The Lord of the Red Sun
Power presents itself at the most opportune of moments. But is Red prepared to face the consequences of such ambitions?
“Word on the street is that the Lord of Mithras Manor has taken gravely ill.”
“No way that’s true. The man was seen in full health a week ago,” said the female thief.
“I assure you both, my sources are very reliable.”
“And what else did they say exactly?” He finally spoke up from where he leant lazily against the cracked brick wall of the alley they loitered in. Up the road from where they stood was the Last Drop. An old pub that had made its home on the old cobbled street corner. The fumes from the hearth mixing with reeking piss and booze made him scrunch his nose to a noticeable degree.
“That he never leaves his bed and he complains of a most terrible hunger.”
“He’s a Lord, surely food would be the least of his concerns.”
“You would think,” said the cloaked figure. “Whatever he eats he throws back up. This could be our chance to find ourselves a handy fortune.”
The female thief rolled her eyes and gave them a clear middle finger. “No, thanks. Plenty have tried to take on the Lord’s Manor. None of them made it out alive. That’s a fool’s errand. And I ain’t no fool. You’re not seriously humouring this are you, Red.”
Red shrugged. “You know me, Carla. I love a challenge.”
“It’ll be your funeral, kid. And I promise you now, I won’t be attending,” she said as she gave him a half-hearted wave and wink before going passed him.
He smiled at that and then straightened. “So Villiden, what is it that you’re actually after?”
“You know me, Red. You know what clientele I do dealings with. One of them has for the longest time expressed interest in the Lord’s family ring, the one they call the Red Sun. They say he never even takes it off though.”
“Why is this client so interested in a family heirloom?”
“Well, the legends say it grants great power and benefits to the wearer. The buyer believes with it, they will be able to achieve anything and with the Lord’s illness. No one will stand in their way.”
“So it’s a job rooted in superstitious bollocks then?”
“Well when you put it like that, he did have a touch of flare to his delivery.”
“How much is he willing to pay?”
“20,000 gold coin.”
“Don’t joke with me now,” Red said reaching down for the handle of his knife. He rocked it back and forth in its sheath.
Villiden held his hands up in apology. “I don’t do jokes, Master Red. Do you see a jester before you? I am a humble Broker. When have I ever let you down?”
Red ground his teeth and relaxed a little. “You haven’t. So 20,000. That’s life-changing.”
“Enough to disappear. Or to climb out of the life that was dealt to you. Do you want to remain a boy or become a Lord?”
Red flinched a little as Villiden reached into his cloak. He tossed a leather bag over. It was so heavy, he nearly fumbled it. “You can count it all if you like. 5,000 altogether. You’ll get 10,000 once the job is complete. Consider what’s left to be my commission. Never say I’m not generous, Lord Red.”
Lord Red, eh? I could get used to that. “So tell me Villiden. When do I start?”
“Tonight, if you’re up for it. There is no time to waste. Follow me, I know a safe way into the Manor. They won’t suspect a thing.”
Before he could muster a response Villiden spun and scarpered off while his dark cloak floated in the wind behind him. It took Red a full minute to tie the leather bag to his belt. But soon he was in pursuit of the man, heading down narrow streets and past darkened alleys. They were heading up to where it overlooked them all. The Manor of Lord Mithras and where his destiny would finally be decided.
The night’s bitter cold had long settled as they reached the upper bank. Despite how late it was, a couple of older worn down and ragged folk were seen drifting one way or another.
“I’m still not seeing a way in, Vil.”
“Listen, you’ll hear them before you see them.”
The sound of hoofs clattering soon got his attention, as did the rolling wheels of the carriage leading the Wagons behind it.
“You really banked on me saying yes, didn’t you? You’ve been aware of this for a -” Red was cut off as Villiden grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down so they were hidden by a large pair of barrels.
“They’ll stop to make sure everything is in order. Once they check the back, you jump in. The easiest break-in, in history.”
“And if I get caught?”
“Well, that’s simple. Don’t get caught, Red. And remember, I was never even here.”
“Figured you would say that. And will you keep this for me, can’t exactly go sneaking around the Lord’s estate with a bag of money jangling off me now can I,” said Red.
“Fair point,” said Villiden accepting the bag back. “I’ll promise not to spend it in the meantime.”
Red rolled his eyes as he waited for the ample moment where he could climb into the back of the wagon.
He did so without even breaking a sweat. The first he noted was the stench. Of sweat and blood. The back of the wagon had sealed barrels with strange white engravings on them. It was what resided at the back that caught his attention. Prisoners with bags on their heads. Had they slighted the Lord of the Manor?
He took a risky glance behind him before deciding to slide past the large number of barrels. There were four people in total at the front end of the wagon and each of them had their hands bound behind their back while a black hood covered their heads. He reached out and ripped from out revealing a frail-looking man who blinked at him. He opened his mouth to speak but no words were uttered.
“Some kind of curse?” Red said as the man’s mouthing became more incensed. He didn’t need to figure out what the man was screaming at him in muffled rage.
Run!
The wagon jolted signalling it was time to proceed. Red caught markings on the man’s neck. Old magic. Forgotten magic. Witchcraft. Not wanting to expose himself when the wagon stopped again, he slid the hood back over the man’s head and retreated to where the barrels were. He crouched down and waited for the rumbling to stop.
When the wagon came to a halt he kept his head down. It would be easy for him to make his move now and be exposed. No, he had to wait just a little longer. The strange smell had him almost retching. He heard footsteps at the exit as the covers were parted. Two men climbed in, he didn’t dare peak in case he was seen but he heard them clearly enough.
“I almost don’t see the point, everyone knows he’s abstaining.”
“He might be but the Family isn’t,” said a gruff voice. “Prepare the barrels for transfer to the kitchen I will check on the livestock.”
“Yes, sir. Oi! Servants help me unload his Lordship’s special delivery,” this was followed by a loud clap and hurried voices. Meanwhile, the footsteps of the gruff voice got closer. Until they came to a sudden stop. The man’s haggard breath stank from here. Just what is in these barrels anyway?
“Leave the prisoners to me, once the barrels are unloaded I will personally deliver them to their new home.”
The man was soon heading back to exit the wagon. This time he risked a glance and saw that only the servants remained. He watched the two men carefully lower the barrels outside and disappear. Now I run.
He walked casually to the flap and parted it enough to see the cobblestone backyard with various buildings flanking each side. The back entrance the wagon came through was also in his line of sight. No sign of the servants. Damn it, I didn’t each grill Villiden on where the master bedroom is. Sloppy, Red. Very sloppy. He grumbled to himself and stepped down to the ground. If I’m to move around this place without catching someone’s eye I need some kind of disguise. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He soon found his unsuspecting target taking a sly break to smoke. The man was oblivious as he approached. So out of it, he was that he barely even made a sound as Red’s hands clasped the throat. The two tumbled to the floor and the man, now that he caught wind of his senses had begun feebly clawing at Red’s face but it was a futile effort. His motions became lethargic as his life faded away from him. Red wasted no time in stripping the man of his servant clothes; a ragged white tunic and dirtied-looking trousers. Despite the size difference he managed to make them fit. He threw the man over his shoulder and investigated the far end of the narrow path where he had found his victim. It led out to a small sectioned-off garden with large bushes and flower beds. Not wanting to be seen, Red crossed the grass and threw the body into the bushes hoping it would be difficult to spot. He scattered his clothes around and retreated the way he came. It wasn’t long before he was accosted by a familiar smell. The haggard man, and his nasty breath.
“You better not be skiving off work, lad.”
“No, sir. I was just -”
“Just what exactly?”
“Wondering when we're going to unload the people in the wagon?”
“Are you volunteering to take them down to the dungeon, lad?”
Would help if I knew where it even was. “I can do that.”
“Good, you can take Tommy with you. You know in case they give you trouble,” the man gestured behind him to another servant. He spun on his heel and marched off toward the main part of the manor house.
Red looked at Tommy who met his glare with suspicion. “I haven’t seen you ‘round ‘ere before.”
“I’m a new hire, you know where the dungeon is right?”
“You already forgot?”
Red grimaced.
“Don’t let Agar catch you looking aimless. He’ll send you to be flogged for incompetence,” said Tommy.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” Tommy led the way back to the wagon flap and parted it. Using the rope nearby he tied it so that it wouldn’t close on them. As expected the prisoner remained motionless and silent.
Tommy entered first and helped Red inside. “I never caught your name by the way.”
“Red.”
“Did they tell you anything about these prisoners?”
“Only that they are mutes.”
Tommy raised a knowing finger as they stopped before the prisoners. “You know of the markings then.”
“Yes, I’ve never seen magic like it.”
“That’s because it’s old, like much of the Lord’s knowledge. Where he learns it I will never know.”
Tommy began speaking in a tongue that Red could not fathom but it compelled each prisoner to stand and formed a line as a red wire passed through their arms binding them together. “You’ll pick it up eventually. Binding magic is one of the few things we’re allowed to learn. Helps us manage new stock.”
“Stock?” Red questioned as Tommy led the prisoners to the exit. He joined the back of the line but quickly moved up to help the otherwise blind prisoners step down so that they wouldn’t fall flat on their faces.
“Did the recruiter tell you nothing about what this job entails?”
“No, they didn’t.”
Tommy from where he now stood at the lip of the back of the wagon looked one way and the next before leaning close to where Red stood holding the last prisoner. “The Lord of this manor is afflicted with a foul curse. The kind that transforms good men into monsters.”
“And this stock -” Red swallowed putting the pieces together. It must be cannibalism. The Lord engages in the most vile of acts. It’s a miracle word hasn’t yet reached the town. “How does he keep this secret hidden?”
Tommy helped Red climb down from the wagon and he soon stood alongside the four prisoners who looked more than a little lost considering their current predicament. He rolled up a sleeve revealing some kind of branding. “This place will be my tomb, I can’t ever leave. My service and loyalty is to his lordship.”
The branding looks quite like the muffle ward placed on the prisoners. This is a scarring magic, one many treat as barbaric due to its permanence on the flesh. Guess those school lessons are finally paying off. “And it can’t be removed.”
“Nope, it’s all in the contract. Speaking of, where’s yours?”
Red chewed on the bottom of his lip as Tommy clenched a fist. “We’ll take them to the dungeon, I’ll explain when we’re out of sight. I’m here for something. If you help me, Tommy. I can help you.”
The man didn’t look all that convinced but he didn’t press the matter instead the two men proceeded to take the long journey toward the other side of the manor house. Here was the graveyard and at its centre sat a rather large mausoleum.
“Once we’re below the surface. You can explain everything and if I don’t like what you say. I’ll throw you in with them. What’s one more soul to the call anyway.”
The great doors swung open with a heavy creak. Tommy had to ignite and make use of an outside torch to illuminate the way. The inside was fairly bare bones with a stone engraved sarcophagus marking its centre. Tommy kept one eye on Red as he led the small group inside. He pushed down on the centrepiece of the coffin. It pressed in, and the mechanism did the rest pushing the stone structure to the immediate right revealing a long descending white stone staircase. Tommy joined red and pushed one of the prisoners indicating them to walk.
“Really with the bags on still?” Red asked.
Tommy shrugged and one by one he pulled the bags off. The prisoners each looked at the other in shock and surprise before staring at Tommy.
“Start walking or your insides will be turned to mush.”
They didn’t need to be asked twice and so, one after the other. They each began the descent and along the way, the scones on the wall erupted into a red wavering flame.
“You better explain yourself well, Red. Or you’ll join them down here. Like I said. I know magic. I know how to take your voice, and leave you begging for mercy.”
“The Lord is a harsh man by the sounds of it.”
“He has to be. It’s the only way to guarantee absolute loyalty.”
“Even at the cost of your freedom.”
Tommy grinned. “Why would I ever want to be free? So I can live a life on edge like you. This is the safest place in the city for me and especially for the livestock.”
“They are still people.”
“No, they are the forgotten and destitute no one above ground will miss them. This is the most use they’ll ever amount to.”
Red knew the prisoners still had their hearing at least. One or two would glance back at him with a pleading look. It took all his sense of self-preservation to remain focused on the task at hand.
“Besides you still haven’t told me what it is you are after.”
Red took in a couple of nervous breaths before speaking. “I seek to steal the Lord’s family ring and be gone from this foul place.”
“Well now that you’ve told me -” He didn’t finish his sentence and Red could barely find time to reach as the man’s now beastly-looking claw grappled with his neck. It pushed him against the wall. Tommy’s voice became guttural. “Idiot. You think you can come here and steal not just the Lord’s property. But the very source of his power and my bound servitude.”
Red gasped. “If I can steal the ring. I can release you.”
“Like I said. I know what lies outside this sanctuary. Disease, vagabonds, and arrogant nobles dependent on a weak-willed peasantry that are slaves, bound to fulfil whatever desires their master expresses.”
“Then what if I take his place? Why is the Lord of this manor ill?”
Tommy retreated backwards and his claw hand returned to normal. “How do you know that?”
“A very reliable source in the city.”
“Did they say who you had to grab the ring for?”
“No, just that the ring’s buyer believes that with it they will be able to achieve great power and wealth due to the Lord taking ill.”
Tommy wrinkled his nose and gestured for Red and the others to resume the descent. “The only person that could know is the Lord’s bastard son. Rumours were abound that he was back in town.”
“Is he a threat?”
“How should I know? But if what you say is true then he knows that the ring will legitimise him against his dying father.”
“Will you help me steal it?”
“So he can take control of the Family?”
“No, so I can.”
Tommy stopped again as did the prisoners. The steps themselves seemed to stretch forever into the darkness. How long have we been walking for anyway?
“Only if you elevate my position in all this.”
“What? Make you my right-hand man.”
“Why not? I have the power. If you wish to take the Lord’s position someone will need to bring you up to speed or at least help you grasp his incredible gifts that he now wastes by remaining bedridden.”
“Then let’s get these prisoners locked up and we can pay your Lord a friendly visit.”
They soon reached the bottom and ahead of them, the old and cracked wooden brazier erupted into a bright orange fire. The forked tongues of the flames reached out as they passed it by. The dungeon had definitely been part of something more in the past. Red dared not ask what, he was already pushing his luck by trying to usurp the Lord and backstab Villiden. Sure the gold coin would be nice but an entire estate would be much nicer. All this would be mine if I played this right. It’s downright mad but for what it is worth. You don’t make it anywhere in life by not taking risks.
They must have passed a dozen or so jail cells before settling on one. Each cell they passed was riddled with bones. Tommy muttered a few words and the cell door swung open. He commanded each prisoner to enter and repeated the words he said first. The iron door slammed shut and presumably possessed an enchanted self-locking mechanism.
“No keys?”
“Magic fortification is far more reliable than people give it credit for. The metal bars are laced with deterrent wards to keep the curious at bay.
“The Lord is quite clever then.”
“He has to be.”
“And yet he is ill due to him abstaining.”
Tommy began walking back the way they came. “I can’t speak for the old man. Something must have changed in his thinking. Part of me thinks the burden has become too much for him to handle.”
“Why do you think that is?” Red asked following behind Tommy as they began the ascent back to the surface.
“I don’t know. Perhaps with you taking his place. We can learn why he is no longer the man I pledged my service to.”
“So you will help then, once we return to the surface.”
“You’ve already told me enough to land us both in a cell or worse. At this point I have nothing more to lose… and everything to gain!”
Upon returning to the surface the night sky had vanished behind a shield of black gathering clouds. Tommy placed the torch back in its holder outside the tomb and cracked his knuckles. “Even the gods themselves sense change is coming and a weak man lies in his bed with it all for the taking.”
“You sharp changed your tune. What about your loyalty to him?”
“If he’s gravely ill, then I might as well be serving a corpse. I heard whispers that things might be changing soon. I wonder if this is what they meant. The return of the bastard to reclaim his birth rite.”
“A rite we are going to steal right from under his nose.”
“He’ll not let this go by the way,” said Tommy. “When he finds out his father lies dead with the ring under a new master. He will send everything he can against you.”
“Let him come. But let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, we still need to gain access to the Lord’s bed chamber.”
“Stay close to me, I know exactly where to find it.”
The large manor house was eerily quiet and empty. Since it wasn’t uncommon to have servants working through the night most of the guards barely gave them a passing glance. It wasn’t long before they were close to the Master’s Study. Unsurprisingly the door to it was guarded by two men clad in iron armour.
“To what do we owe you both the pleasure, Tommy.”
“The Lord requested we reallocate some paperwork to elsewhere in the house.”
“At this time of night, at this hour?” said one of the guards raising his closed helm.
“Yes, the Master of the Treasury has made a late request to review expenses. Especially with the recent increase in deliveries.”
“Okay, but don’t disturb the Lord’s rest. For all our sakes.”
“He won’t even know we’ve been here.”
One of the guards opened the door and both men slipped inside. The study was massive and doubled up as the Lord’s library. On both walls were bookshelves no doubt filled with text centuries old. The main orderly desk had behind it a large window that looked down upon the quiet dark city below. A flash of light and the following rumble made both men jump.
“At this rate, it won’t be us who wakes the old Master,” said Tommy.
“Then we best hurry,” Red said in a whisper. “The longer we are the more suspicious they will get.”
Tommy nodded and was cautious in opening one of the double oak doors that led into Lord Mithras’ bedroom. The king-size bed took up much of the room and it was only now that Tommy’s shock became real at the condition of his master.
“Ill? The man is skeletal. I’m amazed he’s still alive.”
“Something tells me he wasn’t always this way.”
“No, he was as fit as a fiddle until recently,” said Tommy before pointing to the frail man’s left hand, where sat on the frail gnarled fingers was the ruby ring, Red was after.
“I’ll do it,” said Red going behind Tommy and approaching the bed. The partially drawn purple silk curtains revealed a parting in the clouds. And the sudden pale light showed a full moon, but soon it was gone, as the oppressive clouds reclaimed their rightful place in the sky.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get the ring and we can leave.”
Red took great care in easing off the ruby ring but he was not careful enough when a vice-like grip found his wrist. Despite the old Lord’s frail appearance his hold on Red made the would-be thief wince a little in pain. The old man’s eyes shot open and they met Red’s petrified stare.
“Yes… you’ll do. Anyone but him. Anyone but him.”
“What?”
“My heir. I saw you as a blur in my dreams. That you would come to release me from the curse that stolen my life from me. I can’t keep living like this. Not as the Family’s pawn. But you, with your youth. You will make them proud. I’m sure.”
“Let me go, Mithras,” said Red gritting his teeth.
“You enter my home, disturb my ancestral grounds and now dare give me orders. I am still the one in control here, Master Red. Anytime now. I can cry out for my men and they will arrest you. That is unless you accept the consequences of our actions tonight. You have cast the die. The next decision you make will doom or save you. Or both. Take my mark and my ring. And remind my bastard son why I cast him out in the first place...”
Nice. I can't wait to read the rest of this story.
It's very compelling.