“You still alive?” Kaide called out, his voice echoing.
“Yes,” Jerico said, unable to muster a worthy retort to such a stupid question.
Halfway across he felt something smack against his shoulder. He immediately froze, and had to choke down his cry so Kaide would not hear. It was a rope, just a rope, though what it hung from he had no clue. Deciding that just for once they could have used the front gate, he continued. When reaching the other side, Jerico hurried the last few steps, beyond relieved to be inside another, much smaller, tunnel. Kaide clapped him on the back, then pointed back toward the bridge.
“Feel that rope?” he asked. “When I first came here, I was told that if you pulled it and held, it’d collapse enough stones from the ceiling to crush the bridge into a thousand pieces. Like I said, I pity the fools trying to give chase through here.”
Jerico pushed further ahead into the tunnel, wanting nothing more to do with the chasms. He hoped Kaide didn’t notice the slight shaking of his shield as he held it aloft for light.
“How much farther?” he asked.
“Not far.”
Sure enough, the cave angled upward, then ended with an iron door. There was no handle of any kind, and when Jerico pressed against it, it lacked the slightest give.
“Locked and barred from the inside,” Kaide explained. “Just in case someone gets too clever. Bang on it a few times. The jailor will hear.”
“Jailor?”
Kaide looked at him as if he were dimwitted.
“I said we were visiting the dungeons, didn’t I?”
Jerico struck the door with his fist, hurting his ears with the loud clang of his platemail striking metal. After a wait, and an impatient gesture from Kaide, Jerico did so a second time.
A tiny slit in the door opened up, letting in a beam of light that fell upon Jerico’s breastplate.
“The man from Ashvale,” Kaide said, stepping in front of the paladin. “And a friend.”
“You know the password?”
“I know you, One-Eye, and you know me. Now open the damn door.”
“Was that the password?” Jerico asked as the slit shut, and they heard a heavy thud as the bolt on the other side was removed.
“Nah. I just like messing with One-Eye. One time he kept me waiting for an hour while he tried to convince Arthur that the king of Mordan was down here.”
“Why’d he think that?”
“Because that’s who I told him I was.”
The small, circular door opened, flooding the tunnel with light. Kaide exited first, then offered Jerico a hand. As the jailor dropped the door shut behind him, Jerico took in his surroundings. Sure enough, they were in a dungeon, albeit a small one. He saw only two cells, and both were empty. The walls were packed dirt instead of stone. The jailor himself was an ugly man with, true to his name, only one eye. The other was missing, and without an eye patch, the vacant slot made his face all the more grotesque.
“Is milord expecting you?” One-Eye asked.
“I don’t know. Should we go ask him if he is?”
One-Eye scratched his head.
“Guess that’s all right. You go find out if he is. I’d hate to bug him if he ain’t.”
“That’s a good man,” Kaide said, smacking One-Eye’s shoulder with an open palm. “Stay sharp. I heard something big following us in the tunnel. I think it’s a dagadoo.”
“You seen it, too?”
One-Eye clutched his club tightly with both hands.
“I heard it. You can, too, if you listen quietly enough. Come on, Jerico.”
Kaide led him toward the stairs out of the dungeon.
“Dagadoo?” Jerico asked.
Kaide shrugged.
“He’s been hunting it for a year now. One-Eye’s a half-orc, you know.”
Jerico glanced back at the big lug, who crouched atop the closed tunnel door with his ear pressed against the metal.
“Does that explain the… you know…”
“That and more.”
Two guards stood at the top of the stairs, each holding a spear. They appeared to have been waiting for them, and without a word, one gestured for them to follow. They walked through the castle, which appeared plain and open compared to the earthen beauty of the caverns. At last they reached the lord’s hall, which was just the throne, two benches, and many, many guards.
“Kaide,” the lord of the caves said upon their arrival, standing to greet the man.
“Arthur,” Kaide said, bowing low. Jerico did likewise.
Arthur was a tall man with a heavy beard. When he stood, it was with the perfectly straight posture of a man who had spent years among fighting men. His green eyes were youthful, though his beard betrayed a hint of gray.
“I see you have brought a guest,” Arthur said, his deep voice booming in the enclosed room. “Greetings, paladin of Ashhur. I ask the privilege of your name.”
“Jerico of the Citadel, your grace.”
“The Citadel? I’ve been hearing rumors of its collapse. Is there any truth to the matter, or are the peasant-folk spreading lies?”
“No lies,” Jerico said quietly. Arthur’s face softened.
“Accept my condolences. No man should lose his home. Perhaps some other time you may tell me the story of how it happened, if you even know it.”
“If you wish, milord.”
“Forgive me for the intrusion,” Kaide said, “but matters have pressed me beyond courtesy. Sebastian has gone too far, Arthur. His knights descended upon Stonahm, killed many, burned our crops, and raped our wives and daughters. Twice now he has brought ruin to my home, and I will stand for it no longer.”
Arthur sat down on his throne, plain wood stained a dark brown. His hand stroked a crease in the wood, a habit of thought.
“I have never denied my brother’s occasional brutality,” he said, sounding distracted.
“But this is beyond that. This was unprovoked, nothing but a vicious display to enforce his rule. Stories of it should be reaching your hall very soon, if they have not already. I’ve sown with gold and coin a hundred seeds of rebellion, and now is the time for them to sprout. The people are ready to rise against him. They just need a name, a leader to call them to action.”
“And I wonder, why is that not you?” Arthur asked, leaning back in his chair. “The common folk love you. They tell stories of such generosity that show either they are mad to believe them, or you are mad to have done them. You would have me depose my brother, and then what? Set you up as a lord of some sort? Hand the realm over to you, so I may return to my caves? Or will those same people yearning for rebellion find the stories changed, so that I am now the villain?”
“I seek vengeance against Sebastian,” Kaide said, struggling to remain calm. “That is all I desire. You know this.”
“Aye, I do. And I know that vengeance is blinding, and once it is met, a hole remains. What will you see when your sight returns?”
“I’ll see my daughter,” Kaide said softly. “The one Sebastian’s men ravaged only two weeks prior. My men will lay down their arms, and we will return to our homes. I’ll fill that hole you speak of with the love of my Beth, the only child I have left of my precious wife. My wife, whom your brother killed. Do not doubt my loyalty, my aims, or my honor. It is you who should have ruled the North, you who could have prevented all of this. I ask that you do so now.”
Arthur pressed his knuckles against his lips as he thought. His eyes flickered between the two of them. Jerico felt the air about him thicken, and the guards seemed nervous. No doubt Kaide speaking of Arthur’s denied inheritance was a grievous breach of protocol.
“Sebastian has thrice my number of soldiers,” he said at last. “He has all the coin, all the wealth, and all the land. Can your simple villagers make up for that? Can they wield weapons on a battlefield, pay for our food, and lay siege to the Castle of the Yellow Rose?”
The slightest smile curled at Kaide’s lips.
“Just because we might not win doesn’t mean we are wrong to fight. Claim your inheritance, Arthur.”
Jerico’s mouth dropped a little. He couldn’t decide if Kaide had learned from what he’d said, or simply felt like using it because it furthered his cause. The paladin almost felt betrayed, though he knew it silly to think so.