“Oh, he’ll take the bait alright,” the Rat said, his swaggering grin crawling further up the corner of his lips.
Warlord Lewd did not turn around. He continued down the aisle. A cocky smile crept onto his own lips, feeding off the confidence that oozed off the Rat.
Warlord Lewd sat alone in a ten by ten foot bunker walled in by pre-cast concrete blocks known as the Brick. He tapped his fingers nervously on the armrest of his highback cushioned armchair. He shunned the canopied bed, buried in heaps of colorful pillows and silk bed linens, which was starkly out of place in his walled hole. He also ignored the marvelous platters of rich delicacies arranged atop his gilded Elm bedroom set. The Brick had no obvious entrance except a small sliding secret window reinforced by iron bars. The secret entrance could only be opened by a lever from the inside.
Lewd had pulled his chair up to the window and pressed his ear against the cold steel panel. His sharp anxious breaths echoed in the small uncomfortable space. His inept servants crammed way too much furniture in here. He felt suffocated by his own cramped luxuries. His brow dripped with sweat and he could barely keep his heart from shivering inside his chest. He could hear nothing.
He cracked the metal window and listened harder. He peered through the small gap and saw that the far side was still stacked with unmortared bricks that concealed the window from the opposite side. His men would not remove the brick until the coast was clear.
The crimelord sat back and steamed in frustration. ‘Curse this infernal chamber!’ he thought bitterly, ‘better to be out there with my wits about me than trapped in here like a child’s caged play thing. At least then I could see what was going on!’
Warlord Lewd held his breath and listened again. He felt a slight breeze blow through the crack. It howled softly in his ear.
Still nothing. He regretted his decision not to bring any of his recreational pastimes into the bunker. He had decided his pleasures had not been worth the risks of exposing his location due to the moaning of some daft whore or the slip of his own tongue wagging under the influence of dust or alcohol. Control and self-restraint were two attributes that had won him his empire. He would be a fool to abandon such high caliber virtues now. This night will pass he had told himself. But what good had all his mental preparation done for him when he could not hear a thing?
The crimelord jumped. He thought he heard the sounds of muffled screaming. He pressed his ear up against the crack again. He heard it again, ringing loud and clear, followed by more screaming and shouting. They sounded distant, but came from the direction of the throne room.
A long horrible silence ensured.
Lewd held his breath. Eventually, the silence was broken by the sounds of boots clambering down the hallways and the rattling of armor. He let out a long sigh of relief. Thump! Thump! The bunker rattled. Bits of stone and mortar rained down from the ceiling. The dust stung his eyes. The warlord coughed and spit the grit out of his mouth. He could swear he heard the sounds of stone cracking.
Lewd looked up. More rubble rained down as settlement cracks spread on the ceiling. He frowned knowing the disturbance could only be explained by Kishrub and Zulbash’s walloping blows to the compound. ‘Curse those two fool bodyguards!’ he thought, ‘Any more blundering and you’ll bring the entire city of Kurn down on my head!’ He heard a few more shouts and then everything went dead quiet again.
Warlord Lewd sucked in his breath. His heart pounded with a riotous fear. What if Shade had killed everyone? What if Shade had peeled the Brick’s location off the tongue of one of Lewd’s spineless associates? Would the cruel assassin simply lounge in the adjoining room, helping himself to the palace kitchen, all along indulging in the pleasures of Lewd’s Women, as he bided his time? How long would he wait? The warlord’s rations would barely last the week. ‘How long could I wait?’ he thought in horror, ‘how many days and nights before starvation or dehydration drove me out of this foul hole and into Shade’s waiting hands?’
“Guards!” he whispered harshly.
Silence.
Lewd grit his teeth and seethed louder, “Guards!”
Still, only silence.
“Guards!” he barked, “Answer me or I’ll feed you to the Sharkgates!”
After another moment’s hesitation, he saw one of the loose bricks removed. He felt an unsteady pressure build in his bladder. ‘Desmoana’s black heart!’ he thought bitterly, ‘What have I done?’ He pictured Shade’s glowing yellow eyes gloating at him from the opening. Everyone must be dead! He could see their cruel glow, mocking him, tormenting him like the eyes of a demon gloating over the souls of the damned. The image burned so strongly into his mind, it took him a moment to recognize the apprehensive bearded face of one of his Brigorian guards.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” he said, “it’s just not safe to speak now.”
“I heard screaming,” Lewd replied, “what’s going on?”
“Shade went for it,” the guard told him quickly, casting a cursory glance over his shoulder, “he went after your decoy and took the ambush head on. We lost many men and the Rat has gone missing, but we think Shade is wounded.”
“Good, then seal me off until he is dead.”
“Yes, your greatness.” The guard bowed and replaced the brick.
Warlord Lewd clenched his teeth. He watched as the light from the adjacent chamber winked out again. His treacherous thoughts nibbled away at his momentary comfort. Wounded? How wounded? At least Shade too can bleed. Then he heard more shouts and screams on the far side of the wall.
“He’s here!” Lewd screamed. He backed up and hit the rear wall. His armor clanked loudly against the brick. He had forgotten about the small size of the bunker. He clung to the wall trembling. His bladder nearly relieved itself. Death’s messenger had come. It seemed like an eternity before someone removed the bricks. The hand was gloved in black, like Shade’s hands, like the hands of death reaching for him.
Warlord Lewd squinted fiercely. The torchlight seemed so bright it blinded him. He could not make out the person’s face.
“My lord, my lord,” came a friendly voice, “we got him!”
““Where is he?” Warlord Lewd demanded, “I want to see his body!” The warlord hurried down the hallway following a host of guards. They grinned brazenly, but Lewd’s victory felt less sure as he stepped around the sheer number of bodies that littered the floor. He even saw a few corpses strung upside-down hanging from the large iron chains that decorated the ceilings. ‘That’s just chilling,’ he shuddered. His eyes lingered on every cold dead face he passed by.
Lewd hurried through the open double doors and into his antechamber. A throng of hired thugs, servants, harlots and the warlord’s other rabble crammed the chamber full. The mob parted at his approach. He saw the hooded figure of the Rat leaning casually against the front wall, arms crossed. Kishrub and Zulbash’s massive hands pinned an invisible figure down, betrayed only by the cruel shape of his bloodstained outline. Yessheeran had nearly uncoiled his full form and twisted his snakish torso over the unseen figure in the creepy slithering manner managed only by Syssrah. A sadistic grin leaked over Lewd’s face. Shade was dead!
The puddle of blood splashed as the unseen figure thrashed unexpectedly.
The warlord jumped back. “He’s not dead?”
Kishrub and Zulbash pressed their weight down.
Shade stopped moving.
“Don’t worry,” the Rat said coolly, “he’s not getting back up.”