He didn't have much time.
"Liam," his mother gripped his arm, "We're trapped in here. What are you going to do?"
Liam gritted his teeth. "Thank you, mother, for your insightful observation," he spat. "I'm working on it."
"Well, you'd better hurry."
His mother had a way of getting under his skin at the most inopportune moments.
Just then the pounding on the door stopped. Despite their best efforts, Baron Purdun's elite guardsmen had been unable to break through the heavy crossbeam.
Angeline sighed. "Thank Lathander for his protection, it held."
"It's not over yet," said Liam.
"Liam of Duhlnarim," Captain Beetlestone's shouting was muffled by the stone walls and wooden door. "Surrender yourself into our custody, or we will be forced to smoke you out."
"Liam," said his mother, the sound of worry evident in her voice, "what do they mean?"
Samira put her arms around the older woman. "It means they intend to burn down the house."
Angeline gasped.
Liam could see the fear in their eyes. He felt it too. But more than fear, he felt guilt. Guilt over having caused this. Guilt for having put these two women through so much.
"Liam of Duhlnarim," came the dull, shouting voice again. "This is your last chance. Come out now, or we'll light the roof."
Liam looked at the heavy wooden door. He had no choice. Placing his sword on the table, he turned to his mother and Samira and put his arms around them.
"Take good care of each other," he said. "I'll miss you both very much." Then he turned and headed for the door.
Ryder lay on the floor. His body ached from the beatings. His skin wept from the burnings.
Captain Phinneous stood over him, a spent torch in his hand, and a line of sweat dripping from his shiny, hairless forehead. "This is your last chance, Ryder. Tell me what I want to know, or you die here and now."
Ryder's head lolled back on his shoulders. "Go ahead and kill me."
Captain Phinneous gripped the remnants of the torch tightly in both hands. "Are you so worthless that you don't even respect your own life?"
Ryder let his head slide gently to the stone floor. "If you kill me now, I will be immortalized." He coughed, a thick ball of phlegm dislodging itself. He spat the mucus and the accompanying blood out beside him, then continued. "The Crimson Awl shall chant my name as they knock down the portcullis and ransack Zerith Hold." He smiled as the image of the resistance marching on this fortress, killing the guards and overthrowing Purdun, ran through his head. It was the most beautiful sight. "I'll become a martyr."
Phinneous chuckled. "Get a load of this one, boys. Delusions of grandeur." He dropped the spent torch to the ground. "So tell me this. If your death somehow miraculously provides the motivation for the Crimson Awl to overcome this fortress and all the guards inside of it-something they've been unable to do for over two years now-then why didn't you get yourself killed long ago?"
The other guardsmen laughed.
"Seems you've been holding your boys back," said Phinneous.
Ryder just closed his eyes and tried to focus on the parts of his body that didn't hurt so much. Phinneous wasn't going to kill him. It would be too beneficial to the rebels to have a rallying cry, someone to fight for.
"You're missing another very important detail," continued the captain.
"Yeah?" replied Ryder. "What's that?"
"It was one of your own who tipped us off about the ambush."
Ryder's eyes shot open.
"Seems one of your own boys wants you dead." Phinneous leaned over, filling Ryder's view with his scar-encrusted bald head. "Last chance. Are you going to tell me what I want to know?"
Ryder swallowed hard and shook his head. "Never. I don't believe you."
"That's what I thought." Captain Phinneous kicked Ryder in the ribs, knocking the wind from him.
Ryder was already in so much pain that it hurt more to double over than to just lie there and let his ribs throb.
"Ryder of Duhlnarim," Captain Phinneous's voice became more formal. "I hereby charge you with the crime of conspiracy to kill the baron, Lord Purdun. Furthermore, with the crimes of organizing and leading a criminal organization in the action of attempting to murder Princess Dijara, the king's sister and the wife of Lord Purdun-"
"What?" shouted Ryder. "I did no such-"
Phinneous's boot came down on Ryder's stomach, silencing his objection. "And finally, with the crime of conspiracy to overthrow the country of Erlkazar." He leaned down, a big smile on his scar tissue-covered lips. "How do you plead?"
"This is preposterous-"
Captain Phinneous punched Ryder in the jaw. With his head against the hard stone floor, there was nowhere for it to go. His skull bounced as it absorbed the entire force of the blow.
"Right, then." Phinneous stood up. "You all heard the man," he said, pointing to each of the guardsmen. "A plea of guilty will be reflected in the record."
The guardsmen all nodded.
"This is no court," pleaded Ryder. "I demand to see the barrister."
"As punishment, I, Captain Phinneous, commander of Lord Purdun's elite guard, sentence you to a life of hard labor. You will be assigned to a chain gang and marched to the farthest peninsula of the Dragon Coast, where you will be sold as a slave to the traders and businessmen of Westgate. The warehouses there are overflowing with merchandise, and they have need of strong backs."
Captain Phinneous turned to the door. "Our work here is done, gentlemen." Placing the key in the lock, he let himself out. "Let's leave our friend here alone, so he can enjoy his last few moments as a free man in peace. His life as a slave begins today."
Chapter 5
Liam marched across the drawbridge, stopping just short of the portcullis guarding Zerith Hold, Lord Purdun's stronghold in Duhlnarim. The young revolutionary was accompanied by nearly two-dozen guardsmen.
Apparently the baron considered Liam a very dangerous man.
Without a word from Captain Beetlestone or any of the other guards, someone raised the portcullis before them. The clanking of the heavy chains as they lifted the iron gate reminded Liam of the sound of a ship's anchor. When he and Ryder were young boys, they used to hang out by the docks in Port Duhlnarim-only a stone's throw from where he was now-pretending they were pirates about to sail away on an adventure.
The sound of anchor chains meant a ship was about to leave port. Liam had loved to watch the tremendous sails being hoisted, snapping taut as they filled with air. He had always dreamed of one day taking a voyage far away from Erlkazar. The clanging of the portcullis raising reminded him of those childhood feelings. Now, more than ever, he wished he were aboard one of those ships, sailing away.
The iron gate reached its full height and stopped. Along its bottom edge, a dozen sharp spikes angled downward like a set of dragon's teeth ready to devour anyone foolish enough to enter. The sharpened metal had corroded some over the years. Its marred, pockmarked surface was reddish brown, either from rust or the coagulated blood of its victims.
Behind the portcullis, a set of huge wooden doors, banded together with iron, swung open. Liam imagined it would take an elephant, or perhaps a pair of them, to knock them down. He could honestly say they were the largest doors in Duhlnarim. Hells, they were the largest doors he'd seen in his whole life.