Spoiler
Spoiler
The country of Maliel has been taken by the Duritanian Empire. A masked vigilante has been killing Duritanian soldiers in broad daylight and getting away with it, pushing the new government into a frenzy. Camden Bartolv, the rebel leader, is arrested after being betrayed and is saved by the Masqurader. When Camden finds out the hero is the hated puppet queen, once princess of Maliel, he finds himself forced into an unwanted, but necassary alliance. Now, after five years of Duritan's tyrannical rule, the Malieans may truely have a chance.
Camden waited a minute to see if they would double back at Ranael's insistence and dashed across the street when no one could be seen. He didn't slow until he was inches from the protection of the shrubbery. Slipping behind them, he crouched, so no one from the street could see him, and felt the brick wall. He avoided the thoughts of discovery or not finding the door. He moved farther to his left, his hands searching the wall carefully. There was a possibility one of the gardeners had found it, reported it. It could be closed up and hidden to him forever. He had to hope it wasn't.
Thinking he could remember the general location, Camden hadn't done his homework, hadn't spread a quiet offer for information from those who know things they shouldn't. With every clatter of a carriage's wheels, every set of hurried footsteps slapping against the cobblestones, he regretted his decision.
His fingertips rushed over brick and mortar, and he sighed in relief when they found the loose brick. Slipping it out of its place, he flipped a switch on the left side of the hole and placed the brick back securely. He rushed to the back door that had puzzled the Duritanians who had taken it into their possession with the lack of key. Camden turned the doorknob quickly and opened the door with a smile. As he closed the door quietly, the soft clatter that could be mistaken for the patter of a rat's feet approached him through the walls. The loudest sound in the silent house was the click of the lock returning to the position it had kept for years. It seemed to echo through the empty kitchen and alert the treacherous monster upstairs.
Camden waited for the movement upstairs to cease before creeping away from the door with the barely audible rasp of his soft soled shoes against the the tile. Blind in the pitch black of the windowless room he ran his hand along the painted walls, praying no reconstruction had taken place. He couldn't afford to get lost in his father's house at this point. Turning into what had been the dining room, he ran into a table much longer than he remembered and knocked something that sounded expensive when it shattered onto the floor.
Mumbling began upstairs, and instead of freezing, Camden hurried around the table, out of the room and into the main hall where the meager light made its way through a window above the door, painting the hall and stair soft silver. The light favored the cheap carpet and dark wood of the staircase, creating a wealthy appearance where one had been frugal. Fading colors brightened at the mystic hues of night as shadows made the ordinary an artifact.
Harsh golden candle light warned of another coming. Camden blew through his teeth, looking for a place, any place, to hide in wait, and finally flattened himself against the staircase. Readying his dagger, he waited, breathing slightly as to make no sound, and watched for the light to spill onto the steps above him.
There was a rough grumbling and heavy footsteps as the monster emerged from his cave.
Camden tensed and moved slowly behind Gane, waiting to attack when he was off of the last stair. Watching Shaebor put the candle on the table at the edge of the stairs, he took one deep breath.
Gane was in a headlock before he knew of Camden's presence. “Are you ready for your penance, traitor?” he murmured, pressing the point of the blade into his back as a promise.
Gane sucked in air desperately, clawing at his assailants arms. “What'd I do?”
Camden laughed, riding a wave of anger, and whispered, “I think you know.” He released him with a snarl, sheathing his dagger, and kicked him as he cowered on the floor. “You're not a coward too, are you?”
Tears of terror where glittering in Gane's eyes. “No. No, of course not,” he whimpered.
“Then get up.” When Gane only stared, Camden yanked him up by his collar. “You scum, I said get up.” He pushed his hostage back up the stairs. He pulled his hood low, so Gane could make his own assumptions on his identity, and shoved him on the last stair, making Shaebor trip. “Can't trust a noble for nothing, can you Shaebor? You're in it for money, a position, never for anything true.” Ranael's face flashed in his minds eye. “You're always stabbing a friend in the back, always betraying someone for your own gain.” Her head leaned in towards Fenrir's confidentially.
Gane tried to crawl away from Camden, ending up with his back to the wall. “What do you want? Money? I don't have any. Power? Don't have any.”
Camden drew his blade again. “Then why betray the rebels? That makes no sense, Shaebor.” The Masquerader disappearing into the smoke.
Gane watched the dagger flashing in the poor light and licked his lips. “Protection...”
Camden laughed coldly. “I forgot, all of you are greedy bastards, only caring about your own damn selves.” Her surprised expression as she disappeared behind a wall.
Gane's eyes flashed, despite the weapon being brandished in his face. “Protection for my wife. Do your research. They've got my wife. I'm trying to get her back.”
His anger fizzled and died. Her struggles and screams over her father's corpse. “Of course. That's it.” His voice retained the disbelief as his eyes softened. He threw the dagger down, barely missing Gane's leg, and lifted him up once more. “You want to get out of this house, and tell whoever you're giving information that they shouldn't put anyone else in this house, or this'll happen again.”
Gane nodded furiously.
“Alright then. I'll be leaving.” Camden dropped him and made his way to the back of the house.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
Three knocks boomed against the door, and Camden rushed into another room.
“Gane! We know what's going on! Let us in, or I'm going to break down the door.”
Camden stood in the shadows, listening to Gane scramble down the stairs.
“Yes?”
“You're under arrest for treason against the Empire.”
Camden frowned and backed farther into the dark room.
“What?”
“We know you are the Masquerader and killed Duritanian soldiers and the high Coron.” “You've got it all wrong. I was just attacked by the Masquerader.” His voice held a thread of panic. “He's upstairs.”
Camden raced toward the closet and threw the doors open, cursing softly when coats greeted him. Pushing them aside, he stood in the middle of the closet and jumped. The sudden weight triggered another series of gears, and he fell through a pantry and onto a pile of moldy hay that hadn't been touched to his relief.
The angry shouts of the elite guard echoed throughout the house at finding no one there. There was one sharp cry of Gane's, and all went silent.
Camden went cold and was jolted into action by the front door slamming shut. He raced toward a window and opened it, lifting himself up and out of the house. In the backyard, he waited for the sounds of the departing squadron to disappear and moved when the silence of early morning took over again. He began walking towards home, glancing behind him every few moments, and finally darted into a shadowed doorway.
Someone turned the corner he had just turned and looked around, dumbfounded. They walked forward and stopped again, looking around hesitantly. He watched them reveal a dagger and licked his lips.
“You can come out. I just want information.” Ranael turned quickly, brandishing her weapon, when Camden came out of the shadows. She frowned at the hood shadowing the face and said bravely, “I won't hurt you if you lower the hood.” Slowly, she backed against the far wall, so she couldn't be attacked from behind and sheathed her blade, holding her hands away from her body.
Camden's mind was racing. Ranael was supposed to be with Fenrir. He pushed the hood back, studying her carefully. “Ranael, what are you doing here?”
She stared and shook her head. “What were you doing at Shaebor's?”
“It's not Shaebor's.” He couldn't believe the anger flaring within him at such a small mistake. “The house is my father's.”
Ranael sighed in exasperation and demanded, “Why were you at that house, Camden? You could have been caught, and Gane would have gone free.” She was seething, had been since she realized someone had beaten Gane before Fenrir had gotten there.
“You sent the guard?” Camden approached her and said angrily, “You could have had me killed! Did you see me and think it might be fun to see me sweat a little in Fenrir's possession?”
Confusion flashed in her eyes and then understanding. “I had no idea you were there.” She calmed quickly and realized he was suspicious of her and Fenrir. “I was trying to send a message, tosay that everyone was in danger regardless of whether you gave information or not.” She laughed and began to turn away, hoping Camden would leave it at that.
Cold steel stopped her from going any further. “Camden, what is this?”
“Do you think I'm going to let you go back to your castle without knowing why you're so friendly with Fenrir?”
“Camden, this is ridiculous.”
“No, it's wary.” He pulled the weapon away and shoved her against the wall, finding the anger released at his father's house not yet dispelled. “He's a Terrible, and you seemed pretty happy to be with him.”
She scoffed. “Camden, you are an imbecile. I was using him. He's the leader of the elite guard.” She struggled against him uselessly. She didn't have the body strength needed to fight him off, and she was at a disadvantage with her expertise being in archery, not hand to hand combat. “I thought we were allies,” she spat and watched his face as he realized what he was doing.
He backed away and shook his head. He cleared his throat, unable to believe he had just attacked one of his scarce allies with some power, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hate you,” he admitted. “Hate you, and I don't know how this is going to work because you hate me too. We're two people who have no idea what they're actually doing in this messed up situation, and we have no idea where we should go. My... group isn't actually ready for any warfare. They're a bunch of angry people with pitchforks and a cause. I haven't really organized anything, and you-” He motioned toward her wordlessly for a moment. “You work solo, killing one here and another there, adding to morale and getting the Empire angry. What are we actually doing, other than sabotaging each others' plans?”
Silence followed his speech, and Ranael looked away from his demanding eyes. “So, we're two hopeless people floundering in this see of darkness, making little ripples that do nothing but agitating the waves throwing us around?” She swallowed and pulled up the hood of her burgundy cloak made for show, not use.
“We're barely making ripples,” he hissed. She nodded and asked softly, “Than why don't we change who we are, what we're doing to make those ripples?” She watched him for a moment as her words hung in the air and hurried away, toward the castle before he could reply.
Camden stared after her, but made no move to stop her. He hid his face in the comfortable shadows of his hood again and disappeared into the dark, thinking of what Ranael had said.
