The three of us trudged back the very same way we had entered this land hours before. In the midst of a remote snow field stood a window of miraculous qualities. An ordinary window it was not.
When we stepped in front of the window-like portal, Praesus, myself, and even Old Rufus the dog, noticed a problem. Namely, that the portal, instead of showing us view of the interior of Praesus’ chamber, from where we had traveled, showed only a fuzzy grey-black smudge. It reminded me of an old television set whose picture tube had just burnt out.
“Can we go through that?” I asked Praesus.
Carefully, he prodded it with his club as Rufus sniffed its edges. “Solid, it does not appear we can enter.”
“No you may not enter, for you still have dealings with us…”
The voice behind us sounded familiar, however, I couldn’t quite place it.
“Hands up this time please!”
“Oh, the lovely lady archer.” I raised my hands and turned. Praesus did the same, although he harbored his typical look of chiseled anger. Rufus simply patted before us, the look in his eyes seemed to indicate he knew how all of this was going to end.
“Your plague sorcery has decimated my home, and…” the young woman grew emotional, but caught herself just before tears, “and you’ve cursed my brother. You will come with me, or you will die where you stand.”
“Young madam,” Praesus said stepping forward, “on your authority alone we will be doin’ no such thing.”
The archer confidently whistled between her fingers, and a bevy of troops appeared against the cold breaking wind. They all showed gritted teeth and an array of readied weapons.
“That increases your authority substantially, I assume you’ll be escorting us back to the prison quarters?” I asked.
She motioned back the way we had come with bow drawn, “March, and be quiet as yer doing it.” Her reinforcements fell in behind her as we all headed back to the fort we had only escaped from minutes ago.
*
Back at the prison cell that I had broken out of earlier that day, the lady archer sat in front of Praesus and I on an old stool, only a set of time-weathered bars between us. The quarters smelled of shit and our own failure, the scents so entangled I couldn’t separate the two.
How could we let this woman follow us, and then subdue us?
I saw Old Rufus beyond the prison bars, chained just out of our reach
“I know what you’re askin’ yourself,” Praesus said, in spite of the woman listening to our every word.
“What?”
“How could we let this lone archer, and her band of merry idiots capture us?”
Surprised, I answered, “Actually, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Do tell…”
“We’re cursed young squire.”
“Eh, say again?”
“We’re cursed you and I, the two of us I mean, our working in tandem.”
“Right, and just how do you know this?” I spoke making sure Praesus would be well aware of my skepticism.
“No more talk.” the lady archer stood, as some noise came from the front of the prison. We heard a door open, the kind of sound you’d expect, ancient and medieval, hinged metal grinding against one another for the same space.
The lady archer shouted up the steps, “How is he? Is he ready?” her voice wavered with feeling.
Two guards came into view, they were escorting what looked to be another prisoner. With a closer look, I realized one of the guards was the man I had covered in Praesus’ elimination in order to prompt our earlier escape. They led, what I assumed was a man, down the corridor. Whoever he was, if it was in fact a he, was covered in a metal shroud that ended just below his neck. The contraption was something from Dumas' nightmares. This new prisoners hands were bound behind him, with a copious amount of chain.
They stopped in front of our cell, the now cleaned guard spoke to the lady archer, “He’s no better or no worse madam.”
“Looks like we gettin’ a roomie squire.”
I didn’t fully realize what was happening until this new and mysterious prisoner turned towards me. The metal mask fastened to his head, had a narrow gap at eye level. Despite it’s small size, I could see a pair of those telltale green eyes glowing from within.
The lady archer nodded to the guards, one swung open our cell, the other unclasped the fastening mechanisms that held the mask on, letting it clang to the floor. Together they pushed the man into the cell Praesus and I shared. Without the mask, I recognized him instantly; Anton Allaine, the man who was commanding the opposing troops during our escape.
The lady archer’s resemblance to him was uncanny. As she leveled a finger at me, I saw the same sureness, same proud stance. In much the same way her brother had, she introduced herself, “You left my brother for dead and he ended up a ghoul. I, Asta Allaine would have you restore him or perish.”
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