Dragon Rising

Chapter 5: The Castle of Albinastre

Delicious smells of roast meat and hearty soup reached Ryadni's nostrils. Outside, people might be starving and dying, but nothing prevented the rich from enjoying their lives. Other courtyards they briefly passed displayed proud banners displaying allegiances and neatly planted flowers lining perfectly aligned stone slab ground without any weeds peeking through. Pallas recalled the family's devotion to lavish displays of prosperity, with dinner being one of their pride and joy. The servants were so focused on ensuring the feast proceeded smoothly that Ryadni's team only had to evade the guards standing on every corner, even within the lower areas. It was obvious most of the guards were hired for brawn rather than for quality, from the vacant looks on their faces and distracted fidgeting.

Ryadni had raided many a privileged family, but she had never seen such a decorated place. The servants' back entrance opened to a side hall, dimly lit by flickering oil lamps overhead. Polished surfaces gleamed like eyes through the semi-darkness. The loose banners, curtains, statues, and multiple duplicates of carved tables and chairs made for easy hiding. Their soft shoes made no sound across the smooth marble floor. The place was warm and for once the chills in her fingers and toes from living underground for so long left her. They crept down the narrow corridor and exited into one of the larger rooms, which was evidently used for display.

Painting after painting hung on the walls, depicting rosy-cheeked women in beautiful dresses and haughty men in stiff military uniforms. Ryadni felt sick at the sight of their affluence. Millions out there starved from irregular seasons and harsh environments ravaging crops, worsened by the ever-increasing financial demands from the Draconian Families and warlords. Even touching the polished wooden door frames gave her a bitter taste in her mouth. The arrogant people in the pictures judged her with haughty looks. Even the air was stiflingly sweet.

Passing by several large, empty halls, the three Raiders froze as footsteps reached their ears. Without a word, Ryadni stepped behind one of the side doors, angling the opening so that her outline melted into the darkness. The other two disappeared without a sound.

A guard patrolled with an oil lamp in his hands. Shadows danced in his wake. Ryadni waited until he disappeared down another corridor before emitting a low whistle. The other Raiders re-joined her, quiet as smoke.

The dungeons would be an obvious place to put prisoners, with or without a side of torture. Whatever Hesprus's bloodline intended to do with Casten, she hoped it would be a while before they started.

More guards passed them on their rounds. These looked more alert and intelligent than the logs of wood Ryadni had seen earlier. They must be getting near.

For all their leader had stressed about – and the apparent renown of – Castle Rubanast's security, Ryadni couldn't help but feel disappointed at how easily they managed to sneak in. Nobody manned the courtyard. She supposed not many people would have the build or strength to sneak and hide as they had, not when it was such a dog-eat-dog world outside.

Patrols came in singles and she was pretty sure she could outrun them if they managed to spot her. Pallas made it sound like a challenge, but it was no different to the other residences she had done in the past, only these pigs were richer.

A draught danced by, making the flames flicker. Ryadni recognised the colourful, fringed tapestry of Hesprus's Draconian Family that hung at the end of the wide corridor. The walls on either side widened, opening up to a small hall that showcased the family in all their glory. The gilded cloth edges reflected the dim light. False smiles plastered across the faces of the brightly-dressed people in the centre.

Disgusting self-righteous bastards. So absorbed and blinded by their riches they wouldn't know hardship if their pathetic lives depended on it. What I wouldn't give to shove their gold up their—

A scream tore through the air, sending chills down her spine.

Her companions glanced at each other before looking at her. She swallowed and moved in the direction of the guttural sound. No more guards crossed their path until they'd descended spiral steps, where there were more tapestries than space. Rolls of coloured cloth piled high in several rooms they'd passed.

The three of them melted into the shadows again as more guards rounded the corner, this time as a pair. Two guards ambled by.

"...little one's useless. Doesn't know anything."

"The older one's going to crack soon, though. The interrogator's good at his job."

"Ha! I'd be spilling my guts too, after three broken fingers and all that beating!"

Ryadni's blood turned to ice. Her skin tingled all over as sheens of cold sweat broke out. She gritted her teeth as the two men guffawed and walked away. She longed to run up to them and punch them in the guts.

It was clear where Casten and Urseus were being held. Security was tighter: people – not just guards, but servants and messengers, too – would pass every two minutes or so, severely slowing their progress. The sadism and glee were almost palpable in the air. The guards chuckled with each other in idle conversation. All the while, Casten's screams ripped through the air, and none of them batted an eyelid. Ryadni's stomach tumbled over and over. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her shaking hands and nerves.

One of the Raiders touched her elbow. She hadn't realised she'd spent about five minutes frozen in her dark alcove. Her knees shook; she ignored it. There was enough light to see by. The lucrative decorations would soon have their uses, even if they were faded and their depictions worn to caricatures. It was obvious nobody of great importance would ever descend down to this level.

The cold air as they continued underground reminded Ryadni of Frone, but here it felt ominous and bloody. Many died here. She steeled her nerves. Casten needed her. The Resistance needed him. She couldn't feel shaken at this. Reaching out a trembling hand, she removed an oil lamp from its support. They are going to pay.

The three of them spread out, finding a spot, and waited.

It didn't take long before someone noticed the smell of smoke.

It started quietly. Then someone shouted, "Fire!" Cacophony exploded, mixed with servants' panicked screams. The fire devoured the old cloth piles and the tapestries lining the corridors, instantly bathing the area in an orange glow.

Hidden atop the shelves, Ryadni watched the occupants hustle around, eager to save their own skins. People bumped into each other, their frightened voices, punctuated by coughs, rising above the scuffling.

She met the watering eyes of her companions as smoke built up. They slipped down, blending into the crowd as they rushed to either flee or put out the growing fire. Head guards struggled to control the flock of slaves, servants, guards, and security moving in all directions, so much so that all Ryadni had to do was pass a hand slyly around his waist and unclip the ring of keys, before slipping down into the dungeon cells without being noticed.

Once she was out of the smoke and breathing clean air again, Ryadni took a look at the scene before her and almost threw up.