they did his companions so Wogan's gambit seemed again to be paying off.
The bridge crossing to the city proper seemed to limit cart and wagon traffic to a center lane. Unless you hailed a cab or were transporting goods you walked across the chasm. Small buildings had seemed to spring up on either side of the bridge paths. One lane had people walking to and others walking from the main city. The wares the booths sold seem to differentiate this plainly. While the ‘to’ side seemed to want to offer travelers services at supposedly a cheaper price than in the city, the ‘from’ proffered souvenirs to mark the visit to Adelphi and services for those who didn't find what they sought in the city. Both sides peddled drinks and small treats to eat as you made the crossing.
“So you will see the Archbishop when we make it across?” Xerro asked his companions.
“No,” was the unexpected reply from the princess. “We could not get the Archbishop to see us. But one of his aids offered help when we were turned down. Their letter said they could hopefully find a way to squeeze us into an audience with his Grace or another member of the church that can provide help.”
“So this is a luck shot at best?” he asked.
“It is the best we have, Xerro.” She shot back, “we have to have hope that our cause is so just and worthy that his Grace agrees to help.”
“Your people are dying. Your kingdom provides food and access to food from all over to kingdoms all over the world. How can that not be worthy?” He replied, to no more than a dainty shrug from Angeline. “Well if anyone can convince a bishop to help a kingdom, it is you princess.”
The two exchanged a warm smile, just as Xerro was bowled into by a clutch of young people. They were not much older than he was when he was snatched from the streets. It was both heartwarming and immediately suspicious as he knew what street life was like at that age. His second gut reaction proved to be accurate as he was too late in grabbing for his satchel strap. One of them had cut the front of the strap and it was disappearing over his shoulder as he walked.
“Skite!” He shouted as they ran away with his bag and the lad gave chase.
“Where are you going?” Shouted Wogan, “it's just a bag!”
“It has everything I own in it.” Xerro shouted in reply.
“Skite.” Mimicked Wogan as he ran after. He grabbed the princess by the wrist. To her cry of surprise. “This may be a trap again, so you will not leave my side, your highness.”
The urchins attempted to disappear between two shacks on the bridge, as Xerro gave pursuit he realized the bridge behind the booths gave way to a platform and system of ladders that seemed to function as a means of access for bridge maintenance. He attempted to follow as the children scrambled down the ladders. The urchins were despairingly more proficient at this ladder system, as each jumped to a ladder and slid down with hand and feet on either side of the poles. Xerro was forced to descend a rung at a time.
Before his feet could even reach the next level Xerro was snatched off the ladder by a reptilian hand and tossed to the ground.
“You,” hissed Kuss, “I didn't expect to get a chance to pay you back for spoiling my fun in the last town.”
Two more pairs of hands pulled the lad up from the boards, holding his arms and mouth his captors pulled him back into the dark under the bridge.
Wogan and Angeline were soon following Xerro down the rungs. Wogan dropped the last half of the ladder to the groaning complaint of the gangway's swaying to counter his landing.
The swaying forced Kuss, intent on snatching the princess off the ladder from behind as she descended, into the light too early. The lizard general had to fall back to avoid Wogan's quick thrust through the ladder rungs below her highness.
The men who held Xerro smelled of hopelessness, desperation and garbage. They were obviously the disenfranchised of Adelphi, wherever the money of the rich flowed Xerro knew there were always those whom the trickle of gold never reached them enough. Opulence encouraged greed, and greed bred want, and want was always expensive. Kuss was paying them, and from what he knew of the arrogance of Kuss, he hadn't paid them yet.
As Kuss and Wogan once more performed a dance of martial death, Xerro used his greatest talent, “you know he is going to kill you instead of pay.”
“Shut up,” growled one of the men holding him.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark below, he could see the others holding crude, improvised weapons of the destitute. Clubs, broken bottles, and rocks, Kuss didn't even bother to arm them. “That is if he doesn't get you killed first.” He looked directly at the man who shushed him. He was obviously the leader here. “Do you know what that man is that he is about to have you rush?”
“I said be quiet,” he repeated, not taking his eyes off the fight.
“He is a Kingsblade. He will cut you all down before Kuss can even use your distraction to his advantage.” Xerro lowered his tone, still making sure all of the others could hear, “he may get an advantage from your sacrifice, and whether the knight will die or not, you all will certainly not live to see it.”
The destitute men were muttering now amongst themselves. “Stop it. Settle down. He's paying us well and there are six of us.” said the head man.
“Yes, six against one.” Xerro remarked with a thoughtful look on his face just to hammer home his point, “hardly seems fair to me. I'm pretty sure you need more guys.”
The mob was positively vibrating with doubt now, one of them Xerro could now see was younger than him. They mumbled back and forth and swayed in nervousness, their stances indicating a desire to run. The mob boss was getting rattled, he kept whispering louder trying to gain control of the others. He was so distracted in fact he failed to notice the action Kuss kept repeating each time he looked in their direction, what Xerro assumed must be his signal.
Xerro felt the man's grip loosen in his distraction, and he decided this was his best chance. He drove an elbow into the man's ribs then stomped down on the shin of the other one holding him. A big step forward tore him loose from their hold and he ran toward Angeline who was doing her best to hide behind the ladder Wogan and Kuss were fighting in front of. The moment that he broke free from his captors, the mob scattered into the dark leaving the boss screaming after them, “cowards!” He proceeded to pull out a sharpened piece of metal with cloth wrapped around half of it that could scarcely be called a knife, and ran after Xerro. No more brave than his compatriots, he didn't want to test himself against the knight, but he would take his pound of flesh from the person who ruined his payday.
Xerro swung as wide as he could around the battling warriors, almost scraping against the guard rail of this lower platform, and slid to a stop behind the princess. “I'm sorry, you didn't have to follow me into a trap.”
She looked at him with what seemed a mix of disappointment and sorrow, “and you didn't have to walk into the trap for a bag with not more than a change of clothes in it.”
“It had the sovereign in it.” He countered half heartedly.
“Which you got from me.” She replied. “I have plenty more of those, you are worth so much more than that.” She looked down and away at this point and continued, “I don't have a lot of real friends, Xerro. Don't make me lose you.”
The beggar man bobbed back and forth, judging the space that grew and shrank as the knight and the lizardman fought. He finally steeled himself and charged through the open gap to immediately see Xerro and the Angeline behind the ladder. A red mist of anger clouded his eyes as he ran at them.
“We should move, princess.” Xerro proclaimed, as he caught sight of the approaching man.
There weren't a lot of places to go. These lowerer maintenance platforms did not completely cover the underside of the bridge. They zigzagged in random directions to access points most commonly needing attention, leaving gaps and scaffolding needing to be navigated carefully. A thing that is hard to do at a run, when you are unfamiliar with the layout.
The fleeing pair turned a corner and Angeline realized there was nothing under her foot. Before gravity could convey its cruel judgment on her, Xerro had an arm around her waist, pulling her onto another thin walkway to the left of the open space.
The hired man knew these gangways well. He had grown up here. Escaping the legionnaires, riding out bad weather, and just looking down into the chasm on lazy days with his friends. He knew all the openings, the pitfalls and especially the dead ends. Like the one they were foolishly rushing toward now. They would not escape him now. He would gut the man who ruined his chance at the kind of money that would end this life on the streets. Then he would take the woman that was with him. Her beauty was something the man had never seen up close. He intended to see much more of it.
“Thank you,” Angeline said to Xerro as they ran.
“Well,” he replied with a smile, “I always thought angels could fly, but I wasn't willing to test it just then.”
He nearly ran into her back as her progression halted. “Why'd we stop?” He asked.
“Because the path did.” Was her reply, pointing at the open air in front of them.
The walkway just ended before them. Either it had broken off at some point in the past or they just hadn't finished this particular stretch of planks, the sight that greeted them was a gap of at least a hundred feet to the platform across the gap. Xerro turned back to see the man now slowly making his way down the boards at them with a twisted smile on his lips. That is, until Xerro charged at him.
There was barely room for two people side by side on the gangway. And Xerro wanted to keep Angeline as far away from both the edge and the man with the shiv as he could. There was nowhere else to go, so it left him no choice but to face the man. The smile was quickly replaced with rage as he lunged at Xerro with the crude blade.
Their blades were pressed against the other with all the might they could muster. Ungiving forces in which neither was willing to yield. They were shoved so hard their shoulders touched. Kuss decided to take advantage of their proximity and take a bite out of Wogan but succeeded in only getting a mouthful of metal from his shoulder pauldron. Wogan decided to take advantage in turn of his off balance lunge and with a quick jump and a spin, rolled over his shoulder and down the back of the reptilian general. Kuss suddenly free of the opposing force stumbled in the direction the knight formerly occupied, landing on all fours as Wogan, landing on his feet swung his sword down in a double handed chop, severing the last third of the lizardman's tail. Kuss let out an enraged scream as blood sprayed out of the stump for a few moments before instinctive muscular action pinched off the severed blood vessels. He turned back to face his opponent, and angered as he was for his mutilation, over the shoulder of the knight Kuss could see a troop of legionnaires approaching from the vicinity of the ladder, and knew he would soon be out numbered. The reptilian general leapt to one of the bridge supports and quickly scampered out of sight.
Wogan looked about, noticing the absence of his princess and of Xerro as the legionnaire sergeant stopped in front of him.
“We heard word that the princess's envoy was accosted.” He said with a sharp snap of his heels.
“We were and she is now missing,” answered Wogan, “fan out, we must find her.”
Xerro struggled with both hands on the wrist holding the knife, leaving the opposite hand free to strike him in the side of the head. The lad fell to his knees, still valiantly attempting to maintain his hold on the armed appendage. A futile attempt as a boot to the chest put Xerro on his back, freeing the wrist. The assailant switched to holding the knife in both hands to plunge it down at the chest he had so recently appied his boot to. Xerro grabbed a wrist in each hand to hold the weapon at bay, and the man simply put all of his weight forward, slowly forcing the edge down at the lad.
The man had not expected another boot to find his head however, as an unexpected kick from Angeline sent the man over onto his side on the gangway, freeing up Xerro to scramble to his feet. The attacker was quick however and was back up and with a slash, the royal arm was quickly turning the white sleeve of her gown red. As soon as her yelp escaped her lips Xerro was in front of her grasping at the wrists of the raggedy man, “You'll not touch her as long as I draw breath.” In his best imitation of sir Wogan. He hoped to intimidate him into believing he faced a more learned foe than he did. Unfortunately his attacker didn't believe for a minute. The man brought a leg up to kick Xerro off of him once more but the lad was a fast learner. Up came the opposing leg of Xerro that kept the man from fully extending his for the kick. The problem with two men only being supported by two legs between them was a question of balance. The larger man lost his and fell forward, Xerro had not both the strength and balance to support the other and both to Xerro's back, and the wood of the railing was not strong enough to support the two of them. The rail and its supports cracked like driftwood. Xerro let go of his opponent to grab the now dangling rail allowing the man to sail overtop of him in a dive that would be the envy of a sailor escaping a burning ship.
“Xerro!” Cried Angeline, as she reached for the rail.
The wood creaked and groaned on its fraying fibers as she attempted to tug the rail back to the gangway. Lacking the strength to lift Xerro and hampered by the gash to her arm she could only rock the rail back and forth. The movement of her rescue attempt was finally too much for the broken wood and the rail snapped, pulling her with it and her falling friend.
“Angeline!” Cried Wogan, as he ran up behind her and grasped her waist. He tugged her back to solid footing, but her grip on the rail slid through her fingers.
“XERROOOO!” She screamed in anguish, as she and her knight both watched their friend silently grow smaller as he descended into the darkness of the chasm and disappeared.
Kuss reached the top of the bridge behind some of the small shops. He spared a glance below but his enemies were out of sight around the curve of the bridge. He took his tail in his hands and cursed in his native tongue. The end was scabbing over but it throbbed in pain. It would take days to regrow, in the meantime he was injured and in no shape to go against the Kingsblade again. They were now surrounded by legionnaires, any advantage he had secured for himself was now gone. He decided his best course of action would be to lie in wait outside the city and measure his chances when they left.
“You're hurt.” Said Wogan, examining her arm. He dug into his pouch for an elixir.
“It's fine, it's just a cut, Wogan.” She replied, still wiping tears from her eyes.
“It is still bleeding.” He argued. “It is deeper than it looks.”
He gave her the small vial as she reluctantly drank it down. The wound glowed and slowly sealed itself.
“Too bad it can't heal the heart.” She said sadly.
“That I am afraid is a different kind of hurt, my princess.” Wogan replied as he looked into her eyes.
“Excuse me,” said the Sergeant, softly. “I am terribly sorry about your friend, but he is gone and she is waiting for you.”
“Thank you Sergeant…um” Wogan replied, as Angeline attempted to wipe away her tears and compose herself like a princess.
“Pratchett, sir.” The young soldier replied.
“Thank you, Sergeant Pratchett,” Angeline smiled, “Lead the way please.”
The impact knocked the wind out of him. All around him was cold and dark. When he felt himself finally settle to the ground he started crawling. After what seemed an eternity of his lungs burning, his head finally broke the surface. He tried to inhale but his waterlogged jerkin denied his lungs the room to expand. He fell upon his back on the rocks he had spent what felt like the last twelve hours crawling over and with a painful inhale he squeezed it tighter and in one pull, with all the strength he had left, separated the clasps to let the leather garment flop open. As he drew in ragged breaths, the dark blue sky far above the bottom of the chasm, the only thing he could see, darkened and dimmed.
He awoke to the now red sky of the setting sun standing out as a gash above him in the darkness that surrounded him. A few dozen feet from where he lay, his attacker from the bridge lay a broken & bloody mess on the rocks that lined the pond that Xerro had landed in. A few feet further out from the edge of the gangway made the difference between life and death. The patter of the water pouring in from the looming wall of the chasm above soon gave way to the hoots and gibbers of creatures lurking in the dark. Xerro stood to the complaints of his body that seemed upset about colliding with water from hundreds of feet. As close as he could figure, the proximity of the waterfall churned the water up enough that he didn't hit the surface of the water like hard stone. Though it still felt like soft stone to Xerro. He took the abandoned shiv from just in front of the man for, he rationalized, any unforeseen emergencies. His surroundings were barely visible in the gloom of twilight, so he made off in whatever direction sounded less threatening.
As near as he could squint out, the floor of the chasm seemed to be a labyrinth of rubble and partially intact buildings that fell into the crack when it opened up. Much of the rubble and structures felt like they were covered in some kind of vegetation. As he approached something that obscured the rapidly darkening sky above, he became aware of the moving of rocks behind him. When the color finally disappeared from the top of the crack, lights appeared, scattered about growing in the rocks and blocks of the sunken city. What Xerro had thought was vines or other vegetation turned out to be some kind of fungus. He watched as the line of dim light retreated from one side of the chasm and the fungus followed the line, illuminating the floor of the crack in whites, pinks and blues. He was momentarily awestruck by the light show so he nearly missed the line of light highlighting the creature that had been disturbing the rocks as it stalked him.
The shaggy green creature looked like it was part dog and part rat without a tail of either. Its canines were oversized to the point they criss-crossed each other, a point made more clear when it opened its mouth and bared them at him.
Slowed by muscles sore by the fall, he ran away from the beast as fast as his body would allow. The animal, it seemed was not hampered at all in its speed in running him down, in fact hunger and desperation seemed to be energizing it in its endeavor. He passed under the stone slab, where it seemed unfortunate that none of the fungus grew, but the beast was on his heels in but a few heartbeats. Xerro's foot caught on something, sending him to the ground with barely enough time to get his hands in front of him. He tried to crawl away but his foot seemed to be tangled in whatever he had tripped over. The beast leapt into the air to pounce upon him, only to be snatched out of the air with a yelp. From out of the darkness a large arachnid monster the size of a horse gabbed the rat-hound and just as quickly disappeared into what must have been a burrow in the dark tunnel. The pained sounds of the ratdog soon fell abruptly silent. He jerked his foot a couple times trying to free it and still felt resistance. Then he heard the movement from the spider in response to his tugs and realized what was holding his foot was a web. His tripping over it had alerted the spider and the animal chasing him had paid the price. Now his tugs told it there was still some phantom prey lurking outside its lair. Slowly its long legs creeped out of the burrow, and Xerro realized he was running out of time. He felt around his foot and discovered something thread-like trailing away from his boot. As the rattling sounds of the spider grew closer, he was forced to furiously rub the edge of the crude knife on the silken strand. The web was so strong it took far longer than he wanted until the line broke. The breaking of the line instantly resulted in the slowly emerging head turning in his direction and focusing eight black eyes on him. He scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could out of the tunnel as the arachnid burst from its den in hopes of catching the meal before he escaped. It rapidly closed the distance between them as its horrifying full form was now highlighted in the glowing mushrooms. It unfolded and reached out its front manipulating appendages and as they were scant inches from Xerro's back the massive bug collapsed to the dirt and rubble and lay unmoving.
Xerro ran a dozen more paces before looking back at the monster that now seemed to just lie there. Was it dead, or just napping? Did spiders sleep, he wondered? As the pounding of his blood in his ears subsided he gradually became aware of a faint sound. It was barely audible, but as he listened it was unmistakably music. It grew louder as he walked in the direction it flowed from. It wasn't Instruments so much as someone singing. As he followed he saw another ratdog, laying on its side, eyes closed and the rise and fall of its side indicated it was breathing heavily in the throes of sleep. The closer he made it to the source of the tune the more he was convinced this was the most beautiful voice he had ever listened to. In all of the taverns and inns and drinking halls he had worked for in his years on the run, he had heard countless bards and musicians perform. None of them came close to what he heard now. As the rubble path began to widen he met up with a stream that must have flowed from one of the falls in the sides of the fissure. The path eventually opened into a ring of fallen buildings, with the water flowing through the center. And in the center, in front of a headless statue of a woman crawling, sat a young girl. She was clothed only in wrappings of ragged cloth and her own long, raven, wild and tangled hair. And she was singing.
Xerro approached, captivated by the sound, trying to say hello or something to announce his presence before he reached her. But the only word he seemed to be able to utter as he got closer to her was, “beautiful.”
The girl turned quickly at his uttering, looked at him with wide jade green eyes, and screamed.