Kings, Dungeons and Castles: Part I
"If you can't open a door, you just make a new one."
~From 'Crooked Kingdom'
Twenty fifth day of Greenroof, 1008
Edmund sat in the familiar silence, in a room—actually a cell—that was engulfed by darkness, only cut by the rough sun rays coming from the single window on the left stone wall. His legs were pressed against his chest and in boredom; he had rested his chin on his knees and started swaying like a child does when he has nothing to do. The shackles that bounded him tinkled soundly to produce an echo in the calm cell.
He had been counting, struggling to keep a record of time in the dark room. But now he calculated that it must be ten o'clock. Lomero was late—and Edmund had very specifically told him to not be late. Just as he was about to glower at the walls in frustration, a satisfying click came from the door.
"Finally," Edmund muttered as he left his seat on the ground and stood up, the shackles ringing louder than ever in the empty, echoing cell. He waited for the door to open and held out his hands, wanting Lomero to free him right away.
The metallic door opened and Edmund pulled back his hands for he knew that whoever was standing in the doorway and glaring back the way he had come was not Lomero for Lomero did not have fair hair. It must be his jailer. Frustrated, Edmund snorted and settled back down. Things can't possibly get worse, he thought.
Oh, how wrong he was.
The supposed jailer turned to face him, his eyes frantic and a worried look masking his face. Edmund could only stare, muttering a thousand curses silently.
"I'm going to kill you, Peter."
~o~
"What in the name of the Lion are you doing here?" His brother almost shouted the words but Peter merely went on the free him from the shackles with the help of the key he had—uh, borrowed—from the guard who lay dead outside, a clean slash on his throat.
"I won't ask you again. What are you doing here?" Edmund's voice was calm now and that was not good. Why were the shackles taking so long?
"Well," Peter began when the shackles abruptly clicked, opened and fell to the ground. "I thought that freeing my brother from the Terebinthian dungeon can't be a complete waste of time."
Edmund rubbed his sore wrists and glared at him furiously. Peter pulled out a shining, silver knife from his boot and tossed it to Edmund who caught it instinctively. Then, Peter led them both out of the cell. He first looked to his right and then to his left. Finding the hallway conveniently empty, Peter signalled his brother to follow him with a flick of his wrist. Edmund only rolled his eyes, obviously not happy that Peter was taking the lead.
Peter had his sword sheathed, not wanting it to be a hindrance in their stealth and instead had a knife, that had a golden hilt and lion's head, in his right hand. The corridors were eerily silent but Peter didn't mind. In fact, it was best that no one came their way.
"Peter, stop."
He ignored the rather abrupt command of his brother and kept moving ahead, silently gesturing Edmund to do the same. But Edmund being the stubborn little brother that he was seized his shoulder and forced him to halt. He turned around and whispered,
"What?"
"We have to find Lomero."
Peter blinked at him. "Who?"
Edmund only shook his head and said, "Just follow me and don't do anything stupid. You've already sabotaged half my plan."
Peter gaped at his brother, hurt. "Um, I think you're forgetting that I just rescued you from a dungeon, and what plan?" His brother shook his head again, this time more fiercely and in annoyance.
"Exactly. You shouldn't have come here. Just follow me," Edmund said and began moving ahead. Peter scowled but followed regardless. He would have a thorough talk about this with his brother when they returned.
Edmund had always been extremely stealthy. He could be standing right beside you and you wouldn't even know it. And he used this skill of his well as he moved exceptionally silently through the narrow corridors. He was so light on his feet that Peter, for a second, wondered if he weighed anything at all. In an abrupt moment, his brother stopped and Peter would have bumped into him if he had been moving a little faster.
"What's going on?" Peter asked as he looked past his brother at the wooden, carved door that Edmund was staring at. With a finger on his lips, Edmund hushed Peter and left his question unanswered. Peter frowned, wanting desperately to receive some explanations.
Edmund turned the doorknob and creaked open the door so that there was a small opening to peer through. Edmund peeked inside and then instantly pushed open the door as he rushed inside. Alarmed, Peter followed his brother into the room and had to cover his nose and mouth with his elbow.
A body was sprawled on the ground, his throat cut clean and a number of his bones broken. It was clear he had been tortured. Edmund knelt down beside the body and checked him for a pulse. Expectedly, he didn't find any and shook his head pitifully.
"Oh, Lomero. I'm sorry, friend," Edmund whispered, standing up.
"What happened? Who is that?" Peter questioned. He needed answers now.
"One of my best spies," Edmund answered and before Peter could ask him why he had spies in the castle of Terebinthia, Edmund continued, "He wouldn't have told them that he was working for me. But he's dead and that means my plan's been compromised. How were you planning to escape?"
Peter was taken aback by the sudden question. He blinked at his brother and said, "Well, I didn't really have a plan."
Now Edmund blinked at him. Then he gaped at him. Then he opened his mouth, paused and shut it again. And then finally, after swallowing a lump and shifting numerous times and clearing his throat, he simply said, "What?"
"Well, it's just me."
"Do you mean to say no one is waiting for us outside the castle? No Orieus? Peter, you can't be that stupid."
Peter took offense. He rather considered his actions brave and not stupid. "Orieus insisted that we wait. I, on the other hand, couldn't bear the idea of my dear brother being held captive for that long."
Before Edmund could respond with what would have been another hurtful comment, both kings turned to the door, put on alert by the sudden dull footsteps coming from outside. Edmund squared his shoulders and readied himself, so did Peter. Peter didn't know how many soldiers they would be facing, but he hoped the number would be fair.
"Peter?"
"Hmm?"
"If we live, I'm very likely to murder you."
Peter only smirked and unsheathed his sword, the thought only occurring to him now. He flung the dagger at his brother who caught it effortlessly. The brothers exchanged looks and stared at the door, waiting.
The door flew open and the number of soldiers that emerged in was not fair as opposed to what was hoped. There were seven guards, all armed with scimitars and swords, all with nasty smiles on their faces. One even had a bow and arrow with him. Their silver armors shone as Peter stared in anticipation. Unexpectedly, one of them moved forward and judging by the exceeding number of stars on his armor, Peter concluded he was their superior.
"You have two options. You can either come with us peacefully and no one has to get hurt or—and this one is not recommended—you can fight, lose and then come with us," the large man said.
The soldier looked at them triumphantly and Peter was about to slit the man's throat with Rhindon when Edmund stepped forward. Before Peter could stop him, Edmund handed the man his knives and the hideous grin covering the soldier's hideous face grew bigger as he took them from Edmund.
"Give Rhindon to him, Pete."
Peter stared at his brother, absolutely horrified by the idea of his sword being in the sweaty and disgusting hands of the man that stood in front of him with his chest puffed. Edmund inclined his head towards the general (that can be concluded to be true by now), evidently asking him to hand Rhindon to him.
"Well?" the general asked.
Peter swallowed a lump and considered the number of ways this could go. He could hand over his sword to the sneering general, who appeared as an unwashed and horrible smelling giant to him, and follow his brother's lead, or he could fight and risk his defenseless brother's throat getting cut in mere seconds. Not for the first time in his life, he didn't have a choice.
Reluctantly, he held out the sword towards the general, hilt first. Sneering, he took the blade and nodded at the rest of the soldiers. Peter struggled but Edmund went with the guards without any reluctance. What was he thinking?
As they were very rudely pushed forwards, Peter let his mind wander to the time when he had first heard the news of his brother's capture. Orieus had stood in front him with his head gravely bowed. And one of Edmund's guards, who his brother had chosen to accompany him to his diplomatic trip to Terebinthia, had hesitantly stepped forward but his words were caught in his mouth.
"Well?" Peter had asked, trying to read through his general and the faun.
"We were ambushed at night, my King. King Edmund was asleep and the guards were on their posts. The soldiers came swift. It was their castle and they took us by surprise, we were at a clear disadvantage. They slaughtered everyone who dared stand in their way and took King Edmund as their captive. I only survived because King Edmund had sent me to the docks to…look into some matters."
Peter had only stared at the faun, eyes wide and mouth closed. He had been terrified and shocked and enraged all at once. They had sailed with Splendor Hyaline in the next hour. Peter hadn't even stopped to say goodbye to his sisters. Without any doubt, the two queens would be furious with their brother when he'd return, well if he'd return.
They had stayed at a local inn only two miles from the Terebinthian castle. All it took was twenty gold coins to keep the innkeeper's mouth shut. They had arrived two days ago and in those two days, Peter had grown more and more anxious.
His general wouldn't allow them to invade the castle without a faultless and proper plan and for all Peter knew, it could have taken days. So he didn't wait, but instead foolishly decided to rescue his brother himself.
And now here he was, stumbling clumsily through the hallways, surrounded by seven heavily armed guards, probably being taken to be executed. Well done, Peter. You've succeeded in ensuring your and your brother's death.
"Move," one of the guards said as he was pushed through the impractically large doors.
Both he and Edmund were forced to their knees by the guards and their hands were bound behind their backs. He stole a glance at his brother who was staring ahead, looking amused. Peter looked up as well and found himself locking eyes with the fattest man he had ever seen. The man sat on his silver throne, which was bejeweled by diamonds and rubies. His skin was saggy and his neck nearly invisible, hidden by the fat.
"King Luis," Edmund addressed.
"King Edmund," Luis returned. "You have proven to be unduly troublesome."
"Well, in my defence, normally my hosts don't lock me up in cells."
The fat King laughed and Peter couldn't help but smirk himself. Then the King began in Terebinthian—a language that was utterly foreign to Peter but had been mastered by his brother in only weeks. Peter only managed to catch words that his brother and the King spoke. Just when Peter was about to lose interest, Edmund growled in Narnian,
"Leave my brother out of this, you fat pig!"
Peter glared at his brother in surprise. It wasn't normal for him to lose his temper, not Edmund. He was the calm one.
"What—what did he say, Ed?" Peter whispered.
But Edmund was clearly not listening to him, his gaze was fixed on the King, he looked offended and an offended king never meant anything good. Luis nodded at the guards and suddenly Peter was hauled to his feet and forced to stand against the wall, two guards holding him there.
He watched in horror as a silver armored soldier unsheathed his sword, walked to his brother and took his place behind him with his weapon raised above his head.
"No! Don't!" He struggled to free himself from the guards' hold, to run to his brother and chop off the soldier's filthy hands himself. But he was helpless. They were going to behead his brother right in front of him.
"NO!" his voice was loud enough to make everyone in the room stare at him.
"Calm down, Pete."
The voice was unexpected, very unexpected. Edmund was looking at him, his eyes urging him to stay put. To calm down.
"Calm…calm down?" The soldier brought down his sword. "NO!" The motion temporarily halted.
"Peter, shut up!"
Peter blinked, fluttered his eyes at his brother. How was he this calm? How could he ask him to be calm? And just as he was about to say the words aloud, the doors flew open and a most beautiful, red-haired princess that he recognized from her trip to Cair last year emerged in. She didn't even spare him one glance and immediately knelt beside his brother.
What?
The soldier stepped back, clearly shocked by the sudden gesture of the Princess. The Princess, Aesha, said in a desperate yet calm tone,
"Please, father, do not kill him."
Peter blankly stared open-mouthed at the red-haired girl, clutching to his bound brother's form. What in the name of the Lion was going on? He turned to Luis when he realized that the King was yet to answer to his daughter's plea. Luis shook his head, gained a proper posture and cleared his throat before saying,
"But my daughter, he is a traitor."
Peter clenched his jaw at the word. How dare he?
"He and his brother shall die and then we'll take their kingdom."
Aesha adjusted her hold on his brother, shifting even closer to him. She placed one fair hand on his chest. Peter couldn't see Edmund's face and he desperately wanted to. What was going on? Aesha slid her hand from Edmund's chest to his face, gesturing possessively. She then said,
"I love him, father. If you kill him, you kill your daughter."
Again, what?
Aesha had visited Cair once, had seen Edmund once and though she had spent most of her time with the Just King, it seemed nearly impossible to Peter to fall in love with someone you've been with for so little time. But all he could do was gape and let the uncertain hope take its place in his mind. It didn't matter why she loved him because she was saving their lives.
Amused and intensely satisfied by the Princess' statement, he turned to Luis again. The King had frozen in his throne, only staring ahead, probably wondering what he ought to do next. He fluttered his eyes once as if coming back to the present and spoke up,
"Then he shall live, only for you, my daughter. You can keep him, marry him if you wish."
Aesha laughed and embraced Edmund tightly. Luis then said, "Kill the other one." Before the guards could react to his command, Edmund abruptly freed himself from Aesha's arms and stood up. He said,
"No, my brother will live and if you dare touch him I'll make sure your daughter dies with me."
Taking some time to understand what Edmund had meant, Luis shifted uncomfortably in his throne. Edmund kept his eyes fixed at him, daring the King to refuse. Luis looked defeated when he said,
"Throw him in the dungeons then."
This time Edmund did not protest and Peter looked at him suspiciously. Edmund merely glanced at him apologetically and left with the Princess, disappearing out of the room in an instant. Peter was left to wonder if he would ever see him again and felt the sudden urge to punch his brother when he was thrown into the darkness of the dungeons.
~o~
Edmund followed Aesha silently and cautiously. She had managed to convince the guards that she would be safe with her lover and there was no need to escort them to her chambers. Edmund's footsteps gave no sound and he remembered the day he had mastered stealth.
"Take small steps, my King. Small and light as if you're stepping onto a cloud," Orieus had said, his sturdy upper body leaning heavily on the long sword whose blade had half dug itself into the damp soil of the training grounds. Edmund had frowned; he had been satisfied with his performance. He could sneak up behind his sisters and scare them half to death with a mere cough. But Orieus still seemed unimpressed.
"If you think you've achieved all you can, you'll never improve."
And that one sentence had worked like magic on him, had had such an effect on him that he worked harder than ever after that, learning to move like a cat, to hide in plain sight, to silence his steps. He had mastered stealth and his general was to thank for it.
"Come on in."
Aesha's voice brought him back to the present. He nodded and stepped inside the room he had been craving to get in for months now. He nodded again at Aesha and she returned the gesture as she took her place outside the room, keeping watch.
Edmund moved behind the large desk and pulled open the top drawer. The moonlight gave the papers a silvery shine but he was certain they would not appear any less appealing without it.
To be continued…
Author's note: Here I am with yet another short story. Too early? This one's only two chapters long and I did intend it to be a one-shot but it was too long for that. At first, I had a very vague idea of a heist of some sort. Then I worked on the details and added more as I kept writing it and this was the end result. I'm pretty pleased with it, very pleased actually. It did take a very long time to write so I hope it was worth it and I managed to make you smile at least once. Do leave a review if you liked it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated :-)
The quote: The quote at the beginning is from 'Crooked Kingdom'. It's a fantasy novel, sequel of 'Six of Crows' that follows six characters as they achieve an ultimate heist. The general inspiration for this story came from there. So, I thought it was only fitting. Go read the books if you like fantasy which you probably do since you're here :-)
Next chapter: Just how are these two going to get themselves out of this mess? The next part will be up as soon as possible. Reviews might help ;-)