The hum of the engine, the lack of a soft space and the nasty sharp pain of the bruise on his side is what kept him awake through the afternoon on the boat ride to the place that the old boatman Samuel called 'The Hound Pits Pub'. Throughout, Corvo's head drooped up and down, his back hunched, and his eyes fluttered tiredly, but in no way was there any chance to rest, not until he finds even the slightest of soft mattresses to lay upon, and soft hands treat his wound.
In the setting sunlight, he made out a building of typical Gristolian brick architecture, several stories high and with a painted sign that depicted blood hounds, advertising the name 'Hound Pits Pub'. There was another building next to it, closer to the water and right next to the docking bay they were about to get off at; it looked like a garage of sorts, based on the metal lift door it had, but there was no way to see inside. And the building just right of the Hound Pits main area seemed much more of an industrial building; a brewery most likely, or another whale oil production plant, which is plausible given it being a strategically sound area for business of a Pub to be where Industrial workers can wind down during break or after work.
Samuel slowed down the boat and turned it to parallel the stone dock, then he turned off the engine and the side of the boat thumped. Samuel immediately got off with some ropes and began to tie down the boat.
"You should go see Havelock and Pendleton in the Pub," said the Old man. "I assume they want to congratulate you on your escape."
Who is Havelock and Pendleton? Corvo thought. Was it THE Admiral Havelock? Was this Pendleton one of the Pendleton siblings? This wasn't a question that Corvo wanted to ask the Old man, but instead find out himself; he didn't want to speak in general, for he was in no mood. With that advice Samuel gave, Corvo took it and stepped out of the book, grimacing and holding his side to another sting. He continued on past the archway, to his left was the lift door he noted, and he could barely make out a whale oiled powered drill running. Who was on the other side? What other people would be here besides Samuel, this Havelock and this Pendleton?
He reached the back door, placing his palm upon the knob, and thinking for a moment to himself about whether he made a mistake trusting the Old Boatman, if he had gotten himself into an even worse situation. The only way he would find out is by entering the Pub, with a hand behind his back. So he turned the knob, opened, and found inside a welcoming sight, at least more welcoming than a prison cell. It had the layout of a common Pub, one side being the bar area with glasses and barstools, the other side of the wall being a series of cushioned booths. But more importantly he heard a broomstick being swiped on a floor just to his left. He turned his head and saw a woman, nearly his height with black hair and a maid's uniform.
She reacted to his coming in: "Oh, my…" and set the broom aside the fireplace. "Lord Attano…" She stood in front of him and curtsied. "My name is Lydia, I'm a servant under Lord Trevor Pendleton."
Corvo didn't speak, but made his meaning clear when he tilted his head.
"Oh, you must be looking for Lord Pendleton and Admiral Havelock," she said, then pointed to a place on the other side of the room. "They are right over there, my lord." He saw the two, a large burly man with square jaw, a scarred complexion, grey hair and dressed in a naval uniform. The other was clean cut brown hair, short, big ears, small eyes, subtle coloring of his high class outfit; an all-around snobbish looking man. So that's them?
Corvo nodded to Lydia, then quickly made off
"A pleasure…" she said, and when he was out of earshot she added in a mutter, "A more formal 'thank you' would have been nice…but a pleasure." And she went back to sweeping.
Before Corvo reached them, he slowed to hear the conversation they were having whilst they were unaware of his presence. Without a doubt, their voices fit their look.
"It's starting at last, Admiral," said the noble one, his voice higher pitched and couth-like. "Lord Attano escaped from Coldridge Prison. We provided the tools necessary, and he executed it like it was nothing."
"Yes, not surprising," said the Admiral, his voice much deeper and more stern. "He was the personal bodyguard of the Empress…you've heard the stories."
"Yes, I have. It still amazes me that someone could get to the Empress and young lady Emily."
"No one knows the real story, Trevor. We all have our suspicions; we'll know the truth in time." If these are the men that broke him out, then why is it that the Old Boater said they knew he was innocent? More things that need to be answered, of course…
"He's strong and quick. But I hope he understands subtlety as well."
"This isn't one of your fancy dress parties; the reality is that we need men killed…have you ever killed a man?"
"Only with my wit…but Lord Attano has. He made a slick escape, but surely you've heard what he has done to the guards."
"Yes. It was a bloodbath; thirteen killed, gruesomely. That just proves how dangerous he can be, and how perfect he is for our plan."
"I admit: I look forward to meeting him. However, Farley, I'm not keen on trusting him one hundred percent just yet. Knowing what happened to him during his six months and his…slaughter fest…I fear the man we helped break out may have developed the mind of a dangerous sociopath. He may be uncooperative, or make a mess of our plans, drive the state into further chaos."
"Don't be quick to regret our motions, Trevor. After all, we can't judge the man just yet, not until we…" The Admiral cut himself off when he saw Corvo appear behind Pendleton. "The man of the hour is here." The noble turned, and in his eyes, Corvo could just barely make out some fright of his sudden appearance. "Lord Attano, I'm Admiral Havelock," said the Admiral, dipping his head and raising a fist to his chest in greetings. "A true servant of the Empire, like you; until the Lord Regent purged those of us who wouldn't recognize his claim on the throne."
"And I'm Lord Trevor Pendleton," said the noble, giving a formal bow. "I represent the nobility in our little group; but we all act as equals here at the Hound Pits Pub."
"This is a momentous occasion, Lord Attano," the Admiral said, grabbing a pint of Ale from the counter. "I'm going to come out with it: we've been building a coalition of loyalists, aimed at ending the Lord Regent's tyranny, and restoring the throne."
"At risk of execution, we're committed to finding young Lady Emily and seeing her crowned as Empress," said Pendleton.
"We have big plans, Lord Attano, and we can't do any of them without you. We need your skills, your ability in a fight. And in helping us, we're going to help you destroy the men who murdered the Empress, and clear your name." So, they either are great liars, or they only mildly doubt Corvo had killed the Empress. With the words the Admiral had spoken, it is clear that they want him to think that they don't believe he killed the Empress, and that he can trust him. But they sound sincere...it doesn't take a lie reader to figure they are truthful.
And a chance to exact revenge on those bastards that framed him and had his beloved killed? This is the best opportunity he has to satisfy his blood lust for Campbell and Burrows, for their souls to be obliterated and sent to a special reservation within damnation, for them to answer to death's relentless justice…Corvo's stomach quivered in delight at the thought.
More importantly, they believe that Emily, his beloved daughter, is alive. This alone had fought back against his uncontrollable urge to kill things, clouding the thoughts of him slicing up the men who wronged him. Corvo HAD to believe she was alive; no…he knew she was alive somewhere. It was his paternal instinct: he could FEEL her alive, it was in his gut. If he had to kill every man to get to his daughter, he would do it. But if he had to spare every man, to let them live and allow them to tear the Empire apart, he would still do it, just to see the only family of his left. Avenging his beloved is second; his promise to her is first.
"Emily…" Corvo whispered under his breath, the only words from his mouth that these two would hear from him all day. The pain from his bruise suddenly came back, and he grunted and held it.
"Oh, our apologies for not noticing you were hurt," Pendleton said. "We'll be at your service tonight. I'll have Cecilia draw you a bath and give proper medical attention, you could desperately use the cleaning and grooming. In the meantime I'll have Lydia and Wallace prepare a nice meal for you to eat; you must be starving."
He met Lydia, but who were Wallace and Cecilia? They must be other personal servants to Lord Pendleton. However, it wasn't as if he was excited to meet more new people. All he wanted was a quiet solitude to think of his little Emily and his lost beloved, and imagine the day when they reunite.
Corvo nodded his thanks to him, showing his gratitude apart from his unpleased expression and his solemn silent nature. After all, the silence was all his heart could take.