The Unfortunate, стр. 16

Even though a massive wall divided the military storage area from Dorstor Keep, Gildas had still been hesitant to have faith that nothing drastic could occur. If one of the most notorious criminals were to somehow escape—given he could break out of his cell, discover a way to bypass the multiple gates, and manage to elude the prison’s guards and those at the armory—a surplus of weapons and other mechanisms of war could be reached within moments. The idea was, at times, and especially now, unnerving, and Gildas was thankful several-leagues distance separated his home from the capital.

✽ ✽ ✽

Once Gildas had descended into the keep’s bowels, he had paused momentarily for his vision to adjust, but having been to the dungeons on previous occasions, he was aware of his surroundings—a large, open chamber that served as the central connector for the numerous holding areas. On each wall was a secured doorway that led to one of the three wings of the dungeon. To his left and right were the Western and Eastern Gates, named for the wings to which they provided access. The final and most appropriately named was the Death Gate, and it led to the housing for prisoners convicted of the most heinous crimes. An entry was never left open any longer than what was required for passage, and never were two of the gates opened or even unlocked at once. Despite the precautions Gildas still had his concerns. If one of the most notorious criminals were to somehow escape … The thought returned, but before he could contemplate the scenario any further, the Death Gate was opened, and a gruff-sounding man bellowed, “Move on you shit-eating maggots!” It was the constable, and he used his club to strike one of the prisoners who reacted with a slight grimace, and because his ankles were shackled, he struggled to increase his pace. After closing and securing the Death Gate, the constable turned his attention to the master of fighters. “As you requested”—he explained with a gruff tone—“the worst of the lot.”

Gildas nodded and approached the men who stood in a line along the wall. Even though he knew the prisoners’ hands had also been shackled, he remained alert for sudden movements as he continued to evaluate. It was a precaution he had always followed since the first time he had ever been required to transport convicts. The initial evaluation, however, caused Gildas to reconsider his precaution and caused him to wonder if his trip had been in vain. Despite the heinous acts with which they had been charged, many of the men appeared weak.

“If they appear unworthy,” the constable suggested as if he had sensed the dissatisfaction, “I can send for others. As I stated, though, these are the worst.”

If he were planning to recruit the men to be permanent fighters in his academy, Gildas would have accepted the offer, but he needed mere challengers, men whose deaths would be of no great loss. “No,” he answered. “These will suffice, but I do have some questions.”

The constable answered with a nod.

Gildas then noticed two of the prisoners who he knew were not natives of Winnix … or Yorcia or Armania for that matter. “What of the Drunishmen? What were their crimes? The tall one appears he could do some harm.” He then pointed to the other who was the shortest of all the prisoner. “But this one does not appear to have been able to commit heinous crimes.”

“Depending on opinion heinous can have many definitions,” the constable replied. “According to King Wyman, spying for the enemy is wicked enough.”

Gildas nodded, walked to the end of the line, and paused in front of a prisoner who was not only the tallest but also one of the few whose form suggested remarkable strength. “What of this one?”

“His past is very interesting.” The constable chuckled sinisterly.

“In what ways?”

“The foremost reason is he should be long dead, but he managed to gain King Wyman’s favor.”

Gildas nodded. He, too, was familiar with the king’s mercy. “What was his crime?”

“He raped the daughter of King Wyman’s advisor, but because of his service as a loyal guard, his punishment was reduced from death to mutilation, and he was sentenced to a few years in the dungeons.”

The trainer of the fighters, having noticed that the man still retained all his limbs, was confused. “Mutilated? By what means?”

The constable again chuckled. “As punishment for rape, the stones to keep his sword sharp were taken. If you understand my meaning.”

Gildas’ eyes widened, but he maintained his composure and paused temporally before he replied, “No further questions.” After returning to his original position, he looked to the line of prisoners and exhaled deeply. “All of you are unfortunate.” The introduction caused him to smile. He had not even been thinking about the joke his own fighters had developed, how they called themselves the Unfortunate. The words had simply leaped from his tongue. “You have been sentenced to death, but I can offer an alternative. Rather than be hanged, rather than have your entrails slowly cut from your body before you are burned at the stake, rather than perish with shame to the cheers of a crowd, you can die with honor at the same tone. Join me, prove your worth, and you may find yourselves among a brotherhood of legends.” Gildas turned to leave, but before he opened the main gate, he glanced back to the constable. “Ready them for transport to my academy.”