Deus Necros

“Sir… what are we doing here?” Tull asked the prince. The two of them were drinking ale near the entrance to a bar that overlooked the royal road leading to the palace. The tavern sat on a low rise, its shade a relief from the noon glare, its canvas awnings bleached thin by years of sun. A brass chime tapped lazily in the wind and the smell of fried chickpea and old beer hung to the timber lintel. Beyond the railing, heat rippled above the road like oil on a pan.

Unlike Ludwig who had to take a detour to the city of the sun temple, the two of them were much faster as they headed straight to the heart of the capital. Thanks to the prince’s pockets especially they managed to make it without a hitch and were already staking out the main path. The prince kept his back to the wall and his eyes on the mirrored glass bottle behind the bar, using its warped reflection to watch the street without looking like he was watching it.

The two of them had been here since morning, thanks to the incredibly fast large vessel they took from the oasis near the base they made it to the capital in less than a day. The ride still hummed in Tull’s bones.

“Shuu, look over there,” the prince said as he spotted the carriage that was moving down the main road and toward the inner palace.

Tull took a quick glance and noticed what the prince was talking about. A seemingly normal carriage with the royal banner on it was moving with several people inside it. And among those two people, the Guard Knight was at the window speaking to others who weren’t too visible. Tull watched the wheel hubs, the pace of the horses, the rider that fell half a length behind to watch the crowd. It all read official and urgent.

“That’s…” Tull almost spoke but managed to contain the words. His surprise was evident.

“Don’t say it loud, we’re being monitored in case you didn’t notice.” the prince warned.

“No, I felt the gaze earlier, they still doubted your identity. Still, how is he there?” Tull replied in a hushed tone.

“That’s what we need to find out, the problem is, we can’t just go into the palace without reason…” the prince sighed as he relaxed in his chair. The sigh was for the room, not for Tull. His shoulders stayed ready. He lifted the cup to his mouth and let the rim touch his lip, nothing more.

“I mean, if they were to find out…”

“It won’t be a good ending for both of us.”

“That’s why sir, I asked that we don’t do this,” Tull took a chug from his drink. The ale had a bitter tail that did not belong. He rolled it around his tongue and smiled as if it pleased him. The men at the end of the bar stopped pretending not to watch.

“I have an idea on how to get inside though,” the prince said as he took a sip from his drink, though he made sure that he only touched the cup with his lips not drinking a drop. Keeping his mind sharp was a thing, but he already realized that the drink had something mixed in with it. The surface tension on the ale clung to clay in a way that told a story. A man who had grown up in silk had learned to read the street.

“You’re being too cautious sir,” Tull said, “It’s only sleeping drugs…” he said as he drank some more.

“I don’t have that much aura to cleanse it, might as well not drink at all.”

“It’s fine,” Tull said, “Not like anyone can handle me here, still I wouldn’t want to cause a commotion… but tell me about your idea?” Tull said as he drank the drugged ale with glee. He let his wrist wobble on purpose. Already the nearest watcher looked satisfied.

“We need to get in contact with the rug-rats and the underground community of this city,” the prince said.

“That’s already in the process, they drugged the drinks already.”

“I know, but we can’t be too obvious about it,” the prince said.

“I think you stayed in the palace too long sir, you think that going in docilely will get them to respect you?”

“I can’t start killing mindlessly…”

“I didn’t say that, not that killing anyone would serve us any purpose, still why do you want to go meet with the underground thugs?”

“They should have information we’re lacking…” The prince’s eyes tracked a lantern hook near the back door. Hooks at that height meant the door swung often. He kept the map of the room in his head and kept breathing slow.

“Then how good are you with lowering your vital signals?” Tull asked.

“Pretty good, I needed to learn how to act dead in case of assassins and all…”

“You might as well start now, we’re getting too many eyes on us from the bar.” Tull said as he got the drink closer to his mouth, visibly shook his own hand. Giving everyone the feel that the drug is working. His eyelids drooped just enough to reassure the men at the corner. He let his jaw slacken by a finger width.

“Ah,” Tull said as he stood up fast, he visibly shook his hand more as he went for a weak grip on his sword but immediately fell to his knees, in the process he tipped the table so he would spill the prince’s drink. No one would realize that the prince didn’t drink from his own cup. The clatter covered the soft thud of a thrown pin that jammed the back door latch open.

“Tull are you alright?” the prince feigned panic and immediately fell on top of Tull’s unconscious body. His breath puffed shallow and his pulse slowed. The prince let his body weight sink and let warmth leave his hands. He felt the floor grit through his sleeve and counted his own heartbeats until they felt thin and far away.

The prince muttered to Tull, “You sure they won’t stab us?”

“They won’t,” Tull replied, voice no louder than the scrape of a cup. “Just keep acting unconscious.”

A couple men approached their table and dragged them deeper inside. The other patrons of the bar all acted as if they saw nothing while the two were dragged deeper into the inner sections of the bar. The barkeep looked at a stain on the counter that did not exist. Somewhere a lute string twanged and died.

After a boring long time, the two of them were wrapped up in ropes and put to sit on two wooden chairs, their bodies searched for all possible weapons but they found little than a couple hidden daggers and some cheap jewelry that the people that captured them didn’t even deem worth taking.

Silver and gold was not cheap, but brass rings and earring weren’t worth the hassle of melting for a coin or two so they allowed the prince to keep his normal brass ring. The rope was new hemp that scratched. Tull flexed against it once to test the knots and then relaxed as if beaten.

Soon after, the two were doused in a couple buckets of water. Cold hit like a slap. Water ran off their hair to the dirt floor and found the low spots where other buckets had found the same path. The room smelled of rope mold and old onions.

An exaggerated exhale from the prince to declare that he was awake allowed him to act.

“What’s going on? Tull where are you?” the prince said.

He was blindfolded but might as well not put anything on him, people who master aura can see even through thin blindfolds. The cloth smelled of cumin and smoke. He could feel two men to his left and one to his right by the heat they threw into the air.

“I’m here buddy, I think we got in trouble.” Tull said barely able to stifle a laugh.

After all, they wanted to get in contact with the rugrats of the city. And here they are with their goal accomplished, now all they needed to do was figure out a way that their throats won’t be slit once this conversation was over.