A Thief's Shadow

The Lion

The sunrise that morning was a true piece of art; the brushstrokes were perfect shades of red, pink, and orange, and the clouds glowed magenta. Or it wasn't. He wouldn't know, since there were no windows in the lowest level of the prison. The thief tapped beats on the bars surrounding him. Each had a different pitch, a different note. Over fifty different notes – seven different notes but many different octaves – to choose from and he knew exactly which bar made which note. He'd tapped out several songs for his audience of murderers, though they were more for his own entertainment than theirs.

He'd been in the prison for three days without any sign that he would be interrogated. All he'd really done was sleep. Considering it was a prison, the cells were surprisingly warm. He'd needed the rest. It was a bad choice to allow him to get comfortable before interrogating him. A smart king would torture the prisoner a bit as soon as he arrived then interrogate him. The sweet rest of a prison cell would only be a reward after giving up the information he wanted. Or maybe Thiago was a kind king. He wasn't originally from either of the adjacent kingdoms, so he wouldn't know.

The clump of boots on the long staircase began, just a whisper. So his interrogation would be today. Waiting until the thud of many boots was very close, he stood and leaned against the brick wall at the back of his cell. Five knights, with Cal in the lead, stepped around the corner with keys in hand. Cal carried a pair of handcuffs and grinned. "Hey Smiley! You've got pretty good quarters here. Warmth and straw. My bed's made of straw, too, except it isn't half this warm. Lucky you I suppose. Hands out." Cal was fascinating. He didn't have the egocentric personality of most knights, and all elite knights. He wasn't made for his chosen profession.

As soon as the handcuffs were around his wrists – he only had half a foot of slack in between them this time – the young elite knight unlocked the cell and led him forward. Nero's assassin stared in shock and squeezed in a word of his own before they could leave. "Well look at you! Five elite knights, handcuffs, and a nickname. I only got two normal knights and a rope tying my hands together. Have fun with the torture!" The assassin smirked, but Cal rolled his eyes.

The young knight smiled at him. "As long as I'm around you shouldn't get tortured. Not too bad, at least. Relax." He honestly didn't care, but it was nice to know that somebody else did. He'd been tortured before. It was fairly easy to remove himself from the world and the pain. "So have you made any friends?" Cal looked at him as if expecting an answer. He was making small talk. The prisoner liked him less.

He made a few signs anyway. Accidentally killed one of them. They threw a rock. I threw it back, meaning to knock them out. Their skull cracked. Hopefully that would shut him up. He didn't feel like talking. That was why it was good to be 'mute'. It helped that someone could sign, though, because it was much quicker than writing. Cal went silent after that comment. The other four knights were watching him carefully. They'd probably seen him fight the rogues. He was annoyed with them for not helping, but it had made him well-known. Otherwise the King would have forgotten about him without any interrogation.

The King didn't seem at all wary when they arrived. The elite knights stepped back, but only a few feet. Cal stayed by his side. Right, Cal was going to be his interpreter. He examined the throne room with a mix of curiosity and disgust. Everything seemed to be lined with gold, silver, or jewels. He was a king who overtaxed his kingdom. He had no idea how much the taxes were since he didn't own a home, but any king who wasted so much gold on decoration couldn't be a good ruler. Thiago even looked like a pompous fool. He was a younger man, in his late thirties or early forties, with a knight's build. Gold hair reached his shoulders like a lion's mane while blue eyes glared like a predator seizing up his prey. He had no idea who the real predator was. The thief smiled under his scarf.