Prisoner

Chapter 19

John Hansson

Clev reached out and knocked on the hard wooden door of the small house. The remaining three of our original party had traveled back to Darmsmoor that morning. Adaryn, who stayed unusually quiet the entire time, had quickly located the home of Tobias Stryker, the alleged escaped convict of the Blackland Prison.

It took a minute, but finally the thick, weathered wooden door swung inwards, revealing Stryker himself. The ex-convict did not look anything like I had expected. He was at least fifty years old with grey hair, which gradually grew white around his temples. Thin horn-rimmed glasses sat low on his nose, enhancing the vision of his grayish-blue eyes. Stryker leaned on a smooth wooden cane topped with a silver ball, suggesting at least one of his legs or hips was injured in some way. It was hard to believe a man like this had escaped single-handedly from a maximun security prison.

Stryker looked at the three of us, one at a time, until his eyes fell upon Adaryn, who stood in the back behind Clev and I. My friend's head was sagging, as if a weight was pulling it downwards. It wasn't hard to feel sorry for him. Styker cocked his head to one side as he examined Adaryn, looking somewhat confused. The silence continued on for almost two minutes. Clevius and I exchanged unsure glances, not knowing if this really was the right man to go to for our problem.

"I am truly sorry for your tragic loss." Stryker finally said sincerely. Adaryn lifted his head quickly, staring at Tobias, a look that showed both fear and pain in his wide purple eyes, which had lost quite a bit of their life and bright color over the last couple of days. It was as if all the life and joy was slowly being drained out of him.

"What did you say?" Adaryn's voice was hoarse and barely audible. Styker smiled a small, gentle smile.

"You have lost someone, have you not? Recently, I persume." Adaryn looked like he was about to pass out. He even swayed slightly. I looked over and saw that Clev's eyes were as wide as Adaryn's in shock. The three of us remained speechless. No one but the three of us and Adonis knew about the death of Venia or Jarve.

Stryker looked to each of us one more time then stepped aside. "Come in, it is cold out." We accepted the invitation gratefully and stepped inside the house.

Minutes later, the three of us were hastily seated around a wobbly wooden table on mismatched chairs. Clev's, whos had only three legs and what appeared to be a garden hoe supporting him, sat uncomfotably on the edge in an attempt to not fall off or collapse.

In the center of the table was a falling apart wicker basket of the hard black bread we had eaten earlier on our journey. Beside it was a tall clear bottle of a dark liquid. Random greens and berries were scattered about the table. Stryker was busying himself about the kitchen, throwing together some sort of meal from whatever he could find. Despite the busy last few weeks, I was not hungry in the slightest.

"You three must have had a long journey." Stryker observed, his back still turned to us. Adaryn groaned and rested his head against the table. Clev looked at him, bit his lower lip, troubled, then looked at the bread in the middle of the table. He looked hungry.

After we had been seated for nearly five minutes, Stryker joined us, bringing a tray of what looked like salted fish covered in an orange goo. He sat between Clevius and I, rubbing his hands together.

"Ah! I never have guests! I do love it, I do." He said. At this, Adaryn raised his head. His eyes clearly said 'I am so done with this'. They were red and bloodshot from lack of sleep.

"We are not guests, you jackal. We mean business, nothing more." He said, his voice both cold and bitter, so unlike what I was used to. Everyone, even Stryker, looked at him in shock.