Korah: Heir of Gnamalea

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    MARCUS

    The tiny bone was a fit in the padlock, but it was a matter of picking the lock. The prisoner, opposite Marcus, watched as he tried to stick the bone into the right angle. Marcus needed to be quick before the next guard came to survey the cellblock. His ear close to the metal, listening for the click, indicating its release. The prisoner's eyes still fixed on him uncomfortably.

    "Instead of just watching me, could you keep a lookout instead?" the man nodded and looked towards the stoned doorway, watching and listening for anyone approaching.

    Continuing to pick at the lock, he came to a spot that seemed promising. It just needed an angle up and – click. The latch clicked open, releasing the door from its clasp. Marcus gave a proud scoff, the metal gate slowly squeaking into its swing.

    "Shut the door, quick", the prisoner said harshly, as footprints echoed in the entrance stairs. Marcus quickly shut the door and put the latch back into place, giving the cell's impression was still locked. The guard walked in heavy-footed. His boots echoed through the cellblock, intentionally making his presence known. It was the Captain which Korah had fought in Phorys. Captain Alejandro, he briefly remembered. Marcus stood at the bars, his face level with the Captain's, eye-to-eye.

    "I can't say it wasn't brave of you to try and kill him on your own. I don't think I would have the balls," he chuckled, baring his ugly, decayed teeth. The years have been rough on him, Marcus could tell. "but I certainly wouldn't be that stupid". He was mocking Marcus with his cocky smirk on the other side of the cell.

    He didn't leave the Captain's eye contact. Marcus smirked and thought before opening his mouth. "At least I have the balls to stand up to my superiors." His face hardened, closing the gap even further.

    His nose was touching the steel bars and his eyes still staring directly into Marcus'. "I can't wait to slit that cowardly neck of yours. As you try to hold it high above my own, I get to kill you with a smile on my face", the Captain walked off, marching out the door and down the stairs and leaving a dispersed echo of his boots.

His words were sharp and sent a warning to Marcus, but at least he had a head start, a way out. The lock remained on the latch, unlocked.    

    Once it went quiet, Marcus unlatched his cell and opened it wide enough to walk himself out. He knelt at his befriended prisoners cell. He stuck the bone and began shifting the lock.

    "What did you do to that guy for him to hate you so much," the blonde prisoner asked.

    "Theivery, but for a good reason", Marcus said blatantly. "What about you?" Marcus was intrigued to know what he could have done to serve so long in the dungeon.

    "Simply living a humble life with my sister. That's not acceptable here; it seems" Marcus nodded, understanding what the man meant. That's all he wanted for his family, and instead, they took his father from him.

Marcus unlocked the cell with ease this time, helping the prisoner up from the floor, steadying him on his feet.

    "Well, since I'm saving your life and all, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Marcus." He extended his hand out to shake. The man did the same, taking hold of his palm in greeting.

    "William".

                            KORAH

Korah watched the guards standstill, like statues. She almost forgot they were human. For a while, the hallway was quiet, no one spoke, and the two girls didn't move a muscle. Korah looked up to the tall windows on the opposite side of the hallway; the sun was her clock. The time was close; they would have to bring him out any minute now. As those thoughts came to mind, a commotion brought the guard's attention to the entrance of the dungeon. Shouting echoed through the large doorway, and the guards disappeared behind the dark stone. Something was happening, and they need to find them quickly, or Marcus' execution could come a lot quicker than planned. Korah ran out from behind the large pillar, Azula in tow. With her sword and Marcus' sword in each hand, they followed the guards into the stoned entrance of spiralled stairs. Her bow in her hands and arrow pouch strapped to her back, Azula and Korah followed the voices through the maze of staircases. The voices were confusing their choice of path. Either they get quieter, or they get louder. Eventually, they reached a dark hallway; no window was open to shine any light, only a large hole in the ceiling. This part of the dungeon must be old; it looked like it would crumble under their feet. It was silent, with determined voices left behind them now. They had gone the wrong way.