Page 10 of The Goblin Twins
“No,” A’bbni said, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I just want to find our way out of here.”
Shi’chen gave him the barest of squeezes back, not wanting to hurt him, then placed one hand on the wall, keeping it there as they moved in the darkness. The wall was rough and unfinished, not like the smoothed stones of the palace, and the ground under their feet felt similar. He had a vague idea of where they might be, but he would not be able to tell until they reached the end of the tunnel.
By the time he saw a faint light up ahead, he could feel A’bbni swaying next to him. The pinprick of light was just visible in the distance, like a single star in an otherwise empty sky. Shi’chen slid his arms under A’bbni and lifted him into his arms. “I can walk,” A’bbni protested, but his voice was exhausted.
“It’s just a little further,” Shi’chen reassured him, and A’bbni relented, curling against his chest. The bit of light grew larger with each step until Shi’chen could finally make out the outline of a door. A few more echoing steps, and he could see the door in the dim light. There was an iron ring handle on it, the rest of the door seeming to be made out of wood. Shi’chen carefully set A’bbni on his feet, then grabbed the ring and pulled. Sunlight flooded into the passage, blinding them both and making them throw their hands up to shade their eyes.
“Captain, Your Reverence,” came a quick, sharp voice. Shi’chen squinted, making out the cloaked and hooded shape of a goblin woman standing nearby. “Quickly, get into the cart.”
They stepped out into the light, which was blinding after their time in the dimness of The Keep and the crushing darkness of the stone stairwell, even though the sun was only barely rising. He vaguely realized that the whole night had passed, and exhaustion was starting to settle into his body. In front of them was a wooden cart with two horses attached to the front, and a cloaked older man holding the reins.
The woman in the hood offered a hand down to Shi’chen, giving him a strong pull up into the wagon bed, then did the same for A’bbni, who stifled a cry of pain through gritted teeth. She then reached down and pulled open a trap door in the bed of the wagon that he had not noticed.
“Lie down in here,” the woman instructed. The space was narrow and not very deep, but it would fit the two of them. Shi’chen helped A’bbni step down into it as he cast a quick glance around, trying to figure out where they were. The stairs had gone down further than the tower was tall, of that, he was sure. And the long tunnel would have taken them out of the borders of the palace walls, just based on the length of it. He could see the Red Canyon not far on the horizon, and when he turned, the walls of the palace were quite near. The door they had exited was an innocuous wooden door built into a wall of finished stone alongside several shops in a dark, seemingly deserted alley. The air around them was heavy and damp with the scent of trash and horse sweat.
He wanted to look around further, but A’bbni had settled on his side in the compartment, and the woman was watching him closely, so Shi’chen stepped down into it and curled up next to his brother. The next moment, the woman had closed the heavy, wooden lid over them, plunging them once again into darkness except for a few cracks of light that showed between the boards. And then, something else was placed on top of it, probably a blanket, that smelled heavily of hay and horse. It smothered all light and made the small space impossibly more oppressive.
A’bbni curled close to Shi’chen in the dark. Their foreheads pressed together, the way they sometimes used to sleep when they were younger. They heard the woman step up onto the cart, then the snap of reigns, and the horses began to trot briskly. Every bump of the wagon over the cobblestone ground seemed to send a jolt of pain through A’bbni. Shi’chen let him cling to his arm, not protesting a bit at A’bbni’s nails digging in his own arm, holding him close like he would never let go. He was shivering, and Shi’chen carefully tucked Commander Ahea’a’s cape around him as best he could, feeling places where A’bbni’s blood had soaked the material.
The cart rumbled to a stop after a short bit, probably at one of the gated checkpoints, he figured. The palace housed the royal family, secretaries, couriers, guards, and servants needed to run the palace on a daily basis, but just outside the palace walls was where the nobility and the richer merchants lived. Many of them came to the palace and its surrounding markets on a daily or weekly basis for business. He could hear muffled words being exchanged, but there were no sounds of violence or protest, and the cart began to move again.
Next to him, A’bbni shifted painfully and tucked his head under Shi’chen’s chin. He hugged him closer, trying to be mindful of his injuries, stroking his twin’s hair gently as the wagon continued to bounce and roll down the streets. The quieter, more refined sounds eventually gave way to the outer city sounds and smells, though overpowered by whatever covered the cart’s hidden door. This was where those not of noble birth or wealth lived. He had not been to this area more than once or twice in his life, and usually only while traveling through it.
They hit a large bump, and A’bbni let out a muffled whimper against Shi’chen’s shoulder. “Shh,” Shi’chen tried to soothe him, stroking his hair again and cursing Hi’jan and their cousin with every horrid thing he could think of.
It felt like hours – though his sense of time was obscured – before the cart suddenly stopped, with more words being exchanged. Then, the cart started up again, but the bump and clatter of cobblestones was now replaced with what felt like dirt. The horses picked up speed, and he could feel them racing down one of the roads that led out of Er’hadin, toward the gods only knew where. The dirt road seemed less rough than the stones, and he eventually felt A’bbni relax in his arms and heard the rhythmic breathing of sleep, which soothed his own tension a little, too. But despite how tired he was, Shi’chen could not sleep.
It was a very long time before the cart suddenly seemed to dip a little, and the texture of the ground changed to less packed earth. This continued for a short time before the cart came to a stop. Shi’chen tensed as he heard someone approaching the back of the cart, but the hidden door was pulled up by the same hooded woman. She gave him a sympathetic smile. “My apologies for the cramped quarters, Captain. We are only stopping for a short break, but we have some food, and you can stretch your legs.”
Shi’chen nodded and sat up, giving his brother a light shake to wake him. The woman helped them out of the cart, which had pulled off the road into a copse of trees, hiding them from the traffic on the road, of which Shi’chen knew there would be much. The older man unhitched the horses and led them a short distance away to a stream for them to drink while the woman steered the twins over to a group of large rocks to sit. Shi’chen saw as she handed them a bag of food that she had a short sword strapped to her hip under her cloak. “You are a soldier,” he commented.
She nodded slowly. “Was,” she said. “I retired several years ago.”
If he had to guess, she seemed to be around their Father’s age, late forties or early fifties, which lined up with the age of retirement for soldiers and guards, who were given a pension to live on after their years of service ended. She looked vaguely familiar, but Shi’chen was fairly sure he had not served with her, and he could not place her.
“What is your name?” A’bbni asked curiously.
The woman smiled again. “I am afraid I cannot give you my real name, Your Reverence, for all our sakes. But you may call me Rell, and him Nen.”
“Do we have you to thank for our rescue?” Shi’chen asked, breaking a hunk of cheese from the bag in half and passing it to his brother.
Rell shook her head. “We are only one of many involved in the rebellion against the crown pr—pardon me, the Emperor. We do as we are commanded.”
“What is the rebellion?” A’bbni asked, being polite enough to wait to ask his question until his mouth was not full of food.
“I cannot give you much detail, but I can tell you that we have been anticipating the young Emperor’s idea of reinstituting slavery for several years. More shall be revealed to you in time.”
“Where are we going?” Shi’chen asked, pulling out a pouch of water and passing it to his brother first.
“The port at Kandrea’a,” Rell said. “We will give you further information upon arrival.”
Shi’chen had a hundred questions, and he knew A’bbni had at least twice as many as he did, but Rell pulled out food for herself and Nen, who also looked vaguely familiar to Shi’chen. Possibly one of the many servants around the palace?
The twins ate eagerly, but Rell stopped them after a bit, warning them to not make themselves sick, as they had not eaten in some time. “Go stretch your legs,” she offered. “Just stay in sight. We have a long ride ahead of us.”
Shi’chen helped A’bbni to his feet, leading him toward the stream with careful steps. “I should look at your wounds, i-sha,” he said softly, noticing several patches of blood that had dried dark brown on the bright red cape wrapped around him.
A’bbni nodded, sitting down next to the water, holding the fabric over his lap as Shi’chen undid the Commander pin that held it and lowered the back. A’bbni hissed softly as the fabric pulled away from where it had stuck to his injuries. Shi’chen flinched, feeling hot tears sting his eyes, but he pushed them back, surveying the damage the knife had done to his twin’s soft, charcoal skin. “Gods, i-sha, I am so sorry.”
