Lacedaemonian
A Plume of Smoke
This is the next part of the first chapter I am writing.... I am maybe 2000-3000 words away from completing this chapter. Of course I will have to go back and do a rewrite, make some of the changes suggested on these boards and add some more colour.
Stone and Duke made their way down the stairs back toward the dining room where they took their meals. Stone had no idea where he was going. He only knew four places in his life. The room where they ate their meals, the cell he shared with Duke, the yard where they spent most of their day and the room where he spent most of his nights. There were visitors here now, he thought. For once in his life the thought of visitors excited him. It was like a dream. Tonight he would be visiting them.
A black cloaked guard was making his way up the stone steps toward them. “What the hells is going on?” He sounded angry. Stone took out the expensive gun and pulled the right trigger like the man named Ballion had taught him. BANG. The guard fell backwards down the stairs. Stone grinned with joy. It worked, the gun worked.
The guard lay groaning and clutching his chest at the bottom of the stone steps. “How many visitors do we have tonight?” Stone asked calmly.
The man groaned and when he spoke it sounded like he had water in his throat. “None in the…the boys wing tonight.”
“How many in the girls wing?” Stone asked.
“Four.” The guard answered blood spraying out from his mouth.
“Thank you.” Stone said smiling. He nodded to Duke and Duke grinning drove his hammer through the guards head. They both stood and looked down at what was left of the guards head. “We should have asked where the girls wing was.” Stone said the smile momentarily leaving his face. “Not to worry Duke, I am sure we will find it. “ Smiling again they made there way through toward their cell.
Two guards rushed out from the corridor that led to their cells. “No.” Stone shouted pointing the gun at them. They dropped their hammers and put their hands in the air. Wow, Stone thought, this expensive gun was special. He did not even have to pull the trigger. Duke paced forward, he looked so different in his new robe. Like a different person. The hammer swung low punching a hole in the centre of the chest of the guard on the right. The flesh split open and bones stuck out like little white bloody fingers. The guard writhed on the floor screaming. Beautiful.
Stone’s eyes were torn from watching the guard dying on the floor to the other guard who was trying to flee. Duke grappled with the much larger man. Stone raised the expensive gun but could not see the guard. Duke was between them. Stone slipped the expensive gun back into his robes and tried to help his friend kill the large guard. Duke took an elbow to his head and fell against the wall and dropped to the floor. Stone slammed his head into the back of the guards head, which made his head feel dizzy. He had to kill the guard, he could not collapse now. He had to protect Duke. The guard swung a huge fist which took Stone full on the chin. His vision span, the lights blurring as his eyes closed. He tried to keep them open, he fought with all the strength he could summon to stay awake. The stone floor met the side of his face…darkness….
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Sal stood watch on the tradesmen gate. Nothing ever happened on his watch. Once a month a farmer from Stoneford would deliver a cart full of vegetables and oats. Sal expected him to arrive tonight, though he was sometimes a day or so late. He liked the farmer with his round smiling face and balding head surrounded by a thinning white hair that made him look older than his years.
“Come and work for me, Sal. I could do with a strong pair of hands at the farm.” Sal could think of nothing better than working out in the fields, it had to be better than standing by a gate, night after night.
“I would love to Ash, but you know how it is. Owe the Duke five more years service and I might be courting soon.”
“You finally asked Gode Meers niece out?” Ash asked with a big warm smile and that eternal twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
“Not yet, Madam Meers has still not granted me the opportunity.”
“Ah lad, the dress maker is a tough woman to keep you hanging like that.”
“She says there are better suitors than me. Called me a ‘poor man’s soldier’.” Sal said trying to mask his upset with a weak smile.
“What does she know of soldiering? If I had a daughter, Sal, I would be over the moon to have you courting her.” He said placing his a shovel sized hand gently on Sal’s shoulder. “She is a woman, they are fickle creature they are. ‘cepting my Dolores of course, who the gods know is always right about every matter she decides to put her mind to.” He winked at Sal and removed his hand from his shoulder. “Only a man truly knows another man’s worth. And I knows you are better than this, young Sal.” Ash said his smile and twinkle momentarily lost as he waved a hand toward the castle grounds.
Sal felt embarrassed, “It puts food on my table and a roof over my head.”
“Aye son, I spoke without thought.”
They had parted on bad terms when last they had met. It left a sour taste in his mouth. Ash was right. At least he hoped that Ash was right. He wanted to be better than this.
Tonight he had heard gun fire and screams coming from the Cellars building but had not investigated. Nor had he reported the noises to his superior officer. He remembered his first day stationed on this gate. He had reported hearing strange screams coming from the Cellars then. His superior officer, a cruel faced man, paid him short shrift and sent him back to the gate.
That was one thing he had learned; the castle guards did not talk about the Cellars.
The ringing of a bell broke his thoughts.
Sal straightened his deep burgundy uniform, holding his spear in his left hand he pulled open the spy grill and called out, “State your name and business with the castle.”
“Tis me, old Ash Hugher. Fetching supplies to the castle.” Answered the old farmer in a mocking but friendly voice.
“Step back beyond the painted line.” Ash bowed and stepped backwards maintaining the bow with a huge grin on his portly face. Sal lifted the latch on the thick wooden gate and pushed it open, whilst still holding his spear. He held the spear in front of him. “Come forward slowly and park your cart by the wooden bench.” The cart lurched forward and Sal pulled the gate closed behind.
Ash sat on the bench whilst Sal made a token search of his cart.
“Everything satisfactory, officer?” Ash asked with a wink. “Did you check behind that sack of spouts?”
Sal pulled the sack of spouts forwards, revealing a large flask. He had fetched him another flask of his malt. “I will have to confiscate this, I am afraid.”
“About what I said when I was last here, Sal….”
“Forget about it, Ash. I know I will.” He said lifting the cask of malt from the cart with a smile. “You were right what you said.”
“Didn’t make it right me saying it though.”
“True enough, but I expect that a friend would always tell the truth no matter how hard.”
“Well said, young Sal. So what has been happening in this beloved place since I was last here?”
Sal paused before speaking. “There were noises again from beyond the tall walls.” Sal looked into the farmers bright blue eyes, conveying unspoken conversation. They did not refer to the building set away from the castle as the Cellars. Sal was forbidden to talk about it. Ever.
“The evil *****…..” The farmer said staring at the walls. Sal followed his eyes to the single tower. Flames and smoke licked out from its roof. “I beg you to come and work for me, Sal. The country life would suit you, I am sure of it.”
Sal was not really listening and just stared up at the plumes of smoke. Something was happening in there tonight. Something different. “I should report that to my senior officer.” He remarked absently. “Ballion’s tower… Madam Meer makes his robes, so I hear.” The roof was a flaming furnace now. “The cobbler… eh Yorath, he says Ballion has been sniffing around Meers niece flashing his coins. They say that Ballion is…”
“He’s an evil ****, Sal, from the whispers I have heard. If they were something more than whispers…” Ash said clenching his fists, his face contorting with a mild rage. “Gods I hope he is in that tower, Sal. Let’s get this cart up to the kitchens, that report can wait. You hear me?”
“I hear you, Ash.”
** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
Stone and Duke made their way down the stairs back toward the dining room where they took their meals. Stone had no idea where he was going. He only knew four places in his life. The room where they ate their meals, the cell he shared with Duke, the yard where they spent most of their day and the room where he spent most of his nights. There were visitors here now, he thought. For once in his life the thought of visitors excited him. It was like a dream. Tonight he would be visiting them.
A black cloaked guard was making his way up the stone steps toward them. “What the hells is going on?” He sounded angry. Stone took out the expensive gun and pulled the right trigger like the man named Ballion had taught him. BANG. The guard fell backwards down the stairs. Stone grinned with joy. It worked, the gun worked.
The guard lay groaning and clutching his chest at the bottom of the stone steps. “How many visitors do we have tonight?” Stone asked calmly.
The man groaned and when he spoke it sounded like he had water in his throat. “None in the…the boys wing tonight.”
“How many in the girls wing?” Stone asked.
“Four.” The guard answered blood spraying out from his mouth.
“Thank you.” Stone said smiling. He nodded to Duke and Duke grinning drove his hammer through the guards head. They both stood and looked down at what was left of the guards head. “We should have asked where the girls wing was.” Stone said the smile momentarily leaving his face. “Not to worry Duke, I am sure we will find it. “ Smiling again they made there way through toward their cell.
Two guards rushed out from the corridor that led to their cells. “No.” Stone shouted pointing the gun at them. They dropped their hammers and put their hands in the air. Wow, Stone thought, this expensive gun was special. He did not even have to pull the trigger. Duke paced forward, he looked so different in his new robe. Like a different person. The hammer swung low punching a hole in the centre of the chest of the guard on the right. The flesh split open and bones stuck out like little white bloody fingers. The guard writhed on the floor screaming. Beautiful.
Stone’s eyes were torn from watching the guard dying on the floor to the other guard who was trying to flee. Duke grappled with the much larger man. Stone raised the expensive gun but could not see the guard. Duke was between them. Stone slipped the expensive gun back into his robes and tried to help his friend kill the large guard. Duke took an elbow to his head and fell against the wall and dropped to the floor. Stone slammed his head into the back of the guards head, which made his head feel dizzy. He had to kill the guard, he could not collapse now. He had to protect Duke. The guard swung a huge fist which took Stone full on the chin. His vision span, the lights blurring as his eyes closed. He tried to keep them open, he fought with all the strength he could summon to stay awake. The stone floor met the side of his face…darkness….
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Sal stood watch on the tradesmen gate. Nothing ever happened on his watch. Once a month a farmer from Stoneford would deliver a cart full of vegetables and oats. Sal expected him to arrive tonight, though he was sometimes a day or so late. He liked the farmer with his round smiling face and balding head surrounded by a thinning white hair that made him look older than his years.
“Come and work for me, Sal. I could do with a strong pair of hands at the farm.” Sal could think of nothing better than working out in the fields, it had to be better than standing by a gate, night after night.
“I would love to Ash, but you know how it is. Owe the Duke five more years service and I might be courting soon.”
“You finally asked Gode Meers niece out?” Ash asked with a big warm smile and that eternal twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
“Not yet, Madam Meers has still not granted me the opportunity.”
“Ah lad, the dress maker is a tough woman to keep you hanging like that.”
“She says there are better suitors than me. Called me a ‘poor man’s soldier’.” Sal said trying to mask his upset with a weak smile.
“What does she know of soldiering? If I had a daughter, Sal, I would be over the moon to have you courting her.” He said placing his a shovel sized hand gently on Sal’s shoulder. “She is a woman, they are fickle creature they are. ‘cepting my Dolores of course, who the gods know is always right about every matter she decides to put her mind to.” He winked at Sal and removed his hand from his shoulder. “Only a man truly knows another man’s worth. And I knows you are better than this, young Sal.” Ash said his smile and twinkle momentarily lost as he waved a hand toward the castle grounds.
Sal felt embarrassed, “It puts food on my table and a roof over my head.”
“Aye son, I spoke without thought.”
They had parted on bad terms when last they had met. It left a sour taste in his mouth. Ash was right. At least he hoped that Ash was right. He wanted to be better than this.
Tonight he had heard gun fire and screams coming from the Cellars building but had not investigated. Nor had he reported the noises to his superior officer. He remembered his first day stationed on this gate. He had reported hearing strange screams coming from the Cellars then. His superior officer, a cruel faced man, paid him short shrift and sent him back to the gate.
That was one thing he had learned; the castle guards did not talk about the Cellars.
The ringing of a bell broke his thoughts.
Sal straightened his deep burgundy uniform, holding his spear in his left hand he pulled open the spy grill and called out, “State your name and business with the castle.”
“Tis me, old Ash Hugher. Fetching supplies to the castle.” Answered the old farmer in a mocking but friendly voice.
“Step back beyond the painted line.” Ash bowed and stepped backwards maintaining the bow with a huge grin on his portly face. Sal lifted the latch on the thick wooden gate and pushed it open, whilst still holding his spear. He held the spear in front of him. “Come forward slowly and park your cart by the wooden bench.” The cart lurched forward and Sal pulled the gate closed behind.
Ash sat on the bench whilst Sal made a token search of his cart.
“Everything satisfactory, officer?” Ash asked with a wink. “Did you check behind that sack of spouts?”
Sal pulled the sack of spouts forwards, revealing a large flask. He had fetched him another flask of his malt. “I will have to confiscate this, I am afraid.”
“About what I said when I was last here, Sal….”
“Forget about it, Ash. I know I will.” He said lifting the cask of malt from the cart with a smile. “You were right what you said.”
“Didn’t make it right me saying it though.”
“True enough, but I expect that a friend would always tell the truth no matter how hard.”
“Well said, young Sal. So what has been happening in this beloved place since I was last here?”
Sal paused before speaking. “There were noises again from beyond the tall walls.” Sal looked into the farmers bright blue eyes, conveying unspoken conversation. They did not refer to the building set away from the castle as the Cellars. Sal was forbidden to talk about it. Ever.
“The evil *****…..” The farmer said staring at the walls. Sal followed his eyes to the single tower. Flames and smoke licked out from its roof. “I beg you to come and work for me, Sal. The country life would suit you, I am sure of it.”
Sal was not really listening and just stared up at the plumes of smoke. Something was happening in there tonight. Something different. “I should report that to my senior officer.” He remarked absently. “Ballion’s tower… Madam Meer makes his robes, so I hear.” The roof was a flaming furnace now. “The cobbler… eh Yorath, he says Ballion has been sniffing around Meers niece flashing his coins. They say that Ballion is…”
“He’s an evil ****, Sal, from the whispers I have heard. If they were something more than whispers…” Ash said clenching his fists, his face contorting with a mild rage. “Gods I hope he is in that tower, Sal. Let’s get this cart up to the kitchens, that report can wait. You hear me?”
“I hear you, Ash.”
** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
