Caracara's Hunt 67 Empty Safehouse
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To the side, Val tried to sleep, but he wasn't having any luck with it. Drops of ice cold water fell on his face, chasing all sleepiness away.
"How long is it going to continue?" Arawn asked.
Now that he thought about it, the weather had been very gentle with him during the travels. Although a few rains had caught up to them, they were nothing more than light drizzles. Not once had he suffered something as miserable as the current storm.
"Ten more minutes, or another day," Val said while pus.h.i.+ng himself up into a sitting position.
Arawn watched his awkward struggle, barely holding back his urge to help. It would annoy Val, however. They were supposed to give him s.p.a.ce, or so Rain had said. The man needed to accept what had happened to him before he could accept others' help in regards to it.
"I'm sorry," Arawn whispered in a voice no louder than a mouse's squeak. It was almost lost in the backdrop of the storm outside.
Yet Val seemed to have heard it. He turned in the direction of his voice and stared at him for a while. "It's your companion who did this to me. Don't think about it too much."
"Maybe," Arawn agreed. "But he did it for me, or because of me. Directly or not, I caused it. And for that, I'm sorry."
Every time he looked at Val, it was all he could see. The stump was an unwelcome reminder of his betrayed trust. It would have been fine had Corwal left at that time, but he didn't… He came after them and showed up once all work was done as if mocking their incompetence.
"I accept your apology, so leave it be now," Val said in a strained voice and leaned back against his saddlebags on the side of the tent. He closed his eyes, resting, but the constant dripping, on his legs this time, did not give him peace.
Moments later, he looked around the dark and returned his gaze on Arawn. "What do you think he's doing now?"
"Probably already talking to the princess, if she was hidden somewhere in the capital. Unlike us, he would have no trouble entering through the gates that are closed for everyone," Arawn answered with some resentment. Everything had been so easy when traveling with him.
"You sure of that?"
Arawn shook his head while pulling his legs close to himself. Another place in the roof began dripping, making it almost impossible to dodge more than a few streams. A couple minutes more, and the whole roof would become one huge leaking hole.
With a sigh, Arawn pushed his wet hair behind his ears to get it out of his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything. I thought I knew him, but I'm starting to feel like all of it was a lie. You know, soon after I joined him, he got injured saving my life. The blade had been rusted or it was the damp of the dungeon, but his wound began to rot and he caught a bad fever. Soon, it was bad enough he started losing consciousness.
"At that time, I and Eliot risked ourselves to save him, but he must have had that talisman all the while. If he was really about to die, wouldn't he have used it? So could it have been just a test? Was it possible he lied to me from the very beginning?"
"Don't look at me," Val said with a grimace. "I don't know him at all, but it does seem like something he'd be capable of. How did you two meet?"
The memory sprung to Arawn's mind unbeckoned, and for the first time, he examined it for what it really was—a play at his emotions. He was weary of other prisoners, but Corwal came from the outside and was around his age, if a few years older. This instantly made him different.
He also seemed out of place and weaker, making it tempting for Arawn to protect him. After a decade of loneliness, who wouldn't want a friend? Then, as if on order, the food stopped coming so they had to escape. Corwal had repeated more than a couple times that Arawn had saved him in the Gutter, but was that really the truth? Had he ever even been in any danger?
"I protected him, for which he felt thankful and promised me to teach me all about the ether and the world," he said. The whole story was too painful to voice.
He had prided himself in being used to scheming in the Gutter, but he was actually as naive as a newborn calf. Not for a moment had he doubted Corwal's story until it was too late. And now he would have to live the rest of his life with the knowledge that he had cost a man his arm.
"Are you that important?" Val suddenly asked, attracting Arawn's attention. The man's expression grew serious. "Who are you exactly that he would go so far for you?"
"A monster, an abomination," Arawn answered with a twist of his lips.
"You Bretians," Val cursed, closing his eyes once again. "What happened to you all that your wardens are crueler than your prisoners?"
His words were followed by a crackle of thunder. It cut the conversation, and Arawn fell back into his own thoughts. Val's words were too disturbing. They hit the mark closer than they should have. In Ayersbert, it wasn't always better to meet those on the side of the law than those outside it.
Once morning came, the rain finally subsided. Everyone left their tents and stood in the faint glow of the early sun, watching the wet world around them. The land was full of puddles, and those who had stayed in tents looked like they had just jumped fully-clothed into a lake. They s.h.i.+vered from a light breeze, but didn't duck back into their drenched tents.
Arawn pulled apart their tent and hung it to dry on the side of the cart. Those who had fire mages dried themselves, but the rest had to suffer the normal way. They stood in the sun, pretending they were thinking deeply about something while in reality just enjoying the warmth of its rays.
Rain and Betty looked no better than Arawn. Exhaustion and worry were on their faces when they looked at Val. "Are we really doing it?" Rain asked while putting away her tent as well.
"We are," Val said with confidence.
They ate quietly, then went to brush their horses. The animals were soaked, but didn't seem worse for the wear. They allowed their coats to be cleaned, and the group slowly moved toward the gate.
A squadron of guards stood by it. Half of them were dressed in leather armor while the other half in plate armor encrusted with onyxes. It was clear that the king didn't take the guarding of his gates lightly.
When Val rode close, one of the men stepped forward. "Please fall back, sir. At the moment, no one is allowed to enter," he said in a non-threatening manner, but ether was already surrounding his hands.
Without saying anything, Val opened a compartment in his saddlebags and pulled out a piece of parchment. The guard read it a couple times before hurrying through the small door in the gate.
Some ten minutes later, a bearded middle-aged man walked out followed by the previous guard. Neither of them was holding onto ether.
"Are you Lord Val Katalan?" the bearded man asked.
Val nodded, sitting straight as a rod and looking down at the man with a questioning gaze. For the first time, he reminded Arawn of a n.o.bleborn who expected everyone to fall down before them in wors.h.i.+p.
"I wasn't told you were missing an arm," the bearded man said with a frown. He pursed his lips as he examined Val once more.
"It's none of your concern now, is it?" Val threw with uncharacteristic viciousness. "Open the d.a.m.n gates."
The bearded man grinned and motioned for the guards to open the larger gate so horse's could pa.s.s through. "We were expecting you a month ago. What took you so long?"
Val's expression twitched, but he controlled it and pointedly looked away. It was beneath a lord to chat with random soldiers.
The words had unnerved him, however. They had known they might be walking into a trap, but now they were certain of it. Back when Arawn had met the Katalans for the first time, Corwal had said something along the lines that the king had been withholding the news of what was happening in the capital for a reason. He wanted to ensnare the Katalans so they didn't have time to react before being demolished.
"They're your servants?" the guard asked when Rain and Betty moved to follow after Val.
"Bodyguards," he said, sneering. "Does it look like I can protect myself?" He raised his stump for emphasis.
Mockery arose in the guard's eyes, but he didn't say anything more and let them pa.s.s. While going through the gates, Arawn noticed a tail end of a runner disappearing into a street ahead. Someone was soon going to know that Val was in the city.
The houses before the wall were simple earthen buildings with nothing to differentiate them from all the houses outside the capital. A few kids were running on the street with a leather ball. They raised their heads at the pa.s.sersby, but soon returned to their game.
Arawn looked around with a strange emotion. He was sure that he should feel something, but there was simply nothing in his heart. The buildings were nothing special, and he could not recall the street they were traveling since he'd only went through it once—when he was sent out of the capital.
The people around were no more familiar than the ones he saw in Ashta or the villages near the border. Everyone was dressed in brown woolen tunics and pants that differed in only the amount of ornaments based on cla.s.s. The people's faces didn't bring back any memories either.
After a while, Val stopped before a large mansion. When he dismounted and knocked on the door, there was no answer. They waited and waited, but no one came to take the call. Val tried to open the door, and it did.
With a frown, he entered and loudly called out. His voice bounced off the walls, returning back at him. There was not a live soul in the house.
Arawn jumped off the cart and followed him inside. They checked a couple rooms and saw that the place was abandoned. It couldn't have been long ago since nothing was yet broken or stolen, but dust covered the floor and furniture. Mouse tracks could be seen scurrying over one of the rooms.
"This is my father's safehouse," Val said while leaning against a doorframe leading to another empty room. "He had settled a family we could trust here. They got to live in luxury in exchange for serving as our eyes in the capital."
"Could they have run away?" Arawn asked while looking around.
All the silver was in its place, although covered in dust. The paintings hung on the walls, and the expensive furniture was present as well. Nothing seemed to have been taken since the people who lived there disappeared.
"Not without my father's order. We had saved that family from impoverishment, so they were extremely loyal. I used to play with their sons when I visited father." Val took in a deep breath and pushed himself off the wall. "I'm afraid they didn't have a good ending. We need to leave this place."
"You don't want to take a more thorough look? Maybe we missed something."
Val shook his head. "Not in broad daylight. I don't want anyone to know that I'm aware of all that's happened to my father."
Caracara's Hunt 67 Empty Safehouse
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Caracara's Hunt 67 Empty Safehouse summary
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