Rykin

T

he window shattered sending shards of glass in every direction. A mixture of cowardice and smarts forced me to the floor. I looked up just in time to see Peter’s head torn off by another cannonball. He was nothing to me, just a simple guard, but it still ached to know he would die. As I looked at his body I realised his arm pointed towards a trap in the floor. His final act of heroism. I raced to the trap as the cannonballs raced to destroy the kitchen around me. I reached the trap fumbling at the handle and leapt into the cellar completely neglecting the ladder and rapidly found myself in the awful smelling air of the cheese cellar. Lucky I had managed to move my arms in front of my face before I hit the ground. I have always found that my arms are much less likely to break than my nose. Unfortunately luck never lasts. As I picked myself up I heard the roar of beams snapping as the building above collapsed with a force that caused the ground the leap for my face. Or visa versa, it is hard to tell when disorientated.

And as quick as it started, it finished and I saw Alyse again. Eleven years to my name, still clinging my mother’s dress. Back then Mother was rarely seen without me at her side. She had birthed me, raised me, loved me, protected me and you’d be damned if you though I was ever going to leave her… Yet when I saw her enter the hall I forgot all about Mother. As if her even existence was nothing compared to Alyse. Her hair flowed, getting lighter the further it fell as if it were suspended on light. Her lips smooth, eyes bright and nose… I’m not sure what makes a nose look good, but damn, hers did. She glided between the long tables like the bladed boot northerners on their ice. She stopped at the first step and performed a curtsy. “M’lord, m’lady,” spoke a deep voice, obviously not from the girl. I looked behind her to see a large man I hadn’t noticed enter. He bore enough resemblance in the face to tell me he was her father. He did an ever so slight bow to me and my mother and then continued. “This here is my daughter Alyse. I hope you do not mind me bringing her along, she has always wished to see the inside of the castle”. My mother approached the man with open arms and embraced him in a mighty hug, “Mattos, it’s been so long. Of course she’s welcome. You’re like family, she can visit any time she likes and cut out that ‘My Lady’ business, call me Gayl like old times.” Abashed he shook his head “It would not be honourable for a man of my position to gree…” “Matt! The man who has saved my father’s life countless times during the Blood War is welcome to call me wench for all it would bother me”. My Mother, always direct. “I just did my duty, M’Lad… Gayl” I wasn’t watching her but I knew my mother was rolling her eyes at him, “Come, drink with me. That capital politeness will soon wash off with a few ales in you. Rykin, why don’t you take Alyse on a tour of the halls while Matt and I catch up?”

I awoke from the dream with a numbness in my heart. Dreams have the tendency to make the dead appear alive and when you wake it’s like a fist to the gut when you remember, and they die all over again. However I have got over such feelings, yes it aches, but I have learned to ignore it. The room was in darkness. I hate the dark. I sat up, reluctant to stand for fear of my body making friends with the dirt ground for a third time. I crawled across the floor feeling my way with my hands. I nearly soiled myself when my finger met the sharp teeth a rat. A loud curse soon scared the little bugger off and I continued on. A room seems a lot larger when crawling around it in darkness. When I found the rungs of the ladder a smile inched its way onto my lips, not the fake, charming smile I use to swoon the ladies but my real, sly smile. My smile soon escaped me when I found the trap wouldn’t open no matter how much forced I applied. Evidentially the building had collapsed on the top. I glumly sunk to the floor of the cheese cellar and weighed my options (which seem too few). One, wait it out and hope someone comes to save their Lord. This option also came with the added bonus of starving to death in the dark if no one comes. Two, take the easy way out - find something sharp to slice my throat with. Three dig my way out (which could take weeks).

Being the coward and the idle fool that I am when in these situations I found myself searching for cheese. How long can a man survive only eating cheese? I had counted seventeen blocks of the stuff before my boot found something hard to kick. I hate the dark. Who even puts metal in a cellar anyway? Feeling it with my hands this time, I found it was iron ring attached to stone hidden under the dirt. Guess digging is no longer an option. The ring felt familiar in my fingers, I knew the shape and smoothness from somewhere. Perhaps the Count used to have people chained up down here? They had used rings like this to hold my chains during my time as Baron Whesper’s captive. Yet this ring felt too small and weak to hold a prisoner.  I gave up moving about after that point. Half for fear that I’d trip again and the other half for fear that I might stumble upon bones of a former captive. I was miserable, trapped in the darkness of a stinking cellar and it had been such a peaceful morning. Waking up to a featherbed and a tankard of wine in arms reach. Bliss. All that moment lacked was Alyse Stone laid next to me in all of her naked charms. Once I finally rose I was greeted at the door by Todd, a boy of ten, one of the counts many serving hands no doubt. He held with him a tray full of fruit. The Count must have done his research, not many lords break their fast on wine and fruit alone. If he could find out a simple little facts like my eating habits then how he hadn’t found out that my visit had agendas other than common courtesy I do not know. However, my plan had not involved cannons…

Todd had also brought with him a letter from the Count. Well I say letter, it was more of a note. It read:

“GreatHall - noon”

It had a rushed signature at the bottom which I presume is the Counts. It felt more like an order than an invitation which put me in the mood to burn it and send the Count the ashes on a silver platter delivered by Todd. Lucky I can bend my morals if doing so will aid my cause, after all meeting the Count was the first step of my plan. I tuned the parchment over and scrawled on the back “Splendid”. One word to challenge his blunt two. I sent it away with Todd, broke my fast and then headed towards the kennels. I hated having to keep Ellie there, but this is not my castle and they were kind enough to give her her own stall. When I arrived the Kennelmaster gave me a suspicious look. I was still wearing my road gear and naturally he thought I was a peasant. Even so he did not object. I have discovered that as long as you act and speak with purpose and look as if you are meant to be there men will oft ignore their doubts.