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Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood
Chapter 3
Sylvester Hands grovelled in front of Lord Fear.
"It's true your Lord...your magni mag..your poshness." He turned around, as though looking out for someone overhearing their conversation which considering they were in Lord Fear's palace at Marblehead would have been an achievement. Lord Fear took a step away from Hands, the smell was almost overpowering, he considered that if further quests did happen that he could just put Hands in front of the Dungoneer and they would pass out straight away.
"Where did you get the information? And if you say a bloke told me in a tavern…"
"It weren't a tavern, your poshness."
"No?"
"It were an Inn." Lord Fear rolled his eyes.
"Did you verify it?" Lord Fear asked Hands, then as Hands started to look panicky, he remembered Hand's limited vocabulary and changed tack.
"Did you check it out?" He said slowly.
"Well...it was difficult see? I couldn't get near the castle, the guards kept telling me to get lost and wouldn't talk to me and I found some of the servants and they told me to get lost too so I went to…"
"The Inn." Lord Fear guessed. "Yes go on. Really…"
"Well they was an 'orse cleaner there and he'd…"
"'Orse cleaner?!" Lord Fear queried.
"I think he meanssss 'Groom' lordness."
"Oh right. Yes go on Hands." Thinking that between Hands and Lissard he was in danger of suffocating.
"Well he'd just lost his job at the castle. So I 'membered what you said about charm and I bought him drinks cost me a bit that did." Hands looked meaningfully at Lord Fear. Lord Fear glared back, Hands may have the intelligence of a watermelon but on some matters, like money for instance, he was surprisingly sharp.
"Well he told me you see. So I arsked around you know… even though it it was like a long time ago, it's still local gossip see." Lord Fear smiled triumphantly and displaying a desire not to be gassed or drowned took another subtle step away from Hands and Lissard. Unfortunately they closed around him again.
"Hands." Lord Fear said and clapped him on the shoulder, which he instantly regretted and took it away again and tried to wipe it surreptitiously on his clothes. "I'd like to thank you for introducing me to a new concept." Hands suddenly looked very worried. "Being pleased with something you've done. Good job Hands." Hands looked like he was about to speak again anticipating him Lord Fear nodded.
"And yes you'll be reimbursed..you'll get your money back." As Hands walked away Lord Fear muttered.
"Though I'll probably end up being overcharged."
"I don't undersssstand Lordness." hissed Lissard. Lord Fear shook his head.
"Hardly surprising… what particularly don't you get?"
"How does thisss information help usss? Treguard is your prisssoner."
"Long term planning Lissard. Undoubtedly the Powers that Be will try and free Treguard and under the highly unlikely premise they succeed, I have this to control him with after." Lord Fear chuckled. "Who'd have thought it though eh? Always so high and mighty, and all the time…." He chuckled a little more.
"But Treguard does not know lordness." Lissard insisted, still puzzled.
"He will when I tell him." Lord Fear said.
"But won't he think it isss a trick?"
"Not when he sees." Lord Fear smiled malevolently. "Ah! The devastation that can be wrought by the truth!"
Lord Fear had Treguard prisoner in the bowels of Marblehead. The extensive sewers of Goth ran underneath the tower and emptied into the great Mire. The sewers were so extensive they also carried the filth from Linghorm which lay on the other side of the Great Mire. Instead of the bone cell he'd used to trap Hordriss, Lord Fear had created a cell, the dankest, darkest filthiest cell he could. He'd placed it near the sewers specifically so Treguard could have the full benefit of the foul smell they exuded. It was a dark place, where light rarely penetrated. Treguard found that opening and closing his eyes made little difference. At times a very small amount of light would penetrate the small barred opening in the cell door. Outside all he could see was a stone wall that occasionally had flickering torches in iron brackets hanging from it. He felt more anger at his actions than sorry. He had allowed Lord Fear to goad him and that had lead him here. He'd known it was trap. But sometimes in order to see what that trap was it had to be sprung. Instead of thwarting Lord Fear he had aided him. He lay unmoving on the narrow stone bench. The pain Lord Fear had caused him subsiding. After Lord Fear had caught him, he stood over him gloating. Treguard had encouraged this since it delayed the inevitable pain that he'd been certain was heading his way. Then Lord Fear had cast spell after spell at him, twisting his insides, scrapping every nerve, pulling him apart. Mercifully he'd passed out quickly and woken up here. He was grateful not to be dead, though he was at a loss to understand why.
"How are we doing old chap?" Lord Fear's cheerful greeting cut through the silence. Treguard lifted his head slightly to look through the barred window in the cell door. Pain shot through his neck and down his spine. He groaned slightly and lowered his head gently back to the bench.
"Oh dear. Still hurts does it?" Lord Fear's insincere concern mocked him. He could feel the anger boiling in his gut but kept a neutral expression on his face. Lord Fear leaned against the cell door watching Treguard carefully, he wanted to see the man's expression and revel in his pain.
"There's something I've always wanted to know. Did you really think that the crusade would head to Acre? Even after Alexios the whatever had convinced your leaders in Zara to go to Constantinople?"
He didn't raise his head this this time, but turned his head to look at Lord Fear with a frown.
"All right. I admit it! I don't actually care. I just wanted you to know that I'd done my research!" Lord Fear grinned gleefully. Outwardly Treguard kept his neutral expression, inwardly however he had started to panic. His past actions as a mercenary caused him much shame. So much so that he buried that part of his life deeply within his consciousness. Years had passed since he had last thought of those days. But it was known to the opposition, but as he came to think of it they had never mentioned it before. Which meant Lord Fear had found something new. Anxiously Treguard was searching his memories. Relatively speaking there had been few repercussions from that life he'd tried so hard to forget. He felt foolish for not considering that sooner or later it would catch up with him. Treguard's mind suddenly froze. Lord Fear had mentioned Zara. He kept control of his panic, and looked at Lord Fear in a bored way.
"It took a lot of work. But I recently located an old compatriot of yours. Stocky man, sicillian? Alessio? Quite willing to sell me all he knew about you for gold."
Not all that surprising, after all that was the meaning of the word 'mercenary', Treguard thought.
"He told me all the fascinating details of your holiday in Zara."
The neutral expression had gone, his eyes had widened and his chest was rising and falling more rapidly. Lord Fear could feel the thrill, he intended to draw this out and to savour every moment.
"His description of a night in late April that really interested me. After a hard time looting and pillaging. Driving people from their homes, burning the city. A man has to find a way to relax, I understand." He smiled gleefully again. "But the details were sketchy at best. Still I had a feeling so I followed it or rather I had Sly Hands follow it for me. Do you know what I found?"
Treguard had sat up and was giving him an icy stare. Lord Fear waited, watching him as a cat watches a mouse before he pounced.
"Eufrusina." He let the word hang in the air. He could see that Treguard was as tense as a coiled spring, all it required was a slight nudge to push him over.
"Tell me, was she willing?"
It took all of Treguard's willpower not to rush to the door and pound on it angrily. He wanted to wipe the smug expression off the man's face. His boiled with fury which only served to increase the look of satisfaction on Lord Fear's face. He tried to set his anger aside and think. Lord Fear was clearly working towards something and milking his reaction for all it was worth. A quiet voice from the back of his mind managed to briefly be heard through the torrent of anger he felt. The girl...
"Nine months latest she received a souvenir." Lord Fear grinned gleefully. His words hit Treguard like a bucket of iced water. The anger was gone. In it's place was the face of a woman he barely remembered.
"That's right." Lord Fear gloated. "A lovely little girl called Catrina." Lord Fear knew he would replay in his mind the expression on Treguards face the instant his cosy little world turned upside down. It would be his favourite memory. Isolated and imprisoned in Marblehead there would be little he could do. Lord Fear turned and walked a few steps before snapping his fingers as though he had forgotten something and returning.
"I've extended her an invitation to the castle. I know you must be anxious to see her."
Treguard wasn't aware of Lord Fear walking away. At that moment the air had been sucked from his lungs. Regardless of how many deep breaths he took it did nothing to ease the suffocation he felt. He leaned against the cool stone wall, and took long deep breaths hoping to ease his light-headedness.
He had a daughter.
The words held no meaning. He couldn't digest them. They spun endlessly around his mind driving all other thoughts away. He should have known there would be a price for his actions. That simply killing a dragon was not enough to wipe out ten years of hate. Possibly it had cleansed his sword but he had never really felt that it had cleansed him. Even at the time it had felt odd, paying for everything he'd done, the lives he had taken by taking one more life. In the immediate few years that had followed his repentance, he had spent the time looking over his shoulder, metaphorically speaking, at any moment expecting someone to demand justice for something he had done. He thought he had considered everything, from a relative demanding justice for a loved one to some one looking for a beloved family heirloom and the lord knew how he would have dealt with that. But not this. He had known women in his time, perhaps arrogance had convinced him that nothing would ever come from that. He wondered how much Lord Fear knew, and quickly realised that if he had spoken to Alessio it meant he knew everything. He was probably saving the best for future gloats, he would just have to bear it the best he could.
