Quietly I walked down the dimly lit dungeon corridor. Everything had proceeded better than I could ever have even hoped for. After we had slipped into the city on the back end of a late night caravan we had made our way to the citadel without being stopped. Using uniforms supplied by Rolf, who had adeptly procured them from two permanently resting soldiers outside the citadel, we had made our way into the inner workings of the citadel with comparative ease. Rolf was back up at the other end of the hall waiting in concealment in case, as he put it, 'Any more throats needed slit'.
He was really a peculiarly gifted individual in the art of killing and more than once I was grateful that I had never been put in the arena in a death match with him. Unwelcome memories rose up to overwhelm me, as I remembered the friends that I had been pitted against in death matches. The way the life had drained out of their eyes, as they lay on the arena floor dying was an almost intolerable thing to bear in remembrance.
Stumbling on a loose stone I almost fell, but it helped me to regain my composure and pull me free from a past I wished had never happened. I had banked all my hopes on Larc being in one of the private cells, rather than the main dungeon holding area.
All the cells I had passed were empty except for the one I now stood outside of. Leaning close to the damp wood of the cell door I whispered, "Larc?"
I heard rustling from within the cell, as somebody got up and moved towards the cell door.
"Roric is that you? Get me out of here!"
"Hang on I'll get you out of there, but be quiet."
Drawing back slightly I studied the door. It was old and showed signs of rot in places. The door consisted of vertical planks of wood for the main body of the door with two crosspieces at the top and bottom of the door. The crosspiece at the bottom was soft from rot caused by the continual dampness of the dungeon floor.
I used my sword to pry off chunks of the bottom crosspiece, until it was broken in half in one spot. Then I pushed on the bottom of the vertical board directly where I had chewed the crosspiece board away with my sword. It bent inward, as I put pressure on it. Larc grabbed the board from the inside and pulled as I pushed. The board moved inward suddenly and was accompanied by a loud squeak of protest, from the rusty nails pulling loose in the top crosspiece. I quickly looked around to see if the noise had alerted any of the guards. I paused for a moment and hearing nothing I turned back to the door. Pushing on it once more left a gap big enough at the bottom of the door for Larc's skinny form to squeeze through.