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“Go,” Farmer’s voice whispered beside my ear. “We’ll wait.”
Pounce left Daeggan to join me. We went out onto the stair, keeping distance between us and the Halleburn knight. Sabine gripped me by the shoulders and looked me intently in the eyes. “We were coming to release you from the dungeon,” she explained. “Farmer’s gone somewhere—he locked Elyot into a substance like glass and tore the main hall apart.” She picked up Pounce and kissed him. He even let her. “Have you seen the boy?” she asked. “We got into Prince Baird’s rooms, but there’s no sign of him. We just found some of the kitchen servants. They told us they fled when the mage fight began upstairs. We have to find the boy and Farmer before we can get away.”
I pointed to Nomalla. “Why are you trusting her?”
“She freed us,” Tunstall said.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Nomalla told me. “You’re a Guard, you’re for sale to anyone with a sufficient bribe. A knight has her honor.”
“That’s enough,” Sabine barked, her eyes fiery. “Nomalla, if you speak so of these two Guards again, you’ll face my sword. Their honor is every bit as good as yours. Better. They’ve not turned on the Crown for so much as an hour.”
“May we brandish our shields at some better time?” Farmer asked wearily as he stepped from the darkened room with Gareth on his back and Daeggan at his heels. The prince whimpered and struggled to flee when he saw Nomalla, but Farmer hitched Gareth around to sit on his hip and bounced him as if he’d been a mother all his life. “Easy, lad. She’s on our side, for now.” He looked at Nomalla with eyes that had turned the color of ice. “If she isn’t, I’ll make her very sad.”
“Will you turn her to ice, too?” Daeggan asked. “She’s all right, you know, for one of them. She made her brother stop whippin’ me.”
Nomalla backed away from Farmer a step. She put both hands on her weapons, one on her dagger hilt, one on her sword. “You buried Elyot in stone, or ice, or something up to his neck,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “He’s screaming for someone to let him out.”
Farmer’s smile had no warmth in it. “Only Cassine Catfoot could free him. Let’s be on our way, shall we? You first.”
“One moment,” Tunstall said. He smiled at Daeggan. “Who’s this?”
“This is Daeggan. He’s a slave who wants to change his place in life,” I said. “He knows a way out.”
“So do we,” Sabine told us. “Nomalla and I played in the tunnels as girls. I know one that’s best for our purposes.”
Daeggan looked up at me. I nodded, knowing he was asking if my friend could be trusted.
“I think you’d best make your own way out of here,” Tunstall said, resting a hand on Daeggan’s shoulder. Gently he told the boy, “If not that, go back to your place and wait for us to return with soldiers to arrest the lord. We have a rough journey ahead. A deadly one. Too risky for a lad, even one as brave as you.”
Daeggan gave Tunstall his clenched fist of a scowl. “I’m stayin’ wiv her,” he said, pointing to me. “Her I know better’n you. I go wiv her or I tell my lord ye’re down here.”
“Clever lad,” Farmer remarked.
“Daeggan’s my friend,” Gareth said.
“That settles that, then,” Tunstall said, grouchy. “If we live, I’ll find him a good position scrubbing privies. Let’s move.” He passed my belt and pack to me while Sabine set Pounce down and gave Farmer’s shoulder pack to him. I took the kitchen knives from my makeshift belt and put them in my pack before I donned my true belt and felt for my own blades and my baton. Then I checked my pack and nearabout yelped with delight. My arm guards, each with ten thin knives as ribs, lay on top of my other belongings. Hurriedly I slid them on. Though I could manage the ties myself with one hand and my teeth, Farmer did them up for me. As I bent to close my pack, I saw light near the bottom. It was my stone lamp. I slid it into my pocket. A little light is always useful.
Once Farmer and I had our packs in place and Farmer had settled Gareth in his arms, Nomalla and Sabine led the way down the steps. Pounce walked between Tunstall and Farmer, whilst I brought up the rear. Daeggan trotted along with me. I started to feel uneasy as we went deeper. So did Farmer, from the looks he gave Tunstall, and so did the lad beside me.
Finally Daeggan halted. “She’s takin us t’ th’ cells, she’s gonna lock us up and turn us over!” he whispered, clutching my arm. We weren’t far from the guards’ station. He had a point. All we needed was a cove with a short run to an alarm bell.
Nomalla and Sabine halted on the last landing between us and the dungeons. They turned left and walked three yards down a small corridor there. Farmer followed while Tunstall put his finger to his lips and frowned at Daeggan. Into the hall we went. I paused on the landing, trying to hear any noise from either way on the stairs. All was silent. Wouldn’t they come to the dungeons to find me, knowing Farmer was out? Had they tried to find Gareth, or had they gone for Sabine and Tunstall, believing them to be more important just now? I rubbed the back of my neck and caught up with the others.
Sabine and Nomalla had turned to face the left-hand wall. Like the rest of this part of the castle, it was old stone. The rock was not all cut to the same shape, but the pieces were fitted together, round, square, and rectangular. The differences between them were filled in with mortar. Among them one small, reddish stone hardly stood out, though the other ones were gray. The red one was at chest height for Lady Sabine. She set a couple of fingers against it and pushed.
A section of the wall in front of the lady swung in like a door. Gareth, who seemed to know to be silent, gasped and almost clapped his hands with delight, stopping himself just in time. Beyond the door lay a dank tunnel, barely high enough to fit Tunstall and scarcely wide enough to fit him and Farmer walking abreast. It was veiled in cobwebs and thin roots. I checked the map in my head and found this place. The tunnel that opened into that corridor was one of those that led off the edge of the map.
Tunstall grabbed the nearest torch from its bracket.
“I can light the way,” Farmer protested. I reached in my pocket for my light stone.
Tunstall grinned and passed the torch around the opening, burning the cobwebs away. “Can your light do that?” he asked.
Farmer shrugged. “You know I can’t do fire, remember?” he asked. It was just as well. I had the firm opinion that Farmer should save his strength, physical and magical. We had a long road ahead, all of it on foot, with Farmer, the lads, and me barefoot at that.
Tunstall went first with Pounce beside him, then Nomalla and Sabine. Farmer put Gareth down and shooed him, Daeggan, and me ahead of him. Once we were inside, he shoved the stone door closed. Daeggan, for all his spirit, did not like the dark that filled the air around us. No more did Gareth.
“Keep to the main path,” Nomalla told us. “Don’t go into any of the side tunnels. It’s too easy to get lost down here.”
After that the two lads clutched each other tight and flinched at every side tunnel we passed. The torch did very little for those of us behind Tunstall and the ladies. I was taking my stone lamp from my pocket when a cool kind of moonlight filled the tunnel.
“There’s no need,” I said, showing Farmer my own lamp.
Farmer touched it with one of his glowing hands. The stone shone brighter than before. “Stop worrying,” he murmured. “Tunstall appears to have forgotten I do light, if not fire. Light’s the easiest thing I do. And it’s everywhere.”
I let Daeggan hold my stone. Once he realized it wasn’t hot, he clutched it like his life depended on it. I took the lads’ hands. We hurried on after the others, poor Farmer bending so he wouldn’t bump his head. Tunstall was in the same basket. I noticed that after a time he began to rub the back of his neck. The position and the tunnel’s chill damp were making his bones ache. There was a warm balm in his pack, but neither he nor Sabine would take the time to get it out. I think none of us believed that our captors would not discover our absence and work out that we had
help from within.
“How many know of these tunnels?” I asked Lady Nomalla.
“My brother, who is not here,” she replied over her shoulder. “Perhaps my father and my aunt, who grew up in this place. The castellan, certainly. He is one of my father’s by-blows. That’s all.”
“I always preferred him to your brother,” Sabine remarked, as calmly as if we were on a daylight stroll. They talked quietly about relatives as we continued on through the depths under Halleburn’s causeway, where the tunnel grew wider and higher.
No such daylight walk I’d taken sported blind white lizards moving at the corner of my eye, or pale fish in the stream that ran alongside one section of the tunnel. The side tunnels sometimes showed bigger webs than either of the boys. At one turning some poor mumper had been chained to the rock and left to die, a skeleton in very old-fashioned rags.
Sabine halted and laid a gentle hand on the dead man’s skull. “I still say a prayer for you before each fight, Brother Bones,” she told him quietly. “I have kept my promise.” She noticed we all stared, and explained, “I was lost here when I was very young. I promised Brother Bones that I would pray for him if he would show me the way to the castle, and he did.”
“Do you know who he is?” Tunstall asked.
Lady Nomalla replied, “My father does not know and says his father did not know, so the poor man has been here nearly a century at least.”
The lads gave the skeleton a wide berth. I looked back as we hurried on. The dead man had naught to say to me. I thought my own prayer for him and sent it to the God, in case Brother Bones’s soul still wandered for lack of a pigeon to carry him.
It seemed as if we’d been treading the uneven ground forever when I felt a breeze coming from somewhere in front of me. A moment later Tunstall whispered loudly, “Douse the lights!”
Daeggan handed mine back to me. I stuck it inside my breeches, under the band of my loincloth, rather than risk the light escaping my pocket. Farmer’s glow faded slowly, not going out until we could dimly see the end of the tunnel, a mass of ivy. Tunstall passed his torch to Sabine. Holding up one hand in a “halt” signal, he used the other to draw his long knife. Carefully, silently, he eased out through the curtain of vines.
“Are we home?” Gareth whispered.
Daeggan hushed him. I knelt beside him and shook my head. I didn’t say it would be one of the gods’ great miracles if we made it to the boy’s home.
Wednesday, June 27, 249
Halleburn Fiefdom
yet recorded in my memory
At last Tunstall returned to wave us into the open. Once we were outside, Farmer faced the tunnel. He had opened his roll of ribbon to expose two inches of it. His lips moved, shaping silent words.
Lady Nomalla reached out as if to stop him, but Sabine grabbed her by the sleeve. Nobody dared make a sound. Something pressed on me. I shoved Daeggan and Gareth back toward the others but stayed where I was, afraid that Farmer might overdo again.
The feeling moved away. The vines and their heavy wooden trunk were mashed against the stone until trunk and leaves alike flattened. Then, in the light of Farmer’s magic, I saw the rock’s edges and crevices run together. When the liquid stone had erased all sign of the door to the tunnel, it went still and took on the look of old rock.
A tiny line of smoke rose from the embroidered face of the ribbon. I advanced to look at it. A charred line ran through the face of the embroidery, marking where one color had burned. He looked at the others and shrugged. “Ma always said to close the door behind me,” he explained.
We were in the woods, but I saw open ground thirty yards away. Leaving the boys to gawp at Farmer, I advanced into the clearing and beyond, crossing a wide swathe of grass. I reached the edge of the cliff.
The moon was gone, but starlight and the castle torches below were enough to see by. I did not risk my stone lamp. Halleburn lay to my right atop its rock finger. We were on the cliff northwest of the lake and the castle. I wasn’t close enough to see the guards’ faces as they walked the walls, but I was close enough to see them. To my left there was a path about two yards wide, made of tamped, bare earth. It followed the cliff’s edge.
The castle was quiet, the guards bunched up to gossip on the walls. The prisoners in the other cells would have gotten free by now. Farmer’s battle with Elyot had been a noisy one, sure to draw attention. Someone would have entered the great hall to see the warring mages. Others would have found the guards that drank the drugged ale, or Elyot, or the children who had feared to join us. A servant or guard would have checked Sabine and Tunstall’s chambers. Missing them, they might have thought to call Nomalla. The alarm should be out.
Yet the guards returned to their pacing. I heard no sound of the drawbridge as it was lowered to allow pursuers to ride out, and Farmer had said nothing of meddling with the chains this time. It was all wrong.
The traitor among us must have left signs of our escape.
I would know who the traitor was only when the trap was sprung, I realized. By then all we had done and all we’d endured, all Their Majesties had endured, would be wasted.
Up there, the night breezes pushing at my face, I knew that in the end, I could only really trust Gareth, mayhap Daeggan, Pounce, and Achoo. If needful, I would leave everyone, even Farmer, to get the prince away free. It was the only way to be certain I did not have a traitor at my back.
My mind set, I ran back to my companions. They were there, pasting mud and leaves on one another. The boys even helped Nomalla to cover her armor as Sabine pinned the other mot’s bright hair in place and coated it. The lady had worn no helm.
“Cooper, darken that skin,” Tunstall ordered me. “Let’s not stand out more than we already do.”
“Do we know where we’re going?” Farmer asked.
I pulled a close cap from my pack and drew it over my head, tucking my braid into it until my hair was hidden. Then I smeared all of myself that I could reach. Farmer did the back of my neck. I did his. No one noticed if we took a few extra seconds in touching.
As we worked, Sabine told us, “Mattes and I figured out a plan with Nomalla’s help.”
Daeggan spat on the ground.
Nomalla glared down her thin nose at him. “I don’t normally explain myself to slaves, but you cannot know my father if you believe he will accept me back into his house after this.”
“Enough,” Tunstall ordered. “We’re dead deer if we’re caught. Now listen—Nomalla says there’s a village a couple miles off. We can steal horses there.”
Sabine picked up the tale. “We want to try for King’s Reach—their loyalty is unquestioned. We’ll steal horses all the way if we must.”
Inside, I winced. King’s Reach was across the Great Road North at the headwaters of the Halseander. We’d have to steal a lot of horses to get there, unless we found good ones, but what other choices did we have? And all this depended as well on our pursuit. We had to move.
We were nearly ready when we heard something crashing in the woods. Tunstall, Sabine, and I grabbed our weapons, putting ourselves between the lads, Farmer, and Nomalla.
You worry overmuch, Pounce told us. I knew everyone could hear it, because the lady knight and the lads turned to stare at the cat. In the darkness of the brush, he was only a pair of gleaming purple eyes. This time, anyway. I told her to make noise so you’d have warning.
Farmer was explaining Pounce to the boys when my poor Achoo, her curls tangled, leaves and twigs in her fur, leaped from the undergrowth into my arms. Tunstall grabbed my long dagger before she speared herself on it. I laughed as my hound washed off all the dirt I’d put so carefully on my face. Then I dropped to my knees with her. While she wiggled and whined, I dumped the meat I’d stolen from the kitchens onto the cloth I’d used to carry it. Achoo ate in several big gulps while Sabine, Tunstall, and Farmer petted her and told her what a wonderful creature she was.
I kept her in my mind, Pounce explained, winkling a bit of pork f
rom the pile before Achoo could devour it. She had her work to do to keep away from the normal hunting parties, but she did it.
“Is that your dog?” asked Gareth.
I turned to look at him. He and Daeggan had inched back to stand with Nomalla, the outsiders at our family welcome. “She is a hound,” I explained. Nomalla snorted. I ignored her. “Achoo—that’s her name—is a scent hound. She’s one of the finest—”
With the smell of pork out of her nose, Achoo looked around. She saw the other three members of the group, but most important of all, she smelled one of them, the one that she had tracked for so many miles. She threw herself at the prince, whimpering and wagging her tail as she knocked the boy over and licked his face clean. Nomalla drew her blade in a flash, I think to protect Gareth, but “It’s all right,” Sabine told her. “Achoo’s just enthusiastic.”
Gareth, met with real affection for the first time in weeks, wrapped his arms around my hound’s neck and wept.
