Chapter Three—Ride Fast

“What do you mean he’s not here?!” Shiro yelled. He slammed his scimitar across the top of a wooden table, the heavy—and sharp—blade cutting completely through.

The guard yelped. “I am sorry!” He sunk to his knees. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Tell us where you have taken Ali al Bashur,” Debaku said calmly. “If you do so, we will let you live.”

The other guard nodded vigorously. “They have taken him from here. In a wagon!”

“Where?” Shiro demanded.

The other guards that had been in the cell blocks during the attach had surrendered quickly. To keep them out of the way, Shiro and Debaku had locked them in the cells.

“Your friend Ali is being transported to Kosskal,” the man said. He scratched his face. He knew they would let them live if they assisted them, and so his fear seemed to have gone out of him. “But you must know, this prison… this is not a true prison. They will—“

“Torture him there,” Debaku finished for him.

The guard nodded. “Yes. Gohgha prison is a temporary prison used to house criminals from Darshuun for a short time before they are moved.”

“Can we catch them?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” the guard said, nodding. “Come.” He took them into the administrative building. Within the drawers he riffled for something. After moment he took out a map and laid it over the table. “It hasn’t been long since he was moved. Maybe… two hours ago?”

“Two hours?” Shiro repeated in surprised.

We have only just missed him.

“Yes. They went along this route around the mountains.” He pointed at the map. “Do you see?”

“Yes.”

“If you take these paths over the mountains, you can lead them off before they make it to Kosskal in the mountains above Darshuun.”

“It’s not that far from the city,” Shiro said. “Why did you not take him there in the first place?”

The guard shrugged. “I am just a guard here at this prison. I do not make the orders.”

“Fine,” Shiro said. “Do you have camels?”

“We have better,” the guard said. “We have horses. They will take you over the mountain trails much faster. They’re not rough trails.”

Shiro nodded.

“Then it is time for us to go.”

“Then, my good masters, let me take you to the horses.”

They saddled the animals quickly. Before leaving however, Shiro moved the two guards into the cells and locked the doors behind them. He then left the keys in the corridor.

Once someone came along, and that would happen before long, then he could let the guards out of their cells. Shiro had no want to kill them. He did not kill wantonly. But when he had to kill, he had little remorse afterward.

Before taking his horse—a dark brown animal with a white spot on its head—he went back into the administrative building and took the map.

Just in case, he thought.

But before mounting, he went to the gate and opened it. As he approached Debaku on his horse, he stopped and sliced a thick piece of well-cooked meat off of the roasting goat, then ripped the meat in half, giving one half to Debaku.

The Black Cobra nodded. “My thanks, Shiro.” He took a bite, the oils from the meat covering his fingers and lips. “It is good.”

Shiro bit down on his hunk of meat and then mounted his horse. Chewing, he nodded, then kicked his horse and galloped out through the prison gates with the Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul at his side.