C A S C A

Chapter 5

A week of planning and scheming goes by too quickly since the swordsman's capture. I realize that even a week in the castle's dungeon could already mean he's dead but if I hadn't taken the time to plan my breach, we'd both end up dead.

"Okay Casca," she nudges me as I call her name. I stand up from the warming fire and toss my week's worth of work into the flame, watching the paper curl up and turn to ash. I climb onto Casca's back after I stomp out the fire and pull my black hood over my head, blending into the night sky. "Let's go," I say and Casca doesn't waste any time before galloping towards our destination: The Midland Castle.

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My calculations were right, traveling north to get to the castle would only take a short 30 minutes. In plain eyesight are the enormous castle gates where two knights stand guard but before I sneak in, I stop by a neighboring stableman that I've gotten to know the past week. I knock heavily on the wooden doors of the average sized home and I hear footsteps hurry to open it.

"Casca!" The old man greets me. I smile and nod.

"I'm hoping you can take care of my horse for an hour or two, Frieman."

His grin is hidden by his unkempt beard, "of course. She can stay as long as you need her to."

"Thank you," I quickly say. "I'll be leaving now. I owe you one."

"Wait, Casca," I stop and turn back around to face Frieman once again. "Are...are you going to do something dangerous?" I pause and I can see worry has casted itself in his eyes.

"No, Frieman," I lie. "I just have some business to attend to." He doesn't say anything and he almost seems hesitant, as if thinking of a way to stop me from going.

"Be careful Casca. Don't do anything stupid," he chuckles, clearly giving up on his past thoughts. I snort and lift my hood over my head. He's a good man and the only friend I've made in 13 years. Well not including the black swordsman. Wait. Is the black swordsman my friend?

I wave Frieman goodbye and walk down the cobblestone path until I approach the outermost wall of the castle. I run my hands over the brick walls, gripping onto the closest groove I find, and climbing up. This isn't my first time doing such a thing, so it only takes me a few minutes before I reach the top and jump about 15 feet down, landing on the tip of my toes and silently rolling down.

I'm in the castle's front yard now and it seems that no guards are patrolling it. I reach into my boots and pull out the folded map of the castle that I bought off some merchant a week ago. I'm able to make out the thin black lines in the darkness of the night and quickly refresh my memory of the path I'm going to take: I'm going to climb into kitchen window and walk out to the castle's halls where I'm going to have to make a right, left, then another right before I approach the door that should have a staircase to the underground behind it. It's only when I get to that part when it gets tricky. I have no idea which cell the black swordsman is behind and it might take me hours to figure out.

I huff and slide the map back in my boot and run across the large lawn to what should be the kitchen window. The lights are off, as expected. I climb up to it and give it a hard pull to get it open. I slide in, and thankfully, my feet dangle in the air before quickly finding the countertop. Once I lower myself onto the ground, I look around the kitchen to make sure the coast is clear. And it is. It's almost odd how silent and empty the castle has been so far. I don't question it any further and follow the path I've memorized. A right, left, then right.

As expected, I find the door which leads to a spiraling downward staircase. Torches attached to the wall give an orange hue to the narrow path as I take each step gingerly. Am I stupid for doing this? Maybe. But I owe him.

I get to the last step and ahead of me is a long path with bulky wooden doors about 2 feet apart. It's silent and as I near the doors, I notice that there's a small gated hole in each door, giving me a peek to the inside. A horrid stench hits my nose when I look into the first door and I try not to gag. Still, I look inside and I see a limp man attached to the cold brick wall behind him by long shackles. Both his wrists and ankles are locked. I can't see much else other than his skinny naked figure.

Not the swordsman.

Quickly I rush to the next door and when I don't find him, I move to the one after.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I finally reach the last cell of the long dungeon and frustratingly there is no Black Swordsman in sight. Did they perhaps lie about bringing him here? I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth in frustration and shake my head, but why would they do that?

"Is someone out there?"

I jump from the sudden raspy voice of a man. It's coming from one of the cells.

Silently, I tread to the cell of the conscious man and hesitatingly peek into the window. Unlike just a moment ago, his head isn't hung and instead he's staring straight at me. I quickly fall back away from the window and mentally curse at myself. Perhaps he didn't see me through the darkness?

"I saw you," he chokes, immediately falsifying my thoughts. "You're not the torturer... are you here to rescue someone?"

I don't answer even though his words intrigued me. Torturer?

"Will you not answer me? Don't do that... " After a long silent pause he speaks again, sounding angrier, "if you don't answer right now I'll scream!"

Bastard! Would anyone even hear him this deep underground? Well, I can't take any chances. "What is it you want?" I ask quietly.

I hear him sigh in...relief? "Just to talk. It's been awhile since I've heard another human's voice."

I narrow my eyes at his choice of words. "You mentioned a torturer earlier..."

"Yes, he comes in here daily. I assume given his title, you know what he does. " he says. "Can you move back to the window? I want to see you."

Hesitatingly I move back to the window, immediately spotting two white orbs from the shadow of his figure. His eyes burn a hole into me and I try not to be repulsed. "Is he not human?"

He lingers in his response, "no. He's not."

"Then what is he?"

"An ogre."

The breath I didn't know I was holding leaves me in a sigh and I roll my eyes. All this talk about demons and whatnot has got me asking ridiculous questions. And no doubt receiving answers that don't fall short. "I am looking for someone," I say, urgent to get back to the main point here.

"I know."

"How do you know?" I ask him, confused.

"Because a new prisoner just arrived," he mutters.

"So he did arrive..." I say mostly to myself. I then remember what he just said and furrow my eyebrows, "I still don't understand how you knew."

He coughs, a dry and painful sound. "Someone always comes when a new prisoner arrives. How else do you think I got in here?"

And then it hits me.

The reason there are no guards and why the castle is so silent is because they knew I was coming. In fact, they know where I am right now.