Chapter 5: Progress Report
The salty sea breeze blew through the iron barred windows, then down into the large mess hall of the Parli jail. Sea birds could be heard flying around the high walls, squawking their disapproval of not finding the usual food set out for them by the jail’s cooks. The noises added to the bleak appearance of the mess hall. All tables removed, the hall stood completely vacant. The walkway used for its aerial view of the hall, about half-way up the high brown walls, was strangely void of guards. Its metal railings, usually vibrating and clanging from hits by wooden rods, now stood completely still.
The stillness inside the hall would not last as a tall thin man walked in. The tall man’s plain yellow tunic was replaced with a blue tunic that hung too short, just below his waist. Under the tunic he wore tight white cloth pants too small for him, ending below his knees. The man continued into the hall until he was directly in the center of the empty room. He stood in that spot for several minutes, before walking around the perimeter, looking in all directions, and occasionally stopping to kneel down and take in the view from the floor. As he did this, footsteps could be heard from the hall, before another man entered.
“Master Oldo.” The man called from the threshold of the hall.
Oldo stood up and peered over to the man who wanted entrance. “Come in, Gyrd, I have been waiting patiently for your return.” Oldo’s voice was low, soft, almost soothing.
Gyrd jogged over to where Oldo was standing, his shoulder length black hair bounced behind him. Gyrd still wore his plain yellow prison uniform, sleeves rolled up, revealing crudely made tattoos that littered his arms, most having no actual design, just splotches and random shapes.
“I have news, sir.” Gyrd said through dirty, and in some places, missing teeth.
“Were we successful?” Oldo asked.
Gyrd nodded his, eyes wide, his mouth curled into a rather distasteful grin. “Yes sir, my crew and I have taken the first rose. I was the one who actually removed it. The others were not in the region at the time, as you requested.”
“Which region?”
“The Merchant.”
Oldo nodded slowly, “And where is it?”
“My crew is currently taking it to the desired spot that you picked out for them.” Gyrd answered, smiling wider now then ever.
Oldo continued to walk around the hall, once again looking around at the walls and at the floor. “What do you think? Do you think I should put the statues in here, create a museum for the future?”
“Uhh, sir, we did not bring back any statues.” Gyrd whispered nervously.
Oldo spun around, his eyes suddenly hard; his mouth in a grimace, but still his voice remained soft. “I realize that, but I am planning to eventually bring some here. Do you think this is a good spot for them?”
“Oh, yes indeed sir, absolutely, sir.”
“Stop saying ‘sir’. I am not anybody’s ‘sir’, alright?” Oldo said while continuing his walk around the big hall.
“Yes, s—I mean, yes.”
Oldo walked completely around the hall, while Gyrd stood still near the back wall. Gyrd watched Oldo, wringing his hands nervously the entire time. Once finished, Oldo motioned for Gyrd to follow him to the entrance.
“Let’s take a walk, Gyrd, I want to see somebody.” Oldo declared as Gyrd now stood beside him.
“Yes, let us do that.”
The two exited the mess hall into a large hallway covered by bricks. They ambled through the corridor side by side until they reached a wooden door about half-way down and to their left. They entered and started up a large metal staircase that twisted and wound its way up to the very top of the prison, eighteen stories above where they now stood on the ground floor. There were landings on each floor. The two recently escaped inmates exited the stairs on the seventeenth and final floor of cells. They marched down the black hall, peering into each of the metal barred cells, now all empty, until they made it to one in the middle of the seventeenth floor. This particular cell was not like the others on the floor. This one had a concrete door with a small metal rectangle at about eye level for Gyrd, below eye level for Oldo. Gyrd grabbed the handle and pulled at the metal slot until it was half-way open. From there Oldo reached inside and grabbed a handle that was just below the slot, and also grabbed a handle on the outside of the cell. He twisted them both upward, and the door slid open. The cell was entirely made of concrete; its walls were rough, concrete protruding awkwardly. There were no lights in the cell, and the man who currently rested on the hard, uneven floor, put his hands up to shield his eyes from the bright light that washed in. The man on the floor wore a yellow tunic much too big for him, his hair matted down, his face covered with sticky dry blood, he looked like a real inmate of that prison.
“Hello, Mr. Guard, how are you today.” Oldo asked blissfully.
The man did not answer, but he did unveil his eyes to the light. Squinting he took a look at the two in the doorway.
“Talk, fool.” Gyrd ran towards the guard in the cell, but Oldo caught him by the neck just in time and pulled him back out of the cell. Then he entered the cell himself and closed the door from the inside, leaving Gyrd to look in from the hall.
Oldo kneeled down beside the guard. “I have a question for you—well actually it’s more of an offer for you.” He paused to see the effect of what he said on the guards face, it had no effect, Oldo continued, “I want you to join our cause here, give up this idea of nobleness that you have and,” Oldo picked up a metal dish that lay beside the guard, “we will give you food. How does that sound?”
The guard never looked up, “Convicts uprising in a jail, jailing the guards. It’s never been done before. You probably even put the cooks in these.” He pointed to the floor of the cell.
“Join us, once we get all the roses I’ll let you go, even back to the island.”
The guard still did not look up. “Convicts uprising in a jail, jailing the—”
Oldo brutally grabbed the man’s throat, tilting the guard’s head back till he was looking directly into his face. “If you do not join us you will . . . you will . . . die in here.” Oldo was not accustomed to using the word ‘die’.
The guard looked directly into Oldo’s black eyes. “You will never get all the roses, they are too well hidden.” He choked under Oldo’s grasp.
“Really,” Oldo tightened his grip on the guard’s throat. “We already have one, and one coming soon.”
The guard sputtered several times before he was able to speak, “Four out of five will not give you an empire, the last is hardest to find.”
Oldo relaxed his grip, “I take that challenge.”
“You will never convince criminals to join you.”
“Won’t I? Everyone knows those in here never get out. They have nothing to lose and so much to gain.” He slammed the guards head against the floor and got up. Twisting one handle while Gyrd twisted the other, the door slid open and Oldo slipped out, slamming the door once on the other side. “I will return when I have all five.” With that Oldo slammed the metal slot, leaving the guard in complete darkness once again.