The Final Storm

20. Rescuing another Damsel?

Thanks to her previous attempt at crossdressing, Adaira was already very experienced with the mysterious artefact known as "trousers". It didn't take long before a brave rebel soldier marched out of the alley. And if his uniform seemed a little bit too big for him, nobody noticed.

The valiant rebel made his way towards a nearby street stall, picked up some spicy dishes contributed by the patriotic vendor and strode towards the fort. As soon as he came within hearing range, he waved to the gate guard.

"Good day, my comrade in arms! I've been ordered to bring some meals to you and your fellow guards. Also some dry bread for the prisoners."

"You have?" The guard frowned. "Strange. The prisoner's meals were to be distributed in the evening."

"Really? Who's your commander?"

"The commander of the Red Fort, Lieutenant Gupta, naturally."

"There you go, then. I came with the rebels from outside the city. I guess our commanders are still figuring out who's in charge, eh?" The brave rebel lifted the lid from the platter he was carrying, and a deliciously tempting aroma rose into the air. "So, who do you think should be in charge?"

The guard's eyes zeroed in on the platter, and swallowed to keep his drool from escaping. "Your commander. Definitely."

"So glad you agree. Here you go." Handing the guard one of the many bowls on his platter, the valiant rebel smiled and nodded towards the fort's gate. "Would you mind? I don't exactly have any hands free."

"Hm...what? Oh, right, of course. Go ahead." Unlocking the gate, the guard pulled it open far enough to allow the other man to slip inside, then quickly re-focused on his meal. So quickly, in fact, that he failed to notice the flash of triumph in the eyes of the "man".

Soon, the brave rebel was making his way through the corridors of the Red Fort, greeted warmly wherever he went. People rarely object to receiving free food, after all, and this doubly applies to soldiers in the middle of a war. As for the prisoners? Who cares about them? The guards laughed when they saw the dry bits of bread meant for their captives, although some were kind enough to moisturise the dry food a little. However, taking into account that they did this with their spit, "kind" probably wasn't the right word.

Finally, the brave rebel, with only a little food left in his hands, arrived in front of the dungeons.

"Food for the prisoners," he grunted.

Wordlessly, the guard at the door to the dungeon moved aside. It might have had something to do with the fragrant, steaming bowl he had just been handed.

Advancing down into the dark, the helpful delivery man moved to the first cell door. Yet here it was that his behaviour began to differ from that of an upright revolutionary. Instead of delivering the dry bread to the various prisoners, for some reason, he stopped at every cell door, lifted the lamp he had brought and shone it into the cell.

"Go to hell, scum!"

Something smelly and indescribable flew through the bars of the door. Quickly, the rebel ducked out of the way.

"Shh! Be quiet!"

"You bloody traitor! Why would I—"

In answer, the "bloody traitor" pulled on the beard on his chin, and it came off.

"What the—?!" The jaw of the man in the cell dropped directly.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you! I'm not one of those rebels!"

"Are...are you here to rescue us?"

Well...if your surname is Carter.

That thought flashed through Adaira's mind for an instant as she stared down at the dirty, hoarse-voiced prisoner. Yet, for some reason, she didn't think saying it aloud would be appreciated.