This chapter is not for the squeamish.
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When Jack awoke in the morning his head was pounding.
When Anthony returned to the camp, with the woman slung over his shoulder, he noticed that the guards had tied up the other shadowy men. “Seems you had some company as well,” Anthony joked.
“It was a little difficult since someone wanted us to drink more,” Mark said, shaking his head. “One of us was almost injured.”
Anthony nodded, understanding that the guards weren’t as good as him with a drink or five. His abilities weren’t decreased under the effects of the poison and he could even access other skills when under the influence, though he didn’t need to use them to beat rabble like this. The knight dropped the woman and looked to the shadows which they had caught.
“Have you started their interrogation?” Anthony asked as he glanced back towards the woman who was only one core below him.
“We’ve left that up to you, sir,” Mark replied.
Anthony nodded again and then smiled at the woman, who stared at him with both fury and confusion. Anthony wound up a kick. “This is for pleasure,” he said, kicking her until she struck a tree. “Now it’s time for business.”
“You! How could you? Aren’t you a knight?”
“That’s right,” Anthony said, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine and then drinking the last couple of drops. “I’m a knight.” He pressed his boot against the side of her face. “A knight of Bloodwall.”
The shadows who had been captured watched in shock and terror. They hadn’t ever expected that a knight would ever behave in such a manner.
“I don’t want to torture you, but you dared to kidnap our young sir.” He pressed down on her face into the dirt. “What kind of message would it send if we, those of Bloodwall, don’t make an example of you rats?”
The pain on her face was almost too much to bear, but Anthony lifted his boot up. She panted and her mind raced. She had been captured before and she had always managed to find a way out.
“You’re going to tell me who you work for.” Anthony drew his sword and then placed the tip of it against her knee. “Depending on how truthful I think you’re being, I’ll make your death swift and painless. If I think you’re lying to me or I notice you struggle, then I hope you won’t scream too loud, for our young sir is currently sleeping.” He placed a little pleasure against her knee with his sword. “We wouldn’t want his sleep to be disturbed.”
“Y-you’re crazy.”
Anthony smiled. “No,” he said. “I’m drunk.” He forced his sword through her knee and she screamed, though he muffled her with his boot. “I’m a knight, which means I am a man of my word. We’re going to try this again.” He pulled his sword out and then placed it against her other knee. “Who do you work for?”
“You won’t get anything from me-argh!” She screamed out in pain as Anthony crippled her other leg.
“No, perhaps I won’t.” Anthony grabbed another bottle of wine and cut the cork off with ease. He sipped it and walked around the woman. “For the honour of the Bloodwalls, I have to at least try.”
She stared up at him in horror, and tried to squirm away. The other shadows wondered what they had gotten themselves into. If only they hadn’t been blinded by their greed, they wouldn’t have picked a fight with this psycho.
One of the shadows began to stutter, “w-we work for-“
Mark slapped the shadow. “No one gave you permission to speak.”
The shadow looked up at the guard in shock, the sting on his face making his cheek numb. Hadn’t they wanted information? Why would they stop him?
Anthony continued his interrogation until the ground had turned red. “I can respect your choice to protect your employers, though I’m not sure what your loyalty gets you.” He wiped his sword clean of blood. “I’ll leave the rest of the interrogation to you.” Anthony walked off and assisted the driver in moving the carriage away.
Mark turned to look at the cowering shadows. “Whoever gives us the best information will have a painless death.” He drew his longsword. A wicked shadow fell over the shadows.
Yes, Anthony was a knight. Perhaps torturing a helpless woman was something which some knights would take issue with. However, the woman had tried to kill him and kidnap the young sir who he had sword to protect. Anthony grew up with the constant fear of death. The beast hordes had hardened him, as did they harden all the warriors of Bloodwall.
When Jack awoke in the morning his head was pounding. He hadn’t noticed they were at a different spot until halfway through breakfast. “Where are we?”
“We just moved the carriage so you could sleep better. There were some wild animals wailing last night.” Anthony was halfway through the bottle by the time they had even taken the first bite.
“Wailing animals? I don’t really remember anything from last night.” Jack rubbed his head. “The camping was very fun, though.”
“It was wonderful to drink with you. Let’s drink again later tonight.”
Jack smiled awkwardly, but his head pounded. Anthony had made his head hurt, but Jack wasn’t the only person that Anthony hurt that night. Still, Anthony was his father’s trusted knight, and Jack didn’t believe that the knight would ever put him in danger.
The rest of the travels continued until they had finally arrived at Riverhill. Riverhill was like its namesake, a city that had been built atop a hill, with a river flowing through it. It was a fairly defensible city, and it had never fallen during the past wars.
There were three walls, each sectioning off the various districts from one another. The third walls were where most of the peasants lived and was also the largest district. The middle district was for skilled workers, merchants, and minor nobles. The inner layer was where the baron and other major noble families lived.
As the carriage approached the city, a guard rode out to meet them. Mark dealt with the guard, revealing their sigil as well as a writ given to them by Chief Bloodwall. The carriage continued as Mark dealt with it, and then once the city guard was pleased, he bowed his head and returned to his post. The carriage didn’t slow down, nor did it stop as it drove through the city.
The moment it passed the gate Jake sighed sadly. Now he was Jake, no longer a Bloodwall. Sir Anthony placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No matter what anyone says, you are still our little Jack.”
They drove to an inn in the middle layer, where Anthony assisted Jack out of the carriage. “I will deal with the inn room. You should take the letter and head to the centre district and speak with Smith Carlson. If you can apprentice under him, you will certainly become a great smith.”
Jack looked up at Anthony. His throat closed and he fought back his tears. His lips trembled but he nodded and marched stiffly towards the guards stationed at the gatehouse some ways away.
Anthony turned back to Mark, who caught the knight’s look. Anthony pulled up his cloak and followed after Jack far behind. He didn’t trust this city. He had heard the way big cities were, and he wasn’t going to subject the young sir, little Jack, to such things. He would keep an eye out on the boy for now.
Jack marched up the city gate when the guards quickly crossed their spears. “Halt!” Jack stopped in his tracks. “State your business.”
“I’ve come to apprentice under Smith Carlson,” Jack said, trying not to stutter.
One of the guards glared down the boy and almost snapped at him when the other pressed the spears together a little difficult. The guard shook his head and then looked down to Jack. “Do you have a writ of any sort?”
“I have a letter addressed to Smith Carlson from my fa…” Jack paused. “Chief Bloodwall.”
The guards noticed the seal on the letter and then uncrossed their spears. “Entry granted. Walk straight until the third road and then take a left.”
“Thank you kindly, sirs,” Jack said as he walked in.
“Thanks for that,” the guard who had almost snapped at Jack said.
“You have to be careful. If we offend Chief Bloodwall, I’m not sure even the Baron would do anything to protect us.” He sighed. He noticed a figure approaching and then crossed spears once again. “Halt! State your business.”
Anthony smiled as he undid his cloak slightly to reveal the shield made of bricks on his breastplate. He stared deep into the guard’s eyes before they finally relented and bowed their heads.
He walked past the guards, flashing a charming, but tipsy, smile. As he half stumbled forward, the guards looked between one another again.
“Chief Bloodwall sure knows how to pick them.”
“You smelt it too, right?”
“Don’t even mention it. We don’t want to get into any trouble.”
“Let’s hope it wasn’t an inhabitant of Riverhill.”
“Should we tell the captain?”
“…”
“…”
“I don’t want to get involved.”
The other guard nodded.
Nothing like a little torture to flesh out a character.
We must protecc little Jack.
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