Chương 72: The Inner City

As we drew closer to the central hall, I climbed up to the street grates every so often and peered up. I lifted the grates up an inch, letting myself see into the street, and helped guide us toward the central hall. But from here, I also had a much better view of the inner city of Oschester. It had broad cobblestone streets with tree-lined boulevards, and its buildings, though similar to the outer city, were sturdier and cleaner. At least, they had been, once upon a time.

Now, orcs filled the streets, making campfires wherever they pleased and ripping apart the buildings to fuel them. They cooked meat (I didn't even want to think about what type of meat it was) and drank from kegs that they'd looted from the nearby buildings. Then there were the prisoner camps. They'd taken whichever plazas they could find—which included the open ring around the central hall—and filled them with human slaves, who were treated much like they were in the outer city.

There were just far more of them, packed into less space. Outside, the sky was overcast, and a slight drizzle of rain began, which only made the haze of the smoke worse, and would help with Lord Ceonwin's surprise attack. But it also meant I didn't know how much time we had left. I forced myself to pay attention to the great hall. It reminded me of a cathedral, but there were no stained glass windows, and it wasn't shaped like a cross.

There was a single spire near the back, where an orc lookout stood, and a massive gate at the front. When I dropped back into the sewers, I said, "We can't go in the front. They'll notice."

"There has to be a connection inside the hall," Sage replied.

"Let's keep looking." We approached, travelling through the sewers, until up ahead, a voice called, "Hey! You there! What do you think you're doing?" I squinted. It was a Dupe in light armour, and he certainly wasn't a sapper, but he wasn't an orc either. I held up a hand and shouted back, "Are you one of the portreeve's men?"

"Yeah?" the Dupe replied.

"And you are?"

"We're here with a message for him," I replied.

"Hold it right there," the Dupe replied, pointing his spear at us.

"Don't come closer. I can carry the message from here."

"Or what?" Brawl muttered.

"Little brother can't do much to make us stop." I didn't heed the warning and kept walking closer.

"Tell the portreeve his investment paid off. Lord Ceonwin is dead." The Dupe's eyes widened.

"Wonderful news. Now…stop. I can bring the message to him." I winced at the reply, and said, "We want to speak with him."

"Where are the Subtle Men?"

"They're indisposed at the moment," Sage called.

"They're making sure Ceonwin's army doesn't get too uppity."

"But we expect to be compensated for this," Anchor said.

"So you want to be paid, now, too?" the Dupe demanded.

"Or you could show us the way up, and no one has to get hurt," I said.

"Come on, we're all here for our pound of flesh, right? How did they pay you?"

"Two hundred silver." I barely contained my disgust. But at the moment, we needed this Dupe, even if he was a traitor who'd gotten hundreds—probably thousands now—for a little bit of silver. He led us down a snaking maintenance hall, then up a stairway. At the top was a doorway, and when he cracked it open, he revealed a view of the hall ahead. It was a massive open space, filled with orcs and the stench of burning meat.

They had no care in the world—they just cooked inside the hall, too, packing into whatever space they could. There was a seat at the end where the portreeve would have watched over his city, but at the moment, no one sat on it. An overweight man with stringy red hair paced in front of it, wearing a pristine green gambeson with golden hem. That had to be the portreeve. The orcs, for the moment, tolerated his presence, though a few hungry gazes shifted over to him, staring him down. But there was no sign of Mugreth.

Just to be sure, I whispered, "That's the reeve?" You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"That's him," the Dupe who led us confirmed.

"Bring him to us," I said.

"I want to speak with him directly."

"Can't you go out there yourself?"

"Do you want to argue with us?" Anchor demanded, giving his bowstring a twang like it was a guitar.

"N—no. I mean, yes, it will be done." The Dupe stepped out of the door, then rushed over to the portreeve and whispered something in his ear. After a few seconds of hesitation, the portreeve nodded, then waddled over to us. I backed down the hallway a few steps, giving the man room. Both of them stepped into the hallway.

"Close the door," I whispered.

"Hm?" the Dupe asked.

"No, we can—""I pressed my spear up against the portreeve's flabby chin and hissed, "Close the door!" The traitorous Dupe did as he was told. I moved to the side, pressing my back against the wall, and said, "Anchor." Then I tilted my head toward the traitorous Dupe. Anchor drew an arrow from his quiver in a swift motion and fired it. It raced past the portreeve's nose and pierced the traitor's neck.

Rushing forward, I pressed my hand over the traitor's mouth and pulled him away from the door, so he couldn't even make a thud as he toppled over and died. When he fell still, I turned to the portreeve.

"Where's Mugreth?" The portreeve was babbling incoherently. He wiped a few specks of blood out of his eyes and gasped. I grabbed him by the collar and pushed him back into the wall.

"We know you're helping the orcs."

"I—I'm just a prisoner here! Why'd you—""Don't do this," I snapped.

"Tell us where Mugreth is."

"I'm just a prisoner here like the rest of the civilians! I—I don't know a—anything!

""Sure you don't," Anchor said. He drew an arrow and pressed its sharp head up against the portreeve's neck.

"Prisoners don't get to stand amongst the orcs peacefully, watching them eat, pacing in front of the seat you would have once ruled from." Brawl circled around to the other side.

"Do not lie to us."

"That's not how the orcs would treat a prisoner like him, anyway," Sage whispered.

"If he was truly a prisoner, they'd throw him from the wall for fun to see if he'd bounce or not. He's not fit for work."

"Wha—what do you want?" the reeve blubbered.

"If you truly don't know where Mugreth is," I said, "then you know how to find him. Lead us to him."

"The orcs will see you!"

"No they won't," I said.

"And if you try to expose us, I'll have my archer stick an arrow in your eye. I don't know how it feels to die from an arrow in the eye, but I don't imagine it's a pleasant feeling."

"It's not a pleasant feeling at all," Anchor said, tapping his eyepatch.

"Thought I didn't die." I knew we couldn't actually kill him, but we had to bluff. Or, of course, we could have waited here and tried to hold onto the portreeve. But if the orcs noticed he was missing, it could jeopardize our operation. And if we let him go back to the hall, Mugreth could order him dead at the moment. Worse, if the attack began and we weren't watching him, he could flee into the sewers—maybe we'd never see him again. No, we had to get him out of the hall.

Plus, the orcs wouldn't kill the portreeve without Mugreth's command. Killing Mugreth was the only way to guarantee that the portreeve stayed alive and the mission succeeded. Besides, Lord Ceonwin had ordered us to kill Mugreth. I couldn't just throw up my hands and say, 'Whoops, I forgot.' If we took out their commander, our attack would go far more smoothly. The portreeve gasped, "How are you going to kill Mug—""That's not your problem," I whispered.

"Just go!" The man stumbled back, then pushed open the door. I said, "Anchor, watch him as he leaves the hall. Everyone else, we're going to the rooftops." First, we backed down the sewer stairs and navigated back to the tunnel, then raced until we reached a ladder up to the nearest sewer grate. We climbed up until we reached the grate. I pushed it off to the side as casually as I could, then poked my head out. A patrol of orcs had just passed, and if we moved quickly, we could dart across to a nearby alleyway.

Staying silent, I signalled to those below me with my hand, then pointed where we needed to go. Taking a quick breath to steel myself, I darted up the rest of the ladder and sprinted across the street until I reached the alleyway. The others were close behind, and after a few seconds, Anchor caught up as well. We scaled the side of the nearby buildings—some kind of residence for a city administrator, by my best guess—and ducked behind the peak of the roof. The others fell in beside me.

Waddling out of the hall, the portreeve stopped, then glanced around, then continued.

"This is awfully risky…" Anchor whispered.

"If he calls out and points us out, everything's going to fall apart."

"Yeah, but that'd get him killed too." I motioned to Anchor's bow.

"I don't think he has that kind of courage."

"I hope you're right. But we still need him alive."

"He doesn't know that." The portreeve continued, walking through the streets at a brisk pace, weaving between orcs. They let him pass, even though they glared at him and jeered at him. We kept up easily, sneaking over the rooftops. On a sunny day, the orcs on the watchtowers would see us, but at the moment, it was too hazy for that. Finally, the portreeve led us to an open town square halfway between the wall and the city's upper hall. It wasn't anything impressive, but a cluster of orc soldiers had gathered there.

A statue stood in the center, but the orcs had cut its head off and painted streaks of blood on it, which seemed especially unnecessary.

"Vile creatures…" Brawl whispered.

"Look," I said, pointing to the far side of the square, just beyond the headless statue. Mugreth, wearing the exact same armour as yesterday evening, rode on the back of a fully-grown ruin-hound. It yipped and snarled, but he pulled tight on its reins, keeping it steady beneath him. The portreeve walked over to him and knelt, then bowed his head. The orcs, aside from a few jeers directed at the portreeve, stayed deathly silent. In a low tone, the portreeve began, "My lord—" A horn sounded, cutting him off.

But it wasn't a shrill orc horn. Lord Ceonwin was attacking.