Delve

Chapter 218: Infiltration

chapter 218: infiltration

two days later, it was still raining. the storm persisted as an eternal drizzle, with occasional gusts of wind and crashes of thunder in the distance. ameliah was beginning to suspect that the weather wasn’t entirely natural, the sheer intensity and longevity of the storm more in line with what happened when a leviathan wandered too close to shore. she was trying not to think about what it meant for something like that to happen inland, as she had other concerns at the moment. she was being watched.

carefully not looking to either side, ameliah continued her bedraggled trudge through the muck, the tattered and shortened cloak rush lent her hanging like a sodden blanket over her likewise borrowed clothing. her armor was safely stored in whatever non-space it went to when dismissed, as was her bow, though she held rush’s instead. its snapped string dangled uselessly, but that hardly stopped it from functioning as the crutch she was using it for. her other hand was bound to her chest by a makeshift sling, her arm tied to a splint with bandages made from the missing half of her cloak. the cloth was stained red with a great deal of blood.

not hers, naturally. she’d gone to a lot of trouble to look this bad.

the trail hadn’t been hard to follow, but camp asshole was situated on the crown of a broad hill, making it impossible to get a look inside without climbing above the canopy and thus revealing herself. scrying pool would have solved that issue neatly, but she had neither the time nor the patience to unlock it. a direct assault, on the other hand, risked disaster should the hostages be used against her. that left infiltration.

“ho, there!”

“ah!” ameliah shrieked, fake surprise turning to equally fake pain as she spun, tripped over her own feet, then landed with a splat.

“that’s what you get for not watching your surroundings,” the voice said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“who—” ameliah began, then gasped, hissing through her teeth as she aborted her attempt to push herself up.

“that’s what i want to know,” the voice said, a pair of heavy black boots coming to a stop in front of her.

ameliah rolled herself over onto her back, making sure to hug her ‘injured’ limb as she took in a man wearing a thick hide jacket beneath his hooded cloak. while he was almost as drenched as she was, his clothing was much finer, making him either a guilder or a well-to-do mercenary, not an adamant.

mark

openly inspecting her right back, the man’s lips quirked up into a wry smile. “what’s a fancy girl like you doing in a place like this?”

ameliah let herself go limp. “dystees, i’m saved.” what about me is fancy right now, exactly? she took a shuddering breath. “please, my arm is broken. i need hel—”

“answer the question,” the man said, resting his offhand on the pommel of his sword.

“i’m just— ameliah, is my name.” ameliah made a show of only now noticing the weapon. “my brother and i were chasing a boar, and we got separated three...no...four days ago. and then there was the storm, and... please...”

the man remained silent for a long moment, then clicked his tongue.

ameliah kept her eyes latched to the sword. “did...did my brother, uh... did he send you to find me? are you a guilder? why else would anyone be—”

“quiet,” the man said, fishing in a pocket, then withdrawing a speaking stone. “nicho, this is mett. i found the skulker, so you can tell innar to stop having a fit. it’s just a drowned rat of a girl, well, make that a drowned badger. i’d say she’s big enough to be part deer if i didn’t know better. claims to have been out hunting with her brother and got separated in the storm.”

“no, before the storm, i—” ameliah tried to interject. they knew i was coming?

“hush!” mett shouted, glaring at her, slapping the stone against his palm before holding it up to his ear. “cracked piece of shit,” he muttered, waiting as he listened to whatever return message he was receiving. finally, he tucked the stone away with a tired sigh, leaving only the sound of the drizzle and the steady drip of larger droplets falling from the leaves.

“please, don’t hurt me,” ameliah said, cradling her bound arm. “whoever you are, i can pay you if you help me get back to my camp. i don’t have any coins on me, but—”

“get up.” mett interrupted. “someone wants to talk to you. after that, i get to go look for your brother. joy.”

“thank you, i—”

“move!”

happy enough with this state of affairs, though she’d have been happier still to simply be welcomed in, ameliah struggled to her feet, making it as much of a process as possible. the man didn’t so much as offer to help, watching her with a suspicious expression. once she was up and leaning on her bow again for support, she decided to try again. “do you know if—”

mett raised his hand sharply, as if he was about to smack her. she yelped in response, closing her eyes and flinching away.

at least i won’t have to feel bad about killing him later.

the blow, however, did not fall, and slowly, ameliah opened first one eye, then the other.

mett snorted, lowering his hand. “your arm’s broken, not your legs. bury me in the depths if i’m carrying you, watchtower.” he tilted his head, then stepped aside. “that way.”

watchtower? ameliah began hobbling in the indicated direction. come on. i’m not that tall.

after about ten minutes of slow progress, the compound came into view, as she’d known it would. the trees atop the hill had been cleared for quite some distance beyond the wooden palisade. whoever these people were, they were only hiding in that they’d set themselves up in the complete middle of nowhere.

“halt!” called one of the gate guards as ameliah reached the edge of the trees, and she did, only for mett to shove her roughly out into the open.

“it’s me!” mett called, stepping past her as ameliah focused on the new guards.

mark

mark

both were men, armed and outfitted almost identically to the one escorting her, right down to the rust-brown color of their cloaks and the longswords on their hips. as she reached them and slowed to a hesitant stop, one of the men whistled.

“you weren’t kidding, mett,” he said, walking forward and grinning through his bushy mustache. he planted his hands on his hips, addressing her. “right then, beautiful, stand still and drop the stick. gotta check you for weapons.”

“who are you people?” ameliah asked, taking a step back and trying to look as if she was on the edge of panic. “there aren’t any towns out here. what kind of camp is—”

“calm down,” the third man said, the one who hadn’t spoken yet. “this is just a hunting camp.”

“do not,” the male noble countermanded. “dulls tend to break when you do that. you can talk to her when she recovers, supposing she ever does. you, pon, right? what did you do to her?”

“not me, lord tenelin,” man three said, clearly the target of the question. “her arm was like that when mett found her, and nicho—”

“spare him the details,” lady innar snapped. “we don’t need to go through it all again. please, just let me handle this, brother.”

“no, sister,” the lord replied, the stress on the final word indicating that this wasn’t even remotely their first disagreement of the day. “just throw her in a cell,” he commanded. “when our grandfather wakes, he’ll decide what to do with her. please inform us if you find the other hunter. now, sister, i need to talk to you about how we plan on feeding the deer. our supplies aren’t going to...”

ameliah continued listening to the bickering between the noble siblings as she was picked up, then carried away, cradled in the guard’s arms. she didn’t manage to glean any more important details before she passed out of the foyer and into a long hallway, keeping one eye barely open as her head dangled. eventually, she caught a glimpse of another guard standing beside a banded metal door, again with a sword.

mark

what is it with these people and swords? other weapons exist!

“that woman is a trial,” the newest guard said.

“heard all that, did you?”

“how could i not? get her down there, then go get nicho that damn potion. he was injured in the line of duty, and our contract is clear on what we’re owed. if lady innar gives you any more trouble about it, she can take it up with me.”

“oh, she’ll love that. you two get on great.”

the only response was a grunt, then the rattle of a key in a lock. “if you ask me, i think it’s time to renegotiate our contract. i didn’t give up my plate to stand beside a door for twelve hours a day.”

“i hear you,” man three said. “what are we going to do, though? kill them?”

“no, and keep your fucking voice down. north harbor’s a smoking ruin, yes, but the twins got out, so more may be coming. even if we could take them and the old man, and that’s a big if, we’d be in a real spot if the rest showed up and found out we offed their relatives. when i say renegotiate, i mean exactly that. i mean getting them to treat us with some deeping respect. they need us to watch the deer, and they know it.”

“right.”

there was a sigh. “don’t get me wrong, it’s damn lucky they found them on their way in, but their fortune’s been a gigantic pain in my ass. if it were up to me, we’d just slaughter the lot and be done, but no, nobles gotta be nobles. always looking for more.”

“you should try working for the bank. can’t say i miss that.”

the other man grunted. “we’ll talk tonight. just get her down there for now. and don’t put her in with the deer, or they’ll kill her.”

“duh,” man three said, hiking ameliah up in his arms and guiding her head through the doorway.

as ameliah passed the inward-opening door, she risked opening her eyes slightly wider to get a look at it, but didn’t see any obvious runes or signs of enchantment. the same went for the wooden stairway as they descended into darkness. there was a heavy thud, then a click as the door was closed and locked behind her.

“should have grabbed a damn candle,” her bearer muttered in the darkness. eventually, as the stairwell continued far longer than she’d expected, she became aware of a greenish hue coming from below. as she reached the bottom and was carried out into the cellar, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

ah.

the room was enormous, the need for the high ceiling easily explained by the shimmering green bubble that dominated the space. a metal cage had been constructed around the lair, the bars of dark metal serving double duty and holding up the structure above. runes had been etched into the metal, adding their own bluish glow to the magical ambiance, though the cellar couldn’t even remotely be described as bright. the rest of the space she could see was also dominated by ironwork, split up into cubic cells by the metal bars, though unenchanted. most of the cells didn’t even have doors, filled with the random junk one might expect to find in a cellar. some, though, held people.

“who is it!?” a cervidian woman demanded, rattling the bars of her cage before stopping suddenly. “are they alive? did you—? oh.” there was a long pause, then a scoff. “it’s just a human. imprisoning your own kind too, now?”

“animals don’t talk,” the man holding ameliah said. she’d already forgotten his name. he laid her on the ground in one of the cells with more care than she’d expected, though it would not save him. he then knelt beside her, straightening out her legs and shifting her bound arm to lie more comfortably on her stomach.

“there,” the man said, getting back to his feet. “if you can hear me, i’m sorry for nicho, and stay away from the bars. the deer are not your friends.” there was a squeak of unoiled hinges, then a clang as the door slammed closed.

“we need water, human,” the same female voice said bitterly, as if the words were being dragged out of her.

apparently, this didn’t even rate a response. all ameliah heard was the rattle of a key, then a click as she was locked inside.

“if you want us to die, there are faster ways we would prefer.”

again, this went ignored. ameliah listened to the guard’s footsteps as they retreated across the dusty planks that made the floor, soon fading as he climbed the stairs. her awareness of his direction, though, didn’t fade, nor did her awareness of the others she’d marked.

“asshole,” the woman spat.

“mommy?” a little boy’s voice asked from another cell. “is the lady alright?”

“who cares?” a male voice responded from further down the line.

ameliah waited, listening over the angry muttering of the cervidians. finally, she heard the distant thud of the door at the top of the stairs.

she sat up, generating several sharp intakes of breath, and she turned to see five pairs of eyes staring at her. it was hard to make out details in the gloom, but she could see well enough to know that none of them belonged to proudrock. perhaps some of their antlers were slightly larger than nubs, but she couldn’t say for sure yet whether that was just her imagination. in her heart, though, she knew her suspicion was correct. she knew what the assholes had done. what they’d planned to do.

“mommy?” the little boy asked again uncertainly as ameliah got to her feet, rage and anticipation of vengeance distorting her features.

a child. why would they choose a child? and where is proudrock?

“who are you?” one of the men demanded.

“please keep your voices down,” ameliah replied, managing to regain control as she turned to face her fellow prisoners. she bowed low, bending only at the waist. “i am ameliah, friend of tallheart, and i’m here to rescue you.”