The Long Road to Ruin Ch. 49

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"I think I have what we need. This scroll holds a stone fist spell. Once activated and cast, the force the spell creates should be enough to shatter the wall. It looks pretty weak to me. I also have a silencing spell which will muffle all sounds within this area."

He smiled at her warmly, "Excellent plan, Shiloh. I knew bringing you along would be a plus, not counting the loss of Alen. By all means, commence!"

She went about casting the spells from the scrolls, blanketing the area in eerie silence before shattering the wall with the force of a hurled boulder. Jero stepped up to clear out the rubble, making a path into bowels of the Dhorn Headquarters. He tentatively stepped through the broken wall, finding himself in a small room. He listened carefully at the door. There were no sounds of frantic scrambling about so he took that to mean the silence spell had eclipsed this side of the wall as well. He motioned Shiloh and Simon through. "All clear so far."

Shiloh nodded, stopping at the door. She tentatively touched the door handle before pulling out her lockpicks. It took mere seconds to pick the lock on this door, so simple indeed. Which reminded her when she had control of the castle and Betancuria again, all locks would be of the highest quality and extremely difficult to pick, break or disable. Hmmm, they'd have to be all adamantine for sure. That would certainly cost her a lot of gold, but it would be worth it.

Once the door was open, she slipped into the shadows, as she moved into the corridor beyond. She didn't recognize this part and wondered where they were. This wasn't part of the castle basements, she was sure of that. She'd have to ask Simon. The short corridor emptied into a large hall broken up by partitions. She assumed they were storage rooms. Nonetheless would prove to be dark places to hide the bodies of the vanquished guards patrolling these sparsely lit depths.

Several unsuspecting men met their end, their throats slit with brutal efficiency. She left them where they lay until she found the door Simon needed disabled. She jammed one of her old lockpicks in, snapping it off. That should do it. Let them try to get that open. Then she resumed her task of silencing the patrolling guards and soldiers.

When the way was clear, she returned to Simon and Jero. "This isn't part of the castle, is it? Because I don't recognize it."

"No, Shiloh, this is actually the cellars of the Dhorn Headquarters. Come follow me, my lady." Simon grasped her hand leading her to the far northern end of the old cellar. "This is where we'll move into Castle Betancuria now. The tunnel starts behind the yonder door north of the stairs you closed off. This is where it'll be necessary for you to watch out for trapped floors and doors."

She nodded, "Consider it done."

"I do have faith in your skills," he winked at her. "Shall we proceed?"

Shiloh approached the door to the north, her keen senses on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. She spied a trip wire on the floor, quickly disabling it before thoroughly examining the door. It proved to be trapped as well. She quickly deactivated the spike mechanism and picked the lock.

She eased the door open and crept down a short hallway then turned right before heading to a secondary door. Simon slinked up behind her, "We'll need to follow this tunnel for quite a ways. It's trapped to oblivion, though, so be very careful."

"I get it, Simon. I know my job so you don't have to keep reminding me." She flashed him a withering glance before disappearing again.

In the distance, he could hear her working and motioned to Jero, "We should wait until she calls for us to follow," Simon cautioned. After a few telltale clicks, Shiloh whistled to them. When they caught up with her at the end of a long corridor, she was standing before an iron gate, skillfully picking its lock.

"Something seems odd here, Simon," she spoke up. "I can see shadows on the floor moving. And do you smell that stench? Damn Jero, did something scare the shit out of you again?"

Jero scowled at her, "Very funny, little coo. Do your job and get us through that door before I put you to work on your back."

"You and what army," Shiloh rolled her eyes before turning back to the gate. She traced a narrow wire up the jamb until it connected with a tiny vial. She plied her knife between the wire and jamb, neatly severing it before taking the vial. "Gas trap, pfft. Can't people come up with anything more original or challenging?"

As she opened it, the shadows she'd spotted on the floor coalesced, forming into several writhing puddles of thick, porous, golden sludge stiffly built up into an amoeba shape. They honed in on Shiloh, extending their oozing shape. She reacted swiftly; tumbling past their gelatinous puddles to the empty space beyond. "Keep them busy," she called out as she pulled out a scroll case. She knew she had a scroll containing a fire spell somewhere. Hopefully that would affect them. As she dug, she watched as the oozes attacked Simon and Jero, trying to latch their viscous appendages onto either of the two men. She knew from the larger gelatinous cubes she'd seen in the sewers that the goal of the ooze was to engulf and constrict, sucking the victims dry and leaving behind empty dry husks. She couldn't allow that. She knew Simon and Jero would have more success beating them back with their bludgeoning weapons than she would with her swords.

"I got it," she called, tumbling back into the fray. "I hope this works." From the scroll, she cast an arc of fire. Its flames engulfed the creatures, dehydrating their glutinous masses.

"Tell me you have more of those scrolls," Simon panted as he knocked the goop off the morningstar he'd had sheathed at his side.

"I have one more of those. I have a couple scrolls of fireball and one of firestorm. I'd rather not cast the firestorm one in such an enclosed area. We'd end up all burnt to a crisp." Shiloh approached another gate, quickly dispatching the trap and lock. It creaked loudly as it opened up into a natural cavern. A narrow stone formation crossed over a spring of clear crisp water. "This has to be under the castle."

"It is," Simon added as he followed her.

Trailing behind them, Jero grimaced, wrinkling his nose, "Uggghhh... Quite disgusting those jellies. And damn, they stink."

"Not worse than you," Shiloh shot back as she approached a third gate.

"I don't remember seeing these things here before," Simon commented as he watched her work on the next gate.

"You know, Simon, perhaps you should give orders to keep the tunnels in better shape. Once we're done, that is."

Rich laughter slipped from Simon's lips, "Oh, I could think of a few people I'd like to see cleaning this up."

Shiloh grinned back at him, "Like Asshole Benthur, perhaps."

Simon's grin easily matched Shiloh's. A wicked look crossed his face.

"Hehehe, whatever," Jero spoke up. "In a few days, we'll be far, far away from here, on a sunny beach, with plenty of gold and a well set wench on each arm."

Shiloh rolled her eyes at him, "Hope you pay them properly," she sneered before opening the gate. Another ooze slithered into view, its gelatinous tentacles wrapping around her leg. She squealed, trying to shake it off. She could feel its sucking hold on her even through the leather of her bodysuit. "Get this thing off me!"

Simon reacted, bashing its writhing form with his morningstar. It quivered, shooting another appendage at him. Shiloh slashed at it with her blade, knocking enough loose for her to pull away. She felt arms surrounding her, tossing her backwards. If not for her cat-like reflexes she was sure she'd have ended up flat on her ass. Readying the second stroll, she chanted the arcane words, unleashing fire and damnation on the oozing jelly. "Thank you, Simon. I could feel its hold on me. Ugh... now I smell like it."

"Don't worry, my lady. I will be your shining knight," he smiled fondly at her. "Besides, I'd be truly screwed if I lost you now. We're nearly there."

A small chuckle slipped from her lips, "Good to know I'm needed." She glanced away for a brief second, willing her chaotic thoughts to subside. She still didn't get him. How could be so sweet one second and then turn serious and business-like the next? She knew there was something sparking between them. He had to feel it, too. Please, gods, say he feels as I do. She wanted him. He could be what she'd always wanted. Please say this isn't a cruel joke. Simon held a torch aloft, scanning the area, "I think that was the last of those jellies. Up ahead is a door. Let's go."

Shiloh took point, picking the lock on a handsomely carved door. She'd have to remember this one and have it relocated to the castle proper once she was queen. She pushed the thought aside as she opened the door. It led to a circular staircase leading down. Further into the deep, we go, she mused.

At the bottom of the circular stair was a circular room. This she recognized. She glanced around, noting the outline of a hidden door she'd used before on her forays into the castle vaults. Simon joined her, "You are familiar with this part, are you not?"

"I am. I've been here before," she added as she looked around.

Simon strode into the center of the room, "I've been told these tunnels are the only connection between the castle and the city, well, apart from the castle gates, that is. There've been debates about whether your father had known about these tunnels and why he hadn't used them to escape."

Shiloh leveled a sneer upon him. "He knew. He'd rather sacrifice his own people than run from the Dhorn Army. It's sad, really, when you think about it. My mother took her own life. That's the saddest thing of all. She killed herself with a dagger. If only my damn greedy father had surrendered, she may still be alive. Surely the Emperor wouldn't have her executed."

"She may have become a political prisoner, but I suspect she would've been executed alongside your father." Simon replied. "What's done is done. From everything I've heard of her, she was an extraordinary woman and her loss is a tragedy, but that's war, my lady."

"The innocent always suffer in war," Shiloh quietly remarked. "Let's just move on. If I dwell on it, I'll get angry and we can't afford that right now."

Simon nodded, drawing her along with him as they set off through a series of winding and often crumbling tunnels which brought them out in a place Shiloh knew. She casually remarked on it as she picked her way around the rotting remains of her father's soldiers. She said a silent prayer for them as they continued on making their way into one of the lower basements she hadn't been in since way before the fall of the castle.

She knew the castle jail was ahead. It seemed to her that's exactly where they were headed as well. It made no sense. Why would her father hide that much coin in the jail area? He often housed prisoners down here. As they reached it, she strolled though the dungeon room, her eyes flicking over each and every instrument of torture. The bloody racks, the cages, whipping posts, the iron maiden and spiked press... Shiloh shivered in horror. How many unfortunate souls met their ends here at her father's command? She heard Simon slip up behind her, "The treasure's in the adjacent room behind the enchanted door."

"Enchanted door?" She replied as her vision blurred for a split second. She wiped the pooling tears from her eyes before she turned to Simon. "I have no recollection of this place. I knew my father could be ruthless and cruel, but seeing this... how could he? I don't remember that door, either. It's glowing red. I assume that's the enchanted part."

Jero spoke up, "This place is creepy. I'm surprised Benthur didn't install the equipment with his penchant for torture."

"There'd be vats of acid if it was Benthur," Shiloh interjected. "Trust me, I know. He caught me three times. The third time he tortured me. He whipped me, dropped me into vats of fire and ice. He nearly killed me and would have if it hadn't been for one General Beckett stopping him."

"Beckett was murdered a few months back," Jero spoke up. "Wonder if Benthur ordered it?"

Simon scoffed, "I wouldn't have put it past him. Anyway, these chambers remain as they were when we found them. They haven't been used to my knowledge, though. Now it's time to get into that vault."

Jero grinned, following Simon and Shiloh to the glowing edifice, "Well, our little coo has done an excellent job dealing with all the locks and traps. I'm sure that enchanted door won't give her any trouble."

Simon stood before the enchanted door. In a clear, concise voice, he spoke the words, "Terrcoria abris." The red glow receded as the door swung open to reveal a large room beyond, the stone floor covered with piles upon piles of gold coins.

"Jackpot!" Shiloh exclaimed.

"Oh yes, my lady. Did I lie?"

Jero bounced about giddily, acting like a kid, "Oh fuck, Simon. This is the motherlode!"

"Didn't I promise you as much, my old friend?"

Shiloh grabbed handfuls of gold, feeling them slip through her fingers and clink back to the floor below. The sound was sweet music to her ears. Even the fifth that Simon had promised her would go a long way to help her achieve her goals. "This is amazing, Simon. Holy fuck, makes me wonder what else Daddy dearest was hiding? I wonder how much his advisors knew."

He eyed her slowly, "We'll probably never know, my lady. So let's collect the gold. It'll take a while to stow it in the bags of holding we brought. We do not want to leave anything behind."

A few hours pass before the three thieves finished gathering up every last piece of gold, stowing the loot in the bags of holding Simon and Jero brought. Shiloh packed a full third of the gold on the floor into her portable hole, considering it her take.

Simon glanced around as he wiped the sweat from his brow, "I think that's all of it. Now to make our getaway. We go out the way we came in."

Jero danced a little jig around the empty room, whooping with glee, "Fuck, Simon, have you any idea how much gold I'm carrying right now?!? You are awesome, Simon. We have pulled off the heist of the century." The infectious grin he wore soon extended to Shiloh and Simon. "Fuck, with this money I could buy the entire city and the surrounding lands to boot."

He danced about some more, stopping only to plant sloppy kisses on both Shiloh and Simon. Quickly Simon pushed Jero away. "Twenty-five million gold coins minus Shiloh's cut of course will definitely go a long way, my friend," Simon grinned as well, reveling in his friend's enthusiasm.

Jero quipped, still grinning like a fool, "I'm gonna buy me a private island and retire with a bevy of wenches."

"You have that island already picked out, don't you?" Simon chuckled, "Oh, it was one of the smaller isles amongst the Kamarza Archipelago, correct?"

"That's it exactly, Simon." Jero grinned. "I am looking forward to being master of my own demesne."

Simon patted him on the back, "You will be, Jero. Lord Fetton, how does that sound?"

Jero whooped with glee once more, "Like 10 million gold coins, Simon."

Simon glanced back at the chamber beyond. "We should go. We've spent more than enough time here. We can discuss this more when we are out of here and on our way home."

The trio happily sped out of the dungeon and back towards the tunnels. As they stepped into a large room, the hairs stood up on Shiloh's neck. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. The darkness surrounding them disappeared in a flash of light, illuminating a full company of archers as well as Lord Commander Mortenson and Commander Benthur.

A curse slipped from Shiloh's lips. They were surrounded.

"Halt!" The grey haired commander shouted.

Jero cursed loudly as well before Simon stepped out in front of Shiloh, shielding her with his body, "Peron."

Arto grinned widely, looking akin to the cat that caught the canary, "Oh look, what a pleasant surprise. If it isn't my darling little Belara... Or perhaps I should say 'Princess Shiloh Aurelius.'" He beamed a sinister smile at her. "Well it is apparent these criminals are trying to steal the treasure. And look at who we have here? Lord Lyonson seems to be involved as well. What will your father say, Simon? This will shock His Grace, no doubt."

Peron frowned at Arto before turning his attention to Simon, "Please tell me this isn't true." Worry lines seemed to etch deeper into the older man's face.

"I certainly haven't come here because I enjoy the scenery." Simon retorted. He scanned the room, his gaze moving over each of the bowman. Much to his relief, he realized these weren't Benthur's specially picked men.

Peron shook his head. Never in all his days would he believe Simon could perpetrate such a crime. "But why?"

"Are you really that naïve, Peron? I would rather secure this gold before it falls into the hands of someone like Commander Benthur. Who's to say I'm not acting on behalf of His Grace?"

"His Grace would have informed me if that were so. You have committed a severe crime against the Empire, Simon. Not even I will be able to get you out of this." Peron stroked a weary hand over his careworn face. He knew the Emperor would never permit this.

Simon took a few steps forward. He could hear Jero cursing under his breath. And Shiloh moved up behind him, still using his bigger body as a shield. Though very tall for a woman, Simon stood a few inches taller than she. He hoped she would stay in his shadow. It would protect her from the worst if this stand-off went sour. "Step aside and let us pass, Peron. I can and will have both of you executed."

Peron shook his head. "You know I can't do that and you are in no position to be making threats of execution."

Simon glanced back at Shiloh, watching as she caressed the hilts of her weapons. He could see in her eyes what she was thinking. There were no shadows in the room for her to retreat into if this went bad, but he trusted in her skill that she would find a way to escape. Simon palmed his morningstar, "I'd hate to have to step over your corpse."

"And I'd hate to have to order my archers to fill you full of arrows."

A belly shaking laugh escaped from Simon's lips, "That's funny, Peron. You and I both know your troopers and archers can't hit the broad side of the castle with their bows. Besides I will have the heads of every last man who dares to fire at me and mine."

"Simon, please, think about what you're saying. You are willing to throw your life away for this. Stand down. I will not ask you again."

Arto stepped forward. "This is getting us nowhere, Peron. This is your last chance, Lyonson. Heed me now. Hand over the stolen gold and the Princess and I'll grant you a quick and painless death."

Simon paused for a moment before advancing another few steps. He'd reached the middle of the room. "You are the only one with a perhaps not so quick and perhaps very painful death in your future, Benthur. You forget your place. You have no authority over me. I will make sure His Grace drives that point painfully home for you. Now stand aside."

Arto's eyes narrowed dangerously. He'd teach Simon a thing or two about points being driven painfully home. "Archers! Aim and fire at will."

The argument between the three men had given Shiloh the time to dig into her scrolls. Just as Arto gave his command, she finished chanting the arcanum on the scroll, directing the spell's energy at Peron and Arto. The fiery orb hit Peron square in the chest, exploding viciously and knocking him off his feet. He was dead before he hit the ground. The force that impacted Peron slammed Arto into the wall. He slumped to the floor, singed, breathless, but nonetheless alive.