Shackles

Ren was sat at the window frame. He sat against the window frame, with heavy eyes, watching the morning bustle pick up. The streets below were calm, with only one or two carts rolling past ever so often. He rubbed his cheek that had a black bruise on it and moved his head to look at the waking others. Hibiki was stretching his arms wide as he sat up and started looking around. Alice was stirring at the same time, slowly opening her eyes. Ren walked over and gave Miyako a small shake. “C’mon, the others are getting up; we need to get up.” Miyako stirred and grunted as she blinked continuously at him. “Okay…okay.” A low groan broke the quiet. Hibiki's hair stuck up at odd angles. He rubbed his face, then squinted at Ren. “Did you even close your eyes?” Ren didn’t move. “A little, but that doesn’t matter.” Hibiki muttered at him. “You’re going to collapse before anyone else if you keep doing this.”

Ren finally turned his head, slow and tired. “It’s fine, don’t worry, there was no sign of the soldier.” The words were heavy. Hibiki didn’t say anything. He just grunted, looking away as if he didn't have the energy for it. Alice sat up not long after, her eyes still red. She didn’t speak. Miyako’s pushed herself up at the noise, calm as if she’d only been pretending to sleep in the first place. After stretching, Miyako wandered around a little, then said flatly, “We’ll eat downstairs. Then we can decide on the plan for the day.” No one argued with her. The inn was already abuzz when they stepped down the narrow stairs. The air was thick with conversation and people having their breakfast with ale on the side. The four sat down at a table in the corner, and the inn lady walked over. “Breakfast?” Ren slid over a dozen copper coins. “The cheapest thing will do.”

She nodded at the request and after 5 mins returned with four bowls of grey porridge. They muttered their thanks, avoiding her eyes, and they ate quickly. Ren forced it down just to fill his stomach. Alice picked slowly, staring at the bowl more than eating. Hibiki was loud with his chewing until Miyako’s look silenced him. For a long time, not one of them spoke. Miyako was the first to break the silence. “We need to be careful, okay? We can’t stay around here, and the jobs only take up so much of our time; we need to find somewhere.” The inn woman was wiping a table close enough to hear.

She walked over and started wiping their table of a bit of spilt porridge. With a low voice she spoke to them, “If you need somewhere quiet? Then you’ll want the orchard. The east quarter, past the washhouses, was full of trees once. It’s all dead ground now; no one touches it.” She leaned closer, voice even lower. “Not dangerous or anything, but forgotten. Grew up near there myself. You’ll be left alone.” That was enough. Ren gave her a quiet thanks, and she returned to her cloth without another word. After their breakfast they stacked the bowls and left the inn, being careful to check for anyone following.

The orchard wasn’t far, but the streets made it easy to get lost, and it took a while for them to find it. The further they got past the washhouses, the fewer people they saw, just the odd older person doing their laundry. A few stared from doorways but vanished as soon as Hibiki noticed them. The air grew damp due to the amount of water being used. The orchard was visible once they made a turn around a large brick wall, revealing a large cast iron gate barely hanging on its hinges. Overgrown, half-dead shrubbery coated the perimeter, and it was hard to see inside without entering.

Rows of dead trees coated the inside of the large space. The ground was dry in patches, and water pooled in other places. The air smelt rotten. They went further in, stepping on branches and dry leaves as they looked around, Hibiki chuckling lightly as he took the place in. “Perfect, no one’s setting foot here.” Alice stopped in her tracks. “I don’t like this place; it feels wrong.” “Not wrong,” Miyako said, crouching to run her hand through the soil. “Just dead.” She stood, brushing her hand on her clothes. “It’s a good place for practice.”

The air didn’t move there the way it should have. Even when the breeze pushed at the gates, the orchard stayed still, branches refusing to sway, leaves clinging like damp rags. The soil gave under their boots with a softness that didn’t match its dryness, as though it had been turned too often by hands no one saw. Between the trunks, the rows of shadow were too straight, like graves dug and left unfilled.

Ren scanned the area. “There’s no one here, and it’s quiet.” They nodded. “We’ll come back and practise here; it’s safer than anywhere else.” They all agreed and didn’t stay long.

They retraced their steps and found themselves back at the concordium; the hall was chaos. Clerks muttered, and mercenaries slammed coins against desks and argued over contracts. The four slipped in, keeping their eyes down, and went to the boards. It was filled with scraps of work. Killing vermin, hauling crates, watching a gate, all for a handful of coppers. It wasn’t enough until Ren’s eyes caught one nailed higher than the rest. “Escort: Prisoner transfer. From Leren to East Village mines. Guard detail required. Payment: 35 silver talons. Fee: 3 silver talons. Accommodation and return passage to Leren included. 1 guard and 1 administrator will accompany the cart.”

He read it over a few times, but his stomach still tightened. “That’s a big one; we wouldn’t be able to practise today though.” Miyako murmured. “Maybe it’s too big,” Hibiki snapped. “Prisoners? Forced labour? What if the guy’s some crazed psycho murderer with a hidden weapon?” Miyako shot him a glare.

“Thirty-five silver. More than we’ve seen combined. And it guarantees a way back into the city. That’s the kind of job we need.” Ren stared at the paper, thinking heavily about it before turning to the others. “If we take this, we can get some money; we can visit Darius on the way back and still get back into the city without trouble. Didn't we say that we would take a risk, right?” “It takes us away from the soldier too,” Miyako remarked, being swayed by Rens point. Hibiki sighed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s all true.” Alice tried to interject. “But what if something happens out there? What if—” Ren cut her off. “We can’t be thinking of what-ifs right now.” They had all come to a clumsy agreement on the issue. Ren tore the paper off the board, and they carried it to the desk. The old woman, just like the time before, didn’t lift her eyes away from the table as she muttered, “Escort. Prisoner transfer. Fee’s three silver.”

Ren slid the coins across. She counted them by touch, each tap of her finger dragging, then pushed the paper back. “Recorded.” She turned towards the boy at her side and showed him a line on the bounty paper. “Go on, let them know.” He smiled, and without argument he slid off his stool and left through a door on the side near the clerks' desks; within seconds he was gone. She looked at the four of them with a bit of a stare. “You’ll wait here until a clerk fetches you. After that you can go to the prison if you haven't got anything else to collect? That’s where the transfer begins.” Hibiki restlessly asked her a question before anyone else could. “Wait, how long do we have to wait for?” She waved him away without looking up. “However long you need to.” “Now go; there are seats over there.” She pointed at some blue fabric seats in a corner. She didn’t say any more. She just bent her head back to the ledger and scratched out another line.

Hibiki leaned close to Ren, muttering. “Figures. We pick the one job where we get dragged straight to a prison.” As they walked over to the seats, Alice poked Miyako, and she turned. “Miyako, do we really have to…?” Miyako’s reply was sharp. “Yes.” The time dragged on as the breathless boy rushed through the door. He caught their eyes and walked over before sitting down next to the woman. With a cheerful, almost cheeky tone, he gave them the information. “I’ve let ‘em know you’re here; it isn’t going to be long, and you can follow them; they wanna get this done quick.”

After what felt like forever, a clerk in a dark vest came through the side door, his expression sour and condescending. After looking around and seemingly coming to the conclusion that he had the right people, he trotted over to them and looked them up and down. “You four. With me.” They rose quickly, and Hibiki muttered something under his breath but kept moving.

Alice lingered behind Miyako, keeping close and holding a fold of her clothing. They followed the clerk through the side door, down a corridor lined with barred windows that let in soft ribbons of light. After walking, they came to a heavy gate guarded by two soldiers in iron half-helms. The clerk exchanged a few words, showing a stamped contract, then waved the four through. The prison yard was small, contained by high walls with heavy-looking black bricks. A cart stood waiting in the centre, made of solid wood.. A curtain separated the back but for the moment it was wide open, revealing benches on either side and a thick cage deep within. A pair of horses shifted on the other side of the carriage and shouting could be heard in the background.

On the left side of the cart, two more soldiers were tightening shackles on a man slumped against the brick wall. His posture was terrible, with long hair covering his face, wrists already bound in thick iron. The sound of metal clinking against itself echoed around. “Load him up,” another guard barked at the two with the prisoner.

The bound man was raised up and shoved forward, stumbling, then hauled into the cart. He didn’t resist much, but his silence was somehow intimidating; even Hibiki stopped messing around for once. The clerk in black turned to them. “Your job is a simple one. You stay with the cart and keep it moving and at the end of the road, the prisoner goes to the mines.” He handed Ren a rolled piece of paper with a seal on it, not unlike the one Darius had provided. “These are your return papers; you don’t have to come back with the cart on the return trip but you’ll have until the day after to return to collect your pay.

If you run mid-job, if you slip up, or if the prisoner vanishes, the Concordium will know.” His eyes were sharp as he said it, like he’d seen it many times. As he finished his explanation, a guard with long black hair and a young woman in a white robe walked to his side. “These two will handle the prisoner and administration duties; you lot just add the protection, okay?” The large man and small brown-haired woman nodded, one with kindness and one with strength.

The cart creaked as the last supplies were loaded—barrels of water, small bags of provisions, and a small lantern on a hook. The horses stamped in the dirt, ready to move. The driver, dressed in lighter-looking but similar guard gear, hopped onto the front, and the other two escorts got into the back, where the prisoner had been loaded and locked in. The clerk spoke one last time, voice low: “You leave within the hour. Be careful; those roads aren’t safe.” His job now done, he gave them a final stare-down, turned and left towards a door across the yard. They looked between themselves and all smiled a nervous but slight smile. It was nearly time to leave again.