Story of Kings

Chapter 4

Kane awoke on a stone table, iron chains securing his hands and feet. The air was cold and damp, water dripping onto the floor sounded out again and again accompanied by such a foul stench that Kane could only assume he was in the sewers. Lifting his head Kane glanced down at the manacles secured around his wrist, a few links of chain attaching it to the table beneath him. The metal was old, rust coated it along with the faint and old stain of blood. Too old, by his estimate the stains were from centuries ago, judging by that and the lack of the scent of fear Kane guessed that torture wasn't in store for him. No, this seemed urgent. They secured him not because they wanted to, but because they felt like they needed to.

Laying fully back down and calculating an estimate for how strong the iron chains would be, Kane decided that a normal man his size would stand a good chance at snapping the rusted metal. Straining his arms up while using his elbows as a leverage point against the table, the iron chains that secured his hands down bent and snapped with ease, freeing him. Mostly. Kane sat up fully, no longer restricted by the chains on his arms and began inspecting the chains securing his feet.

He was still figuring out the best way to break them when a voice sounded at the door. "Knew those chains wouldn't hold you, annoying that you broke them, but you just won me ten silvers," a female voice said. Kane glanced at the door, mildly impressed that the women had been able to approach without him hearing it. He could forgive himself for not scenting her with how foul and overpowering the sewers were.

The woman wore simple, black trousers with matching riding boots. Her shirt, tight around her waist, was a bland grey and while it was laced up at her collar unlike most it did nothing to disguise her bust. She also held a black jacket in her hand, draping it over her shoulder with her long, offsetting, golden hair spilling over the other to really complete her rebel look. Her natural beauty seemed out of place in the dark sewers, an oil lantern in her hand as well as a torch mounted by the door in the room. "You might want to watch out," Kane said, his voice rasping out over his dry mouth. "An Enforcer sees you dressed like that, and they'll peg you as a part of the black market right away."

"If they see me," she answered back with a smirk. "Black markets in other cities end up getting caught because members walk around the city like a normal citizen and end up getting questioned by an angel, much like you did. Speaking of which, I've heard a lot of interesting things about that. Mind sharing?"

"Nothing to share," Kane said, his voice flat as he kept eye contact.

The woman nodded. "I suppose there isn't, since I already know all about it. But let's see if I got this straight," she said as she sat down on a lone barstool before the table, her eyes, an emerald green, level with Kane's. "You hauled an Archangel off its feet, hit it square in the face and broke its nose, smashed its head so hard against the ground you cracked the stone, then curb-stomped its ankle to shatter it and got away as clean as could without it being able to track your scent. Oh, and that's after consuming more nightshade than any normal person should be able to withstand. Sound about right?"

Kane blinked once at her. "Nightshade," he said, more to himself than to her. Kane supposed he could dismiss his blunder, even if it was disappointing.

"Yeah, you should have passed out within seconds after your first sip," she said, putting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward. "Instead, you chugged a quarter of the bottle and strode on out of our bar like it was nothing, then successfully blitzed an Archangel. I think that deserves an explanation."

Kicking his leg back and forth to rattle the chain Kane arched his brow. "What about these?" The woman only arched her brow back at him to which Kane gave a sigh. "I would have thought that you would want to keep your chains, rather than have them broken," he said, raising a hand to indicate the chain he had snapped.