Maria sprinted along the packed lanes, trying to dodge who she could. Her eyes full with tears, her heart pounding. In her hands she held the notice which cause this reaction, on it read: LIVE EXECUTION TODAY! She ran and ran; people crowded the lanes as she did. Turning onto the familiar main road of the slum she continued. People shouted as she banged into them almost knocking them over, she tripped over a stall knocking children’s toys to the street around. The stall owner tried to grab her in anger, but she evaded his grasp. Legs tiring, breath uncontrollable she reached the Elderon Soup house, immediately bursting into the eating area. She than ran to the doors leading to the kitchen. Inside she encountered three men fighting and her husband who stood pressed against the wall shock on his eyes.
‘Commodus! COMMODUS!’
She fell to the floor in anguish, still grasping the advert which she peeled from a post. She showed the paper to Commodus who read. Covering his mouth in shock, he turned to the trio in his kitchen.
Lorgan stood on one side with a large knife in his hand, Flogger on the over holding up a large pan. Hoyt bleeding from his mouth stood behind Lorgan nursing his thigh.
‘Commodus! Please can I have a loan?!’ he said. ‘If we pay this brute he’ll leave!’
Commodus ignored him completely holding up the thing that causes his wife Maria so much anguish. A familiar face was sketched onto the screwed up paper.
‘Lorgan. Bryant is to be executed!’
All anger left Bryant, Hoyt and Flogger as they stared stunned at Commodus.
‘What do you mean old man?’ Flogger said dropping the pan to the ground. He forgot about the pair who had scammed him walking forward to grab the paper from Commodus looking at it carefully. Lorgan and Hoyt walked over leaning over the brutes shoulder to read the advert.
‘I can’t read well, read it to me please’. The harshness had left the large man’s voice, and was replaced by compassion. An emotion Lorgan was surprised to detect by his would be murderer.
Hoyt began to read:
‘LIVE EXECUTION TODAY! This evening at dusk, the liar and traitor Captain Bryant from the slum will face the arrow. Come to the ‘Main Square’ to witness this glorious punishment of death. Long live Premier Machiavel, the saviour of Acrusia, and son of the mountain father.’
The trio looked to one another shocked.
‘Bryant! A traitor!? No way, he’s the biggest swat I had ever met in these slums’ Flogger declared.
Lorgan looked at Flogger surprised ‘You know Bryant?’ Flogger continued to look at the portrait of the captain ‘Of course I do! We went to the guard academy together. Only he graduated, and I…well I’m here now beating up you two felchers’
Maria continued to sob, being comforted by Commodus ‘My only son’ she said through tears.
‘I don’t understand’ Commodus said, distress in his voice. ‘What could he possibly have done?’
Lorgan pondered this for a second. This was all wrong, and he knew that Machiavel meant trouble, but he never imagined anything like this. The coincidence was too staggering. Lorgan had witnessed the murder in the cells, and now Bryant whose parent’s home he rented from was to be executed. And to top it off Flogger knew Bryant. He couldn’t connect the dots in his mind, but something told him there was meaning behind it all. ‘This is all wrong’ was all he could muster.
‘All wrong?’ Flogger shouted. ‘He thinks he can come into this neighbourhood executing an old friend of mine’ He slammed his fist on the table shaking more vegetables onto the ground ‘He can think again! I will speak to the smugglers guild immediately. Lorgan, Hoyt – come with me. We still have time’
Liberty finished cleaning the last of the cutlery in the basin. After wiping her hands dry she went outside into the garden to hang the pile of clothes cleaned in the bath. It was cold as was usual for the time of year, and tonight clouds hung over the city threatening rain. She hoped not for the clothes sake. She liked Bryant’s house, it was modern, clean and spacious and most importantly for her it had a garden. At the end a small stable stood where Bryant’s horse noisily chomped on some hay occasionally coming out to walk circles around the lush green garden. She said hello to it, but it just snorted in response. Bryant had not returned since this morning, probably doing some important ‘soldiering’ somewhere she imagined. She wandered what was to happen to her also; she assumed she couldn’t stay here for ever. She let the thoughts slip, for now her only concern was the vision, it plagued her mind more so than the thought of her brother. Somehow she knew that the significance of it was massive, but Liberty didn’t know why. The reflection of it made her recall that terrible pain. She knew at that instant last night that the fate of Atriop was occurring elsewhere, and to wake up to find out it was true was terrible. Those poor people in Ibilis. She felt like she experienced all of their lives extinguished, she felt their suffering. It was no meaningless dream, and she hoped with all her heart she wouldn’t experience that again. But since the vision things had changed within her, she felt as if her awareness expanded beyond her body. All day she tried to focus on what it meant, but it was impossible. Also she had an uneasy feeling about Bryant, but she couldn’t decipher it. Perhaps it was nothing, perhaps it was something.
Lorgan, Hoyt and Flogger strolled quickly along the main road of the slum. It was still busy, but some stalls were beginning to close. Lorgan surveyed the sky; it would be a couple of hours before dusk. He wandered what they could possibly do; Bryant would surely be accompanied by Imperial soldiers. He wandered if the premier himself would come to the slum and watch – likely.
‘Where are we going Flogger?’
Flogger suddenly turned off the main road onto a smaller lane of houses that stood on either side.
‘You’ll see Elderon boy’ they walked down the lanes more, and suddenly Flogger turned again onto a small alley between two houses. It was a tight squeeze, and bins of rubbish littered their path. The smell was horrendous and flies buzzed everywhere as they passed. Lorgan covered his nose; his muffled voice could be heard. A rat ran across in front of them, squeaking as it saw the humans on its territory.
‘Flogger where in Acrusia are you taking us, this is awful’
Flogger ignored him, continuing along apparently unaffected by the smells. Either side of them the two buildings barely allowed them to continue, they were pressed so tightly. Than Flogger stopped. He crouched down and to his left in the wall a small wooden door that sat behind a metallic bin was visible. Lorgan looked to Hoyt, eyes questioning. Hoyt shrugged in response. Lorgan was still wary of the tall man, and bringing the pair down a dank alley away from everyone didn’t bode well for him.
‘We’re here’. Flogger declared. He knocked on the door, three taps, a pause, than two taps. No reply. He tried again, three taps, a pause and than two taps. The three waited in anticipation, again no reply. The large man huffed and simply kicked the wooden door hard.
‘Its Flogger, open this damn door’
From inside movement could be heard, a high pitch voice came from within.
‘What’s the password?’
Flogger huffed again, ‘Just open the door, it’s me you imbecile’
A latch was heard and the door swung inwards exposing a small bricked room. The three of them entered. The room was damp, and flame torches hung from the walls illuminating the way. On the walls, fabric was hung, and in the centre of the ground a large rug that had the pattern of the Smugglers guild lay. The image showed the outline of a hooded man, carrying a barrel over his shoulder. Simple, but got to the point Lorgan thought. At one side some benches sat, and the man who let them in offered them to sit. They sat looking around them bemused by it all.
‘What is this place?’ Hoyt questioned.
‘You two stay here; I will be back in a moment. Jod, get these men some tea NOW’ Flogger departed down a corridor leading away from the room followed by a terrified Jod.
‘This must be the Smugglers Guild secret hideaway I guess, not very…..extravagant’
Hoyt chuckled in response.
‘Agreed’
A desk sat opposite them that appeared to be where Jod sat.
‘It doesn’t seem very secure, no guards or anything. ‘Jod’ doesn’t seem the defensive type’
Lorgan nodded in agreement, but changed the subject. ‘What do you think can be done about Bryant?’ Hoyt held his hands up.
‘I don’t know. We have got a few hours to think up something, I cant possible see what we can do. We don’t know where he is, how they plan to bring him here. Nothing’
Lorgan stood from the bench to pace around the room.
‘This is crazy. There’s no way in Acrusia that a child of Commodus and Maria is a traitor. Never, Never. I have met the man many times when he visits the kitchen, full of wisdom.’ He sat again. ‘I don’t know what’s going on here, but Machiavel is up to something. And this has something to do with Atriop and Ibilis’ he said with frustration. Jod returned with the teas and the pair drank slowly still thinking about the last few days events. Jod sat at the desk silently writing on some papers. After some time, Flogger returned beckoning them to follow.
They walked along a dark passage away from the room; either side stood closed wooden doors. They turned the corridor continuing, descending below the slums. Occasionally they passed a well armoured man who walked casually along, nodding to Flogger as they passed. Damp bricks lay on either side of the trio, and dripping could be heard from above. Flame torches hung to the walls at intervals along the way, but darkness still reigned here. They passed by an open door, quickly getting a glimpse of what was inside. A room full of barrels stacked high to the ceiling was visible; two men were inside cataloguing. They turned another corner, and than another. It was an underground labyrinth that caused Lorgan and Hoyt to lose any sense of direction. Flogger appeared unaffected. Finally they reached a door at the end a long corridor. Two large well armoured men stood either side of it, nodding to Flogger. The metallic door opened inwards exposing a large room containing a long table surrounded by men and women, around 15 in all. Some wore clothing of the slum, some of the upper houses. On the table all manors of fruit lay in golden bowls, some Lorgan recognise some he didn’t. Looking around the room he noticed this was more luxuriously decorated. The bricks were covered in expensive fabrics, and many flame torches sat around the room illuminating it all. At the back wall, the large Insignia of the smugglers guild was etched into the concrete. Just below a woman sat at the end chair. She eyed them with curiosity. In the corners of the room, more heavily armoured men stood armed with an array of weaponry. Flogger left the pair and sat at one of the empty seats around the table and at that moment they realised Flogger was a high ranking member of the Smugglers guild.
