Chereads / The Last Bastion, Will's Chosen / Chapter 3 - chapter 3: The Night Raid

Chapter 3 - chapter 3: The Night Raid

"Haaaa..." A collective sigh of relief and pure exhaustion was simultaneously released from the four. 'That was way too close' another shared sentiment as Arthur voiced this to himself.

The whole meeting had been a truly hard stopping experience as the drunken Inquisitor had started to regain some of his senses towards the end and questioning them about all the holes, of which there were many, on their fabricated story.

Arthur remained the worst off in that small interaction, as the reserves of power he had been saving for weeks, using the bare minimum of his power only when truly necessary.

This was all so that he could spare it for this job only for it to nearly not be enough! This had truly stumped him as he had never dealt with anyone who hadn't needed more than a nudge in the right direction before, and this guy had been red faced drunk!

Shivers still raced across Arthurs body as hot and cold flushes sapped at any and all remaining strength he had left.

He felt his body sag, as simply the act of lifting a foot to take a step was a mammoth task he roughly managed only to quickly have to take the next, lest he fall face first onto the floor of the Inquisitor HQ's reception.

The Beady eyed desk clerk, watching ever foot fall they took as they sauntered towards the door with ecstatic smiles, all except Arthur who's face was ashen grey and lips turning blue.

None of his body's ailments stopped him as he made his way back to his gangs base of operations in his boss' leisurely pace. The last thing he needed was a beating on top of this because he rushed ahead of the boss.

Finally making their way back to the pub, they were met with loud cheers as the boss explained how easily he managed to secure the money.

After a few drinks, the boss' idea as he celebrated his lucky charm working yet again, Arthur sneaked off back to his room as the bawdy laughter and cheers of the rest of the gang celebrated rung out from the other side of his door.

Arthur wouldn't have minded staying as he was getting free drinks, and even managed to poach some bread from the nearly empty kitchens, but his head had come to the point where it had felt as if someone had taken one of those noble's fancy swords and lodged it firmly between his brows.

So, with the hope of sleeping it off like a bad hang over, Arthur made himself ready for bed and threw himself under the poor excuse for covers they had.

However, many hours of trying and failing to sleep, with his body as it was and the pub as it was, Arthur eventually gave up on the fruitless endeavour and instead tried to soothe his headache with long drawn out breathes.

He slowly let go of all the countless thought crisscrossing along his brain's nerves. This seemed to have some affect as his aching head seemed to clam slightly after every exhale and his heart beat thumped less loudly with each inhale.

And, as the sounds from behind his door drew quieter, Arthur felt his eyes flutter as the heavy lids slowly closed.

BANG!

But that small moment of respite was all lost, as a loud bang was heard resounding behind his door. Arthur quickly perked up as his aching and tired body seemed to find some hidden energy. He could hear heavy thuds as the sound of many feet scraped across the floor.

Arthur, still reeling from the explosion, tried to understand and perceive the sounds over the loud ringing in his ears.

Then he started to hear it, the sounds of squelching thumps Arthur had heard all so often from his own beatings and when the gang had to take care of someone.

His mind steeled itself as he raced for his new clothing and fumbled to get it over himself.

Hurrying over to the shutter on his open window, the pub wasn't rich enough for glass, Arthur opened the latch and shoved hard at the shutters to push it out and open.

For the first time Arthur could remember he was happy he was on the ground floor as it made this escape all the more possible.

He also thought that his headache and proximity to the bar was truly lucky as well. Chuckling darkly to himself as he thought that, Arthur made his way down the small, dark alley.

Maybe the boss was right, he was damn lucky! Mind racing a mile a dozen as he tried to think everything through, Arthur came to the old abandoned warehouse.

The warehouse's location was relatively close to the pub and was in a bad part of the already bard part of the capital. He thought the day over, trying and trying to piece it all together. Why had the gang been raided?

And why now of all times? Its not like they had been quiet recently but they were doing less jobs as to make it so there was less heat on them for this job. 'The job!' That was it, that was the thing that caused all this.

That Inquisitor must have sobered up after their talk and realised the problem we were. Damn! He had talked about that noble as if was old friends. He must have rang him and found the truth out. 'He I knew that plan was dumb.' Arthur sadly chastised himself.

His greed had won out and he had gone along with two idiots plan. He was just truly lucky he got out alive to realise his mistake. Lucky, there it is again, Arthur chuckled ruefully at himself as he self-pitied himself to sleep that night.

He never even thought of the others in the pub or hoped they lived. Actually, he hoped they didn't as they were they only ones who knew his face and the places he frequented.

In the world he grew up in caring and kindness were a fantasy, as friends killed friends and brothers ratted out brothers.

Also the rest of the gang had hated then envied him which made that hate worse, they had beaten and deprived him of food and water.

There was no love lost there, as far as Arthur was concerned the world had just washed its hands of some unnecessary waste.

The only problem that Arthur could see was what was he meant to do now. Yes the gangs are breeding places for vile and disgusting filth who will take one look at him and see him as worthless, but they were his only real choice.

He had grown up in an Orphanage, the patron of which was a Sir Arthur Whilby and so when an unnamed baby turned up on their doorstep they had named him after the man.

Not that it helped as the patron took no notice to that or the orphanage as a whole for that matter, paying the bare amount to it, which was then mostly nabbed by the matrons before a pittance was spent on the kids.

As soon as he was twelve years of age he was deemed an adult and therefore could no longer stay at the orphanage where he starved and went thirsty.

So, he did the only thing he could do. He went to a local gang and hoped he could work for them. That was then and now two years later here he sat, half frozen to death as he wrapped his faded black coat tightly around him desperately trying to stave off the cold.

The sun's light pierced through his heavily drawn eyelids as Arthur struggled to motivate himself into a standing position. He carefully scanned the streets for any anomalies before making his way out the warehouse door.

Arthur decided to make his way to the pub as curiosity over who perpetrated the attack still gripped him. He needed to know if he was right.

If this was some Gang raid, like the Billyboys getting greedy and trying to take out his gang so they could take all the loot, then he could take a breath of relief and move onto a different place.

No one would care about the little runt being missing from the dead. But. But if this was the Inquisitors doing... then there was no escaping this.

The Inquisitors might not normally bother about small jobs from unimportant merchants, workshop owners, or poor and weak nobles but if the target was them.

Well then they would go to hell and back to just be the one to truly finish you off for the offence.

Rounding the last corner, Arthur heart went still and he came to a sudden halt. There, with a rope dug deeply into their necks, still swung the dead and beaten bodies of his boss and the four thugs pretending to be guards.

His heart ached in fear and apprehension as he saw the Inquisitor at the door to the pub glaring at the crowd. A silent warning in his eyes, 'This is what will happen if you cross us'.

Arthur raced from the careful not make any sound as he didn't want anyone recognising him here. He again screamed at himself for his own stupidity!

Why had he gone back there when he knew that you never go back to the scene of the crime. His damn curiosity had beaten his sensibility yet again as he let himself be guided by silly emotions.

'Not again!', Arthur thought steely as he ran through narrowed streets and hugged to the shadows to distance himself as much as possible from any familiar gaze. the last thing he needs was yet more people knowing he was still alive.

In this part of the Capital, if they saw him, they wouldn't hesitate to turn him in, in the hopes for some reward at my capture. No one here was your friend, just a shark with a toothy smile to lure you in for the kill.

As he sped across a street he at last recognised, he came back to himself now. This place was several streets away and no one here was associated with his or any of the neighbouring gangs.

Arthur moved to the pubs lightened doorway as he made himself more presentable, smoothening out his ruffled clothes and calming his breath he stepped into the Garrison, the name of this pub.