Page 19 of The Broken Prince

“They’re rotating.”

I looked up, seeing a surge in the number of guards, all chatting with one another. “Go.”

We crossed the open area at a run, sprinting while no one kept watch at the most crucial time. We hit the gate and then withdrew our daggers to start cutting.

Ian sawed off a piece with ease. “It’s badly damaged.”

I stabbed my dagger inside and started to chip at the pieces.

Ian grabbed my wrist and steadied me.

I stilled, my eyes on him.

He nodded upward.

My gaze lifted, seeing the archer walking directly over us, oblivious to us beneath.

We went still and quiet and waited for him to pass before we started to carve at the warped wood again. We eventually made a hole big enough for us to crawl through, and then we were inside the fence, which was hollow. We could both stand fully upright.

Ian looked around and tested the beams with his hands. “This is cheap…”

“Come on.” I took the lead, following the wall for several minutes until it ended. “It must connect to a mountain or rocks here.”

“Should we break out into the other side?”

“That’s the only way we’ll learn anything.” We took out our daggers again and started to carve through the wood, breaking the pieces as minimally as possible, trying to stay quiet because the sun was rising, and people would be stirring soon.

Once we made a big enough hole, we looked through to see the lands the gate sought to protect. Torches illuminated small huts that looked as if they were made out of grass and mud. There were pits everywhere, like they dug for minerals or stones in the dirt.

“It’s nearly dawn.”

“Let’s wait here until nightfall.”

Ian dropped his pack and took a seat, pulling out his canteen to have a drink.

I continued to stare into the unknown world, unsure what we were about to see once the sun came up. We sat there for about an hour until it was fully morning, and then people started to emerge from the small huts, clothed in the same attire, torn shirts and trousers. Silently, they all got to work in the pits.

Fully armored guards appeared and watched them silently, wearing armor unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was bright red, the plates covering every part of their body, even their shins. Their faces were concealed too, their mouths covered by the helmet, only an opening for their eyes so they could see. But I could not make out any eyes. The inside of the helmet was too dark.

“The ones in the pit are humans, but I’m not sure about these guys.”

“They’re tall.”

“Really tall…”

One guard stood over each pit, looking into the depths without moving, not shifting their weight or fidgeting. They were as rigid as a plank of wood.

“The humans are prisoners to these guys,” Ian said. “Whatever they are.”

“What are they digging for?”

“Looks like we’ll have to ask.”

* * *

At nightfall, the prisoners went into their mud huts after a hard day’s work, while the guards patrolled down the aisles, swords in their belts, crossbows across their backs. There were only a few of them, so Ian and I could take them out if it was absolutely necessary.

“I don’t think this is a state or a village,” Ian said. “I think it’s just a prisoner’s camp.”

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