Prakfura Raiders: Chapter Two: Pecking Order: Part One {Redacted}

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I pivoted on my heels, and pounded heavy boots into the cobblestone as I made my way up the passage. Lighting here was dim, but so was the prisoner I had just interviewed. The memory of him ground my teeth to dust.

I meandered my way up a flight of slimy stairs. At its peak a pair of portcullis were spiked low into a pool of black acid. I hailed the guard.

The crack of splintering wood resounded through the tunnel. A roar of flying chains dashed after the crack. Ugly dripping teeth smoked out from the liquid.

A broad plank was thumped across, allowing passage. Giving a rattling bunch of keys to the surly man sitting watch, I went through a narrow passage. My spurs clanked me up yet another flight of stairs. Here, arrow slits adorned the wall with their shadows. The stairs was followed by a small hall, seat of the Raymonds. I strode through towards a side tower, ignoring the fat mayor on his chair. Captain Aley! I heard a hail.

I glanced back, not slowing. “What do you want, Mayor?”

“Huh?” He sounded peeved, as though awakened from a fantasy, “What is it, Captain? Are you offering me something?”

I huffed out a breath, and entered the tower. At the top was a chamber I had acquisitioned as lodging. I reflected on the goose hunt my company had been ordered on the last few weeks. Some palace servant who thought it was their right to have a break. Why was he important anyway? Did the Emperor have a preference for men now? I pushed him out of mind, and clambered up yet more stairs, bronze leaves glittering in the moonlight.

Captain Aley! I turned at the top of the stairs.

“Who is it?” I demanded into the maze of shadow and light. No one replied. I creased my brows and shouldered aside a stout wooden door.

I cracked my neck from side to side, recalling the past few days. An informer had told of the location of a notorious outlaw, and we had detained the man. Not that he was much to fear. I pondered over what the mayor had told me regarding him.

Born into a small inn near the bridge between the warring states of Balasi and Verlisia, the young native of Rivercross had gained early infamy by being served up to the mayor on charges of petty theft. He had stolen his father’s ale. I shook my head at that. Dumb.

He disappeared during celebrations of his eleventh birthday, to the relief of all honest traders, and dismay of many of the street urchins who infested the town. He appeared in conjunction with a ruthless band of marauders for many years after that, rising through their ranks to lead them. Tracking his band was an impossible deed. In fact, some claimed that it didn’t exist, even though evidence of their raids stretched from the far east of Havarti, to the westernmost mountains of Verlisia.

Everywhere these raiders struck, they would engrave the head of a very elusive Runewood creature, the Prakfura. I grinned with savage satisfaction. That was a stroke of brilliant taunting.

I dumped my body onto a pile of straw littering the otherwise empty tower top. Captain? I peered at the entry, deciding in my mind that it was that pesky dwarf, Sankley.

“If you don’t leave by morning, I’ll stick your head on a pike and make soup from the rest of you, not that there’s much.” I growled into the dark.

Some would call me full grown, Captain.

“Get lost!” I rattled my newly acquired sword in it’s scabbard, admiring its intricate lattice of dragons all the while. The crystal on the hilt threw an odd glow, bright, then soft, and bright again. I frowned.

I am full grown, numskull.

I straightened. “What did you just call me?”

You didn’t hear?

I drew the sword and paced towards the door. “Show yourself!”

I’m right here. A taunting blabber followed.

“I grow tired of your antics, half-man.”

What antics? Blabber again.

“Step. Into. The light. Now.” I tried to sound commanding.

I’m right here! Came the taunting reply.

I peered down at the hilt, suspicious. "What exactly are you?" I wondered aloud, before quickly dismissing the notion. It could not possibly be living.

Not you. Came the reply. It sounded very much like the dwarf. I stepped into the stairwell and heard a soft pattering of feet. “Jale!” I hollered into the gloom. “Call Doctor Sankley up!”

"Aye Captain!" Came the answer, and footfalls thumped to their errand.

I waltzed down the stairs back to the hall, where Raymond still slumbered. I frowned displeasure at him, but said nothing. I stopped and tapped steel toes impatiently into the marbled floor.

"Could you stop that abominable noise, Captain?" The sluggard regarded me with half-lidded eyes.

"Could you stop that abominable laziness?" I shot back, smiling sweetly.

"What laziness?" He shook his drowsy head.

"The carpenters should begin work on the execution pit at once, mayor!" I barked, somehow still keeping the smile.

"They will begin at dawn and we will have an execution by nightfall." He waved his arm imperiously.

"I will be expecting one." I said, giving no further explanation.

His hand fell to the foot of his chair , where a talented mason had carved a wolf's head as a footstool. I found it ironic that anyone would be willing to place their feet on the most honored part of their coat of arms, but I kept that thought to myself.

He had an annoying habit of muttering softly the name "Nighteyes" while stroking it. I gritted my teeth, watching him perform again. Jale hurried into the hall.

"Captain?" He began hesitantly.

I kept on the smile, turning to face him. "Yes?" He, like everyone else in the company, knew very well the punishment that came along with failure.

His eyes crossed, betraying his frayed nerves. "The dwarf crossed the river to Verlisia just after we arrived, I'm told."

"You're told?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"I ascertained." He struggled to get the words out. "I mean, found out."

"Can you swear to it?" I yawned, not that I was tired. I simply wanted to show my contempt for his time-wasting.

His voice sharpened briskly. "I will find him, Captain!" He turned to go.

I crooked a finger in his direction. "Have I dismissed you?"

"No, Captain." Sweat broke out on his brow.

I stood silent, counting out the seconds as they passed. The man trembled like a reed on a breezy day. I smiled and motioned him in dismissal.

"I wonder why you terrorize your men so, Captain."

"I wonder that you let a criminal fester in your town and hold, mayor. Command the carpenters to begin. Now."

"You are not o--" He began, insulted.

"I am. Now, go, before Rivercross has a new mayor." He scurried from his chair. I smiled and leaned my head against my left shoulder, contemplating the recent events surrounding the sword. I decided I needed another conversation with the prisoner.

Retracing my steps to the cell, I rubbed my hands together for warmth. The guard still scowled at me, but a few words soon convinced him of the necessity of smiling in my presence. I told him to leave the portcullis drawn up and went on with him.

The prisoner still curled against the bar as I stepped into the passage adjourning the cell. A single torch perched in a rusting brass holder decorated with a dragon’s head. The light it cast wavered despite the lack of wind. I motioned the man to open the cage.

“See? Not so difficult.” Ryandrol spoke in a contemptuous tone.

I smiled in a fawning manner. "No, not so difficult." He did not see the undercut I threw at him. A log of a man plonked to the floor.

"Tie him to the wall. There, that torch holder would do just fine." I pointed at the torch.

"With what, ma'am?" The guard looked confused.

"Tear strips off you jerkin." He complied, and fast, too, I noted. After strapping the man up, I dismissed the guard back to his post.

I drew a small skinning knife from my belt. It wasn't the best tool for quiet stabbing, but skinning would do the job just fine.

A groggy blurb came from the stirring man. I smiled in anticipation. "So, captain, might we discuss more of your magic sword?" I leaned close to his ears.

No reply came. I played the knife over his forearm, and he twitched. Breaking point. "I might find use for good soft leather. Maybe a pouch?" I ran the knife back up.

The man gurgled out a laugh. "You really think I fear being skinned. Ha." He spat at me. "Go ahead. Take it all."

He's bluffing. The dwarf again?

How did he get down here? I thought out loud, swearing to punish Jale for his blunders.

The man's eyes lit up in sudden slyness. "You think just because you can wield my sword that you can control me. You're wrong. No one can control me."

"I'm not thinking of controlling you. I am."

"Yes you are, and no, you are not." He leaned forward, leering. "I can see it in your eyes. Uncertainty."

"You can cooperate, or you can-"

"Die?" He spat. "Dead men tell nothing."

I took off a patch of skin. He didn't seem to feel the pain, but the hilt of his sword began to glow a fiery red. "You know," he drew in a dramatic breath, "nothing of magic swords. At least you're wanting to learn some of its secrets. I'll tell you only one thing. The one who wields lies below."

"Below what?" I asked, curious. He cackled.

"You should never have touched it. Just like I should have never taken it from my own father." He laughed.

"That's not an answer." I took another patch. Smoke began curling.

"Oh, that is, it's just not one you're wanting to hear. Secrets are for those who ask. Nicely."

I gave a wan smile, taking off another patch. "So, the sword takes on your pain for you. Interesting."

"Aye, interesting."

Like the snap of a finger, realization flooded through me. This man would never betray the secrets of a magic sword. I sheathed the skinner. The man I left tied to the holder.

"You know what I look forward to, Ryandrol? Tomorrow. Your execution." I gave him my sweetest smile.

"You know what I look forward to, Aley?" He replied, mocking my tone, "Tomorrow, the day you find out what magic swords can do." He lolled his head back and gave a howl of laughter.

________

Spoiler note: I gave a cameo appearance to Nighteyes from Robin Hobb's novels. Just a little reference.

It might be easier on readers if they noted that I'm following the story, in first person the carriers of Fate, above following the carriers lives outside of carrying Fate.

I sort of rushed this chapter tonight because I have reviews to do and I couldn't write this before. This is a first draft, please tear it up!