- a very brief look at Hugh Ironhand's prison break -
* * *
“I’m not certain you quite understand…”
Kallian glanced down at her toes. This could be going better. If only Alduin Guard training had included an intensive in Batting One’s Eyelashes Flirtatiously. She must have been on assignment that day.
The guard in front of her slumped from side to side. He had a red blotch on his cheek and a pattern of spots across his nose. She didn’t need to dip into his psyche to know he favored the bottle a little too much. She did, however, slip into his thoughts briefly, if only to ferret out some means of making this go more smoothly. Time was not on her side, nor was the sort of womanly wiles that would make this ‘seduction’ a success.
“Look, we should discuss this somewhere else,” Kallian continued, toeing the ground. Behind the guard, through the bars, a low chuckle sounded. “You know… in private?”
“Gods. She’s trying to get in your drawers, boy.”
Kallian glanced over the guard’s shoulder, shooting Hugh a look that could freeze molten steel. Dark and shagged from confinement, Hugh watched from a splintering stool. Silver flecked his temples, adding gravitas to a lined, wolfish face that had unsettled innumerable enemies. He smiled back, shrugging. She might’ve expected as much. It was only because of her deep respect for Hugh that she resisted the urge to wade through his memories and pull something suitably embarrassing to use on him later. No, she wouldn’t have the nerve for that unless they celebrated his escape with a bottle or seven of wine. Which she would refuse. Drinking with one’s superior was never wise.
“I, um…” The guard shifted and stammered, blushing to the roots of his hair. “Oh.”
“Kids these days,” Hugh added in an amused whisper.
Almost the last straw. Almost. Kallian blinked, tearing her attention in two, part of her listening to the oblivious pillock in front of her, the other half sailing through the bars and into Hugh’s cell.
Just remember, you made me do this.
She saw Hugh shiver and frown. It was always a little messy, communicating with someone else silently. He would have a headache for the rest of the afternoon. Not that he didn’t sort of deserve it.
“You’re going to hand me that key,” Kallian murmured, nodding toward the ring dangling at the guard’s side. The guard scoffed and then twitched, his eyes growing unfocused as she gripped his will to refuse and dismantled it. He drooled a little. Then his hand lifted, bringing with it the jangling set of keys.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the keys. “Now please wait over there. We won’t be a moment.”
“Yes,” the guard said, nodding. He sidled away, stumbling as he went to the far wall and sat down against it, his feet straight out in front of him.
Hugh was shaking his head, climbing to his feet as the cell door swung open.
“I hope you didn’t hurt the lad,” Hugh said, following her out of the low, drippy chamber to the corridor. He nudged the dazed guard with the end of his boot.
“Nothing a long, long nap won’t cure,” she returned. “Now that I’ve debased myself for your entertainment, could we be going?”
Her pace quickened, the keys looped into her belt in case they met another barrier. Hugh kept up, falling into stride beside her as they took the left fork at the next series of halls.
“Why the sudden urgency?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Half the city elite should be jumping down Gilbright’s throat by now.”
“That’s the least of our problems,” Kallian replied. She could feel it, distant, but there, a warning, an omen that was growing into something dark and menacing on the horizon. They reached another fork. The guards ahead had stopped their usual pacing, speaking in hushed tones about the escorts that had just raced back to the city. Down the hall, through a tiny window, Kallian heard the noises of battle begin, shouts of victory and defeat growing nearer and louder.
They would encounter little resistance during this escape. The Alduin conscripts had created an alarming enough diversion. Gilbright and his soldiers engaged the Prince and Princess’s guards even now…
Hugh’s fist tugged her back, a vice around her wrist.
“What is it?” he asked, all sense of humor fleeing.
Kallian stared up at him, weighing her options. On the one hand it was folly to lie to her commander. On the other hand…
“A warlock traveled in Gilbright’s party,” Kallian whispered, pain searing across her forehead. “A half-elf.”
“Yes, I know all of that,” he snapped. “Corellon’s ass, woman. What have you sensed?”
“I warned them,” she added, as if that changed anything. Hugh’s grip loosened, a shadow passing over his eyes as he took a tiny step back. “I warned them, Hugh, and yet… The Enemy’s corruption has overcome her. She has wounded one of her own and…”
“Come on,” he hissed, storming into the middle of the hall. Careless. Enraged. Kallian hurried after him, hearing the guards on duty exclaim in confusion as Hugh Ironhand barreled into their midst.
“You don’t even have a weapon!” Kallian shouted, fast on his heels.
“What are you – Hey!” The nearest guard, one Kallian hadn’t bribed or tricked, pulled the long sword from his side. “Fuck. Sound the alarm, Horace.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Hugh grunted, gaining. His fist, as big as a ham hock and hard as a stone, clipped the guard in the chin. He went down, but not before his friend leapt to his aid.
“Wait, Horace,” Kallian called. He turned, hesitating, his sword pointed toward them as he inched toward the door. It was enough. Blood poured from his nose, his brain would leak out soon after.
“That never gets any less creepy,” Hugh said under his breath, shuddering.
“Well maybe if somebody hadn’t charged headlong into two armed guards without so much as a toothpick to swing - ”
“Are you arguing with me, Tyr?” he asked, chuckling even as his voice dipped to that clipped, military register that she and all other guards of her generation knew so well. Hugh knelt, taking Horace’s dagger, sword and the shield still strapped to his back. He conspicuously avoided the stain growing on Horace’s tabard.
“Just making a point, sir.”
Hugh pushed on through the door, leading them under a portcullis and into a better-lit corridor. Windows high above them allowed in the bright daylight and the sounds of steel clashing against steel.
“How long do we have?” he asked. Kallian was forced to half-run, his far longer stride a challenge even for someone of her height.
“The prince and princess are out of danger,” Kallian replied, peeling part of her conscience off again to concentrate on the battle raging down in the valley. “But the warlock persists. We could ride to their defense - ”
“Always the optimist, Tyr.” Hugh didn’t lessen his pace or hesitate as a guard turned a corner directly into him. His sword point went in to the hilt and came out scarlet. “Do I know the girl?”
“Ava Black.” Kallian shook her head, dark hair flying about her shoulders as she stunned the man lying in wait for them at the next sharp turn. Hugh stepped over his sprawled body without acknowledging it. “Young. Brash. After your time. I would sift her for you, but the Enemy’s influence could spread.”
“Don’t risk it.”
“As you wish, sir.”
The claps of their boots echoed down the labyrinthine dungeon, announcing their presence and alerting the sentries that filtered down the hall toward them at irregular intervals. Kallian had a warning ready each time, sensing the urgent little life sparks that grew as they became aware of the escaping prisoner and his familiar escort. It hurt to betray men who had permitted her entrance to Hugh’s chamber, but those that had helped her most were gone, tipped off in advance to her intent.
“Sod it. We’ll never make Gilbright in time,” Hugh said, resting momentarily in the antechamber poised before the final stretch of tunnels. “He’s a tough old bastard.”
“True,” Kallian said, catching her breath. “He did seem capable if a bit… odd.”
Odd didn’t exactly encompass Kallian’s indifference or her disgust over the fact that a man could romance Hugh’s daughter and then try for his lieutenant. Sometimes she absolutely did not understand humans. She could always have a look through Gilbright’s thoughts but somehow that just wasn’t tempting at all.
“Odd how?”
“It’s not important.”
“I hope it isn’t.” Hugh rotated his shoulder, sighing as it creaked. “Because you’re joining up with them.”
“What?”
“I ask again,” Hugh began, forging onward. He was tired. Confinement had lessened his fluidity in battle. “Odd how?”
The guard presence thinned as they reached the hidden tunnel leading out of the dungeons. Whatever men had been stationed there were no doubt summoned to help fend off the riot at the palace.
“Just… rather forward.” It didn’t strike her as prudent to point out that Gilbright had, quite brazenly, propositioned her. Hugh had enough to worry about without adding a philandering almost-son-in-law to the list. Besides, human traditions still eluded her from time to time. Perhaps the warrior was only being friendly.
“Ah,” Hugh replied. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“As I said, it’s not important, sir.”
“I see. I’ll have a chat with him.”
“You won’t.” Kallian paused, canting her head to the side. A rush of relief, but short-lived – the Alduin Guards had safely taken possession of the prince and princess but the tainted warlock had escaped to fight another day. That would be problematic. “The warlock is fled. The others emerge unscathed.”
“I very much doubt that.”
Kallian frowned. “Scathed then, but alive.”
“Good,” Hugh grunted, pressing his shoulder to the door that stood between them and freedom. It was stuck, rusted. Kallian shoved alongside him. “I did not relish the thought of hiding a corpse.”
“Say nothing,” Kallian put in sharply. Without thinking, the tendrils of her power flickered out, testing the boundaries of his resolve.
“Enough of that,” Hugh hissed. The door squealed open. Kallian shaded her eyes, overcome by the sudden burst of sunlight.
“I can handle Gilbright, sir, and I can handle myself.” She hated having to state it. It ought to be obvious by now. “And I don’t need you to interfere on my behalf. It would change nothing and only make me a target for Gilbright’s displeasure.”
“Your confidence in my leadership is unstinting, Kallian.”
“That’s not what I meant…” She stepped out into the mild breeze, pinching the bridge of her nose, attempting to ward off a nasty headache. “We should find a safe place to wait out the riot.”
Hugh straightened, serious, following her to a cobbled path that led down a steep hill and wound around back, over a bridge and into the crush of the city. They walked in frosty silence, Kallian forcing her attention to the path ahead and any obstacles that might slow their progress.
They did not speak again until they reached the shadowed overhang of the safe house. All around them, voices rose, a thick mire of thoughts and feelings, oppressive to Kallian's senses. Sometimes it was all she could do to keep the thousands of conflicting minds from driving her mad. She forced down a mental block, cutting off the shouts and calls and laughter of strangers. Loud. Louder from the panic at the palace. Her brain pulsed, that headache from before returning with a vengeance. The safe house’s storefront was that of a butcher’s. The smell of pig’s blood and sweet rot seeped out through the crack beneath the door.
“You’ll keep me informed,” Hugh said. It was a command, not cold but firm.
“Of course, sir.”
She reached up, pained by the dark gray of his eyes boring into hers. The hair at his temples was slick with sweat. Her fingertips tingled, the connection strengthening as she waited, focused, let their mental bond fortify until it could last over great, unknowable distances. She hoped it would hold.
Hugh opened the door and they went in. At once, Hugh disappeared into a private study to write ahead to the marshals. He never said thank you. He didn’t have to.
