The run-in with the level 35 lieutenant engineer worried me about hitting the debtor’s prison. We weren’t in a warren of hidey-holes where we could duck into a sewer at the first sign of trouble. And with seventy-some refugees behind us, we’d be slow and easy to find.

  Fabulosa shrugged off my concerns. “You forget we cased the joint already. They’re not fixed to repel an assault. We saw them during daylight hours and spotted only one guard on the entire tour.”

  Lloyd nodded and looked back at us. “We pretended to shop for manual laborers.”

  Fabulosa rubbed her fingers together. “After showing them enough money to buy debt, they gave us the run of the place. The rear entrance is the softest target. It faces a backstreet with a long stairway near the Underworks entrance.”

  Lloyd pointed downward. “No one considers the Underworks a safe harbor. The bounty hunters will hound the local streets and Dark Harbors.”

  “Is that our boat’s location?”

  Lloyd led us to the building’s backyard. “No, sir. It’s waiting near the river, where the Dark Harbors begin. That’s where we’ll exit the Underworks.”

  The prison’s rear entrance opened far enough off the street to allow carts to make deliveries and haul away refuse. Decaying rubbish and old crates flanked the entry. Oddly, the garbage didn’t smell as bad as I expected.

  When we saw the back door stood ajar, Fabulosa gave me a quick look. “You see? This is going to be easy.”

  We heard someone in the kitchen working on a morning meal. Through the boarded-up windows, an NPC whose nameplate title read Indentured Servant spotted our approach. They spared us a glance before returning to stacking pots and pans. Half a dozen workers went about various kitchen duties, none of whom reacted to the strangers entering their workspace.

  Fabulosa and Lloyd walked right past them into a dining hall.

  I raised my voice to address the staff. “I’m the governor of a new settlement between Fort Krek and Basilborough. We’re offering amnesty to anyone who wants to join our town. We’ll provide food and shelter until you want to leave. You’re under no obligation to join us.”

  The gaunt laborers looked at each other, seemingly afraid to speak. At our entry, a few wrinkled their nose, and one covered their mouth. Repeated dunking hadn’t rid us of our smell.

  I waved at them. “We’re here to free you.”

  They looked apprehensive as if we tested them. A mousy boy holding a bag of raw potatoes found his tongue first. “Do you also mean to free my family, too?”

  “Are they here?”

  He nodded.

  “If they want to come, they’re welcome.”

  A muffled shuffling came from the dining hall, and I could hear utensils dropping and the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor.

  Bernard and Blane hastened to the sound. Before Blane left the kitchen, he addressed the staff. “Excuse us. If ye don’t mind, the L.T. is knocking the frowns off the guards as we speak. This lot freed my kin from a goblin mine. Ye can trust ‘em! As true as touchstone, they are.”

  The prisoners stared at him.

  Another loud crash clamored from the other room, and Blane bowed. “Ugh, thank you, everyone.” He turned and ran into the room.

  The indentured servants seemed dubious, but the proof would soon be self-evident.

  I entered an empty dining hall, where a guard lay prone. Three more unarmed guards made supplicatory gestures in a corner by a barred door. One guard showed Bernard which key to use while covering his nose.

  Fabulosa stood over them, arms akimbo, ready to belt anyone who showed aggression.

  The trio of guards led Fabulosa and the dwarves downstairs to the prisoner cells.

  The boy whispered something into Lloyd’s ear, and the old sailor waved me over. “This brave young buck informs me that the brig in the hall holds another prisoner. The front office fattens them up before the auction.”

  I smiled at the boy. “You take me to them, and I’ll set them free, okay?”

  The child looked down at the floor. “There are guards there.”

  “I’ll take care of them.”

  The boy looked at Lloyd, who nodded in agreement. When he screwed up his courage, he pointed down the hall.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I smiled at him. Although I could see his nameplate, I asked for an introduction. “You are a very brave young boy. What’s your name?”

  “My name is Robin, sir.”

  “Well, Robin, my friends will bring up your family if you wait in the dining hall. Okay?”

  Robin brightened at this news, nodding enthusiastically, and scampered to the dining hall.

  A level 9 guard slumped in the hall’s corner, snoring. Pulling the key ring off his belt awakened him. A hangover reddened his eyes, and he looked like he would be physically sick, so I kept my distance. I felt no desire to cover my boots with vomit.

  The guard studied me, or rather, the weapons dangling from my person. He slowly reached for his water pouch. After I nodded, he took a long draught. He nodded to show both gratitude and assurance that he’d be no source of trouble. It’s impressive how communicative people can be with just nods.

  I opened the three neighboring doors using his keys. Only one cell had an occupant, a man whose nameplate read Nero.

  Nero regarded us with more optimism than Robin. He took one look at us and understood that his luck had changed—to the downtrodden, chaos created opportunities.

  I explained the situation, but he volunteered no information. “Are there other prisoners upstairs?”

  Nero shook his head. “No, sir. Just guards, staff, and company offices.” His curt answer bore the alertness of a seasoned survivor.

  I motioned for the guard to get inside the cell, and he readily, if not happily, complied. After taking another pull from his waterskin, the guard stretched out on a cot and rolled over.

  Nero made a crooked frown. “He’s a guard in name only. That’s guild labor for you.”

  The soft rustling of a crowd drew my attention to the prisoners moving into the dining hall. They looked about as if they hadn’t been in the room before, and it occurred to me that the dining hall served the staff, not the inmates.

  The inmates’ eyes widened, and some held onto one another, but they obediently shuffled along quietly, staying close together.

  Blane and Lloyd directed them through the kitchen toward the rear exit.

  When the debtors spotted me, they stopped in alarm, but Blane encouraged them to move. “He’s okay—he’s the Guv! Ye do not need to fear of ‘em.”

  As prisoners passed, I spoke to the dwarves. “Wait for us in the kitchen. We’ll move out together.”

  Fabulosa shook her head. “There’s no waiting. We need to go. It’s near morning.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Have you explained that they can stay in Arlington if they wish? That we’re not forcing anyone to come with us?”

  Lloyd nodded. “L.T. laid it out in the brig. About ten are falling off to their own course. The rest are keen to hitch up with us.”

  The jailbreak unfolded with less drama than I expected. Once outside, two families broke away and disappeared into the city streets. The rest came with us. We drew glances from the merchants, who were too busy with the day’s beginning to warrant investigation. We became a spectacle for the early morning routine. A few laborers pointed and joked with one another, but most of the shopkeepers paid little heed to the smelly, shabby procession.

  As we waited for everyone to crawl through the clay pipe to the Underworks entrance, Fabulosa leaned close to whisper. “We must smell worse than we think. When I first offered a chance for freedom, they had to think about it.”

  I laughed loud enough to draw stares.

  Fabulosa grinned back. “Only after Lloyd promised they wouldn’t smell like us did they sign on. Seriously, that was a lot of fun. Aside from being buried in sewage, I enjoyed this trip. And that bit about spraying the nobles—could you believe that song? What a hoot!”

  I nodded. “I’d give anything to be in the Two Towers district at midday.”

  Our exodus through the Underworks went smoothly. Lloyd led the way while the rest of us watched for stragglers. I suspected the Unbelievable Stench deterred people from falling behind. I handed out glow stones, so we enjoyed ample illumination.

  Robin nervously watched me while holding his parents’ hands. He seemed to expect something bad to happen or that I might turn on them. Their ragged state made it difficult to determine their age, especially the younger ones.

  A few fugitives carried grains, rice, potatoes, scullery, dishes, and whatever they could find from the kitchen. They gave dead tuskers a wide berth and shot nervous stares at us—as if in astonishment that we’d killed so many monsters. None stopped to investigate the bodies. We moved slower than I wanted through the Underworks, but nothing could help that.

  Hawkhurst’s dwarves had suffered worse treatment than these meek runaways. But the dwarves joked, talked, and argued over stupid things when their caravan left the goblin mine. These humans remained silent and bore strained expressions.

  Some refugees struggled with their loads from the debtor’s prison. When I offered to lighten their burdens, Fletcher stopped me. “Sorry, Governor, but it’s better they carry things themselves. Let them feel like they’re contributing to their liberation.”

  I shrugged and nodded in agreement.

  We grouped up when we reached the edge of a big water-filled basin. It looked like an underground canal with a slow current of clean water.

  Blane saw me amongst the other humans, and I nodded to him. “How’s it going?”

  The dwarf nodded back. “Braw morning, Guv. Lloyd is thumping his chest about his trick. He says if Arlington knew our whereabouts, the engies would’ve flooded this room. He’s blethering rubbish about washing the nobles, but I dinnuh what that means.”

  I smiled at the news, although I could feel eyes upon me. The dark water tunnel didn’t look promising.

  I hated public speaking, but I cleared my throat and spoke up. “Everyone, please listen…” Their expressions made it clear I had already held their attention by leading them to a dead end.

  “Citizens of Hawkhurst receive a swimming boon that makes a water channel like this trivial.” I gestured to the water disappearing around the bend. “To receive this swimming bonus, you’ll need to pledge your loyalty to the town. If you have something bulky or delicate, give it to me, and I’ll stash it into my void bag until we’re on the flatboat.”

  The debtors showed hesitation, so Fabulosa jumped into the water to show how easily she could swim.

  Telling them to turn over their possessions and pledge their loyalty smelled like we were Shanghaiing them, and only a small group agreed. After making bonded promises to be loyal to Hawkhurst, the new citizens jumped into the water and remarked how the swimming buff worked.

  They convinced the herd of our honest intentions.

  With everyone waiting at the basin’s edge, I counted our numbers. Hawkhurst’s population climbed to 64. After accepting loyalty pledges and collecting possessions, the dwarves ushered them into the water. The fugitives received citizenship one by one, raising Hawkhurst’s population. A family of six planned on heading to Grayton after the jailbreak, so we granted temporary citizenship.

  Having everyone convert in the Underworks served as part of our ruse. We wanted authorities to see Arlington’s population drop by the same number of escapees. From a settlement management standpoint, Arlington’s officers would assume the missing refugees had drowned.