Chapter 13d: Another Trap

On the other side of the palace where the light of day had never reached, a robed figure crouched in the darkness, waiting.

Twelve hundred years ago he had been a man known as The King Killer, a well-earned nickname, a testament to his abilities. The civilized world knew him for his skills in dealing silent death, and for the right coin he boasted that he could kill anyone. It wasn’t an empty boast. The King Killer combined cunning genius with the stealth of a great cat to make him a life ending machine that brought fear to the hearts of friends and enemies alike. There hadn’t been a class of people he hadn’t brought death to, whether they be homeless drunks, wealthy merchants or even powerful kings, he had killed them all when the coin matched the job. Status, religion, skin color or sexual preference didn’t mean a thing to him, just the coin, just the reputation, just the kill. He brought assassinations to a new level in his day, changing it from simple brutish henchmen work to a true form of art.

His wonderful life had ended quite suddenly, but not in a way he thought it would. Pursued through a forest after his latest kill, a barbarian lord had forced him deep into the marshy woods. He had almost escaped, a mere mile or so from freedom, when he fell into a peat bog, banging his head on a root and drowning in the organic soup. He had always pictured himself dying in a sword fight, or even being vengefully stabbed in the back, but never drowning under putrid water with no one around to witness it.

Over the centuries his body had merged with the bog, taking in its minerals and rich organic makeup, preserving him to a great extend. Protecting his body against the ravages of time. Turning his skin to into a pliable leathery material, making it as dark as the murky water that surrounded it.

He probably would have stayed that way until the bog dried up if a hand hadn’t reached beneath the shallow waters and drug him to the surface, toting his black body to an even darker place. He was glad to be back, doing what he loved to do.

The King Killer grabbed his wrist and squeezed. He let go and gently ran his fingers along the indentions left by his grip as they slowly smoothed back over. He skin was pliable, like dough. Even his bones had softened up, Not to the point of making him a wobbly mess, but with a slight elasticity, allowing them more give, making them harder to break, almost like cartilage. Unlike dough, his skin glistened black, onyx. Not the blackness of a normal dark skinned man, but the blackness of night, the black of a crow. He liked his new self, the perfect representation of his inner self, his soul.

A light flickered just under the door. Dim voices whispered back and forth. The King Killer stood and waited.

As the clomp of footsteps echoed through the chamber just beyond the door noises became louder, clearer. A deep voice rumbled, "Help me with this here wine shelf, Champ. It’s heavy as the dickens and I don’t want to be droppin’ any of the wine."

Another voice, full of laugher, replied, "Then why don’t ya just take the bottles out. Set them off to the side."

"Awe come on. You want me to move pull all these here bottles just to move this shelf over a few feet and then put them all back. That’ll take half n’ hour when movin’ the stinkin’ shelf with the bottles’ll only take a couple of minutes. Besides, it ain’t like we’s gonna come back here and drink it after this."

Some of the laughter died from the second voice, "Yeah, you be right about that. I figure once we leave here the dead’s gonna be the only ones drinkin’ the wine, and I doubt they would appreciate it much."

Another set of footsteps moved in. A third voice echoed off the walls with military authority. "You two shut it up and just get that shelf out of the way. We need to make sure the door to the caverns is accessible and not stuck. We will be needing to use it in the next day or so."

The deep voice replied, "Yes sir. I’m sure glad that the Renier’s never closed this secret exit off. Coarse, it ain’t so secret no more, or won’t be for long. What, with everyone traipsin’ through here to escape."

"Well, come on Grommy. You’re the one that asked me to get the other end of this here shelf and now ya just stand there flappin’ yer trap. Let’s do this already."

Grumbles escaped the lips of the deep voiced one and then the chamber filled with a loud screech as the wine rack skidded across the floor.

Footsteps. Keyes jingling. Clicking inside the door. A bar being lifted. The door opened.

The King Killer moved deeper into the shadows as three men stood in a pool of torchlight. One of them raised his torch high into the air and pointed it down the cavern shaft. "Don’t look too inviting, does it, sir?"

The skinny man with the laughing voice replied, "Looks like freedom to me Grommy."

The one in the center, wearing leather armor, put his hands on their shoulders and said, "Okay, let’s lock it back up and tell Duke Renier that the exit is ready."

He had to slip through the door before they closed it and locked him out, but he couldn’t do that while they stood in the way, and he couldn’t kill them yet without alarming everyone in the palace, and he wasn’t ready to do that just yet. With a flick of his wrist he launched a small stone into the darkness, further down the stone corridor.

The men spun around as the stone met a wall and clattered to the floor.

Grommy held his torch out towards the darkness. "Did you hear that, sir? Somethin’s down there."

"Sssssshhhhhh"

They waited, listening to the darkness, hearing nothing.

The armored one drew his sword and walked into the corridor, the other two followed his example. They walked past The King Killer, oblivious to his presence as their eyes and ears focused on something further down the passageway.

He let them walk a little further into the darkness before creeping out and sliding through the door. As he walked past the wine rack he glanced back into the darkness, where three forms silently crept over the rough stone floor. He smiled and thought, Thank you gentlemen. I couldn’t have done it without your help. Then he walked on, into the palace to earn his keep.