I stepped closer to the man, immediately I felt Praesus’ hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Not knowing what to say, I said nothing at all. There was something that drew me to this man, to this prisoner. Who knew how long the Allaine’s and their cohorts had held him here against his will. Following some deep urge, I reached for the restraints that bound his right wrist.
Praesus, having never let go of my shoulder, pulled me back before I could make any progress at loosening his shackles. I could only see that their weight had gouged his wrists badly, leaving a circular trail of crimson over broken skin.
“He is not our concern.” Praesus spoke through clenched teeth. Old Rufus sniffed idly at the broken crown on the stone floor, and seemed to agree with Praesus’ stance. In a hurry, Rufus trotted to Praesus’ side, an act I had never seen him to prior to that moment. I couldn’t tell if he was warming up to Praesus, or simply wanted to keep his distance from the shackled man.
“He is our concern,” I urged, pointing at the mam, “This could’ve been us!”
“We’ve no clue who he is, or what they are holding him for!” Praesus was, as usual, quick to anger and quick to expose the tenuous nature of our partnership.
I asserted, “You mean were holding, as soon as we are able, we are setting him free. I’m not leaving him here for the remnants of this group to do with him as they see fit.”
Praesus’ face was the definition of disbelief, “You just used trickery, and the love of two siblings to subdue a woman who’s very reason for vengeance against you was due to you turning her brother into a flesh eating monster who you control, and now suddenly you feel like now is a prop’r moment for charity?” Praesus spoke slowly and methodically.
I shrugged, “You gotta pick your spots.”
Arms up in futility, Praesus swore and threw back his head in a hardy laugh.
“Hey, don’t try to make me out to be the bad guy here. I didn’t see you coming up with any morally acceptable means of escaping this shithole for the second time today!”
Old Rufus cut into our debate with a series of curt barks. Praesus and I turned to see the deceased Anton hovering with his open maw over his sister Asta’s shoulder.
“Anton get it together!” my voice rolled and echoed down the prison hall. The zombie Anton snapped to attention, immediately uninterested in the still living flesh that coated his sister’s arm.
Praesus took note of this, but said nothing. He was more focused on the unidentified prisoner. I didn’t venture any closer, but I gave the man a good once over to see if anything stood out. His garb, other than the well worn purple robe and cracked crown, was normal.
“Is he royalty, maybe from another portal? Someone they would’ve saw as a rival?”
Praesus was being more cautious than I, “He’s a burden we do not need. We need to fend for ourselves.”
“You need to fend for yourself, I am fairly confident with their captain under my command, and his sister captive, I can all but walk right through anything else they throw at me. Can you say the same?”
“Your newfound confidence astounds.” Praesus’ voice was grim, but my point stifled him, at least in the moment.
“I am not proposing taking him with us, just letting him go to give him a fighting chance.”
“He could be a cannibal,” Praesus was grasping at straws.
I stepped out of the cell briefly, gripping the torch from the wall that had concealed the man. “Great the arsonist, extortionist and kidnapper has views on the irreparable corruptibility of another.” Quickly, I hopped back into the cell and shone the torchlight over the man’s beaten face.
The torchlight was illuminating, in more ways than one. I was able to look past the man’s battered countenance; numerous welts and the long-dried blood spatters were caked all over his face.
Praesus continued in vain, “...a thief, some other kind of deviant. I am simply saying, you do not know this man, nor what he is capable of.”
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