Days of the Dead Book 1: The Thief's End

Chapter 10: Oh yeah, we're still in a cave

Kit
I stagger, but don't fall down this time. Which is very typical, because nobody sees me do it. No, everyone in the cave is wholly preoccupied with their current tomfoolery. Rob is standing on top of a barrel, addressing everyone else.
"Listen up whores, this is a message I'm reading from your king—well that was faster than I expected—," Rob mutters, as two men tug him off the barrel. Sam snatches the paper from his hand, Ocenon (who is a King I guess? That was not made clear but like Gideon sort of implied that?), anyway, he applauds lightly and looks a bit tired.
"All right. Your noble leader has a message to ask of you and I'm delivering it because I can read and stay on topic. The message is this," Sam says, unfolding the paper, "Ahem. 'So, we agree that we'd all rather die slowly in here than let Philip win, right?'."
The men mutter their assent as follows:
"Yeah definitely."
"Absolutely."
"Of course."
"You can eat me before we let him win."
"Me too."
"Obviously."
"Death first."
Ocenon shrugs a little bit, leaning against a pillar, his eyes rove the crowd of men. It's Rob, however, who spots me first.
"Kit, that didn't take long, are you all right?"
"Pretty damn," I say, grinning. My voice is lower than I imagined though some of that may be hoarseness from lack of use. I smile none the less, not having anticipated how good it would feel to use my voice to speak to my friends.
"When did this happen?" Rob laughs, coming over to clap me on the back
"I thought he didn't speak?" Sam asks.
"He didn't," Tom says.
"Yeah, he did," Lionel says.
"He didn't," Ocenon sighs.
"Are you well again?" Rob asks, tugging my hair to look in my face.
"Temporarily, long story I don't actually understand short, I'm not feeling the symptoms, I'm still cursed. To break it I need to know how I got cursed, can someone read that thing for me? If I'm back at full strength maybe I can get us out of here," I sigh.
Ocenon nods, beckoning me over.
"Don't read it aloud," Rob cautions.
Ocenon throws him a look, then holds out a hand for pen and paper. He's apparently the only one who can read Latin or whatever it is. He painstakingly copies down the words, pausing now and then to properly translate.
Here in lies the beggar
Deep within the beggars tomb
A noble curse is laid
Here the thief shall meet his end
And the cycle begins again
"I was expecting it to rhyme," I say.
"Better in Latin," Ocenon grunts, rubbing his face. He has soft thick cheeks, which make him look younger than I expect he is. Youth aside he's clearly the leader of the party. Even now the men are quiet and look to him. I feel like Gideon said he was someone important but it's been a long night. I forget.
"Cycle—this isn't saying a way to break it," I frown, "Or why. It's calling it noble—it's not noble to kill someone."
Ocenon shrugs a little.
"What do you think?" I ask, showing it to Rob.
"I think, Kit, that means it can't be broken," Rob says, softly.
Ocenon nods, I see tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry," he says, softly, voice nearly stumbling on the syllables.
"Okay," I say, quietly, folding up the piece of paper. Three days they said? "The cycle begins again. Another curse. Another thief. I'm done for."
"Do you have a mother to write to?" Rob asks, squeezing my shoulder.
"No," not here. "Let's just get you out of here, then. No good if we all die, is it? We still have to get the treasure before that bald prick."
The men laugh and Ocenon nearly cracks a smile.
"We're waiting for—for dark. We can overwhelm the guards," Ocenon says.
"Okay," I nod, "I'll help you. Six. Maybe seven hours?"
"Something of that kind, yes," Rob says.
"Easy, I won't be ill for a couple more days," I say, nodding, "I need to go now, but I'll be back. We'll get out."
Ocenon nods, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it.
"I'll be back, I promise," I say, hand going to my bracelet. I've been away from home too long. Time to go check in with my mother and say my goodbyes. If I'm going to die I'll be damned if go down any way but fighting.