Zero
Chapter Four
“What was that?” Tyrol asked suddenly.
Argyle looked up from his fourth mug of firebrew, eyes glazed over. “What?”
“I think I heard somethin’.”
“Just the wind,” replied Stoyan, taking a ginger sip of his first mug. He didn’t have the same tolerance for alcohol that the big man did. Tyrol still had half a mug left, but he seemed content just to sit back and take his time.
“Maybe,” Tyrol said dubiously. “But maybe I should check on the prisoner, just in case.”
“I tied them ropes myself,” Argygle. “Ain’t no way he’s gettin’ free of them.”
“We shouldn’t underestimate this guy. Somethin’ about him is... it makes me uneasy.” Tyrol glanced down the hallway.
“The Agents will be here once the blizzard lets out,” Argygle replied. “I say we take our turns on restin’, with someone watchin’ the prisoner at all times.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Tyrol offered.
Argyle lurched out of his chair after downing a fifth mug of firebrew and went down like a sack of bricks on one of the cots in the adjacent room. Tyrol and Stoyan shared knowing glances.
“Wake me up for the next watch. I suspect Argygle won’t be doin’ nothing for the next few hours.” Stoyan pushed his chair back and disappeared into the room where Argygle was snoring loudly.
Tyrol cleared the mugs from the table and placed them on the side. He pulled a bread roll from the cupboard and bit into it. Stale or not, it filled his stomach and he ate it quickly. He glanced back at the hallway leading to the holding cells. Everything seemed silent, aside from the snoring, but something pricked at Tyrol’s consciousness. He wanted to check on the prisoner and ensure that he was still locked up. This man was greatly sought after by the Agents; he would hate for him to escape.
Stoyan and Argygle were more laid-back than him. He was the one who worried constantly. But sometimes it benefited him. He moved toward the cell block where the prisoner was being held, hand unconsciously at the hilt of his sword.
He stopped in his tracks when he noticed that the cell door was wide open. He only had time to curse under his breath before there was a sharp pain at the back of his head, and darkness swallowed him.
Argyle looked up from his fourth mug of firebrew, eyes glazed over. “What?”
“I think I heard somethin’.”
“Just the wind,” replied Stoyan, taking a ginger sip of his first mug. He didn’t have the same tolerance for alcohol that the big man did. Tyrol still had half a mug left, but he seemed content just to sit back and take his time.
“Maybe,” Tyrol said dubiously. “But maybe I should check on the prisoner, just in case.”
“I tied them ropes myself,” Argygle. “Ain’t no way he’s gettin’ free of them.”
“We shouldn’t underestimate this guy. Somethin’ about him is... it makes me uneasy.” Tyrol glanced down the hallway.
“The Agents will be here once the blizzard lets out,” Argygle replied. “I say we take our turns on restin’, with someone watchin’ the prisoner at all times.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Tyrol offered.
Argyle lurched out of his chair after downing a fifth mug of firebrew and went down like a sack of bricks on one of the cots in the adjacent room. Tyrol and Stoyan shared knowing glances.
“Wake me up for the next watch. I suspect Argygle won’t be doin’ nothing for the next few hours.” Stoyan pushed his chair back and disappeared into the room where Argygle was snoring loudly.
Tyrol cleared the mugs from the table and placed them on the side. He pulled a bread roll from the cupboard and bit into it. Stale or not, it filled his stomach and he ate it quickly. He glanced back at the hallway leading to the holding cells. Everything seemed silent, aside from the snoring, but something pricked at Tyrol’s consciousness. He wanted to check on the prisoner and ensure that he was still locked up. This man was greatly sought after by the Agents; he would hate for him to escape.
Stoyan and Argygle were more laid-back than him. He was the one who worried constantly. But sometimes it benefited him. He moved toward the cell block where the prisoner was being held, hand unconsciously at the hilt of his sword.
He stopped in his tracks when he noticed that the cell door was wide open. He only had time to curse under his breath before there was a sharp pain at the back of his head, and darkness swallowed him.