“Hmm, I thought I could undo it with my teeth, but I see that won’t work. But no matter, it will just take some time. This goes through here. Watch your finger. And be still! That’s right. Like that. I know it hurts, but be patient. Heavenly Deity, I believe I’ve done it!”
The young woman leaped away from him and held her hands up for inspection. Her dirty face gave a child-like grimace – it was too dark in her corner for her to see. Moving cautiously, she joined Vordius by the oil lamp on the wall.
“The bruises will be gone in a couple of days,” the guardsman said in an attempt to brighten her up. While they had searched for Fenia, Vordius had hated her violently, but now that he saw her helpless figure, his revulsion drained away. “It wasn’t her idea, of course,” he said to himself as an excuse. “Someone threatened her. They made her do it.”
“I suppose I have to thank you,” Fenia said, coming round.
“Not yet,” Vordius shot back jokingly. “We’re still locked up.”
“Aren’t your friends from the Emperor’s guards turning the docks inside out like an old woman shaking a pillow?”
“I would give a great deal to see that with my own eyes,” Vordius laughed, “but I’m afraid that’s not the case.”
“What are you saying?” Fenia asked, narrowing her eyes, which made her look like a fox.
“We’re in this on our own,” Sorgius said, examining the damage her cords had wrought on his fingernails. “This handsome man’s superior officers have no idea where he disappeared to. And if they do find out,” he gave a long whistle. “Don’t argue with me, Vordius. You and I came up with what turned out to be the perfect plan for romantic suicide. I’ll admit my guilt if it makes you feel any better.”
“We just wanted to find the person who poisoned Uni,” Vordius shrugged his powerful shoulders. “And you were the first suspect.”
“You wanted to find me?” Fenia was incredulous. Her voice started to sound unhinged. “Are you serious? You wanted to find me?” She pointed at Vordius and her laughter grew louder. There was something wild and even sick about her reaction. “You wanted to find me, so here I am, right in front of you! What are you going to do now? Question me? Get revenge for your dead fool?” She pointed her chin at the door. “That’s exactly what they want! Come on, give me your worse!” She was laughing so hard that tears ran down her filthy cheeks.
Sorgius froze, feeling humiliated. Vordius glowered. Then he strode across the cell and slapped her face sharply, but not too hard. Fenia cried out. Her face turned pink, and the sense returned to her face.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I had no idea it was poison…”
“What?” Vordius’ jaw dropped.
Just then, the door bolt slid open and the same four ruffians came back in. This time, they had their weapons at the ready: two carried long Seregad daggers, and the other two held thick clubs of the hittle wood that grows in the thick Arincilian jungle.
“Look at them,” said one of the ruffians, a fat, older man with dirty gray wisps of hair behind his ears. “They’re all standing around laughing because they don’t know what to do! I guess they need help!”
“They know what to do. They just don’t know how,” broke in the man next to him, slapping his palm with his club. “Faces to the wall, sissies! Mickay will heat things up in here!”
Shaggy-headed Mickay stuck his dagger in his belt, wiped his hands on his bright green shirt, and then…
If Vordius had been alone, he would have tried to calculate the consequences, assess the risks, and come up with a rough plan of action. But now, his instinct to protect those weaker than himself took over. He grabbed the sputtering oil lamp and threw the oil in the thug’s face. The effect was immediate, but without a light, neither side could see what was going on in the melee.
Moving in on the cries of the burned man, Vordius grabbed him and wrestled the dagger from his belt. A few blows later, there was one less ruffian in the cell. The others were fighting all around him, and it sounded like they were fighting each other.
“Fenia crawl to the wall!” Vordius cried. He immediately realized that he had given away his location.
Following his intuition, he dodged left and barely missed a club aimed at his head. Crouching, he slashed at the shadows around him, crying “I’ll kill all you pigs! I’ll slash you into belt leather!” Someone screamed and began cursing like a sailor. An instant later, the door opened and one of the ruffians called for help. As the door slammed open, it let the deem light of the torches from the corridor in. Out of shock or fear, he didn’t know himself, Vordius started to feel or even sort of see the things around him: the silhouettes in the twinkling light of the candle, trembling in the stream of air from the door, and the shades of fire on the walls.
Expecting a crowd of the thugs to swarm into the cell any minute, Vordius made a terrible mistake: he threw his newfound dagger at the man in the doorway. The knife wasn’t meant for such use, and it hit the man handle-first. The Heavenly Deity, though, was on his side, and the knife handle somehow landed squarely on the back of the man’s head. He fell to the ground, his large body blocking the doorway.
Stunned by his luck, Vordius almost got hit by the third ruffian. He grabbed the man’s club at the last second, but the man let go of it and head-butted him in the face. Vordius saw stars and lost contact with reality for an instant, during which the thug threw him to the grown, sat on his chest and started beating him with his fists. He only got in a few blows before Fenia, silent as an owl, grabbed his hair in her left hand and, with her right, drove a dagger into his neck.
“Can you walk?” she asked the guardsman, who was sprawled on the floor.
“Of course!” he said cheerily, but he had a hard time getting up. He felt like there was a hive of bees buzzing in his head. His legs gave out and he grabbed the young woman’s shoulder, almost causing her to fall.
“You’re in bad shape! Where’s Sorgius?”
“Over here!” came a voice at the other end of the strip of light from the doorway. The little Vuravian was crouching by the wall with his arms over his head. “Is it all over?”
“Let’s go, may the Shadow take both of you!” the young woman said with a scowl.
“Of course! I’m running already!” Sorgius replied, tripping over the fourth ruffian, who was crawling across the floor with one hand covering a wound in his side. Sorgius hitched up his wide pants and kicked the man hard in the face. The ruffian cried out and started crawling in the other direction.
“Get moving, fearless leader!” hissed Vordius, cursing his own slow-moving body. Then he turned to the girl. “Let’s make for the river!” He pushed aside the body in the doorway.
They found the exit to the landing quickly. Gripped by fear, Vordius imagined a horde of cutthroats drawn by the sound of fighting, but the storehouses on the landing were abandoned and empty. Soon, however, they heard voices and saw flickering lights behind them. They would be foolish to expect miracles.
“We have to find a boat!” Vordius commanded. “Fenia, you look to the left. I’ll look to the right. Sorgius, find some oars!”
“Yes,
