“I’m thinking of leaving,” answered the Drenai. The old man had laughed. I’m serious, my friend. Don’t come for two days.”
“There’s no way out. The door-stone alone requires two men to move it, and there are two bolts holding it in place.”
“If you are correct,” Druss told him, “then I will see you here in three days.”
Now he sat quietly in the dark. The ointments his friend had supplied had healed most of his sores, and the lice powder - while itching like the devil’s touch - had convinced all but the most hardy of the parasites to seek alternative accommodation. The food over the last months had rebuilt Druss’s strength, and his teeth no longer rattled in their sockets. Now was the time, he thought. There’ll never be a better.
Silently he waited through the long day.
At last he heard the jailer outside. A clay cup was pushed into the opening, with a hunk of stale bread by it. Druss sat in the dark, unmoving.
“Here is it, my black-bearded rat,” the jailer called.
Silence. “Ah well, suit yourself. You’ll change your mind before long.”
The hours drifted by. Torchlight flickered in the corridor and he heard the jailer halt. Then the man walked on. Druss waited for an hour, then he lit his lamp and chewed on the last of the meat the old man had left the night before. Lifting the lamp to his face he stared hard into the tiny flame, passing it back and forth before his eyes. The light didn’t sting as once it had. Blowing out the light he turned over on to his stomach, pushing himself through one hundred and fifty press raises. He slept…
And awoke to the arrival of the jailer. The man knelt down at the narrow opening, but Druss knew he could not see more than a few inches into the dark. The food and water was untouched. The only question now was whether the jailer cared if his prisoner lived or died. Cajivak had threatened to have Druss dragged before him in order to plead for death. Would the Lord be pleased that his jailer had robbed him of such delights?
He heard the jailer curse, then move off back the way he had come. Druss’s mouth was dry, and his heart pounded. Minutes passed - long, anxious minutes. Then the jailer returned; he was speaking to someone.
“It’s not my fault,” he was saying. “His rations were set by the Lord himself.”
“So it’s his fault? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No! No! It’s nobody’s fault. Maybe he had a weak heart or something. Maybe he’s just sick. That’s it, he’s probably sick. We’ll move him to a bigger cell for a while.”
“I hope you’re right,” said a soft voice, “otherwise you’ll be wearing your own entrails for a necklace.”
A grating sound followed, then another, and Druss guessed the bolts were being drawn back. “All right, together now,” came a voice. “Heave!” The stone groaned as the men hauled it clear.
“Gods, but it stinks in there!” complained one of the guards as a torch was thrust inside. Druss grabbed the wielder by the throat, hauling him in, then he dived through the opening and rolled. He rose, but dizziness caused him to stagger and a guard laughed.
“There’s your dead man,” he said, and Druss heard the rasp of a sword being drawn. It was so hard to see - there were at least three torches, and the light was blinding. A shape moved towards him.
“Back in your hole, rat!” said the guard. Druss leapt forward to smash a punch to the man’s face. The guard’s iron helm flew from his head as his body shot backwards, his head cannoning into the dungeon wall. A second guard ran in. Druss’s vision was clearing now and he saw the man aim a blow at his head. He ducked and stepped inside the blow, thundering his fist in the man’s belly. Instantly the guard folded, a great whoosh of air rushing from his lungs. Druss brought his clenched fist down on the man’s neck, there was a sickening crack and the guard fell to his face.
The jailer was trying to wriggle clear of the dungeon opening as Druss turned on him. The man squealed in fright and elbowed his way back into the dungeon. Druss hauled the first guard to the entrance, thrusting the unconscious body through into the cell. The second guard was dead; his body followed the first. Breathing heavily Druss looked at the door-stone. Anger rose in him like a sudden fire. Squatting down, he took the stone in both hands and heaved it into place. Then he sat before it and pushed it home with his legs. For several minutes he sat exhausted, then he crawled to the door-stone and pushed the bolts home.
Lights danced before Druss’s eyes, and his heart was hammering so fast he could not count the beats. Yet he forced himself upright and moved carefully to the door, which was partly open, and glanced into the corridor beyond. Sunlight was shining through a window, the beam highlighting dust motes in the air. It was indescribably beautiful.
The corridor was deserted. He could see two chairs and a table with two cups upon it. Moving into the corridor, he halted at the table and, seeing the cups contained watered wine, he drained them both. More dungeons lined the walls, but these all had doors of iron bars. He moved on to a second wooden door, beyond which was a stairwell, dark and unlit.
His strength was fading as he slowly climbed the stairs, but anger drove him on.
Sieben gazed down with undisguised horror at the small black insect upon the back of his hand. This,” he said, “is insufferable.”
“What?” asked Varsava from his position at the narrow window.
“The room has fleas,” answered Sieben, taking the insect between thumb and forefinger and crushing it.
“They seem to prefer you, poet,” put in Eskodas with a boyish grin.
“The risk of death is one thing,” said Sieben icily. “Fleas are quite another. I have not even inspected the bed, but I would imagine it is teeming with wild-life. I think we should make the rescue attempt at once.”
Varsava chuckled. “After dark would probably be best,” he said. “I was here three months ago when I took a child back out to his father. That’s how I learned that Druss was here. The dungeons are - as you would expect - on the lowest level. Above them are the kitchens, and above them the main Hall. There is no exit from the dungeons save through the Hall, which means we must be inside the Keep by dusk. There is no night jailer; therefore, if we can hide within the Keep until around midnight, we should be able to find Druss and get him out. As to leaving the
