176. The Good Dungeon Guide

I stepped into the dark and walked down a long, loamy-smelling tunnel. If I stretched out my hands, I could touch the walls on either side. The musty smell didn’t help either. It was like I was being buried alive very slowly.

“Don’t worry,” said Laney, “it gets brighter.” Behind us there was the sound of footsteps and jangling armour. I estimated half a dozen soldiers had followed us down the hobbit hole.

There were probably other entrances with less claustrophobic passages. I felt like I was being taken in the back door. No, that wasn’t a euphemism. At least, I hoped not.

There was some sort of glow up ahead, and the tunnel opened into a larger chamber with streaks of light crisscrossing all over it. The light came from holes high up on the walls, I presumed in the side of the hill. Slanting beams of yellow sunlight formed a strange light show above us.

Soldiers surrounded me on three sides, but left the way forward clear for me to proceed. I was being herded like sheep.

There was an alcove with wooden walls and a wooden roof, above which there was a thick rope. I paused to examine it and everyone stopped behind me. The wooden box was suspended in a shaft. It was an elevator, although probably not mechanical. More likely there was a donkey on the other end of the rope that moved the box up and down the shaft. Maybe a team of donkeys.

“You want me to get in that? It doesn’t look very safe.”

Laney stepped into the lift and turned around to face me. “You aren’t scared, are you, Dragonslayer?” Her words were laced with all the sarcasm a thirteen-year-old could muster, which was a lot.

I entered the lift and turned around. The soldiers stood in a row, waiting for something.

“Aren’t you—” before I was able to finish speaking, the lift dropped and we were plunged into darkness.

The initial fall was quite sudden and my stomach lurched as I grabbed onto the rail on the wall, but it slowed to a more reasonable pace, and I could feel we were being lowered in a controlled manner.

“Shouldn’t we be going up?”

“The Queen wants to meet you in private first,” said Laney’s voice from somewhere on my right. It was only a small compartment, but so pitch black I couldn’t see her at all.

“What’s she like?” I didn’t know how long the journey to the centre of the Earth would take, but it seemed like a good opportunity to ask a few questions.

“She is known for her outstanding beauty. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman in Flatland.”

Laney didn’t sound in the least bit jealous. If the Queen really was that beautiful, I would have expected at least a little rancour. Beautiful women, of course, were something to be feared.

“She is also the kindest and most generous person I’ve ever met.”

Now I was really concerned. If she’d convinced everyone she was a nice person, then the Queen was obviously even more devious than expected. I would have to play it super dumb and extra pathetic so she would find no use for me whatsoever. It’s not easy having to continually set the bar lower for myself, but I believed I was up to the challenge.

“So kind and generous that she has all the men in her army castrated?” I asked. The lift lurched slightly and I gripped the rail tighter. We were going a long way down.

“Silly. They volunteer.” Sure, why not? It’s not like most men are fond of their testicles or anything. “It really makes a lot of sense when you think about it, Colin. There’s no raping and looting by soldiers in the Requbar army. Just honest killing for which they’re well rewarded. She doesn’t force anyone. Not unless they’re some kind of deviant. Then they get the chop for the good of everyone.”

Very reassuring.

“That’s why Requbar is the most orderly and peaceful of the Four Cities. The people here are all very happy. They love their Queen and their city. Just look how clean the streets are.”

That hadn’t been my impression. People living under fascism wear a smile and have terrified eyes. That was the vibe I was getting from Requbar — clean, well maintained and one complaint away from a mass beheading. I wouldn’t fucking litter, either.

“If she’s so wonderful, how come she hasn’t agreed to help you take back Fengarad? I’d have thought it would be in her interest to help, you know, before the ravaging hordes turn their attention in this direction.”

“It’s complicated. Politics.” Laney sounded less sure of herself now. “It’s not really something I have much experience with, but I’m learning. And now that you’re here, I’m sure she’ll be much more agreeable. We will make her see reason, Colin. You and I. There is nothing I won’t do to liberate my city.” Laughter filled the black box. “Those lizardmen are going to be so sorry. So, so sorry. It’s going to be fun, Dragonslayer!”

Insane as she was, I started to see Laney’s plan. Build me up as a mighty hero, slayer of dragons etcetera, so they get all excited, and then get everyone to form up behind me as we marched into the valley of death. Well, sod that for a game of soldiers.

Light returned as the lift stopped with a jerk at an opening. The tunnel ahead of us was lit by torches held in sconces, flaring brightly and smelling vaguely of wax.

“This way.” Laney set off without waiting for me.

There was no one else about and no sounds. We were deep below the ground, and if things went tits up, getting out wouldn’t be easy.

The tunnel ended in a large room with many doors all in a row, spaced out at regular intervals. The doors looked solid, reinforced with black iron. I hoped it wasn’t some kind of test.

Behind one door is the Queen, behind each of the others is a tiger. Good luck, Champion!

I always have terrible RNG with those sorts of things.

“This is the one, I think.” Laney walked up to one of the doors and heaved. She really had to lean back to drag it open. She went inside.

I followed her and found myself in a very small room. There was a wooden bed; a table with a guttering candle and vase with fresh flowers; and a bucket in the corner.

My feet were swept away from under me and the room spun around, or rather I spun as I ended up on the floor. There was a slam as the door closed, followed by the click of a turning key or maybe a padlock snapping shut. I hadn’t really paid attention to the door fittings.

I lay there realising I was in a cell. A cell with nice flowers, but still a cell. What I couldn’t understand was why they had gone to such great lengths to lead me down here. It would have been much easier to tie me up and drag me here. It wasn’t like I could have fought off an army of highly trained soldiers. Or even a single poorly trained one. What was the point of all the subterfuge?

“There you go,” I heard Laney muffled voice through the door. “Delivered as promised.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness. The Flowers of Requbar are in your debt.” The second voice sounded like Primus Lofty. She had probably taken a different route down here. “I will inform the Queen of your assistance in this matter.”

“See that you do! I’ll be expecting a favourable response to my request.”

For whatever reason, the Queen wanted me locked up, and Laney helping out gave her some political leverage. She really was learning how to get things done on the hill. Or under it. I had been so busy being suspicious about who I was going to see, I forgot to be suspicious about who I was with.

“You had no problems?”

“Of course not! I don’t know why you think he’s some mighty wizard, he was completely harmless in my hands. Nothing to it.”

I slowly got to my feet. The bed didn’t look too bad, and the flowers were a nice touch. I should have been panicking, dreading what they had in store for me, but I wasn’t. If they were under the impression I was some great sorcerer, then they would at least be a bit cautious around me. You don’t want to cut off the balls of someone who might make things explode when they got upset. And you know a really good way to upset a guy? Amputating his junk.

I can’t claim to be an expert. I’ve only been held captive in three or four underground cells. They may well have been untypical as far as dungeons go. But I will say that my room under Requbar was not unpleasant.

It may not have had all the facilities of one of those swanky dungeons with en suite iron maiden and chains conveniently hanging from the ceilings, but you could do a lot worse.

The bed was a flat piece of wood on four legs. No mattress, no blankets. Not exactly luxurious, but excellent for correcting the posture of a slouch like myself.

Meals were served twice a day. Bread, cheese and water. Simple and nutritious. A tray was passed through a slot in the bottom of the door by my jailer, who I never saw. The same slot was used to swap my bucket every morning. If you think having a bucket to do your business in is uncivilised, I would disagree. Not only were my slops removed every day, but the emptied bucket I got back had a fresh bouquet of flowers in it.

Normally, I would consider fresh flowers in a vase to be pointless. Ripping up plants so you can put them inside your house to look colourful and smell nice for a few hours before they wilt and rot isn’t my idea of high culture. If you really derive pleasure from flowers, stick your head out of a window, you pretentious fuck.

However, I will admit that having a fragrant bouquet in a small room where there’s a bucket of shit in the corner is an excellent idea. The large leaves adorning the long stalks also came in handy.

Whoever the warden of this prison was, she was doing a bang up job. And I wasn’t assuming the warden was a woman because there were flowers in my cell. I was assuming it because Requbar seemed to be a matriarchy with women running everything, so why not the dungeons?

For two days I was left to my own devices. It was a little boring, but I didn’t mind that. At least nobody was trying to kill me. The first night I did feel a little nervous after all the talk of a rat infestation. If they were going to turn up anywhere, you would think a deep, dank dungeon would be top of the list. I fully expected to wake up to find a big fat rat sitting on my chest. Consequently, I found it hard to get much sleep.

There were no rats. There was no dripping water and no slimy mould on the walls. It was a three star dungeon by anyone’s standards, and from now on it would definitely be the standard against which I would measure all future penal institutions. Also, the lack of anal rape was a very welcome feature I hoped all prisons would adopt.

All in all, it was a very progressive and nicely maintained facility. Certainly the best I had encountered. 5/7, would happily be incarcerated again.

After my first restless night (I assumed night, although it was hard to tell with no windows) I got some solid rest. I measured time passing by the changing of the bucket, and kept myself busy doing a little exercise (managed ten push ups on my first go!) and some light meditation. The meditation was very relaxing even if I had no idea what I was doing, and the push ups left me very sore on the inside of my elbows. Left there for long enough, I could have really improved myself.

With a clear mind and no responsibilities, I was able to practise some magic and try out some new variations on the flaming hands that had so far proved fairly ineffectual. If I could get the flames I produced to be actually hot while not setting myself on fire, there might even be some useful application for it. I was approaching a breakthrough (I’m pretty sure) when I was interrupted by a knock on my door.

I’m not sure what the knock was for, I could hardly say, “Come in!”, but some sort of reply was expected.

“I think you’ve got the wrong door,” I shouted from my comfortable position on the bed. “The leather club’s two blocks down.”

There was a pause, and then a small, contrite voice said, “Colin? It’s me.”

“Is it important, Laney? I’m very busy at the moment.” Whatever it was she wanted, I couldn’t imagine it would be to my benefit. I was already confined to a cell deep underground, so things were unlikely to get worse, you might think, but that’s where you would be wrong. They could be oh so much worse.

“The thing is...” Her voice was quite low, and the six inch thick oak door didn’t help with acoustics, so it was hard to hear her mumbling. “I... I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Okay, then,” I shouted back. “Thanks for coming.”

––––––––

“Will you listen?” Her voice was a little louder now. “I didn’t have a choice. They were going to lock you up anyway. At least if I helped them, one of us would get something out of it.”

Her logic was unassailable. As long as she benefitted, what was there to be upset about?

“Good point, Laney. All the best, then. I have to go, now. I’m going to spend the rest of the day inventing yoga, and then teaching it to myself.”

“Stop being so unreasonable! I said I was sorry, didn’t I? That’s why I’m here. I’m going to help you escape, you understand? I’m going to get you out of there.”

There was a pause. I waited.

“And then, to pay me back, you can help me retake Fengarad.”

There it was. No surprise at all.

“She turned you down again, didn’t she? You went to all the trouble of betraying me, and you didn’t even get rewarded for it. What a gyp.” I got off the bed and walked to the door. “And now you expect me to be grateful for helping me out of the cell you put me in. Somehow in your mind that would mean I owe you a favour.”

I was right up against the door now, pointing my finger at it like the door was the one I was arguing with.

“Owe you? You getting me out of here wouldn’t even make us even. When you stab someone in the back, pulling the knife out doesn’t make you quits, you horrible little child. I don’t want your help, thank you very much, and I certainly don’t want to be part of any army led by you. Go round up some six-year-olds, maybe they’ll be impressed by your nonsense.”

There was a long pause, so long I thought she’d stormed off. I turned around to go back to my sitting lotus. Someone had invented yoga from scratch, no reason why I couldn’t, too.

“That’s not fair,” said Laney, very quietly. “I’m not a child. The day I escaped from Fengarad, I vowed—”

“Boring!” I shouted at the door.

“Colin, please I’m trying to explain.”

“Does your story have dragons in it?”

“No.”

“Huge worms that burst out of the ground and eat people whole?”

“No. There was an army of lizardmen, I set their whole camp—”

“Boooring. I’ve fought lizardmen flying on giant wasps. Have you?”

There was a pause. “No. No giant wasps.”

“Do you really think people are going to write ballads about your dull adventures? Nobody wants to sing a song about a princess who went for a ride on her pony. Come back when you have better stories to tell.”

“The day I left Fengarad—” she was talking fast so I wouldn’t have a chance to interrupt “—I swore I’d reclaim my city, and I will.” There was a thump against the door. A small but determined fist. “I’ll do what I have to, and I won’t apologise for it. And when I ride into the city at the front of my army, no one will call me a child, or I’ll put them in a catapult and fire them over the wall!”

She was a mental case. Normal rules of decency, responsibility or sanity just didn’t apply.

“Well, you better have a lot of catapults because a lot of people will need sending over the wall, you fu-uh-cking child. Now go away and don’t come back,” I shouted at the door. “And if you do come back, at least bring chocolates. Or some grapes. Toilet paper will also be acceptable.”

There was another pause. “Colin...” she said in a sly whisper. I didn’t like the sudden shift in tone. “Colin, Colin, Colin. The real question is, do you want to get out of there? Do you, Colin? Because I’m the only one who can help you.”

She may well have been right. It was highly doubtful the rest of my party knew where I was or had the ability to aid me even if they did. Laney was my only hope.

I preferred to remain hopeless.

“Actually, I quite like it here. First time in ages I’ve had some peace and quiet. My only complaint is the lack of washing facilities. Let them know if they let me have a shower, I’ll consider bumping up their rating by half a star.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you suffering some kind of breakdown?”

She was calling me nuts. Her! Calling me! Unbelievable.

“Just go plan your little war and leave me alone. I don’t want to help you, I don’t want to follow you. No one does.”

“It’s because I’m a woman, isn’t it?”

“No, Laney, it’s because you’re a child. A child! A child! A child!” I was banging on the door as I screamed it over and over. Perhaps I was losing it, but I didn’t care. When you’re faced with solitary confinement for the rest of your life, perhaps embracing insanity is the smart play.

I waited for her reply, but none came. After about ten minutes I returned to the bed and sat down cross legged. If I got really good at meditating, maybe I would learn to levitate. Back home I’d have found the idea ridiculous, but here it might be possible. I had plenty of time to find out.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. It was the only thing I knew about meditation — in through the nose, out through the mouth.

There was a scraping sound. I opened one eye. Everything looked the same. There was another scrape. A stone in the opposite wall moved. It wiggled from side to side and drew back into the wall until it disappeared, leaving a fist sized hole.

“Ho there, fellow prisoner. How you doing?” said a jovial male voice.

“Not bad,” I said. “How are you?” No harm in being polite.

“Oh, can’t complain.” An eye appeared through the hole. “So... couldn’t help overhearing. Seems like you and the missus had a bit of a bust up.”

“She isn’t my missus, she’s just the idiot who got me locked up in here.”

“Sounds about right. My missus did the same for me. Ho hum, so it goes. Me and my mate — say hello, Marv.” There was a muffled grunt in response. “That’s Marv. Doesn’t say much but he’s a good lad. Anyway, we were planning on breaking out of here. We’re the rebellion, you see, fighting the good fight. Wanna come? Room for one more.”

Judging from what he said, the rebellion was made up of two guys.

“I’m okay, thanks. I’m just going to hang out here.”

“Fair enough. Have a good one.” The stone began sliding back into the hole.

I didn’t know anything about these guys, so I was hardly qualified to judge, but they certainly knew how to take no for an answer. Not the most desirable quality in a rebel.

The stone was almost back to its original placement when it was suddenly pulled out again.

“Oh, one quick thing. I don’t know what you’re in for, but at some point they’re probably going to offer you the option of getting out of here if you volunteer for the army. Bit of friendly advice, don’t volunteer. It may sound like a good deal, but take my word for it, you’ll be giving up more than you think. Not saying I know what’s best or anything, I’m in here just like you, after all, all I’m saying is don’t sign anything without reading the fine print. That’s just good advice all around. Okay then, be seeing you.”

“Hey, thanks,” I called out. It was a relief to hear someone give good advice and talk plain common sense for once. I’d had quite enough of talking to crazy people.

The stone popped out one more time. “No problem. Anyway, got to get on. We’re destroying the city tomorrow and I don’t want to be late. Sorry to disturb, enjoy your rest.”