Chapter 52.
“Sorry to bother,” I muttered, eyeing the four guards, scrambling to make any sense of them. “We um… we need out,” I added optimistically.
One of the guards stood, his equipment a little more ornate than the others'. He set down his pipe, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “You want… out?”
He stared at me in disbelief. My missing arm, my swollen belly, then… all of Galine, we were a sight to behold.
I glanced at Galine before simply nodding. I had to think quickly here. This was my idea; I needed to get us out. We had nothing to hide, though… the truth was far more complicated than anything needed to be.
“My son, my husband took him down to Draycott, please,” I said, trying to sound sincere and on the edge of a breakdown. “I have four shillings; that's all I have. But they’re yours if you let us out of the castle. Please. I need to find them; I need to know they're okay,” I pleaded, gesturing wildly since I couldn’t cry on command.
The guard raised an eyebrow.
Galine cleared her throat. “We're no use here. Neither of us can fight; we’re just more hungry mouths,” she pointed out. “You let us out, and we’re gone.”
I did my best to smother my smile. Well done, Galine.
“If we let you out, you're not coming back in, ever,” the guard huffed.
“I know; we won’t ask you to,” I assured.
The guard glanced at his companions and sighed. “Fine. But only because I’ve seen you around,” he shook his head, waggling a finger at Galine. “And keep your coin; I’m sure you’ll need it. This is a stupid idea, but given you’re both eating for two, I’ll allow it,” he added with a grumpy chuckle.
My cheeks flamed hot, but I was more offended on Galine’s part. That felt like a jab. I rested my hand on her arm for reassurance as the guard motioned to his goons.
They all scrambled up and started unbarricading a wooden door. After a moment, the thing was hauled open on rusty joints. The tunnel was damp and dark; it smelled like dust, a hole burrowing into the earth.
Galine didn’t make a sound.
“Eckleson,” the head guard motioned, “walk them out.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” the guard nodded, grabbing a lantern from the wall and motioning for us to go ahead.
I took Galine’s hand and gently tugged her forward. “It’s okay, just remember to breathe,” I said to her gently.
“It’s about 50 feet before you’ll go up through a trapdoor,” Eckleson offered neutrally. “It’s not so bad.”
Galine nodded, and with her grip on my hand like a vice, she silently stepped into the space. The tunnel was even more cramped; Galine was nearly horizontal, every step awkward and cramped. She stopped almost immediately.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Pamela, I can’t.”
I slipped around her, exhaling all the air in my lungs to squeeze by so I could stand in front of her. “You can,” I told her, our shadows dancing in the lantern light.
Eckleson also looked rather nervous, glancing back towards the thick wooden door that was already being barricaded closed behind us.
I focused on Galine. “Just 50 feet, and only like a fifth of that for you. Just ten big steps, okay?” I encouraged. “I know you can do it. Just walk with me.”
Slowly, we did, one step at a time, Eckleson growing increasingly irritated or something, maybe scared. Galine had her eyes closed, squeezed firmly shut, simply following my steps ahead of her. I busied myself with her, ignoring the fact that I was walking into the cramped, suffocating darkness backwards without even looking.
“You’re doing so well.” I smiled. “I can see the steps; we’re almost there.”
Galine nodded silently as we finally came to a stop.
Eckleson sighed, squeezing by the two of us to unlatch the slanted old wooden shutters. With a grunt, he shoved them open, blinding up with the brilliant night sky above.
“Up you go,” he muttered.
Galine didn’t have to be told twice. She practically dragged me up with her.
“Thank you,” I called, but Eckleson was already hauling the wooden doors closed, leaving us in a wooded area, the castle wall standing tall above on the cliff.
Galine had collapsed onto the moss, taking a moment to compose herself. I sat beside her under the moonlight.
“You did great,” I said, gently plucking at a few twigs tangled in her tail.
“That was horrible," she groaned.
I nodded, unwilling to really affirm that notion further. “You handled it just fine. You barely got stuck at all. I know you’re not good with small spaces, Galine; you really did great.”
Galine shook her head. “That was humiliating.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care if you’re scared; I’m constantly scared. I’m irrationally afraid of tall grass and pandemics; I get major call of the void when it comes to deep water and heights. What matters is that we work through these fears. And that’s what you just did.”
Galine sighed. “I know, but I’m still frustrated. It’s the reason I’ve been stuck behind a desk. What am I supposed to do if we need to cross a river? Or climb up a cliff, or go into a dungeon? I’ll panic and freeze up. It’s pathetic,” she huffed.
“I get it.” I shrugged. “What am I supposed to do if we need to outrun something? Or seriously fight? Or any number of things that require two hands. But I know you’ve got hands to lend, and you’re fast, and you can keep me safe. And I can try to walk you through the things you find hard. Like Candy and I keep echoing, we’re stronger together.”
Galine cracked a smile, but not a happy one. “Eventually it’s really going to matter, and I’ll freeze, and someone's going to get hurt.”
“Maybe,” I offered. “But… maybe not. All we can do is our best.”
“Yeah, I’m just not sure my best is good enough,” she grimaced.
I wrapped my arm around her, trying to be comforting. “It’s good enough for me,” I promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Now come on, we gotta get to the outpost before the army gets here.”
Galine nodded, hugging me back a moment longer before eventually releasing me. She stood, testing her weight on her injured leg and grimacing. “I won’t be moving particularly fast.”
“I know; it’s okay,” I smiled. “We’re in no rush.”
Galine shook her head. “We both know that’s not true.”
We continued through the wooded area, following along the natural barrier of the hill on which the castle stood. We slowly circled around to the western gate of Agocester. We passed smouldering crop fields, overturned carts, and general chaos. Galine’s neighbourhood had been ransacked, belongings tossed all over the place and homes looted.
Neither of us said much of anything. We stopped by her home, tables overturned, valuables gone, quilts and blankets stolen.
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
Galine just nodded and headed inside. I wasn’t sure if she wanted a moment alone or not; I gave her one regardless. She carried a small bag when she returned, face grim and red from crying.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she agreed weakly.
We headed back into the town, following the familiar route I had walked just yesterday morning. Yet Agocester was nothing like how I remembered it. How so much destruction could have been caused in mere hours, I had no idea. We had to take a detour; several buildings were still burning. This whole place was a cruel mirror image of the town I had grown to know.
The magic shop with its windows smashed, the market with tables overturned and stalls abandoned. It was so quiet, so so quiet. The only remaining inhabitants were the dead. Already bloated and stiff, the meat of people returning to the earth.
Eventually, we reached the outpost. The Wolfbit Mercenary Company’s outpost. Or what was left of it.
It was little more than a charred skeleton. The second floor had collapsed; it was little more than a pile of burned rubble. I could feel the heat just standing near it. Even if my money had not been looted, there was no way to reclaim it. It was dark, and details were little more than vague shapes illuminated by hot coals.
“What now?” Galine asked me, exhausted.
“Goblins,” I muttered, because I was utterly out of ideas.