Chapter 58: [058] Cale Escape
[Blackstone Village]
It was evening.
The village was busy despite the dark hours.
The men of the village gathered in circles and drank together while discussing how they had maltreated their slaves. Some of them even boasted about how they had forced themselves on the beautiful women.
The women of Blackstone were no saints either. They also held their small meetings to discuss how brutal they had been to their slaves. They even discussed their envy of the women of Ironside, who, despite harsh treatment, did not lose their beauty. It irritated the women to the core.
Kellan Blackstone’s dwelling was busy as well.
At the moment, two young female slaves could be seen massaging his bare open chest. They wore sad expressions, making it clear that they were being forced.
Kellan, on the other hand, had a wide grin as he spanked their buttocks and groped their breasts without mercy.
There were some elders sitting opposite him in arranged seats that faced each other.
At the moment, none of them dared to speculate about Kellan’s private time. Their heads faced the ground, scared they would offend him if they brought it up.
...
The situation for the slaves was different.
They had a special, big, one-room building where all the slaves lived together in extreme conditions.
Since it was nighttime, only a few female slaves were allowed to stay with the male slaves. The others had either been sent to the chief’s place or were being harassed by other evil men who dwelled in Blackstone.
At the moment, Cale gathered all the men and preached to them. The three women in the big room were currently asleep after an extremely exhausting day.
Today wasn’t the first day Cale had started this. It had become his routine since he was captured.
But tonight was special.
They were planning an escape.
"Are you sure this is safe?" the youngest among the five being preached to complained, worriedly.
"Don’t be a pussy," Cale remarked as he glared at him. "We’re men of Ironside, followers of the great Ragnar Ironside. We cannot be cowards, and we definitely cannot be caged against our will."
Cale’s voice was loud, filled with rage and authority.
The men gathered around him, respecting him deeply.
Their respect began when he fought for them.
Although it got them beaten, it made them see the leadership spirit he possessed, which reminded them of their deceased chief, Ragnar. Since then, they became his dedicated followers.
There were twelve of them at the moment; the rest were still working. The oldest among them was in his forties, and the youngest was only a couple of years into his twenties.
Cale was the third youngest, being only twenty-eight.
But he commanded respect with his feats. After all, before he was captured, he could hold his grant against the sons of Haralds, who were the strongest. He had even won several times against his best friend, Viktor.
Cale scanned their expressions and continued.
"Today is the right time. I overheard some soldiers have been sent to Ironside, clearly to torture that weakling of our chief and demand his crystal of authority."
With emphasis on his last statement, one could tell he loathed Floki.
"Still, Cale, it is not safe. We’re unharmed. All the soldiers here have sharp weapons and are well trained. I heard the guards of the village entrance are among the strongest soldiers. How can we get past them?"
The oldest asked with concern.
"Listen to me before assuming nonsense. Have I ever made plans without preparation?" Cale retorted.
"You don’t have to place it that rudely," the speaker grumbled.
"Keep shut and listen." Cale shut him down angrily, causing him to flinch.
Then Cale proceeded to lay out his plans.
He had been able to steal a few weapons, bit by bit, unnoticed by anyone.
He had stored those weapons inside this big room.
As he began telling them his plans, he went and revealed the hiding spot.
There were over a dozen weapons—swords, daggers, and glaives.
The men were shocked.
But one of them, the oldest, was extremely concerned.
"This is insane. What would have happened if the soldiers came to search and found these? We would be beheaded," he complained openly.
"Are you dead now?" Cale asked coldly.
"No."
"Then shut the hell up and follow my lead."
He then resumed what he was speaking about.
The oldest was clearly pissed, and his grumbling could be heard, though it was lowered and Cale couldn’t hear it.
Cale finished his briefing. He prepped all of them, and then their plans kicked into full motion.
They started by causing a ruckus inside the house, irritating the two soldiers outside, who opened the door and came to reprimand them.
They caught the two guards off guard, stabbing them mercilessly and covering their mouths to prevent them from screaming, before dragging their dead bodies into the hut.
Cale took the keys and freed himself and the men.
The women were awake; they pleaded to go with them, but Cale refused outrightly, claiming they were dead weights that would slow them down. He didn’t see the need to carry them along, as they would return soon to rescue all of them.
The other men refuted. Some had lovers they could not leave behind, but Cale reprimanded them, and the men, against their will, went with him.
The mistake Blackstone made was locating their house away from the real neighborhood.
This gave them the opportunity to sneak out of the house and into the bushes without getting caught.
Using the bushes, they gradually closed the distance to the exit.
When they got there, as predicted, five soldiers were guarding it.
Cale’s second plan went into motion.
"You two, the oldest. You should carry out this important task. Don’t you want to be men enough to save your women?" he said.
The two exchanged glances and agreed, then he told them what to do.
The men blindly followed, their heads expanding as they thought about the praises they would receive from the women if they succeeded.
But unknown to them, they had been offered as the sacrificial goats.
The two of them sneakily switched paths. They entered the bush on the other side, different from the one Cale and the others were hiding in.
Their task was to trouble the weed and draw the soldiers’ attention so the others could run out.
But that was totally not what Cale wanted.
Cale brought out a dagger he had hidden in his clothes.
He aimed at one of the men and threw the dagger lethally at him.
His aim was good. He was not a beginner, having practiced this skill for this particular plan.
The dagger stabbed the lower abdomen of the overall oldest, who had been questioning his authority earlier, causing him to cry loudly in pain, drawing the attention of all the soldiers.
The soldiers drew their weapons and foolishly left the wooden gate to see the source of the pained scream.
The soldiers found the two men.
Their loud reprimanding voices and the sound of beating followed. The two had been captured. Their fate was unknown.
Using this opportunity, Cale and the others sneaked out.
Seeing his cruel method, none of the others dared to speak up against him.
But they knew within them.
Cale could never become the chief of Ironside. Not today. Not ever.
The soldiers were focused on trying to figure out why the two men were free of their shackles and outside by this hour. As a result, they did not see Cale and the others leaving. After all, it was nighttime, and the moon’s illumination was not sharp.
Cale and the ten men with him ran with all their might.
Unaware of the fate that awaited them.