Secrets of Arkana Fortress (25 page)

              Kelken’s attempt at a polite refusal had failed at the mention of alcohol on the menu. ‘Ah… well… it would be rude to refuse.’

              Pakros laughed.

              So did Breena, who was already strutting forward to the door.

              ‘Hold on a sec,’ Kelken called as he moved to follow. The pair of them went through the large door. ‘You won’t be eating alone you know?’

***

It was like a royal banquet that a King would have put on for all his noble subjects. However this one proved to be a bit different in ways of clientele.

              The common folk – your everyday workers, beggars, and housewives – were seated around four giant oak tables that each must have spanned about 15 metres in length and five in width. There were probably a hundred or so people in the expansive room feasting on the wide array of delicacies.

              This was something that the pair of them would not have expected. Neither of them minded, however, as they seated themselves at the end of one of the middle tables, not waiting to tuck into the exotically laid out selection of hearty foods and drink. Anyone would have thought that the pair of them had not eaten before now.

              As a large piece of chicken was ground between his teeth, Kelken nudged the man next to him – a burly looking human who looked as if he had seen his fair share of wars judging by the scars around his face – and gestured for him to pass the pitcher of ale nearby. The man grunted amidst a mouthful of beef and slid it over to Kelken’s waiting hand.

              ‘This is the life, eh, Breena love?’ He glanced over to his daughter who was daintily nibbling on some steamed carrots. He snorted a laugh. ‘Oh come on, get some chicken or whatever down ya.’

              She peered sideways at him and stuck her tongue out, the slight fork at the tip pointing at him accusingly. ‘I’ll grab some lamb when I’m ready.’

              Just then the main doors to the hall were opened by two attendants dressed in purple and red robes, and a swanky looking feline, dressed in regal blue and silver paraphernalia, swaggered in. Its tail swished this way and that behind it as it took in the sight of the crowds of commoners eating up the spread on the tables. There was something familiar about the feline, but Kelken couldn’t quite place it.

              ‘Ladies, gentlemen, fellow felines, and reptilians – eat hearty, and get drunk.’

              A cheer arose from the populace and an immense clapping of hands ensued. Breena looked at her father, shrugging before joining in.

              ‘Three cheers for our great host,’ a resounding female voice called.

              It was then that the cheering commenced: ‘
We Love Lady Pakros, We Love Lady Pakros, We Love Lady Pakros’.

              ‘
Lady
Pakros?’ Kelken mumbled with a wide-eyed look.

              Breena shrugged and turned to him. ‘Might be his wife or something.’

              As they looked on to the regal feline, she hopped up onto a table to address the crowds. ‘I am grateful that you are all here to share with me my late husband’s wealth and generosity.’ Her tail slowly hovered behind her as she snorted a laugh. ‘I’m sure he’s having a drink on us right now from beyond the grave.’ Her gaze locked onto the two mercenaries and what seemed to be a smile erupted onto her whiskered face. ‘Thankfully I am safe and sound, and I hope you all will join me in celebrating my guests of honour who saw to my protection.’ A pair of furry paws was held out in their direction, and the eventual hoard of eyes moved onto them.

              Breena dropped her lamb onto the plate and lowered her head, shifting strands of her fiery hair to cover her face, while her father moved to hide his with his hand.

              ‘Just what we fucking need,’ he grumbled with a snarl. ‘Fucking publicity.’

              ‘Didn’t you originally refuse to come in before the prospect of alcohol turned up?’ Breena whispered harshly, venomously.

              ‘Oh, this coming from the girl who was like a wild cat after a hunger strike!’ He glanced up in between his fingers and squinted at the clapping cat. ‘Wasn’t he… she human earlier?’

              Breena glanced up as well and then shook her head, defeated. ‘She was… he was… I dunno what the fuck is going on now.’

              ‘Let’s just keep a low profile for the moment,’ he mumbled.

              That was easier said than done, however. People wandered over, some intoxicated with mead and ale, and slapped them on the back, shook them by the shoulder, and hugged them with surprising tenacity. Women of all races huddled around Kelken, taking it in turns to peck him on the cheek. He thought it easier to just let them do it rather than try to fend them off to no avail.

              ‘Ack damn it.’

              ‘What’s up now, dad?’

              ‘That reptile girl just stuck her bloody forked tongue in my ear.’ He repeatedly wiped his left ear with the sleeve of his tunic.

              ‘Luckily I don’t have any women sticking their tongues down my ear,’ she stated as a matter of fact, a smirk on her face.

              ‘Your mother did that to me once and I went berserk.’ His eyes suddenly reflected his past, his feelings, and his torment. ‘I miss that woman. A proper feisty lady your mother was, y’know?’

              Breena pursed her lips and leaned her head onto his shoulder. ‘Gods rest her.’

              Kelken angled his head and looked down at his daughter. ‘Yeah… gods rest her.’

Chapter 19

Things had gone wrong. The place had been raided and methodically turned over, leaving it in a demolished state. Tables and chairs had been smashed into splinters, pictures slashed with knives, walls stained with blood, doors taken off their hinges – there was no end to the destruction.

              A blade was thrust into Dedrick’s shoulder, and he screamed with agony before grunting furiously in defiance from where he was seated.

              ‘Leave him alone!’ screamed Orlanna as she batted about in the grip of two masked soldiers.

              Captain Orellok, dressed in a dark red and blue tunic and plated armour, snorted at the masked men with a nodded. The one on Orlanna’s left swung his fist around and landed a blow to her stomach. Her face twisted as she yelped, nearly doubling over from the force of the blow ripping through her stomach.

              ‘Get your fucking hands off her,’ Dedrick roared as his aged frame rumbled into action. He was quickly kicked back into his place and left seething at the captain.

              Orellok’s smooth smile irritated him.

              ‘Just tell me where that little shit of a trader is, and I’ll leave you alone altogether.’ He tapped the old man’s face with his palm.

              Like an injured tiger Dedrick snapped at him, only to be pummelled by a gloved fist.

              ‘Don’t tell ‘em anything, Dedrick.’ Orlanna had given up on struggling against the strengthened hold on her.

              ‘Don’t worry, Orlanna,’ Dedrick spat. ‘I ain’t tellin’ ‘em nothin’.’

              Orellok laughed admiringly at the two captives’ resolve, clapping slowly, the clank of his gauntlets grating against their ears. ‘I must compliment you both on your steadfast defence. I’ve tried hard to get you both to spill the beans, but not hard enough by the looks of things.’ He kneeled down and stared into Dedrick’s glaring eyes. ‘I know you care for her, old man. She means everything to you don’t she, eh?’ His low voice was sickly and made Dedrick’s skin crawl wildly.

              ‘Orlanna isn’t going to say anything to a shithead like you, she’s said that much already.’ Dedrick grinned, blood pooling behind his bottom lip like rainwater in a gutter.

              ‘Who said I was on about your little whore? What about little princess Evie, eh? Sure she’s safe?’

              Was he bluffing it?

              Dedrick couldn’t be certain, but the prospect of his niece being in danger threw him. She was still a wanted woman, and for her to still be in Donnol was a mistake after her recent capture. He spat the blood out of his mouth and watched with glee as it trickled down the captain’s armour.

              ‘Fuck you. I know you’re lying now.’

              Orellok engaged his eyesight for a moment longer then sighed, lowering his head, his face a picture of disappointment. ‘If this is how it’s to be…’

              With a sharp move he slipped a knife from his belt and thrust it powerfully into Dedrick’s chest, the sharp tip piercing away what breath he had left.

              Amidst Orlanna’s screams of horror and angered curses, the captain twisted the blade, causing even more pain and damage. ‘… then you are of no more fucking use to me.’

              As quickly as the weapon had been plunged into his chest, Dedrick’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his arms flopped uselessly to his sides. Blood seeped from the fatal wound underneath his ragged shirt, his life ended.

              The air had stilled with death, and the only thing Orellok could hear was the faint sobbing coming from the defeated woman behind him. He raised a hand without looking at his men and heard nothing but a small mumble then the crumpling of a second body. He glanced over his shoulder and looked emotionless at Orlanna’s slit throat.

              ‘Place her body with the old man’s. The least we can do is respect the love they had for each other.’

***

There was some element of preparation regardless of what had just happened in Donnol. Dedrick had discovered that his position had been compromised by someone’s pillow talk, and he had taken appropriate measures in dealing with the loose-tongued culprit.

              Of all the priorities, Evie had been first. Getting her out of the city had been sorted quickly – the order had been that she was to be escorted to the port town of Pillin in the south by a small group of his best men to a secret holiday home and safe house he had down there for emergencies.

              Secondly, there was the case of his money. All of his rubos coins had been distributed to what family he had left, and a lump sum had gone with Evie to keep her well-off for a long time.

              Thirdly, his men were ordered to scatter and find their ways to various splinter cells of the Donnol rebellion, some located inside the city, and some not far from it in the surrounding areas. Orlanna, on the other hand, had refused to leave Dedrick on his own.

              ‘
But you have your whole life ahead of you
,’ he had said imploringly. ‘
Don’t waste it with a dying old man like me
.’

              No number of words deterred her.

             
‘You are my whole life, Dedrick. I love you.’

***

A violent sea-salt wind battered Evie’s face as she huddled inside her hooded overcoat – a thick, black animal fur with grey and brown streaks running across it. The biting chill of being at sea was proving to be a bit too much for her; her mind forever wandered back to her uncle. Was he safe? What had happened? The question that weighed foremost on her mind was whether or not she would find out.

              She and her three companions had commandeered a small fishing vessel capable of long distance journeys, and had set about hiring a skeleton crew using the small fortune Dedrick had left them with. The ship was weathered from its long service, but was a renowned Flakner fishing craft, known for its endurance and stereotypical longevity on the turbulent waters of the high seas.

              Regardless of such a bumpy ride and the general seasick vibe going through her three colleagues, she was resolute. She gripped a railing at the side of the deck and gazed across the nightly storm.

              ‘Where are we exactly?’ she called over to the sea captain, a surprisingly gaunt looking man whose initial appearance made him seem like a wimp. However, Evie had soon found his hidden physical strength when some rigging had come away and he single-handedly sorted it out, fighting against the winds as if they were gentle updrafts.

              He spoke with a rough, salty tone from beneath a refined looking goatee. ‘Aye, lass, me thinks we be goin’ past them there Isle of Sands to our left. Ye can’t see ‘em in this light, but trust me they’re there alright.’ He adjusted his long brown leather coat and continued to fight against an unseen current.

              ‘Do you think he enjoys this?’ asked Carlo, the youngest of her three companions after herself.

              She eyed the ebony-haired man with a judging look. ‘He seems to love it so far. See the grin on his face?’ She looked up to the captain then back to Carlo. ‘You’re looking a bit green around the gills there, Carlo.’

              He rubbed his tummy and waved his other hand dismissively. ‘None of us were built for sea-faring travels.’ He pointed over to the other two men who were hanging their heads over the side of the ship.