Arrin and Theodora were close, just a few minutes of running and they would be at the waste disposal grate of his brother Arris's bathhouse. The problem was that their pursuers were close, closer to the escapees than the duo were to their escape. The tunnel made it hard to gauge distances but they were near enough that he could make out some of what they said.
"Footprints… this way… before…. The Prince…" Pieces of the guard's conversation became clear within moments of having heard nothing but echoes and splashes. They were damn close. The tunnels had done a bit of winding, at most they had a few minutes more.
Perhaps there was time to make it out. It would be a risk to just continue on. Even if they escaped the tunnels, the guards would be right on their tails. It would make sense that the guards would have a tracker that would be able to follow them to Arris's. The reality of their predicament was becoming more clear to Arrin by the second.
There would be no less than four men but there could be as many as a dozen if they suspected that it was the princess herself. Impossible odds. He made his decision. Just ahead there was an intersection and close after that there were drains for the rain catches.
"Stay close," he whispered to Theodora. He didn't wait for a response, he turned and ran toward the intersection. Several minutes of all out running passed. His breathing started to become labored, his brow and armpits damp. The sound of her feet slapping the cold stones behind him was a relief, no argument this time.
They ran through the intersection, a four-way coalescence of main sewage channels in the business district. Just past it, there were the drains for the rain catches, short indentations in the wall. Upon reaching the last of them, less than forty feet past the intersection, he placed the torch in an indentation.
He grabbed the princess's wrist, she resisted for a second but did not struggle when he placed her hand on the wall.
He leaned into her ear and whispered, fighting against being winded he forced the words out as fast as he could reasonably string them together, "Keep your hand on this wall and follow it, do not take your hand from the wall. It will take you another few minutes down the main channel here and when it leads to the right, follow it. The second ladder you encounter will take you up to a grate that leads into an out-of-business cleaning shop. When you leave the shop, head out into the back alley, it isn't paved and your tracks will be hard to follow in the muck. Go down the alley, it will only be a few hundred feet until you find the 'Drenched Wench' bathhouse. Don't hold the name against my brother." Their faces were so close as he whispered into her ear he felt her cheeks swell with a smile, "Ask for Mary or Arris. Tell them that you're working with Arrin and that they need to hide you there. Tell them nothing of who you are. They will take care of you. I don't know how to get ahold of my contact, she always found me, hopefully, she will find you."
Arrin mentally started to set his ambush when she said something that he didn't expect.
"Us you mean." Theodora stepped back so they were face to face. "Hopefully she finds us." She stared up at him, actually at him, not through him. She looked into his eyes and he felt seen by her for the first time.
"Yes. Us. But, if I don't make it, do what you must to survive. Good luck, your majesty." He licked his lips and took a breath, waiting for her to turn and go.
The voices grew more distinct.
The torch shed a little light on them from its place in the indentation, not much but a flickering light that waxed and waned across their faces.
"I can help." The princess said. She looked as if she wanted to say more.
"You can help us all best by surviving. I do not know you well." His mind worked through the last few hours and he continued, "I don't really know you at all. What I do know is that you haven't betrayed a man that I pledged my loyalty to. I know that you are the rightful heir to the throne. Do not trust your brother, your father did not. If a faceless woman does not find you by tomorrow morning seek out any allies you think you have or flee this place."
"I see it, there's…. no shoes…. feet…. woman." The pursuers spoke without the worry of frightening off their quarry and their words grew clearer still.
She was so damn beautiful. Even as he was likely about to die her beauty struck at something deep within him. More than anything Arrin wanted to lean down and kiss her, what was the worst that could happen? He thought better of it, accosting her with an unsolicited kiss was a terrible idea. What if he lived and had to deal with those consequences? No way.
"Thank you, Arrin. I appreciate you more than you could know " Theodora said, still staring into his eyes.
The princess seemed about to say something more, she even opened her mouth for just a second. Whatever she wanted to say, she changed her mind as she turned, placed her right hand on the wall, and walked into the darkness.
The footsteps were within a turn or two of the intersection. They had to be.
The thief-taker shook his head, coming back down to earth. He didn't want to die. He could just hide and hope that they would never find her or, Gods forbid, him. He could try to distract them and lead them away. There were options other than fighting. Much safer options. But he had to end this pursuit if he were to give her the best chance at her survival. In the likely case that he died, hopefully, she would make it and be a good ruler. She would be good to people like the king had been good to Arrin. He hoped.
With the torch to draw their attention to the forward most rain drain, Arrin ran back toward the intersection, stopping to draw his sword and pull the dagger from where he'd jammed it into the scabbard. The blade was a beauty. Tight handle and well balanced and lighter than he'd thought. The horrid sheath seemed to be the weightier of the pair even though it was mostly just leather.
He turned his back to the wall and stuffed himself into one of the narrow cavities that the rain was funneled in through. It was a tight fit and not the best of hiding places but with their eyes glued on that torch beyond him, he was hidden well enough.
He held the sword in his right hand and his dagger in his left. Crossing his arms in front of him he put his right hand against his chest and his left over the top of that. The point of the sword scraped the roof of the tunnel and he held the dagger like an icepick, its point biting into his own forearm.
Moments later the sounds of the approaching men came to a halt. They must have seen the torch and were devising a plan. Their pause tickled Arrin, what plan they might come up with that wasn't 'run down the channel and kill the people holding the torch'?
He held his breath, listening for them, thinking of how the fight might play out. He had no idea how many would be making their way down the tunnel. Surprise was all he had.
Bursting out of a small shape back to himself could be disorienting so when facing multiple enemies, he had learned that it was best to start out as fully himself and to assume a different shape during the fight. The shock of his transformation was good enough for an opening or two. It even sent some men running, not that he ever let them get away.
With the odds, he was facing it seemed laughable that he wouldn't have to assume the flying bug's little shape to gain an advantage. He decided that he would shapeshift during the fight. A second change in such a short amount of time would be draining, if he didn't pass out it would be a blessing.
If Eggart was the tracker he had to be put down. No man Arrin had ever known could find people like Eggs. He had to kill the tracker, that was the most important, without a tracker she stood a much better chance of getting away.
The sound of men sprinting down the channel, along the walkways, and in the wastewater filled his ears. Any second now. The passage couldn't have been more than six feet wide, he would have killed for a short sword in this space.
Light began to fill the space in front of Arrin. One man passed less than a foot from his face carrying a torch, then a second, then a third. The fourth was a man he recognized, Sergeant Avril, a mean sonofabitch that cheated at cards whenever he could. Arrin tensed, he would attack the next man that passed in front of him and then make his way back to the tracker.
A fifth figure appeared in front of him and Arrin sprung from his hiding place. Wielding his needle dagger in what Pallum had called reverse grip he plunged it into the base of the man's skull and he fell without a sound.
Close behind him was another man and Arrin was already swinging his sword wide, the man was frightened by the sudden appearance of the thief-taker and made no move to defend himself as Arrin swung the sword backhand. The blade bit deep into his face, hitting him just below the ear. The momentum and strength of its wielder shattered the man's jaw and sunk the blade into his face until it looked as if it was coming from his mouth. The man dropped his sword and flailed as he fought and fell away from Arrin.
Arrin advanced on the next man, trusting that the four now behind him were continuing on to the torch.
There were three more men in front of him, the man about ten feet away to his left held a torch, a man about eight feet away stood with a short sword drawn and ready. The one farther back than the others, stood fixed in place holding just a torch.
The closest two shook off the surprise and spread out as far as the tunnel would allow and moved cautiously towards Arrin. The thief-taker held his sword out in front of him, its long blade demanding respect and distance.
"Oy!" One of the men called out, trying to get the attention of Avril and the others. Arrin knew he had to move fast. Fighting in tight spaces was a fight most often won by the combatant with patience but time was not on his side. Get to the tracker and then run or find a defendable space.
With a practiced motion, he rotated the dagger with a flick of the wrist from a reverse grip to a throwing grip and with another flick that had become second nature to him he flung the needle at the man that had called out to his fellows.
The man flinched at the motion, an experienced fighter having some idea of what was coming his way. He leaned away, ducking his head and bringing his sword in front of his face. The dagger struck home in his upper thigh and the man screeched, his leg going stiff as his free hand shot to his groin.
Ignoring the wounded man for now Arrin darted forward with two lunging steps holding his long sword as if it were a fencer's weapon and made as if he were going to stab the uninjured man in the stomach. The man tried to leap backward and parry but his feet caught on the uneven stones, he lost his balance while swinging his short blade trying to push the longer sword out into open space. Quicker than a normal man and now with a tremendous advantage Arrin dropped the tip of his sword, the shorter sword swung harmlessly outward, and before the man could recover Arrin had brought his sword back up, quick as lightning, and jammed it into where his jaw and throat connected. The man gurgled and blinked but Arrin saw no more of him, his eyes were fixed on the tracker. It was Eggart and the man was as much the court's biggest coward as he was its best tracker. He was frozen in place with his blazing torch shaking in his hand.
Arrin moved forward with determination, he might just pull this off. He began his run toward Eggs. After he killed the tracker he would lead them away. His mind was already narrowing down the best place for a stand when he was jerked off to the left, breath being squeezed out of him, almost toppling him over, something and sinched around his waist and held him firm.
In the few seconds of fighting the loosely tied scabbard had worked its way around his back like a tail and the man with a dagger buried in his thigh had grabbed it as Arrin tried to run past. The thief-taker wheeled around and the man released the sheath but it did not save his life.
With his ass firmly planted on the ground, the man held his hands up in a panicked attempt at self-defense. Arrin chopped downward in much the same fashion that Boris just earlier in the day had tried to end him. This man did not turn into mist. The steel met the flesh of his neck and didn't stop until it met the bone.
While he'd died for it, the man had not died in vain. Avril charged into Arrin and blasted him off his feet. As he flew backward Arrin formed the image of the flying insect in his mind. He focused on the bug. He focused on the shape. He smashed his head on the stone floor.
His vision blossomed bright and dark at the same time. His thoughts swam, he told his arm to bring the sword to bear on Avril and skewer the man as he descended on the prone thief-taker. His arm did not listen and Avril dropped his full weight on Arrin's chest and punched him in the face. His head bounced off of the stones and the world went dark.
He woke up nauseous and choking. Avril was smearing the sewage in his face, scream at him. Concussed and confused Arrin could make no sense of what was being shouted at him. He blinked and spat. Avril grasped his jaw, squeezing his cheeks together.
"Come on back now you little shit. Where is she? You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. Tell me now and we won't kill you!" The big man pinned the thief-taker's arms down with his knees and loomed over him, filling his vision.
The sergeant was sweating and he stank of something even worse than sewage. Nausea overcoming him, Arrin began to puke.
Avril clamped his hand over his preys mouth and pinched shut his nose. Arrin began to choke on his puke and in response puked more making his situation worse.
"Tell me where she is and I'll let go!" Avril shouted down into the young man's face.
Trying his best to nod his agreement to do so, Arrin was unsure if he was doing anything other than flopping his head about. Whatever it looked like to Avril it was good enough for him, he released Arrin's mouth and nose, and the flow of vomit continued unblocked for much longer than Arrin would ever admit.
"Now, where is she?" Arrin formed the image of the flying insect in his mind.
"And nothing tricky now ya hear?" He focused on the bug.
"Answer me now or I'm gonna do ya in an' Eggy'll lead us to her anyways." He focused on the shape.
"Nothing, eh? Have it your way." Avril pulled his fist back.
His fist descended down and the body of Arrin puffed into black mist and Avril's fist smashed into the shallow sewer water and the stones beneath it. His surprise at the thief-taker's sudden disappearance and the pain of his broken hand hit him all at once.
Even severely concussed and thoroughly disoriented Arrin in the form of that small flying bug knew his goal. He considered flying into the screaming mouth of Avril but that would serve only to make him happy but would not help Theodora. He flew back towards Eggart. Avril screaming in the muck behind him, the other three men looking into the darkness, waving their torches hoping that they wouldn't be turned to mist next.
Eggart had moved to join the group when it appeared that they had won the day. He was just a few feet away from where the ill-tempered sergeant had been about to beat the unlucky thief-taker to death.
Like an arrow, Arrin found his target, flying directly into Eggart's mouth, and the image of Arrin himself popped into his own mind. He focused on it. He felt his skin expand, he felt his insides boil. He reverted back to his own shape and the head of Eggart lost its shape.
Arrin fell backward, he was still dizzy and disoriented. He splashed into the shallow channel muck on his back and scrambled to his feet.
He had no weapons on him and in his blurry vision, one of the men advanced on him, fists curled low in a fighter's stance.
The man swung low with a left, punching into Arrin's side where his boiled leather breastplate offered the least protection. The former thief let the punch land, swinging over the top of it and hitting the man in the face. The man stumbled back into Avril who had gotten to his feet. That was when Arrin saw it. The man hadn't punched him, in his hand, glinting in the torchlight he held a bloody knife. Arrin reached to his side and felt it slick with blood.
This is it. This is the end. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was harder to breathe. Or was it? What had been hit?
Arrin took a fumbling step sideways and dropped to a knee. Trying to stop the bleeding with one hand he searched for a weapon. There was nothing near him, the body of Eggart at his feet had no weapon. He looked up in time to see the pommel of a sword descend on him. The world went black.
He blinked. There was warm blood in his eyes. He tried to blink it away. How long had he been out? In front of him, he could see three men facing away from him, they were looking at something. A huge man was making his way toward them.
"Heh, you're fucked now boyo," Avril said. Arrin searched for the voice. He found Avril standing by his feet looking down the sewage tunnel at the man approaching them.
"Oy, boss!" Avril waved a hand at the figure then looked down to Arrin and smiled. He cocked back his leg and kicked the thief-taker in the face.