Chapter 23
Wind and drizzle passed through the cage with impunity, pausing only to linger on the prisoners before fleeing. The driver and guard of the glyphed wagon at least had heavy coats against the weather. Augni was soaked through.
The other prisoners seemed as miserable as he felt. Apart from Thjorn, who'd maintained an unflustered equanimity through their troubles. He'd also ignored Augni since their arrest, apparently unhappy with the failed rescue.
It could have gone better. He'd assumed whatever glyphs Thjorn had on him would have let him break free, yet he hadn't even tried. Had he not had any, or had he seen something Augni missed? That seemed more likely.
Regardless, they were on their way to the most notorious prison in the lands: Firepeaks. Deep in the Steelsky mountains separating Irnskyl and Dadfnir, it housed men from all countries who were locked up for more than a few months. For many it was a life sentence, no matter how short.
He tried to recall how many men he'd sent here over the winters. How many would still be here? How many would recognise him? It’d only take one and his prospects of serving his term would quickly diminish.
At least Aemere hadn't been with them. That was his only consolation. She'd only have gone to the local prison, but it would have ended her ambitions. He should never have recruited her. He should have chosen someone more like Hadlaug, who he didn't have to care about.
The mountain road rose as they neared their destination, leaving them exposed to the elements. They'd passed a couple of outlying guard posts along the road: stone towers which, while forbidding at other times, in this weather looked warm and dry. Not that there'd been any hope of getting inside. The cage had been locked on departure, and could only be unlocked by a duplicate key at their destination. The last few days had been spent inside a space barely five feet high. It hadn't been pleasant.
Other thoughts slipped away as his immediate future came into sight. Rounding a bend, they got their first view of the prison. The broken mountain stood a short way below their current position, offering an imposing view of their new home. He wondered whether the road had been elevated for that effect.
A bridge crossed the chasm separating the mountain they were rounding to the prison. Something in the long forgotten past had seen the nearest half of the mountain shattered, an uneven wall dropping through the middle until it reached the plateau carved into a flat surface.
The bridge reached the plateau short way before a wall that formed a semi-circle around the open area. It couldn't cover more than a couple of hundred meters before reaching the larger wall of stone. He could just make out dots in the wall, the entrances to their new home.
What little noise there'd been in the wagon the past days died away as their attention fixed on the sight before them. Even Thjorn's, although his eyes flicked around taking in what he needed to know. If he didn't already have a plan to escape it wouldn't be long.
The bridge was no more precarious than the steep-sided roads they'd travelled the past days, not that it was any less disturbing. Augni focussed his attention on the smaller wall. Thirty feet high, it had only limited defences on the outside, with a number of doors along its length, some open and unattended.
They passed through the gate, emerging to the imposing sight of the peak ahead. There were a few prisoners in the distance, having their allotted time outside.
The wagon drew to a halt a short way in. A heavily armoured guard unlocked the cage. They clambered out of the wagon, Augni taking it slow as he worked the knots out of his muscles. They were surrounded by guards who fastened glyph-engraved steel manacles around their left wrists.
Partway to the cave entrances stood a curved line of posts, on which would be glyphs. The glyphs on the manacles would prevent the wearer crossing the line made by the posts. Less than a century ago the glyphs would have been branded onto them. That had changed over time. Back then a branded man had been a prisoner or former prisoner; it had now become a derogatory term for those working for the guilds.
Their manacles in place, the prisoners were marched towards the line of posts. A couple of wide planks of wood, also glyphed, were held up by guards to create a safe passage through the line.
Inside the barrier they were lined up. A pair of guards stayed with them, keeping them in place. The others moved back, ignoring the line which had no effect on them.
They waited quietly, probably letting the prisoner take in their surroundings longer than strictly necessary.
Someone emerged from the outer wall a couple of minutes later, striding towards them with a couple of flunkies in tow. His armour seemed familiar. He was almost on top of them before Augni recognised him as the opponent Aemere had fought in Thurkyl. Garveig?
Augni glanced at Thjorn. His expression revealed nothing, and this wasn't the time to press him on it.
Garveig came to a halt just before the invisible line drawn by the posts. His gaze swept silently over the line of prisoners, maybe lingering a moment on Thjorn. Augni kept his own gaze unchallenging, to avoid trouble. He doubted Thjorn would bother to do so.
'I am the warden,' said Garveig. 'These are the guards. You are the prisoners. You will obey the guards in everything. Failure to do so will result in punishment.'
He nodded to one of the guards. The guard raised his left arm, pointed at a prisoner a few paces along, and touched the glyph at his wrist. The prisoner collapsed with a yelp. A guard hauled him to his feet and shoved him back into position.
'That was a brief burst,' said Garveig. 'Repeated infractions are punished more severely. You've seen the line of posts you passed through. As you’ve no doubt guessed, they have similar properties. You,' he pointed at Thjorn. 'Show us what they do.'
After meeting his gaze a moment, Thjorn shrugged. He grabbed the prisoner next to him by the collar – and by surprise – and sent him stumbling forward. He hit something solid in the air, and recoiled shrieking.
It took two guards to get him to his feet, and to hold him up as the orientation continued.
Garveig glared at Thjorn, but said nothing.
'This is your home for the foreseeable future,' said Garveig. 'You will work in the mines until you have served your allotted time. Should you still live at that point, you'll be released. Until then, you are mine. You will work when told, eat when told, sleep when told. You will have half an hour up here every day, no matter the weather. Most of all, you will obey. Do this and you might survive to see freedom. Don't and your term will be extended at my discretion. If you obey, we'll probably never talk again. If not, our next conversation won't be as pleasant. Your time here will be less painful if you behave.'
With another sweeping gaze, he turned and strode away. The guards harried – or in one case carried – them towards the caves.
The wall of stone loomed large as they approached, seeming to collapse on them as they entered the sullen holes. It took a moment to adapt to the poor light, even with glyphlights offering pale illumination through the tunnels.
'These are the cell caves,' said the lead guard. 'Each covers a few floors. These are your homes. Each cell network has its own kitchen, manned by prisoners, and its own rota for working the mines. This one takes the night shift. Behave and you might get moved to one of the cushier day shift networks. Don't behave, and you probably won't see sunlight for a while.'
They ascended a couple of flights of rough stone stairs, gouged out of the mountain and worn down over time. The sullen glances of the waking prisoners met their progress, predators looking for new prey for the most part.
Reaching a series of unoccupied cells, they were shoved into them in pairs. Augni made sure he was next to Thjorn when they were pushed in. It'd be safer to have someone they trusted nearby.
'It'll be a couple of hours before you start your first shift,' called the guard. 'You can try to sleep if you like.' He didn't seem to consider it likely, or be concerned whether they did. He led the other guards out.
The cell was maybe s
ix foot wide, seven foot high, and eight foot long. A wooden bunk of dubious stability took up the right half of the room, and the floor had a hole in the far corner.
Thjorn took it in silently. Then he claimed the top bunk.
Sighing, Augni leant against the wall. 'You wanted to be here, didn't you?' he asked.
Thjorn looked at him.
'You set Aemere up with the warden because you needed him beaten and back to his job, so he'd be here when you were. You need him in place for whatever plan you have for getting out. That means you have a way out.'
Thjorn regarded him with irritation. 'I expected to get captured, yes. So I had a plan to get out and wanted someone predictable in charge. What I didn't plan was you disobeying me and getting captured. It complicates things.'
'Disobeying?' said Augni. He bit back his response at the footsteps in the corridor. He exchanged a wary look with Thjorn, who rolled off the bunk and leaned against it as they waited.
Whoever it was inspected the other new arrivals in silence. They were looking for someone, and that couldn't be good.
The footsteps reached their cell, and a handful of hostile faces peered in, the front one hardening with recognition.
'Snaenjar,' Thjorn said with casual ease. 'Did you want something?'
The thief glowered. His usual dapper appearance had descended into what could, at best, be considered scruffy. Pale stubble marred his chin, and his clothes were the worse for wear, but at least the hostility in his eyes was familiar.
'Look who it is, lads,' said Snaenjar. 'The bastards responsible for our incarceration.'
Augni gave Thjorn a questioning glance. He shrugged. Presumably they were some of the Akar gang, but Augni had no idea how they’d been responsible for them being here. Maybe the heat from the theft. Not that he felt guilty.
'You're welcome,' said Thjorn. 'If you don't mind, it has been a long journey and I’d like to get some sleep. So can we skip to the empty threats.'
'Empty threats?' said Snaenjar. 'Now who's making empty threats?'
'Since you've yet to act, you,' said Thjorn. 'Given the situation I imagine you’re confirming the rumour you heard that we were here. With the other new prisoners nearby you can't be sure that if you act – and actually succeed – whether any of them would tell. You won’t put revenge ahead of getting out of here a couple of summers earlier, so you'll wait for another chance, probably in the mines where it can be written off as an accident.'
Glaring, Snaenjar made no move. A sneer soon appeared. 'I notice you're not trying to bluff about hidden glyphs this time.'
'I assumed it went without saying. I can say it if you'd like.'
'Make all the jokes you like. You know full well neither of you is going to last long here.' With a final glare he stalked off.
Thjorn climbed into his bunk.
'Did you plan for that?' asked Augni.
'Him specifically? No. His kind in general? Of course.'
'And what is the plan? Or do I still not get to know?'
'The plan’s being revised, since it originally only required my escape,' his voice rose and he glared. Then he turned over to get some sleep.
Leaving Augni alone with his thoughts, starting to regret going to Thjorn's aid.