Scoundrel Story Part 2
This is not the full story of course, but I decided I'd post what I submitted for the publication thing. Anyway, I'm going to be finishing this to the extent that I had wanted to at a later time. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Oliver shook his head to clear his head of his stray thoughts. It was often that his mind strayed back to his earlier years, but no...he had to stay in the present. He needed to be focused on the now, and the now was towering far in front of him. The palace of the High King; his destination, and location of what he knew was piles and piles of gold worth of decorations and jewelry and possessions. He had never attempted anything this risky, and he knew it was a death wish to steal from the King. Some thought that the High King was omnipotent, being of the divine status as he was thought to be, but Oliver knew better than to trust superstition.
The night was clear of clouds in the sky, leaving a full, unobstructed moon to shine down on the city, illuminating everything in its cool blue glow. The one thing under this glow that Oliver was concerned with, however, was the palace. It rose above everything else in all the splendor that it was built for. The otter could easily spot the carefully carved designs all along the massive building. The windows were ornately made, often containing entire scenes in the glass. At night, lights were lit inside the structure, and it honestly looked almost jaw-droppingly beautiful. Every window was highlighted with its own mixture of color, and one could see the detailed carvings in the stone. Rumor had it that the palace took literally thousands of years to build. Oliver couldn't even begin to imagine how old that building must've been.
Oliver had never actually been all that close to the palace before, which he supposed was because it looked so intimidating. Just looking at it made him have second thoughts, but no...he wasn't about to turn back now. The path to the palace was an interesting one, and Oliver knew it would be hard to get through. Well...it would be for anyone else, he supposed, but he was a tad different. It was the reason he was so good at getting away from the guards.
The path itself was a straight shot. He'd be climbing the walls of the palace itself, he knew, but there was only one way to the palace: a bridge. A rather large bridge in all honesty. It spanned nearly six hundred feet across a rather wide river. To make things easier, Oliver had considered climbing down to the river, swimming across, and then climbing up the other side. The one issue with that was the current of the river. Thanks to asking around in the alleyways of the city, he knew that others had tried before, some of them strong swimmers, some not. Either way, they would all be swept away. On the surface, the current was visible, but appeared deceptively manageable. It was a deceptive sight that had killed a good few. This left crossing the bridge Oliver's sole option.
The bridge was marked by two checkpoints along its length, complete with one portcullis each, basically a sizeable metal gate that would be dropped vertically to ensure no passage. Two guards were stationed above each portcullis to allow entry control, and in between the two checkpoints was a long stretch of bridge that was basically completely open and overlooked by the guards of the second checkpoint. Past the second checkpoint was where the bridge let out into the massive courtyard. The palace was symmetrically designed in a crescent shape, and right in the exact center, straight through the courtyard, lay the entrance, visible from most any point near the beginning of the bridge, flanked by two sets of stairs that started facing the bridge, and then curved in to a platform which then led to a set of wooden double doors.
After the doors, however, Oliver had no idea what would be awaiting him, and so he resigned himself to climbing one of the walls into a window, since there were no windows near the ground.
The first checkpoint was built to be difficult to approach unnoticed. The guards weren't all that far from the beginning of the bridge, and they had a horn that would be sounded the moment anything or anyone dangerous was spotted, calling a horde to spill out of those gates. However, the creator of the bridge obviously hadn't intended anyone to be foolish enough to approach without permission, and so the space from the beginning of the bridge to the first checkpoint was rather poorly lit. Getting past the sparsely lit bridge was still a tad tricky to pass. As Oliver carefully approached the beginning of the bridge, he could see the guards on top of the checkpoint, peering out into the quiet night. Luckily, the otter's clothing and fur were pitch black. He blended in perfectly with the shadows of the night, and so remained practically invisible as he approached the lit portion of the bridge.
Slowly, mindful of how close he was getting, Oliver reached back to his bow sheath and pulled his bow from its pocket along with a blue shafted arrow. At the end of the arrow was a small ball instead of an arrowhead. The ball jiggled as it moved, but did not burst. The arrow had been an invention of his while he had been figuring out how to take out torches from a range. The solution was somewhat unreliable, as it depended upon Oliver making a rather tricky shot, but practice had reduced the possibility of failure significantly.
The otter nocked his arrow on the string, and he drew the string back, aiming for the right torch. Hopefully, he could make the shot. Otherwise, he'd have to resort to more strenuous means, and he really needed all the energy he could save for the night ahead.
One breath in, one breath slowly let out, and then Oliver released the string, releasing the arrow through the air. It was with extreme satisfaction that the otter watched the arrow hit the material wrapped around the shaft of the torch, and the ball burst, releasing the solution it contained onto the torch, and within the blink of an eye, the torch was out.
Oliver could almost instantly hear something spoken by one of the guards, followed by a rather irritated sounding response. The otter could only assume that one of the guards was going down to check on what had caused the torch to go out.
His speculation was almost instantly confirmed when the portcullis began to open with loud cranking accompanying it. "Shit..." muttered Oliver to himself. He needed to move, and quick!
With that thought in mind, he sheathed his bow and quickly began to move across the bridge, making sure to stay on the right; the side the dark torch was on. Luckily, the first guard was busy with turning the crank, and the other guard was likely descending the stairs, so Oliver went by unnoticed, and was soon pressing against the stone of the first checkpoint, completely shrouded in darkness.
Finally, Oliver could hear the pawsteps of an approaching guard, and he subconsciously pressed himself even more firmly against the wall, as though the extra effort would make any kind of difference. He knew the guard shouldn't see him, and even if he did, Oliver could probably take him down without the guard shouting an alarm.
The guard finally came into sight from around the corner, and Oliver tensed at the sight despite knowing that he was practically invisible.
The guard was a dalmatian dressed in steel armor and holding an unsheathed sword, looking alertly out into the darkness as he slowly made his way forward. Oliver narrowed his eyes at the sight. He couldn't let the guard get too far out or the other guard would see him getting taken down, and this was his only chance to eliminate the first guard.
Dead silent as the night surrounding him, Oliver stepped forward quickly, unsheathing his left dagger. In one smooth motion, the otter brought the dagger around and stabbed the guard straight in the throat, where there was no armor to stop the blow. He heard a faint gurgle, and then silence, as Oliver slowly lowered the canine down and dragged him into the corner that the otter had come from.
"Codladh sámh," He said softly to the body before he stood, sheathing his dagger and making his way around the corner and through the gate. The way the moon shined down, the second checkpoint blocked its light for about half of the length of the distance between the first and second checkpoints.
_ _
Oliver crept around the second corner to find a door left open. The otter could see stairs inside, and slowly, he made his way inside and up the stairs. Up above, he could hear the first guard calling down.
"Where are you Taren?!" He called down, exasperated. Fortunately, he hadn't seemed to catch on that something was wrong. Quickly, Oliver continued up the stairs, albeit a tad faster, considering how long he figured he had before the guard figured out something was wrong. As he made it to the top, he sighted the guard unsheathing his sword, beginning to make his way towards the side entrance to the overlook, straight towards Oliver. For the moment, the otter was shrouded in darkness, but it wasn't long before the guard was going to get close enough to see him.
_ _
That moment came when the guard made it into the side tower that contained the stairs. The guard stopped at the top of the stairs, peering down. Oliver was at the bottom of the stairs, frozen solid in hopes that the guard would get a little closer.
_ _
"Taren?" Asked the guard, taking one step down the stairs. That was when his eyes widened, and he made as though to move towards the doorway. Oliver's body instantly sprang into action, and he bounded up the flight of stairs in two steps. Gripping the wooden railing to his left and pushing off the ground, he vaulted straight over the railing, his right leg swinging over the guard's head and hooking back to catch the canine's throat, pushing him back and away from the entrance.
_ _
Oliver landed just inside the doorway, drawing his left dagger and eyeing the guard dangerously with narrowed eyes.
_ _
"You!" Said the guard with a growl, his grip tightening on the sword handle. He knew who the otter in front of him was, or at least, he knew from the rumors that he had heard from the other guards that had caught glances of him.
_ _
Oliver smirked under his half-mask. He knew he had a reputation, but for someone to recognize him on sight was a little interesting.
_ _
The guard suddenly lunged at the otter with his sword, which Oliver sidestepped quite smoothly before promptly burying a dagger in the guard's upper back while his right paw clapped itself over the canine's mouth just in time to stop a scream of pain. Slowly, but surely, the guard finally went limp, sagging in Oliver's grip. This time, he just let the guard drop to the ground.
_ _
Looking down at the corpse, his only words were, "Codladh sámh," before he sheathed his dagger and made his way down the stairs. The phrase was something that he remembered his parents telling him before bed. It was supposed to be a blessing, meaning 'sleep well', and so Oliver had begun to use it. He didn't normally like to kill, but that night was going to be a bit of an exception. He couldn't afford to be caught, and whether he killed or not, he knew being caught meant death.
_ _
Finally stepping out of the doorway, he looked on down the bridge. He could see the guards of the second checkpoint, and past them, the High King's palace. This was going to be a difficult task, he knew, but one that would set him up for life. It was a thief's dream catch, and he was determined to be the first to succeed. He would show those royals what happened when they kept so many riches for themselves and expected the rest of the city to fend for itself.
_ _
Oh he would show them alright.