Chapter 31: To kill an king (part 4)
With that, he followed Ezra towards a run-down bar in the slums of the city. They entered the bar called "The Flask and Sword."
Claude followed Ezra through the dimly lit bar, feeling the weight of curious eyes upon them as they made their way towards the back. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, a sense of secrecy hanging in the air like a shroud.
As they approached the bar, Ezra exchanged a knowing glance with the barman before speaking in a tone that hinted at deeper meaning. "Taking a sip from a flask and swinging a sword in another hand. There is nothing like it."
The barman, a weathered figure with eyes that seemed to hold a lifetime of stories, raised an eyebrow in intrigue. "Why is there nothing like it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It opens the mind towards new possibilities," Ezra replied cryptically, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
With a silent nod, the barman motioned towards a nondescript door marked with the number 13. Without hesitation, Ezra led Claude towards it, his movements purposeful and determined.
Entering the room, they found themselves in a space that seemed frozen in time, untouched by the passage of years. Ezra wasted no time in locating a hidden button behind a seemingly innocuous closet, his fingers deftly pressing it to reveal a concealed entrance.
As they descended into the depths below, Claude's senses were assaulted by the sights and sounds of the hidden chamber. It was vast, stretching out before them like a labyrinth of secrets waiting to be uncovered. At the center of it all sat a group of individuals, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight.
At the head of the table sat an old-looking man, his gaze piercing yet wise. There was an air of authority about him, a sense that he held the answers to questions yet unasked.
Ezra approached the table with confidence, his demeanor betraying none of the uncertainty that churned within Claude's own mind. With a respectful nod, he addressed the figure at the head of the table.
"Ezra, why are you here and who is this?" said one person at the table.
"Allow me to introduce you to someone who shares our vision, Claude," Ezra said, gesturing towards the newcomer.
"Why did you bring him before we can trust him? What if he is a spy?" said another person on the table with venom.
Ezra's gaze remained steady, his conviction unwavering in the face of the skeptical inquiry. "I understand your caution," he began, his voice carrying a note of reassurance. "But call it an instinctive response towards his presence. I know you guys don't trust, and to be honest, I also don't completely know him. I can't do many things, but I'm an excellent judge of character."
Claude, feeling the weight of scrutiny from the assembled individuals, straightened his posture and met their gazes with unwavering resolve. "I may be new to this rebellion," he said, his voice calm yet determined, "but my dedication to our cause is unwavering. I stand before you not as a spy, but as a comrade-in-arms, ready to fight alongside you for the betterment of our kingdom. We will change Neolandia so that justice will be served regardless of social standing. I will change the world. I swear it."
The old-looking man at the head of the table regarded Claude with a measured gaze, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. "Words are easy to speak," he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "But actions speak louder than words. What proof do you offer of your allegiance to our cause?"
"I don't have any proof, but if something isn't done, Neolandia will collapse on itself," Claude explained, his voice steady. "I don't want Neolandia destroyed."
The old man's gaze softened slightly as he studied the parchment, his eyes lingering on Claude. "Very well," he said at last, his tone conceding to Claude's sincerity. "We will grant you the opportunity to prove yourself. But know this – our trust is not easily earned, and betrayal carries dire consequences."
Claude nodded solemnly, a sense of determination burning within him. "I understand," he replied, his voice firm. "I will not disappoint you."
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hayreddin Barbarossa, a former general of the kingdom of Neolandia."