The Beast

Chapter Thirty

Lord Celic brushed aside a blonde curl from his forhead, smoothing out his sneer for a diplomatic smile at the ensemble of roughly thirty men assembled before him, torchlight casting haunting shadows over their rugged faces.

Under normal circumstances, Lord Celic would have avoided any association with these vagabonds at all costs, but these were dire times indeed. Carelessness with his gold had earned him a substantial amount of debt, with no way to pay it off. This was his last resort. To employ such ruffians disgusted him, but no other would join his supposedly reckless effort, especially for such small salary. He was loath to admit it, but these were the only men more desperate than himself. The only thing he could think of to be more distasteful than this situation would be to give up his lavish lifestyle, which was unthinkable.

His only redeeming thought for them was that at least they were expendable. No one would weep for their loss, should things turn south for them. In fact, he found it more plausable that their passing would be rejoiced, the streets being that much clearer of the riff raff everyone wished to avoid like himself.

Lord Celic was not so dense that he didn't give the rumors of the castle dwellers some merit, though a few were quite far-fetched. He doubted there was a creature that could withstand his practiced skills. He had received far too many praises to think of such a possibility.

He reined in his fidgeting steed, the last remains of his previously abundant wealth. It was his ambition this night that it would be rectified, but for now, his meager belongings were sufficient.

"Men," he called out to gain their attention, smoothing his tunic and squaring his shoulders. When they looked at him through vacant eyes, he continued, "You have each been selected for your...specialties. Specialties that will serve the greater good well tonight. For tonight, we take the castle. Tonight, we slay the monsters once and for all, no more to rise against us. Tonight, we will conquer what was meant to be ours."

"We're still gettin' paid, though, right," one called out, others murmuring their agreement.

Lord Celic barely avoided letting his disdain show through his facade. "Yes," He said carefully. "You will be handsomely rewarded for your valiant efforts."

"Well, then wot're we standin' round for," another called out. "Let's get on with it!"

Lord Celic spluttered as the men brushed past him, ahead of his mount, marching up the mountain without hesitation.

Turning his steed about, he followed close behind, hooves and feet grinding and scraping against stone, the sound filling the cool night air, labored breaths soon joining the symphony of the climb up to the castle's entrance. Soon, the came upon the gaping hole of the tunnel, standing hesitantly before the darkness that seemed to swallow all light and hope. Even Lord Celic felt the mists of doubt begin to creep and cloud his mind. Only the shifting of his skittish mount roused him from his turning thoughts.

"Onward," he commanded, dismounting. "Or you won't get your pay."

The threat seemed to awaken the men from their own doubts, or at least helped in brushing them aside as they stared forward in kind.

Torchlight revealed nothing ahead, only illuminating themselves and the tunnel walls that echoed the sounds of their motion dully, like they were walking into emptiness. Still they continued until they reached an end, carved doors looming before them, the fire's light casting eerie shadows that crept along the grooves and crevices that canvased their expanse. Celic himself stepped forward, attempting to push them in, his own strength failing before the mighty doors.

Covering for his failure, he glared at the men standing uselessly behind him. "Well? I'm not paying you for nothing. Open the doors!"

Some of the larger men shambled forward, pressing against the doors with their broad shoulder, opening them slowly, the action reverberating through the group's bones. Lord Celic and the rest each took up their own various stances of offense and defense, anxious for whatever lay in wait for them on the other side.