Read Online In Service Of The King (Book 2) by Steven Styles - Free Book Online
Authors: Steven Styles
Ads: Link
space, playing cards. Weapons and implements of torture hung on the walls the way a rich man would display paintings.
“Where is the exit passage?” Joseph asked.
The two men looked up from their game at the door.
“The main entrance and the second shaft... Hey! You’re not allowed in here!” The larger guard stood up as he spoke, sending his chair over backwards. The other threw down his cards and reached for his sword. Joseph turned and fled back down the corridor, toward the cavern. The two guards banged on the other doors they passed--loudly calling out.
“Prisoner escape! Call the Bishop!” More guards emerged from the doors and darted down the passage, weapons in hand.
Sprinting past the lion’s door, Joseph dodged under the brace and turned back. With a grunt, he dislodged the lumber and grasped the door’s iron handle tightly. Pulling back with all his might, he did not stop wrenching it back the door swung out into the passage wall. With a final heave Joseph leaned back, wedging the door firmly into the rock wall. On the other side of the door, he heard the footfalls of the approaching guards.
“He went into the lion room!” one man called out. “There’s no way out! He’s trapped...”
A low growl rang out from within the room. The menacing sound carried out into the passageway. Joseph’s pursuers stopped cold. In a half-second they’d rushed back the way they’d come, crying out in panic, the beasts hot on their heels. Joseph let go the door and turned to exit the terrible passage-way. Stepping through the door he straightened up, standing in the great cavern once more.
AS THE Shamar reached the dark courtyard of Hoggen Keep, Tyrus, Dunner and Hezekiah watched the cart speed away.
“I’m no runner,” Dunner said, disgustedly. “I’m thinkin’ there be another way to find out if Joseph’s in that cart.”
Tyrus turned on his heel and strode purposefully to the keep entrance, throwing back his cloak; the others followed him. The large knocker thudded deeply against the wooden door of the keep. Moments later a young guard opened the small peephole in the door.
“Who goes there?” he said, uncertainly. Tyrus held up his Shamar ring in the keep’s torchlight.
“By the authority of the King, who went away from this place in that cart?” Tyrus’ voice held no friendliness, and the youth closed the peephole immediately.
The heavy keep door opened slowly on creaking hinges. Stepping our, the young guard gave the newcomers a small bow.
“Sir, ‘twas two of the Magistrate guards; they carried away the Magistrate’s son,” the guard replied, looking at each of the three men. “Some lunatic put ‘im out cold.”
“Stand aside,” Tyrus ordered. He pushed past the youth and looked from one empty cell to the other. The gaoler walked up to him, his ring of keys jangling. Hezekiah stood near Tyrus; Dunner took his place by the main door.
Tyrus showed his ring to the gaoler.
“Where is the man who created a disturbance at the Inn this evening?” he demanded, looking down at the man. “He was brought here, and we have come to take charge of him until his trial.”
The jailer looked down,briefly, and then back at Tyrus.
“As you can see, sir,” he said, indicating the cells behind him, “there is no one here.”
Eyes narrowed, Tyrus cleare his throat.
“Joseph of Rishown,” he repeated, glaring at the jailer. “Where is he?”
“Are you blind, sir?” the jailer shot back. “There’s no one here!”
Hezekiah already had his sword in hand before the jailer’s could react. With one swift jba, he’d thrust the thin blade through the jailer’s heart and pulled it back. Wiping the blood off of his sword, Hezekiah turned to face the young guard. The youth stood against the wall, his face white; he watched, horrified as the gaoler gasped and writhed on the floor.
“Where did they take the man brought here tonight?” Tyrus asked him, somewhat more gently. The
“Where is the exit passage?” Joseph asked.
The two men looked up from their game at the door.
“The main entrance and the second shaft... Hey! You’re not allowed in here!” The larger guard stood up as he spoke, sending his chair over backwards. The other threw down his cards and reached for his sword. Joseph turned and fled back down the corridor, toward the cavern. The two guards banged on the other doors they passed--loudly calling out.
“Prisoner escape! Call the Bishop!” More guards emerged from the doors and darted down the passage, weapons in hand.
Sprinting past the lion’s door, Joseph dodged under the brace and turned back. With a grunt, he dislodged the lumber and grasped the door’s iron handle tightly. Pulling back with all his might, he did not stop wrenching it back the door swung out into the passage wall. With a final heave Joseph leaned back, wedging the door firmly into the rock wall. On the other side of the door, he heard the footfalls of the approaching guards.
“He went into the lion room!” one man called out. “There’s no way out! He’s trapped...”
A low growl rang out from within the room. The menacing sound carried out into the passageway. Joseph’s pursuers stopped cold. In a half-second they’d rushed back the way they’d come, crying out in panic, the beasts hot on their heels. Joseph let go the door and turned to exit the terrible passage-way. Stepping through the door he straightened up, standing in the great cavern once more.
AS THE Shamar reached the dark courtyard of Hoggen Keep, Tyrus, Dunner and Hezekiah watched the cart speed away.
“I’m no runner,” Dunner said, disgustedly. “I’m thinkin’ there be another way to find out if Joseph’s in that cart.”
Tyrus turned on his heel and strode purposefully to the keep entrance, throwing back his cloak; the others followed him. The large knocker thudded deeply against the wooden door of the keep. Moments later a young guard opened the small peephole in the door.
“Who goes there?” he said, uncertainly. Tyrus held up his Shamar ring in the keep’s torchlight.
“By the authority of the King, who went away from this place in that cart?” Tyrus’ voice held no friendliness, and the youth closed the peephole immediately.
The heavy keep door opened slowly on creaking hinges. Stepping our, the young guard gave the newcomers a small bow.
“Sir, ‘twas two of the Magistrate guards; they carried away the Magistrate’s son,” the guard replied, looking at each of the three men. “Some lunatic put ‘im out cold.”
“Stand aside,” Tyrus ordered. He pushed past the youth and looked from one empty cell to the other. The gaoler walked up to him, his ring of keys jangling. Hezekiah stood near Tyrus; Dunner took his place by the main door.
Tyrus showed his ring to the gaoler.
“Where is the man who created a disturbance at the Inn this evening?” he demanded, looking down at the man. “He was brought here, and we have come to take charge of him until his trial.”
The jailer looked down,briefly, and then back at Tyrus.
“As you can see, sir,” he said, indicating the cells behind him, “there is no one here.”
Eyes narrowed, Tyrus cleare his throat.
“Joseph of Rishown,” he repeated, glaring at the jailer. “Where is he?”
“Are you blind, sir?” the jailer shot back. “There’s no one here!”
Hezekiah already had his sword in hand before the jailer’s could react. With one swift jba, he’d thrust the thin blade through the jailer’s heart and pulled it back. Wiping the blood off of his sword, Hezekiah turned to face the young guard. The youth stood against the wall, his face white; he watched, horrified as the gaoler gasped and writhed on the floor.
“Where did they take the man brought here tonight?” Tyrus asked him, somewhat more gently. The
Similar Books
