Viper's Creed (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (6 page)

“The patrol should be back any minute now,” the guard mentioned, following her gaze to the rack of weapons. “They usually return at sunset. I'll let you have a glance at the prisoners, but you should probably go before the Cap'n gets back. He might not like it.”

Sora nodded. Wouldn't want to upset the Cap'n, whoever that was. Then her stomach growled. She considered turning around and leaving to seek an inn for the night, but she had already come this far. She might as well see who they had downstairs. One thing was for certain, though.... She doubted such a place could hold her companions for long.

They traveled down the narrow flight of stairs. Sora found herself in a broad room with jail cells lining each wall. The place was more or less clean, but weighed down by the heavy smell of urine and human waste. She gagged on the stuffy air, feeling its thick texture in her mouth. There was no ventilation. How long had it had taken that stench to build up?

“Here's the two we captured,” he said, pointing down the row of dark cells.

He took a step forward, but suddenly a strange noise reached them through the walls. Sora was surprised that any sound could penetrate that dense building. It was hollow, like a horn or a bugle.

The guard next to her stiffened, then gave her an apologetic glance. “That would be the Cap'n back from patrol,” he said. “I've got to meet them at the gate. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere!” He turned and ran up the staircase, his boots slapping on stone.

Sora watched him go, then turned back to the dark, dank cells. She would just take a glance and be done with it. She thought of calling out Crash's name, but something about the gloom stopped her. Although she doubted that her companions were anywhere close by, she still started down the length of the room, flinching at each shadow.
Ugh,
she thought, spotting a small movement in the corner.
Rats!

The first prisoner she came across was not very impressive. She thought at first that he might be dead, he was so thin and ragged, until she saw the hollow rise and fall of his chest. She took a step closer to the bars and raised an eyebrow. Blinked. She was so tense that she had fully imagined her assassin friend lying there on the ground, dressed in rags, as bony as a buzzard. But a second look revealed a haggard stranger with dishwater-brown hair and a grizzled face. Not her assassin friend, by far.

Then something moved in the next cell over. There was a muffled groan. Sora frowned; it was a girl's voice, unexpected. She walked to the next cell and stared at a small heap inside it, curled in a ball on the ground.

The girl unwrapped herself, slowly sitting up, stretching her pale, skinny arms. She looked up with wide gray eyes, and Sora was struck by their color—lavender, in the shadows.

The prisoner didn't say a word, only stared with those large, soft eyes. She was so thin and small, at first Sora thought she was a mere child, but small mounds of breasts were protruding from her chest. Still, she couldn't have been more than fourteen. Her hair was thin, blond, platinum in the murky light, falling in wispy tufts to her shoulders. She was dressed in swaths of rags, in an assortment of different colors and fabrics. They looked like things she had pulled off of laundry lines or found discarded along the roadside. Her face was dirty and gaunt, with hollow cheeks and an alarmingly dark bruise on her jaw. Sora had the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to assure herself that she wasn't a ghost.

“What... what are you doing in here?” Sora asked, shocked.

The girl's soft, vulnerable expression suddenly changed, and Sora was met with the face of a street child, hardened and suspicious. “What does it look like?” she asked sarcastically. “They arrested me.”

“For what?”

“None of your business!” she spat venomously.

How does a child like this wind up in jail?
Sora wondered, ignoring the girl's attitude. Incredibly young and small, she looked as harmless as a fly. The girl tried to rise to her feet, but the effort took her longer than it should have; she was terribly thin and weak. Sora wondered when she had last eaten.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“I don't know, a few days,” the girl said. “They threw me in here with this other guy. They'll hang me for sure before the week is out.” Her eyes flashed defiantly. “That's what they do to us, you know. Hang us.”

Sora frowned. She wasn't necessarily against hanging criminals, but this girl was far too young to be executed. She could remember when she was that age, she hadn't known not to steal honey scones from the manor's kitchens. What could this child possibly have done to warrant hanging?

“Why?” Sora asked again.

The girl sat up straighter, looking her in the face, her eyes narrow... then suddenly she sagged, as though the wind had been taken out of her. “Stealing,” she finally said, looking to the ground. She appeared even younger now, like a small mouse. “That's all.”

Sora's heart went out to the street urchin. Where were her parents?

A sudden door slam broke the silence. Sora jumped slightly and turned toward the staircase. She could hear footsteps approaching, the soldier returning to check on her. She bit her lip, conflicted, then glanced at the girl. No one so young deserved to be hanged.

The guard appeared at the bottom of the steps, another man by his side, this one older and grayer, with a grizzled chin and pronounced nose. The older man stared at her with cold gray eyes.

“I see we have a visitor,” he said, his gaze lingering on her wrists. Sora knew what he was looking for, and turned her wrists out. She figured this was the Cap'n. He had a tall, confident stance, like a man used to giving orders.

He nodded sharply to her, then glanced at the girl in the cell. “Do you know this one?” he asked.

On sudden inspiration, Sora nodded, surprising even herself. “My sister,” she said, raising her chin slightly. She tried to hide the tremor that went through her. She had a gut-sinking feeling that she was about to get into trouble....

The Cap'n looked even colder than before. “Sister?” he grunted. “So you're related to one of these thieves?”

“Sh-She deserves a second chance,” Sora said. “Look at her, she's just a child! She doesn't know any better.”

The Cap'n snorted. “Miss, I have seen twelve-year-olds slit a man's throat! She certainly knows better than to get mixed up with outlaws. It's unfortunate that you two are related. We have strict laws about these things.” The Cap'n turned abruptly, nodding to the guard next to him. “Jesse, lock her up.”

“Wh-What?” Sora exclaimed, her eyes going wide. “But I didn't do anything!”

The words landed on deaf ears. She could tell that some unspoken rule had been broken. Apparently this town wasn't very forgiving of criminals—or their supposed families.

The guard had a regretful look on his young face, but she watched him draw a short knife from his belt. There was a rope in his other hand. “Best to come peaceably,” he said, brow furrowed. He took a careful step toward her. “We probably won't hang both of you.”

Probably?
Sora watched the man approach, shocked, then her reflexes kicked in. With a flick of her wrist, she slipped the knife from her sleeve and lunged forward. The guard's surprised yelp was his only reaction. She plunged the knife into his shoulder, then smacked his head back against the wall. His helmet fell off, clanging across the ground. The guard collapsed, blood running from his head wound.

Sora withdrew her knife and leapt after the Cap'n, who was slightly more prepared. He attempted to grab her wrist, but she kicked him squarely in the knee. It was a fierce kick, much stronger than she had intended, and a high-pitched screech ripped from his throat. Then he fell to the ground, his leg hooked at an unnatural angle. She brought the hard butt of her knife down on his head, cracking it back against the floor, and with a hollow gasp, the Cap'n went limp.

Sora grimaced at his unconscious body, slightly surprised at her own reflexes. She had been practicing with her mother for a full year, but she hadn't thought she'd improved so much. She wiped her knife clean on the tail end of the man's cloak, averting her eyes from his crooked limb, then turned back to the cells.

When she straightened up, she found both prisoners staring at her, their fists tight on the bars. The buzzard man's mouth gaped open. His skull stood out repulsively beneath his tightly stretched skin. The young girl's eyes were as wide as soup bowls.

“You... you....” the young girl said.

Sora didn't waste any time. She couldn't turn back now, and she hadn't laid out the soldiers permanently. They would be awake soon, perhaps within the minute. She yanked the keys from the Cap'n's belt and dashed toward the girl's cell. The ring had about a dozen or so keys jingling from it, and she flipped through them, trying to control her fingers, which were trembling from adrenaline. She tried the next key, and the next. Luckily, by the fourth key, she grabbed the right one. The lock turned with a rusty
crriiick
. She yanked the cell door open and held out a hand to the girl.

The girl stared at her. Her wide, lavender eyes were absolutely luminous. “Wh-what are you doing?” she finally exclaimed. Suspicion came over her face like a dark cloud. “You claim to be my sister? I've never seen you before in my life!”

Sora's mouth dropped. “Of course I'm not your sister!” she exclaimed. “Can't you see—I'm trying to get you out of here!”

“Why? Why should I trust you?”

“You can ask me later, but we don't have a lot of time.” Sora looked at the girl in exasperation. “Do you want to live or not?”

The tension ran out of her shoulders at this, and the girl nodded wordlessly. She dodged out of the cell, avoiding Sora's hand, obviously still wary.

“Hey!” the buzzard man shouted. “What about me?”

Personally, Sora didn't like the looks of the man. She could see the branding marks all up and down his arm, scars in the shape of flying birds. A Raven, indeed. He looked like he had been one for countless years.

The girl shook her head, echoing her thoughts. “No way,” she said. “He'll go straight to the others and rat us out!”

“I wouldn't!” the man said. It sounded genuine enough, but Sora wasn't convinced.

“Yes, you would!” the girl shouted, fear creeping into her voice. “I saw what you did to the last two! Bastard!”

There was no time for an argument. Sora grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her toward the stairs, away from the man in the cell. The man started banging his hands against the bars, making as much noise as possible. “Help!” he screamed, once he saw that they were leaving him behind. “Help! Guards! There's a breakout!”

Sora threw the keys behind her on last-second inspiration. They skidded across the ground toward the man's cell, but she didn't stop to see if he could reach them. The banging stopped, so he was at least distracted.
Well, that shut him up,
she thought, dragging the young girl up the stairs behind her. It would buy them a little bit more time. Hopefully the keys hadn't slid too close. She didn't necessarily want to break him out of jail... but that wasn't her problem anymore.

They reached the top of the stairs and dashed through the singular room. Two soldiers stood in the corner, both drinking tankards of ale, half-undressed, their cuirasses and shirts off. They looked up, mouths open in mid-conversation. Sora ran straight for the door.

Luckily, the soldiers took a long moment to recover. She rammed open the door and sprinted into sunlight, the girl stumbling behind her. She glanced around, looking for her horse... her horse, anywhere, her horse...
there!

Her mare was tethered to the same post, next to a line of other steeds that belonged to the guards; one could tell from their decorative saddles. The street urchin dropped Sora's hand and sprinted to the nearest horse, untying its reins.

“What are you doing?” Sora demanded, even as she swung up into her own saddle.

“I'm not going to ride with you!” the girl said. “They'll catch us in no time!”

She had a point. Sora nodded and turned her horse toward the gates. Just then, the door to the guardhouse burst open and two shirtless men ran outside, swords in hand, yelling at the top of their lungs, “Escape! Help! Raise the alarm!”

But they were too late.

The girl freed her horse, a tall, gray steed that was a few years past its prime, and dragged it around to the front gates. She was a blunt and heavy-handed rider. Sora suspected she was self-taught, but now was no time for a lesson.

With a firm kick of her legs, Sora's mare leapt into an immediate gallop. They took off into the fields, running at top speed, her steed huffing and snorting. Full night was almost upon them, with only the barest rim of light on the horizon. She could see stars winking down at her, as though cheering her on, congratulating her on her good luck. She let out a slow breath, easing into the horse's pace. Good fortune, indeed. They would lose the guards easily under cover of darkness, and by morning, they would be far, far away.

* * *

“Are you all right?” Sora looked at the girl curiously.

They had ridden all night. Eventually, they found a river and followed it upstream, hoping it would wash away their trail. Sora was confident that plan had worked. There were no signs of pursuit.