Free The Rebels' Assault by David Grimstone

CHAPTER I
    THE CHOOSING
    R uma, Argon, Teo, and Gladius were led down from their cell at the top of Suvius Tower, dragged by the jailer’s guards with such force that several cuts and bruises were earned along the way. At one point, Gladius stumbled and fell headfirst down a flight of steps in the tower courtyard. However, rather than stop his momentum, the guards simply laughed and one even gave him an experimental kick to see if he would keep going. By the time the group reached the gates of the fortress, they had stored up enough hatred for their captors to last several lifetimes.
    In the courtyard, an eerie silence reigned. The guards assembled the slave line with a series of grunts and shoves. Then they withdrew, making space for the arrival of the spindly, gnomelike jailer who had so gleefully given the prisoners news of their pending executions. He climbed a wooden ladder beside the gates and hurried along a platform that spanned the gap just under the great archway. The slave line followed his progress and their eyes came to rest on the recognizable form of Drin Hain, draped in his trademark black robes and hood. The jailer cupped a hand to his face and whispered something to the ghostlike figure.
    Hain unfolded his arms and addressed the slaves.
    â€œAs you know, Lord Doom and I are both very fond of games. You will now be given the chance to choose the order and manner of your executions.” He pointed a finger at Gladius. “YOU first.”
    The slave looked up at Hain nervously, his eyes moving from the dark assassin to the jailer, and then along the platform. However, there was no indication of the task he was being ordered to perform. The rest of the platform was clear and, apart from the assembled group and the guards, the courtyard was empty.
    The jailer motioned to the guard at Gladius’s side.
    â€œShow him the way.”
    Before Gladius could even turn to face the direction the jailer had indicated, he was slammed in the shoulder and almost knocked to the ground. He managed to right himself at the last instant, and quickly sidestepped a second assault before waddling backward with his hands held protectively in front of his face.

    There was no further explanation given and, at first, Ruma, Teo, and Argon all thought that Gladius would actually have to fight the guard. They were all taken aback when the big man suddenly lowered his spear.
    Gladius stopped dead. He didn’t have much choice, seeing as he was now backed against the base of the tower.
    â€œWh-what do I have to do?” he asked when the guard made no further move to attack him.
    The silence continued, but the guard lowered his eyes to a point level with Gladius’s knees and nodded an indication.
    Gladius looked down, and then stepped away from a large, circular grate in the tower wall.
    â€œIn there?” he said tentatively. “Y-you want me to go in there?”
    Drin Hain’s voice rang out across the courtyard like a crack of thunder.
    â€œYou will descend the stone chute and swim through the submerged tunnel. At the far end is a deep well and, in that well, fastened to a sunken statue of the mighty Jupiter, are four golden torcs. Each of these neck rings has a value, ranging from the very expensive to the utterly worthless. Retrieve one, and one only. Then return to the entrance tunnel and call for us. A rope will then be lowered. Do not linger, for your friends will be made to stand in the baking sun until you return. You may begin.”
    Much to the surprise of the assembled slaves, Gladius didn’t even pause. He simply turned, wrenched open the grate, and plunged into the darkness beyond.
    A rush of air shocked the breath from him as he slipped and slid down the slimy stone chute with alarming speed, the glistening green walls rushing past him.
    He cried out, a wail that echoed throughout the entire courtyard and caused several of the guards to snigger, before landing with a heavy splash in a