Salvation in the Last Resort

Chapter 04 | Salvation in the Last Resort

Image by Spencer Tamichi

And then she stepped down the stairs, and it was obvious. No-one else in the Empire was permitted a dress of red.

Drip. Drip. Drip. That could get annoying. Well actually, it already had. It had been an incessant burrowing sound for well over a year. It would forever echo in his mind.

There was a loud clank, and there was the familiar groan of the heavy metal door swinging open. He picked his head up off the floor and stared at the far end of the cell. Wan light filtered around the outside of the door, and the heavy man entered; little more than a silhouette. There was a glint, though. There was always a glint of steel.

“Is it morning already?”

“Ha, not likely. Mother’s just slipped over for the night. No no, my boy. It’s time for your medicine.”

It was the same sergeant who’d taken him for his justice all those days before, and the glee in the man’s voice never abated. Bastard. Sadly, this man was probably the most familiar to him in all his short life. Even his parents were strangers compared to this bastard.

“What happened to the urgent need for my execution?” He sat up and spat on the floor. On the underside of his arms were a criss-cross of scars and scabs – some fresh and some old and faded. They gave him his medicine frequently.

Tubby – at least that’s what he’d taken to calling him – sauntered into the room and knelt down. He grinned as usual.

“Orders from up high, afraid. Someone wants t’make you suffer.”

He rolled his shoulders. Tubby was close enough to hit, but that did no good. It just made the medicine harder to take.

“And who is this mysterious benefactor who wants to keep me alive?”

“That, young Snake, is a mystery t’all of us. Now, you gonna give me your arm, or do I need reinforcements?”

He held out his arm, scarred side up, and gulped. A year of this, and it still had the same effect. One bead of blood, and he dizzily slipped into an uncomfortable slumber. He shuddered, but hid it from Tubby as best he could.

Tubby peered at him. “Tell me, Snake. Why is it you ‘fraid of blood?”

He looked up at the man, this oh so familiar man. The man’s stubble was short and uneven following a terrible attempt at shaving. Tubby smiled, and the gap-toothed recess of his mouth was just as it had been every other day. Grim. Looking closer though, perhaps there were a few more lines at the corner of the man’s eyes. It had been a year, and even Tubby was ageing. Only the Uncle knew what he looked like.

Tubby leaned in, and licked his lips. “Come on. Tell me.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to share my life with the likes of you. I became acquainted with blood when I was very young. A lot of blood. It has not been good for me since.”

Tubby tipped his head. “Then why be an assassin?”

“People deserve to die, and I don’t need to see their blood to do it.”

“Well that delegate spilled a lot of blood I ‘erd. Why didn’ya faint then?”

“I slammed a knife into the bastard, but I ran before I saw anything. I would rather have killed him properly.”

“Ha! I win.” Tubby stood. “For that, Snake, yer blood will stay unspilled tonight.”

He squinted and peered up at the tubby man. From this angle, Tubby’s face was hidden behind his belly.

“Why spare my blood tonight?”

“’Cos you just won me a bet. I’ll be drinking well tonight, and so should you.”

Tubby left the cell, and the door clanked back into place. The cell had no windows, and so it was impossible to tell whether it was actually dark, but this would definitely be his first night in the cells where he wasn’t in a blood coma. A whole year and this was the first time he hadn’t been bled.

He put his hand on the familiar wall and picked up the marked trail. Four hundred nights he’d been here. A year. They’d sentenced him to immediate death, but now he was waiting. Waiting and waiting. But for what? He snuggled down on the sprinkling of straw, and pulled the tarp over him. It was getting cold already.

In many ways, it was worse in the cells as a mindful being. Especially at night. The creeping cold seemed to bring out the worst in the prisoners, and the noise levels increased. It started with random screaming; pleas for food; water; clothes; anything. Blankets. He shivered beneath the tarp and put his hands over his ears, concocting ways to draw blood on his own. But there was nothing sharp enough in the cell without risking serious damage, so he would endure. He would endure.

That was until half the prisoners turned into rabid animals. They spent a large portion of the night yapping, howling, growling, and worse. He was no expert in husbandry, but he could have sworn that some of the noises were mating noises. How that was possible he did not know, but it burrowed into his head some more. By the morning, he was craving the familiar drip, drip, drip.

Only when the feral inmates died down did he relax, but by then it was surely morning. It was his first night without a bleeding, and yet he was all the worse for it. His body ached, his eyelids hung, and his throat was cracked and dry. His body was desperate for rest, but his mind would not relent. He played the sounds of the night over and over, in a looping symphony of horror. He looked around for something, anything to bleed himself with, but it was not to be. Maybe he could smash his head against the wall?

He pushed that idea aside and instead went to the wall of markings, scratching a new and fresh addition. Day four hundred and one.

The door clicked and groaned, and he sat bolt upright. He held out an arm.

“Medicine please.”

Another guard walked in – not Tubby. In fact, this was someone who’d never serviced him before. A newbie. Or maybe not a newbie. The man looked better dressed than the normal standard of guard, and better muscled too.

The guard peered at him and tipped his head. “What do you mean medicine?”

“I mean I need some release from this mad-house.”

The guard shrugged. “Well you may get that soon enough. Here, eat this.” He dropped a tray of edible looking food and drink on the floor, and didn’t even spill any of it. “You have a visitor coming, so we need you looking your best. Throw these on will you.” A grey all-in-one landed at his feet, and the guard turned back to the door.

“Who’s my guest?”

“Just eat up and wash up. You have one degree.”

It was amazing what the food and drink did for him. It was so delicious! The solid food pained him to start with, landing in a stomach that had been without substance for a year. Once he’d got over the initial punishment of eating though, the explosion in his mouth was impossibly sweet. Fruit! How had fruit never tasted so good? He would never complain of a meatless meal again.

Washing was tougher. The clear crisp drinking water was way too good to waste on washing himself, and the only other option was what was in his waste pot. He opted for a spit wash, which was unsatisfying, but the best he could hope for. He slipped on the greys, which was awkward given the chain round his ankle, and most importantly, he rolled up the invaluable note and popped it up his bum. That was a trick he’d hoped never to use again.

The new guard – he’d call him Polished – stepped back into the cell and smiled.

“Knock, knock.” He rapped twice on the door at the same time. Who did that?

“My guest has arrived.”

He nodded. “She has.”

“She?”

“Yes, she.”

Another guard walked in and placed a fine wooden chair in the cell. There was more than the usual light in the corridor, and Tubby was at the far end, looking awkward.

“Are you ready for her?” Polished stared at him.

“Ah…” What was he supposed to say? He’d always been terrible with women. Then again, all he’d had was a spit-wash, plus he had a rolled up note up his arse. Whatever happened, this couldn’t get any worse. And besides, he was a prisoner. There was no way this would be romantic, even despite the candles. “Send her in.”

Polished clapped and a small legion of red-cloaks snapped to attention along the length of the corridor, heads dropped. At the far end, Tubby practically fell to the floor. Even Polished stood still as stone, eyes to the floor. Who on Godslost could be coming to see him?

And then she stepped down the stairs, and it was obvious. No-one else in the Empire was permitted a dress of red. It was a fine dress too, well-fitting and rich. Just the look of her made him weep and shudder all at once. He balled his hands and ground his teeth.

“The Empress.”

Polished looked up. “Bow. Now.”

He shook his head slowly. There was no way he could bow for this bitch. She was the very symbol of everything that was wrong in the world.

She arrived in the cell and stood before him, all regal majesty. He had to give it to her – she was incredible. Perhaps not beautiful in the most conventional sense, but she exuded womanly authority. She was incredible.

Polished stepped behind her and pushed the chair into place. She waved him away.

“I will stand.”

Solemn Sister, that voice was enchanting. Lower than usual for a woman, but smooth as silk. This would not be a comfortable conversation.

She stared at him, and his breathing stopped. He gulped, and ground his teeth.

“You’re younger than I expected.” Her mouth tilted up.

“As are you.”

Polished came round. “To you, she is Imperial Maj-”

The Empress waved a hand. “Do not bother yourself with formality. This is not a formal situation.” Polished slunk behind her once more. “You may relax.”

If anything, he was more tense. “I could not if I wanted to.”

“As you wish.”

“It’s got nothing to do with my wish.”

The Empress tapped a foot. Her dark hair bounced around her face and matched the equally dark irises of her eyes. A dark woman for a dark role. She was Warden of All.

“Do you realise why I am here?”

He shrugged. “I have been told nothing.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Then perhaps I have a hunch.”

“Yes, I thought you might.”

“A hunch?”

“Yes. It is the way with Northmen, but then, you may know that already. And yet there is still much about Northmen that you would like to understand.”

He turned from her. In a flash of that beautiful smile, she had unwound him and wound him right up the other way. His efforts to unravel the deep past of the North in the hopes of encouraging rebellion were entirely secret. How could she know that?

“I have a casual interest.”

“Yes. As I’d hoped. So do I.”

“I rather suspect that your interest and mine are based on very different agendas.” He turned back to her.

She licked her lips and smiled that dazzling smile. “That is most certainly true. Fortunately, your agenda died when you were sentenced to the rope.”

He slumped to the floor. There was the final piece.

“So why did you save me from the rope?”

“Because, Alidinia, you are of use to me. I believe you will help fulfil my agenda.”

“And why would I do that?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Do we really need to tread over that ground?”

He looked at the straw and the floor, and licked his cracking lips. “Perhaps death holds more appeal. You are aware of my political views regarding your family?” He looked up at her and smiled. Her face did not flinch a bit.

“Your career as an empire-objecting assassin is over, Aldinia. Either you work for me, or I brand you right here and now. What will it be?” She clicked her fingers and the brander walked in with his implements. The man started heating a diseased-looking needle over a candle.

“I did wonder why I never received the chain on my face. I’ve killed enough people to warrant it.”

“Quite. But if you are going to be my personal finder, I can’t have you parading around with the mark of a murderer.”

“A finder?” She nodded. “What’s wrong with the Finder’s Office?”

She turned and stepped partway through the door, then stopped. “Let’s just say that I need someone I can have total faith in.”

“And you think I am that person?”

“Given the alternatives available to you, yes I do. Now, are you coming?” She started along the corridor.

“Wait! I’m still chained up.”

She looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You’re going to need to be more resourceful than that if you are to work for me. Let him loose.”

Polished was handed a set of heavy shears and he snapped the chain with ease. And there it was. Freedom. Of sorts. All he had to do was settle into the service of the very woman he had vowed to kill. He shivered, even though it was a brutally hot day already.