Kadmus. I can just hope. I won’t let myself die. I’ve got the rest of my life ahead of me, and so do you. But I have a feeling that if we survive this war, we’ll get to see much more than merely beyond the mountains.”
The night is rough.
Guards wake us early. We are rationed breakfast and then given the freedom to do what we will, given that we stay within the Keep. The Jarl wants to keep us on task with the war on mind, instead of meeting some pretty girl in the city. We can’t afford the distraction.
Nathaniel goes to the archery range. My father, as well as James, Jericho, and their fathers, practice combat in the training grounds, which sit on the flat roof of the Keep. Percival and I join them for the morning. Percival proves himself with a sword and shield. James, having decided that he feels well enough, has done well with his weapon of choice. Jericho at least proves capable. I, however, have a difficult time with the concept of battle.
Something about the footwork, swinging, and crushing doesn’t quite come together in my head. By lunchtime, I get frustrated and leave the grounds. Percival follows.
We eat lunch almost silently. Percival doesn’t speak until afterwards, when he asks, “Would you like to go back and try again?”
“No,” I say. “I need to go for a walk.”
“We have to stay in the Keep.”
“The Keep is plenty big.”
Percival accompanies me. I don’t object; he is my best friend. We wander aimlessly around the Keep, wearing our armor. Guards don’t question our presence anywhere.
From the main hall, we go straight into the center of the Keep. We find all kinds of different rooms for various purposes, but most of them for food storage or sleeping. Down two flights of stairs, we find a dead end with a locked door. For a few moments we wonder where it could possibly lead. Then we turn back.
Instead of going back up the stairs, we continue down the hallway in the opposite direction. There are no guards down here. Gradually a sound begins to enter my ears: running water. It’s only a slight trickle, but it’s definitely there.
At the end of the hall, we find a metal grate. The bars are similar to the ones we found in the dungeons earlier. A door made completely of the same bars sits in the middle, with a large rusting padlock sealing it tight. Within, the ground inclines downward. Water trickles from pipes protruding slightly from the walls, running down the shallow incline and through a replica of the iron grate and door. The second door is also padlocked. It is difficult to see beyond, but I can make out a passage. An unpleasant stench reeks out of it.
“Where’s that go I wonder?” says Percival. His voice echoes downward into the passage eerily.
“Probably waste passages,” I say quietly. “Like a sewer. The kitchens and bathrooms have waste pipes in them; it would make sense for them to come out here.”
“No wonder it stinks,” he whispers.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” I say. “They must have redirected an irrigation canal through it to wash it out. Keep the smell down and keep everything from piling up too much.”
“Genius,” he says.
“It must come out somewhere,” I continue. “But not in the city. We’re down too low. Water just flows down, so it must come out…”
“Not back to the river,” Percival concludes. “Wouldn’t want to contaminate it.”
“So it must come out behind the mountain,” I finish. “It lets out somewhere in the Wolfpack Mountains.”
A voice behind us startles us. “Oi! What are you doing?” It’s a guard, staring at us suspiciously.
“Exploring,” I respond matter-of-factly.
“This place is off-limits,” he says. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Within the hour, both I and Percival have forgotten the whole ordeal. I do, however, agree to go back up to the training
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