In Plain Sight

Part 1 of 2.

In the dead of night he awoke from his dream from the distant sounds of bells. He blinked slowly, regaining his consciousness and focus, drifting in and out of sleep for the first moments.

“Ughh… who’s ringing the bells…”

He took a deep breath, turning on his side, catching a whiff of a smokey scent, his eyes shot open and he jumped out of bed. A thick stench of smoke filled his room. The bells were no longer distant, they were the warning bells of his mansion. He dashed for the door and reached for the handle; his instincts stopped him just in time as the heat radiating off the brass handle warmed his hand few centimeters away.

“Oh… Oh no! Amelia! GUARDS! GUARDS!!” he pounded on the door, shouting.

Distant chatter, shouts, and commotion were deafened by the crackling of fire outside his door. He turned around on his heel, his gaze darted to the bookshelf, “No! No… Amelia, I must save her!”

He made haste towards it, his fingers glided over the books on the 3rd shelf until they reached one labeled ‘My Pledge.’

He poked it at the top and then slid it out. Something clicked inside the wall and the bookcase jerked. As he pushed it out of the way, a cold, fresh air rushed in through the newly opened passage. He swiftly headed inside and pulled the bookshelf shut behind him.

His feet stung as he walked down the cold stone floor in the darkness but he did not care. Minor discomfort was a small price to pay to save a life.

As he exited through a different bookcase into his library, he could see, in the hallway, his servants running for their lives, and his palace guards guiding them. One was quick to notice him and dashed for him.

“Duke Maxwell!? You’re well, thank the heavens.”

The duke shook his head, “No I am not, where’s Amelia!?”

The guard swallowed hard. “Sir, the fire engulfed the stairs leading to her chambers… the guards are trying to put out the flames, help is coming but… we’ve been unsuccessful as of yet.”

The duke gritted his teeth, “Get EVERYONE ON THAT!”

He stormed past the riled-up guard into the hallway. Smoke filled the hallway but the fire was rather distant. Dozens of servants were already waiting outside. Guards were pounding on the doors to awaken those who managed to stay sleeping through the commotion.

He walked down the hallway and up a small staircase that led to a passage to more rooms, and a larger staircase that was engulfed in flames. Half a dozen lightly armored men were pouring buckets on the flames in a desperate attempt to put it out.

“AMELIA!” he shouted. One of the guards turned around and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Sir please stand back it isn’t safe! Get out of the mansion.”

The duke’s focused gaze shifted from the enflamed staircase to the guard.

“Let… go…” He spoke in a cold, stern tone.

“Sir.”

He brushed his shoulder past the guard. Behind him, a few more guards rushed up the stairs with wet towels and buckets.

“Give me that!” he snapped, reaching for a wet towel hanging around the head of one of the guards.

“And this!” He grabbed a sword out of the scabbard of 1 of the guards and swiftly slit the towel in two. Then quickly wrapped it around his feet and grasped another 1 to wrap around his head and face.

“Sir, that’s…” one of the guards began but the glare from the duke hushed him instantly.

The duke dashed forth into the wall of flame. As he ran the guards were quick to react and pour water on him. Another guard bravely dashed after his master.

The flames stung and slashed at his exposed skin. The towels on his feet quickly warmed and the heat was now pinching at his soles, but he gritted his teeth and ran, enduring the elemental onslaught.

Once through the flames, he threw his body against a massive door that led to her chambers. Flames engulfed the wall around. The wallpaper burned as did the trim. The door hardly budged from the duke’s attempt. He coughed from the smoke, but before he had a chance to attempt another body slam, something mighty impacted the door. The guard that followed him, despite screaming from pain and coughing, threw his armored body against the door. It swung open from the impact.

“Amelia!” the duke called out rushing into her room, stepping over the guard.

“Father!?” she called out hesitantly from the corner of her room. He dashed to her.

“Oh my dearest daughter, you’re alright! We have to go.”

She pushed herself tighter against the wall. “N…no,” she protested.

“Amelia!” he called out in an ordering tone, “No time to argue!”

He grasped her hand, pulling her up from the floor and heading for the window.

The guard despite his injuries was quick to act, for his sole duty was to protect the duke and his family. He dashed for the balcony and hit a flare against the edge of the wall. It hissed to life, spewing out red flames and smoke. The night was foggy, and the thick smoke pouring out of the mansion made the visibility even worse.

A shape approached them from the shadows beyond, pushing smoke out of the way, it reached for the red flare.

“Duke Maxwell, Lady Amelia, jump aboard!” called out a man grasping onto a rope of an airship, standing on the edge of the ramp that folded out, holding his hand out.

The guard behind them swiftly leapt up on the window’s sill and helped the duke and his daughter board safely before leaping onto the airship himself.

From afar, enshrouded by fog and shadows, a red-eyed beast was seen slithering through the night.

“It’s the Krade-val!” called out one of the servants pointing his finger up at a massive shape off in the distance. Distorted by heat and engulfed in smoke, it vaguely resembled a whale of legends, a mythical creature that is said to hunt at night.

Morning came and with it the news.

“Breaking news! Duke Maxwell saved by the Krade-val.” called out a boy holding out rolled up newspaper, waving it around.

“Mister! Mister! Duke Maxwell’s mansion’s arson and other breaking news, only in the Bloodmoore Daily!”

A man grabbed the newspaper out of the boy’s hand and tossed a coin at him. A long scar ran down the man’s cheek, decorating his stubble. He grunted without a word.

“Sir is it true that you plan to send a search party after the Krade-val?”

Called out a news anchor, holding out his photo camera, another man beside him with a notebook was prepared to scribble down the answer.

“Correct,” responded the duke, nodding softly. Bandages wrapped around his hands and forehead were obvious hint enough that the duke did not escape the fire unscathed.

“Was it truly Krade-val?” shouted out another man.

“How bad are your injuries?” asked another. The overlapping questions were mostly ignored. In the ruckus of the public announcement and press conference at the city center, one question caught the attention of the duke.

“How can I join the search party?” asked a random man from the back.

“Who said that?” the duke got up from his chair with a painful grunt. “There, please, make way!” He waved the crowd to part way so he could see who asked the question. At the back of the crowd stood someone in an apron.

“What did you ask, young man?” the duke queried, his curiosity piqued.

“I asked – how can I join the search party?”

The photo cameras flashed, questions poured in the direction of the brave stranger.

“Oh my,” the duke replied, clearing his throat and coughing. “Ahem… The party, under guidance of the chief of my security will depart tonight. Your name?”

The man in apron grinned. “Aaron. I’ll join them, if you’d let me, mister?”

The duke smiled, “Duke Maxwell of Bloodmoore, pleasure to meet you Aaron. Why the interest, young man?”

Aaron smiled, “I am a chef, I seek the finest of meats for his royal majesty. I’ve been on the hunt for Krade-val for over a decade, at last my search is nearing its end.”

Duke smiled, satisfied. “His royal majesty’s chef? Of course I permit it, do come to my secondary mansion tonight, as my primary residence, well… burned down.”

The duke’s popularity skyrocketed. Dozens of volunteers showed up at his secondary, eager to search for, and hunt for the Krade-val, a mythical, sky-roaming whale that is said to bring with it dense fog and despair, for wherever he showed, people would disappear at night.

“Breaking news! Duke Maxwell claims he will hunt and end the tyranny of Krade-val! A search party is departing tonight!”

Called out the news boy the following day.

“Excellent performance,” spoke a man in a hood, passing by the duke. Maxwell caught a glimpse of a scarred cheek before the man disappeared into the crowd after another one of the duke’s public appearances and speeches. This one was just after the departure of the search party, and how generously the duke offered to fund additional city guard training and firefighting efforts.

Someone coughed in the crowd, others stepped aside. Blood splattered on the floor.

“Ahem, duke Maxwell, may I?” someone asked but his question fell on deaf ears as the duke glanced at a reporter who spat blood on the ground and then collapsed. The crowd turned unruly. Ruckus and commotion arose.

“Calm down!” the duke called out, limping toward the collapsed man.

He knelt beside him, his exposed fingertips brushed over the man’s forehead and then down onto his neck. The man was breathing fast but irregularly. Blood dripped from his nose.

“Heat stroke, ” the duke announced confidently.

“No reason to panic, stay calm everyone. Aureli?” he called out.

“Sir,” one of his guards responded.

“Take him to my mansion, have the medics treat the poor man.”

The crowd cheers for the good-hearted duke. More news, more headlines. The city council’s meeting went well too. His new hospital’s plans were approved.

“Hear ye hear ye! Duke Maxwell faces unprecedented challenges. Just days after some of his guard force left to search for the Krade-val and his primary residence burned down, there was an attack on his secondary residence,” the boy called out holding a newspaper and waving it. “Duke Maxwell’s daughter is missing as of last night.”

*

“So, you didn’t see anyone?” inquired the city’s detective.

“No, I’ve seen plenty! They were all my people though. I personally know all my servants, I’d instantly notice anyone whom I don’t recognize,” he replied, shooting a glance at one of his guards.

“Right…” the detective noted down. “Around three in the morning you heard a noise?”

Duke nodded. “Like, the sound of something breaking, which turned out to be a vase downstairs, knocked over by 1 of the guards.”

“And the guard saw nothing?” the detective inquired again.

“Well, the guard isn’t blind, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary,” remarked the duke, mockingly correcting the detective.

“I see…” he glanced around. “I’ll examine her room once more.”

The duke got up and nodded slowly, “Yes, my guard will show you the way and accompany you around the residence, my home is open to you. Please, do all that you can to find my daughter. I will spare no resources to aid you.”

*

“Our great duke Maxwell is raising the reward for any information on his daughter’s whereabouts!” the town crier shouted. “It is now a whole 10 000 quel, buy yourself a villa or a vehicle, even a yacht!” he yelled.

The city streets had the duke’s guards roaming it now. The boy glanced nervously into a dark alley where a man was being interrogated by the duke’s guards. They left him a limp mass.

“Ten thousand! Buy the daily Bloodmoore’s today.”

*

“Sir?”

One of the guards entered the duke’s office.

“Speak,” the duke replied, prying his eyes from the Bloodmoore’s daily newspaper.

“We’ve got a lead.”

“Bring it in then,” the duke replied in a stern tone. A moment later two guards entered the room, dragging along a bloodied man. They dropped him onto the floor.

“This one claims to know something.”

The duke got up from his chair and walked around his desk, looking down at the barely conscious man beneath him.

“Speak…” he said firmly.

“Ughh… I… was promised a reward,” the bloodied man managed to utter.

“The reward is your life in this case. Now, speak.”

The man gulped, “Benedict… He… he had a..” the man coughed, spitting blood out onto the floor.

“He has something against you… tall, slender… has a scar on his cheek.”

The duke squatted down beside the man, smiling, “Where?”

“S..spare me and I’ll tell you.”

The duke nodded, “I keep my word, you’ll even be rewarded.”

“Old factory… Southern district…”

Duke glanced at his guards, “Rally all, even those on vacation. Involve the city guards too!”

He got up and fixed his suit. “Reward this fella with good medical care, and his promised ‘reward’ too.”

The man on the floor glanced up, surprised that the duke was being so kind to him. Grateful to receive this care, “T…thank you.”

*

Later that night, duke watched as 30 of his guards, with the aid of almost a hundred of the city’s guards stormed the old factory. The building was massive but the raid took merely half an hour.

“Sir… it’s empty…” the guard reported.

The duke glared at him, “But…?”

“There are signs of a presence of a group of people here. We counted a dozen bunks. The mess hall was recently used too, but they seemed to have slipped away.”

The duke slammed his fist on a table. The loud thud made the guard flinch momentarily.

“Sir…?”

“No… not my Amelia! My Amelia must be here! SHE! HAS! TO BE!” he stormed past the guard.

“We’ll search again!”

And so they did. Maxwell knew this factory, for his reign started out from it. This was his father’s steel production business that he took over.

The factory had several hidden locations and passages that the guards failed to find. They uncovered several locations that were seemingly used for habitat, albeit some of them appeared more like prisons than living quarters, with locks on the outside. An old, rusty door creaked loudly as it resisted being opened. They entered a hidden storage room in the basement of the factory. Illuminated by a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

At the far end of the room, just barely lit by the lanterns, was a hole in the wall, leading to a tunnel.

“Make haste!” Maxwell commanded, dashing into the dark tunnel. His hands traced the rough walls as he navigated the darkness till finally, he came out on the other end into a port’s warehouse.

The metallic doors into the warehouse were closed.

The flour dust was still in the air from the recent haul. In the corners and on bags of flour sat half a dozen people. In the corner sat a girl in cloak, covering her face. Before her on a box sat a man in a hood.

“Got you now!” the duke called out.

“Oh…”the hooded man grunted, glancing over his shoulder at the duke. “Well, shit.”

The duke’s guards poured out from behind him, accompanied by about a dozen men, most of whom were his personal guards he brimmed with confidence.

“By the orders of me, duke Maxwell of Bloodmoore, you’re ALL under arrest. Surrender at once and bring me to my daughter.”

The hooded man sighed, jumping from his box and shaking his head.

“Afraid I can’t comply with your orders, duke of Bloodmoore. Besides, I don’t see any city guards with you, and your private guards have no authority for arrest.”

He stepped into the light. A long scar running down his cheek decorated his face. Duke glanced over his shoulder to see the nearest city guard peel the guard insignia off his armor.

“Surrender now Duke!” called out the young guard. Another did the same.

Of the dozen men accompanying him, the five city guards peeled their insignias off. Swords were drawn. “INSURRECTION! Unacceptable!” the loyal guards called out.

The hooded man raised his arms. A dagger in each hand, “And here you fall into my trap!”

He spoke menacingly. The men around rallied instantly under his lead, drawing makeshift spears, pitchforks, shovels and pickaxes. Swords were drawn in an instant as the guards formed a tight circle around the duke to protect him.

“MY DAUGHTER! WHERE IS SHE!?” the duke shouted, demandingly.

Grunts, clangs. Steel hitting steel and denting armor. A body fell onto the floor, and then another. A sword clattered away from 1 of the fallen duke’s guards. He ducked to pick it up, just in time to avoid an arrow shot at him from above. It ricocheted off the back plate of his guard and pierced a bag of flour to the side. The duke’s gaze darted around the room that from an organized defense turned into a free-for-all brawl as his outnumbered guards scrambled for survival.

The girl that sat in the corner, enshrouded in the shadows, remained seated. The duke remembered the night from a few days ago, the fire, and Amelia’s slender, frail body, trembling in fear, pressed against the corner.

“AMELIA!” he called out, trying to crawl toward her with the guard’s sword in his hand.

“AMELIA!” he called out once more.

Her body jerked and her gaze darted to him for a second, and then she turned away, covering her head, hiding her face.

“Not so fast,” the hooded man spoke, grasping the duke by the collar and lifting him up, following up with a kick to the ribs.

“You won’t lay a hand on my darling,” the duke snapped.

The hooded man grinned, approaching the duke who got tossed against a pallet of flour bags.

“You are a psychopath… You kidnapped my daughter!” The duke glanced to the side where his daughter was cowering, “AMELIA! I’ll save y…” a dagger sunk into the flour as duke barely managed to avoid an attack.

The duke slashed with his sword, but his clumsy strike was easily dodged by an obviously more skilled opponent. A guard charged the hooded man.

“BENEDICT!!!” the charging guard shouted, thrusting sharply with his sword but the strike was avoided.

“Don’t interfere, how rude are you?” Benedict responded mockingly, stepped into the guard, his knee pressed against the guard’s hip. The dagger spun in his hand, glistening in the light, and then steel cried out as it got punctured by the dagger.

The guard gasped. “S…eh…ugh…”

The duke seized the opportunity, he thrusted with a sword at the hooded man while he was distracted.

“NO!” a familiar voice called out to him from the side.

In the blink of an eye, from the shadows a body emerged. A small, frail body that leaped at the hooded man. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body between the blade and him.

The duke’s eyes widened as he watched his sword, the momentum of which he could no longer stop, pierce the thin fabric of her dress, and then her skin. She gasped from pain.

He tried desperately to stop but it was far too late. The sword came to a halt as it hit the other side of her ribcage.

“NOOOOO!!” Benedict cried out. His lips trembled as he watched a tear roll down her cheek. “N…NO! A…AMELIA YOU IDIOT! WHY??”

Her body was surrendering to the darkness fast. But a soft whisper managed to escape her lips. “Only… you… can…”

He fell to his knees, his body trembled. The commotion ceased and the fighting stopped. A meter away stood the duke, staring at his own hands.

“A..melia… N..no…”

The duke shook his head in disbelief, but not in grief, “No… YO…YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER!”

The hooded man glared up. His gaze filled with naught but rage and hatred.

“I…? I saved her! I knew her! I KNEW THE TRUTH!”

His hand slid up Amelia’s frail, skinny forearm, revealing bruises. “YOU! ARE! A MONSTER, DUKE!” He gritted his teeth and in a swift motion, too fast for anyone to react he lunged forth, sinking his dagger into the duke’s chest. “YOU DO NOT DESERVE THIS TOWN!”

The guards, frozen from awe, remained still.

“Gahh…” the duke spat out blood.

“Y..you know n…nothing, fool…”

Benedict watched the duke fall to the floor. “I know the horrors you’ve been performing. SHE told me everything.”

He dropped the other dagger, turning on his heel and dropping to his knees, but it was far too late, for Amelia’s body succumbed to the darkness.

*

“BREAKING NEWS!! WON’T WANT TO MISS THIS!!! Our city’s great and generous Duke!

~Duke Maxwell has met his untimely demise!~

Buy yours today and read the story! What will happen to the Bloodmoore now? Will horrible times befall our lovely town? Who will take over the duke’s riches?”

The boy yelled, waving a folded up newspaper in the air.