Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

“Great!” said Jimmy. “It’s a cellar door, off its hinges.”

 

 

Jimmy got his fingers in the crack and pushed. “I can’t get any leverage.” He said, “Let go,” and as Malar complied, Jimmy jumped down to stand before his servant. “No way to get it open.”

 

“Are there no stairs in this accursed dungeon?” Jimmy chuckled. “Hardly a dungeon; a maze, no doubt. But you’re right and I’m an idiot.” He sighed theatrically. “There are several places with stone steps up to basements.” He looked around in the gloom, barely illuminated by the faint flickering of his torch. “If I’m not mistaken, one isn’t too far from here. Pray to whatever gods you worship that the top of the steps is unblocked.”

 

Malar muttered an almost silent benediction and followed behind Jimmy.

 

 

 

 

 

Dash heard something ahead of him in the dark and whispered, “Don’t move!”

 

The men behind him stopped their forward motion as sounds around them echoed. “What is-—” began Talwin.

 

He never finished as Reese struck him from behind, knocking him from his feet. “Here!” he shouted.

 

Suddenly men were swarming in the dark and lanterns uncovered, blinding Dash momentarily. He blinked trying to see beyond the brilliant lights, but could only see dark shapes hurrying toward him. Thinking of nothing else to do, he leaped forward, trying to dodge between two of the shapes. One man lunged at him, missing, while the other was slow in turning, with Dash past him before he could be intercepted.

 

Dash slogged as quickly through the knee-deep water as he could, and behind a pair of lanterns he saw movement. Dodging to his right, he rushed to another potential exit as arms grabbed him from behind, dragging him down into the water.

 

Dash turned, kicking hard, and felt his foot strike the man’s leg. Dash scuttled backwards in the water, and another man seized him. A voice in the gloom said, “They’re making too much noise! Shut them up!”

 

Dash felt pain for a brief moment as someone struck him hard behind the ear with a billy club, then he sank into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

Jimmy pushed the trap up and with relief he found that it moved. He glanced around under the slight opening he created, and seeing no movement, he heaved. The large wooden trap swung over, to crash noisily against the floor behind him. He hurried up into the dark room as a cloud of soot exploded into the air from the trap.

 

Malar sneezed as he came up. The room was the back storage area of a tannery near the river to the north of the city, and it had taken Jimmy most of the day and into the evening to discover it.

 

The roof of the building was gone, probably accounting for its being abandoned, as the nights would still be cold. Jimmy looked around and saw lights in a few buildings nearby, but nothing close by. Malar could be seen in the faint light inside the building. “If I’m as dirty as you, we’d better stay out of sight.”

 

“Good advice, young sir,” agreed the servant. “You are dirtier than a coal seller. One glance at us, and any fool could tell we had been somewhere we should not be.”

 

A sound caused Jimmy to hold up his hand. “What—”

 

At once he pulled his sword, as men came swarming into the room, over the burned-out wall and through the single door. Only a fool would fight, as more than a dozen swords were leveled in their direction. Jimmy made a clear gesture of letting the sword fall from his hand as he stepped back.

 

Hands roughly grabbed him and tied his arms behind, while two men did the same to Malar. They all wore rough fighting garb, leadier, and gambesons, but no metal armor, which would make noise and warn away someone coming up through the trapdoor.

 

With a heavy accent, a man came to stand before the two and said, “Watch a rat hole long enough, and a rat peers out, eh?” Glancing at Malar, he said, “Or two.” To the men he said, “Bring them along,” and Jimmy and Malar were hustled out the door and down the street.

 

 

 

 

 

Dash waited in silence. He had recovered his wits as he was taken to what he presumed had once been an underground storage shed. There was no light. He had explored his environment by touch and on a couple of occasions wished he hadn’t.

 

It was a roughly twelve-by-twelve-foot room, with a single door barred from the other side. He felt up and down both edges, but all hinges and locks were on the other side. He was inside until someone released him. From the stench, several rodents had recently died in the room. Had he eaten in the last two days, he probably would have added to the mess, but his captors would have to be satisfied with subjecting him to a fit of the dry heaves.

 

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