CHAPTER 22: Condemned by Trust

  Ryse had been waiting for the approaching footsteps to the barn where he and Marfas spent the night. Through the gaps in the wooden planks, he spied a dozen Isofean soldiers led by a man with cropped hair. The man halted before the door. He was in late thirties, iron armor covered his left shoulder, extended down his arm and fingers.

  “Advisor Marfas! Are you present?” he shouted. Marfas responded to the call, and the man with the cropped hair nodded, signaling the village chief to unlock the door.

  The man entered alone. He bore the gaze of someone accustomed to the battlefield. He knelt before Marfas. “Advisor, pardon my tardiness.”

  “I am in good health, Captain Wolford. Please, rise,” Marfas spoke.

  “Advisor, if I may inquire, who is this youth?” Wolford's eyes shifted to Ryse.

  “HE IS THE ASSASSIN! SEIZE HIM!”

  Marfas's accusation gave Ryse no time to prepare. Before he could draw his whip, Wolford had already pressed his neck against the wall with his armored forearm. As an active Prana Decima, Wolford's strength left him struggling for breath.

  “Mar–Marfas! What are you–”

  “Captain, please silence him.”

  Finding nothing to gag him with, Wolford improvised. He struck Ryse's face with his other hand until he lost consciousness.

  ***

  Someone shook his shoulder.

  “Ryse. Ryse! Wake up!” A familiar voice whispered near his ear.

  He sat up on a mattress with no bed frame, rubbing his eyes. “Sis... Ryse sleepy...”

  Rain poured. Wind battered the window shutters. Flashes of lightning penetrated the gap between them, casting a blue hue in their room. Elsja's red eyes briefly turned purple as she stared right in front of him.

  “Let's go, Ryse. While it's raining.” Elsja's words were half-drowned by the rain's drumming on the wooden roof.

  Their room was locked from the outside. The orphanage caretaker had not provided any light inside the room or in the hallway, leaving the surroundings almost pitch dark.

  Crack! Lightning flashed again, illuminating Elsja trying to pry open one of the wooden floorboards with her fingers.

  Crack! She retrieved a candle, a lighter, and flint from a secret niche beneath the floor.

  Sparks flew several times in the darkness before she managed to light the candle. “Hold this, Ryse.”

  Elsja tore open the mattress and pulled out its straw. She tied a bundle of straw to the window bars with torn clothing, being as careful as possible to keep it dry.

  “If we don't get out of here, they'll end up selling us just like your friends.” Elsja took the candle from him and stroked his hair. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She ignited the straw bundle. Once alight, the fire took on a life of its own. Its red tongues licked the ceiling, casting large shadows behind them.

  Elsja hugged him in the corner of the room. It was all too frightening, and he began to sob. His sister then sang his favorite song. Her gentle breath caressed his ears.

  Before the song ended, the window bars had burned down to thin twigs. However, the fire also spread and crept over the entire window frame.

  “Ryse, I'll go first.” Elsja ran without second thought and burst through the frame of fire. The burnt bars cracked, spewing sparks as they broke. She tumbled onto the backyard of the orphanage.

  As his turn came, the flames had climbed the walls and spread across the ceiling. The heat on his face and the bright flickering sparks made him shrink back in fear.

  “Ryse! Hurry! They are coming!” Elsja's voice amidst the roar of the rain could not dispel his fear, and he stepped back instead.

  “If they catch us, they'll split us up. Later, I’ll give you a big loaf of bread that you have to hold with both hands.”

  He began to sob again.

  “Ryse, don’t be scared. Just look into my eyes. Come, I won't let anything happen to you.”

  He gazed into her sister’s eyes, two red embers amidst the blaze and rain. He took the first step, then the second, the third, and soon he was running. He closed his eyes, jumped, and…

  ***

  Ryse had almost forgotten that incident. It seems some things can never truly be forgotten, they just hide in a corner to reappear at unexpected moments.

  Moment like this, when he was in a dark cell, arms hanging, body bare, awaiting execution.

  With a restraint bracelet sealing his Prana and Mana, he was practically a regular. He could not sharpen his senses to study this space, he did not even know how long he had been here.

  He lifted his head at the sound of a key turning. A silhouette against the rectangle of light stepped in. The door closed behind, plunging the room back into darkness.

  “My apologies, Master Ryse.”

  He recognized the voice well. “My lord Marfas, I am truly disappointed that you broke our agreement at the first opportunity. I did not kill Ordofel.”

  “I have conducted an investigation and... the results align with what you said.”

  “And yet, here I am locked up by you. Guess you've got another plan in mind, so begging you is just a waste of time.”

  Marfas sighed. “As you say. In Isofea, a new king is chosen from the most meritorious princes and princesses. The late King had two sons and a daughter. The eldest is Prince Ferfal, followed by Prince Isfan, and Princess Fiara. Prince Ferfal is only fit for the throne in times of peace. Prince Isfan is even less suitable, there are even rumors that he has ties with Terzion. Only Princess...”

  “Stop,” Ryse said. “Don't Isofeans prohibit torturing the condemned to death? Boring me to the point of vomiting blood counts as torture. You want Fiara, your favorite, to earn great merit for capturing the assassin, right?”

  “As you say. I cannot accuse just anyone. However, you, with so many witnesses...”

  “Have you considered my story?”

  “Your reason for heading east? I find it hard to believe your tales of disasters and dragons. Without evidence, I must consider your words those of a condemned man who will say anything to survive.”

  He heard Marfas kneel and touch his forehead to the floor, “Master Ryse, I want you to understand that this is all for Isofea. Allow me to borrow your head.”

  “Sure. Return it after you're bored.”

  “Your family and close ones will not be harmed,” Marfas replied. “I swear I shall reveal the truth after it is all over. Please state now if you have any last requests. I shall fulfill them as far as I am able.”

  “What I’m after is beyond your power. You've already explained that.”

  “Very well, Master Ryse. I shall arrange for your hangman's meal to be delivered. The execution is scheduled to take place tomorrow afternoon.”

  Marfas did not want the story of Ordofel's assassination to spread, so he did not bring a priest from the Fideris Solti order, although it was the tradition. But at least he kept his promise to deliver the last meal. The chains were loosened so he could eat.

  Ryse ate only a little. He wanted to avoid an empty stomach, maintaining enough energy to run should an escape opportunity present itself. But he also did not want to eat too much, which would hinder him.

  Wine was a courtesy, but he did not touch it. The wine was provided so the condemned would not be too agitated at the time, but again, he needed all his concentration to exploit any chance of escape.

  ***

  Just a step before Ryse left the corridor leading to the execution stage, a guard at the end of the corridor proclaimed with all his breath, “Dead man walking!”

  His call quelled the crowd's noise. But as soon as he stepped onto Renfru square, the roar of a thousand spectators erupted again.

  The midday sunlight was so bright it almost blinded him.