Member-only story
Mustn’t… Mustn’t be late. Mustn’t be. Mustn’t be.
The lantern in keeper Wile’s hand swung side to side across the narrow cobblestone passageway, loosing a thousand orange demons to dance over the walls. The king was on Wile’s mind at the moment and he took no time to navigate the maze of passageways and dark hallways that stretched out under the Rock like the roots of an ancient stone tree.
There were passages down here that even Wile didn’t know about. And This was Wile’s place. My place. No man knew these dungeons like him. Nobody except Swim, the black cat who had wandered the dungeons, preying on rats, for as long as Wile could remember. Which wasn’t all that long, but still…
Mustn’t… Mustn’t be late.
Wile hated when the king talked to him. It made him firghtfully nervous. The way the king’s voice carried was unnatural. And those green eyes… Wile was more than content to keep to himself. He spent most of his time in the dungeons, watching over prisoners or getting terribly drunk on fermented mare’s milk.
Not today though. Mustn’t get drunk today. Today is important.
Wile hurried down passeway after passageway. Rusted iron bars lined some of the walls. From inside the dank cells gazed silent prisoners. Garth, Martin, Peabrooke… All men who’d displeased the king one way or another…
