"Refill, and then stay out here," Damyan ordered Jhon as he dismounted from Aelfred.
"Here? In the hot sun?" Jhon looked perfectly aghast. "Seriously? Why can't I go into the city?"
"If something goes wrong," Damyan explained once more, "one of us needs to be able to get away. Safely."
"What if I get thirsty?" Jhon pouted.
"That's why you're refilling the 20 waterskins," Damyan responded after pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine," Jhon pouted. "I'll refill the waterskins, water the camel, and wait for you near the city gates."
"And if they close the gates, go on without me. I'll catch up."
"How?" Jhon wondered. Damyan gave him an annoyed look. "Fine, fine, fine," Jhon agreed. Damyan hmphed before entering the walled city. "Damyan," Jhon called out, "be careful."
"Take care of Aelfred," Damyan replied before turning towards the city. He had work to do.
Damyan navigated the crowded streets, monitoring his person. He was in no mood to be pickpocketed. Damyan was an impressive figure, and people automatically moved out of his way. He didn't resemble other 18-year-olds. He was taller than many his age, definitely more muscular. No bulkiness. He wore animal skin pants with a loin cloth. A sword was hidden on his body. Two leather straps crossed his chest attaching a bow and a sword to his back.
Following the directions left by an unknown spy on the inside, Damyan expertly navigated dark tunnels, sewage dumps, and ditches before emerging in the kitchen. All conversation stopped as Damyan emerged from the secret door behind the pantry. Not wasting a second, Damyan withdrew his sword and pointed it at a dishwasher – who held his hands up in surrender. "Tell me where the sorceress resides or I will run you through with my sword," Damyan threatened. "Now," he pushed the point of his sword against the unarmed man's throat, drawing blood.
"Go out the door; take the stairs to the left; go to the end of the hallway, take those stairs; walk past all of the doors, take those stairs; then you're going to take the stairs in the hallway; her room is the second on the left."
"B-B-But she's bathing right now," a cook offered.
"Where?" Damyan was growing annoyed.
"Across from her room."
"Entrances and exits?"
"Just the window and door," a maid cried.
"And the plug at the bottom of the tub," another maid added, "you'll be able to fit."
"Alert anyone to my presence, I will come back here and kill you all," Damyan promised.
The occupants of the kitchen gave nervous nods. Satisfied, Damyan nodded and began his trek to the top of the castle.
"How are you today, sorceress?" the guard in front of her bathing room door asked.
"Don't call me that," Raven frowned at the stationary guard. Viktor, her Egyptian guard and only friend, smirked at her. "Is my bath ready?" she asked with a frown.
Viktor gave a nod. "The maids are already in there. How bad is it?"
"I'm still not used to the burning," Raven rubbed her aching arms.
"Well, I'll make sure you aren't disturbed," he smiled.
Damyan had reached the halfway point when a voice stopped him. Slaede. Looking around the corner, a deep rage filled Damyan's chest. Blood rushed in his ears, all he saw was red. Not thinking straight, Damyan loaded an arrow. His vision swam. Mara holding grandfather's severed head, mother's throat being slit. Today was the day Slaede died. Damyan would avenge his grandfather and - "Hello, Damyan," a female voice greeted. "It's nice to see you again." Damyan screamed at himself in anger. How could he have let his emotions get the better of him? He didn't even need to turn around to know who was behind him. Damyan gritted his teeth and said, "Mara."