The Knight and the Peasant [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 21

"I have a plan," Salvador said as he burst into Gerard's room. The man was just about to take off his pants.

Gerard shouted "By the Angel King!" in utter surprise. "Knock much?"

Salvador shrugged.

"The door was locked!"

"I picked it."

Gerard stared at him and then threw his hands in defeat. "Whatever. What is it, Salvador?"

"I have a plan to get the Barbarudi to support us."

"Well, what is it?"

Salvador falters. His plan is not one that he believes Gerard will enjoy, however, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Gerard raised an eyebrow. "Is it stupid?"

Salvador licked his lips which he found were surprisingly dry. "Maybe. And not honorable. Not at all."

Somehow, Gerard seemed to understand. "Do you need my help?"

"No. . . not really."

The Freelancer Knight nodded. "Don't tell me. Do it, whatever your plan is. If you believe it will convince the Barbarudi, then carry out your plan. We are out of options here, Salvador. We need success."

Salvador nods firmly. "I won't fail."

Gerard gives a wan smile. "I know you won't."

Salvador left the room and navigated his way around the castle until he made his way down to the dungeons. The dungeon guards crossed their spears, blocking Salvador's way. Of course, Salvador still has Gerard's Aes Sídhe longsword and his hand itches to draw the blade. However, he remains steady and looks the guard dead in the eye. "I wish to see the Réaltimarine spy."

"On whose authority?" one of the guards bark.

"The duke said I could. Please, let me see this man. I have seen death and suffering to a degree that you cannot encompass nor imagine. I have seen his kind slaughter women and children without a blink. The blood that lined the stones of Grenaserrat City was not that of soldiers and highborns, but of the commoners and middlemen like you and me. Please, let me see this man. . . let me give him retribution."

The guards seemed to waver. Their resolve slowly began to crumble. Salvador stepped towards the one that had spoken and said, "Do you know what it's like? To have this anger eat you up from the inside out? If I don't let it out somehow, it will corrupt me. But here, I have someone I can take it out on: the Réaltimarine. But nonetheless, the duke himself gave me permission!"

Salvador thought he did well. But then the guards' faces seemed to harden. He had made a mistake.

"I'm afraid we are not allowed to permit strangers without a seal or a trusted Barbarudi person into the dungeons."

Blast it!

"What is all the fuss?" came a frail voice down the hall. It belonged to an old man perhaps in his sixties who dressed in a black robe and held the dungeon keys at his side. The Dungeon Keeper.

The guards quickly saluted. "This young man wishes to enter the dungeons, Master."

"Is that so? On whose permission do you have to enter the dungeon?"

"He claims the duke himself has given him permission."

"Oh? Why, let's call him down here then."

Salvador kept a calm demeanor, but on the inside, his heart was racing. Oh come on.

The Dungeon Keeper grabbed a passing servant and sent him to deliver the message. And so they waited, and waited, and waited. The guards stared at Salvador suspiciously while the Dungeon Keeper had a smirk on his wrinkled face.