A throat cleared in the shadows, drawing Rauph from his indulgent self-pity, making him turn to see the captain of the guard step towards him, the discarded and now dented helmet held in his hands.
“I see the burden of being a prince rests heavily upon your shoulders young Kristoph.” Aelius commented. “But be wary of your temper. Your servants are under Mora’s instruction, your rage is misplaced and wasted if you take it out on them. Never lose sight of who your true enemies are, nurture your rage, don’t squander it. Use it to strike when the time is right. When your aim is true and your blow most effective.”
“This is easy for you to say.” Rauph replied sadly. “I am like a predator that has had its spirit broken, its venom sacs emptied, its claws and fangs pulled. Any actions I take will have severe repercussions for my friends. They will suffer for any resistance shown and I have already lost Ives and Ashe.”
“Ashe Wolfsdale the Halfling?” Aelius asked, tilting his head to one side and thinking about the last time he had seen a little pair of legs scrabbling over the keep walls. “How did he supposedly die.”
“Mora had him hung.” Rauph replied, bowing his head as the sadness surged back in like the incoming tide. Aelius moved closer, placing a hand on Rauph’s shoulder and passing the dented helmet back into the Minotaur’s hands.
“If I have taught you anything.” Aelius advised. “It was that you should never believe what anyone tells you, unless you see absolute proof. Wars have started this way, misunderstandings that spiral out of control, a misjudged word, an act of bravado that has led to thousands being slaughtered for nothing.” The captain shook his head sadly.
“Do you not recognise the potential that you have?” Aelius asked. “Tell me, can you not see that you have the opportunity to strike for change within the monarchy?”
“But how am I to take a stand against them?” Rauph replied looking up into his concerned tutor’s face and seeing the sorrow reflected in his aged eyes before staring down at the hazy reflected image presented in his helmet. “I am but a humble navigator. I have no power, no means to stop the injustice I see everywhere I walk about Taurean.”
“If that is what you see in the reflection of your helmet then you have already lost.” Aelius replied. “I on the other hand see someone who’s heart is pure, whose friends are loyal and strong and whose people stand behind him with a zeal I have seldom witnessed in my lifetime. Mark my words. Mora’s time on the throne is limited and I know just the Minotaur who will replace her, he just hasn’t had the right motivation to do so.”
“Who is that then?” Rauph asked, tracing the image on his helm with one huge finger.
“Oh Kristoph, if only I were as naive as yourself. If only I could see the world in your shades of black and white. Life would be much less complicated.” He leaned in closer, whispering into Rauph’s twitching ear, as if afraid someone would overhear his treasonous words.
“You are the Prince Regent. Your family may try to cheat you, may try to kill you but somehow you will prevail. I have a feeling in my gut that this is so. Remember my words. Control your temper, use your strengths when you can and rely on the guidance of others when you cannot. I know you can win this competition despite the odds placed against you. Strike for justice, for truth and for the right to rule Taurean the way it was meant to be. I want you to make Taurean great again.”
“At the cost of my friends?”
“If that is the sacrifice required to allow you to fulfil your destiny, then yes. Especially if they believe in what you stand for and if this is the case, what right have you to take their choices away from them?” Rauph looked back up at his mentor, insecurity still visible within the depths of his eyes.
“But Drummon is so strong. How can I beat him?”
“By using this.” Aelius tapped Rauph on the forehead, then sighed. “Or if this fails, rely on this.” He lowered his hand and placed it over Rauph’s heart. “They say love and compassion for others can move mountains. In your case it only needs to move a stupid thug of a Minotaur and his manipulative mother.”
“I need to leave you now; you will need your rest for the morning when the competition starts.” Aelius moved to exit the room, then stopped when he saw that Rauph still appeared downcast.
“By the way.” He smiled. “That Halfling friend of yours. The last time I saw him he was climbing over the palace walls and escaping from our dungeon with his scruffy black and white bird. If he has been hung, he is definitely a very lively corpse!”
“A lively corpse?” Rauph muttered, frowning. “How is that better than being hung?” Aelius smiled and knelt down, bringing his head level with his young charge, before staring into Rauph’s deep brown eyes.
“Your little friend is on the run somewhere in the city.” Aelius grinned. “And he’s stolen the royal seal. Just make sure tomorrow that you kick Drummon’s arse for me.”
Rauph sat open mouthed as Aelius left the room. Ashe was a lively corpse? How could this be so. His mother had told him Ashe was dead. Did this mean he had become undead? He stood unsteadily, his mind going over the words delivered by the captain of the guard, trying to make sense of them. Even if he ignored the thought of Ashe staggering around the city searching for fresh brains and warm flesh to eat, how could he, Rauph defeat Drummon and subsequently overthrow the Matriarch? He walked over to a mirror and gazed carefully into its depths at a much clearer image of himself than the helmet had presented.
The Minotaur staring back was nothing like the navigator Rauph knew. For one thing he appeared proud, charismatic and not the least bit shaggy. He moved his arm to check the creature in the mirror was indeed himself and nodded when he saw the Minotaur within mirroring his move. It was like the real Rauph was wearing a mask in there and if he could reach into the mirror and peel back the covering the navigator knew he would find the terrified Minotaur he was, cowering beneath. Rauph was hardly hero material. He suddenly felt the room was too warm and that his breathing was becoming a struggle. He needed some fresh air.
He moved in the direction of the balcony and stepped out to fill his lungs with the sultry evening air. Somehow being outside away from the confines of the room made him feel a little brighter. Taurean stretched out below him, hundreds of citizens running this way and that as they scurried to do their overseers wishes, fearful of violence if they failed in their duties.
The navigator looked down at the ship he had called home for all these years and thought fondly of his crewmates. The noise and bustle of the city acted like a soothing balm to the Minotaur’s mind and he was grateful for the distraction. Rauph took it all in, the birds wheeling through the sky, the sun starting its slow descent towards the horizon and the ominous pyramid squatting on the mainland over the twisting labyrinth beneath. What horrors would be lurking in the darkened corridors of that maze? What challenges other than Drummon, was the navigator expected to face?
Rauph tried to make out the layout of the labyrinth from his elevated spot but the pyramid obscured more than half of its elaborate twists and turns. He could see the walls in some areas were heavily covered in vegetation, other areas where torches seemed to have been assembled to provide illumination to those navigating the twisted passageways below. People appeared to be milling about on the top of the maze, flickering camp fires showing where eager spectators were already taking their places to ensure they missed none of the grand spectacle due on the morning. Rauph suddenly realised just how massive the maze had to be for so many spectators to gather upon the top of its walls.
Maybe he should have been training for the competition? It instantly occurred to him that he had no idea of what was expected of him as a contestant. Where was he supposed to go? Was he supposed to pass under the pyramid, or scale its outer walls to get to the top? The magnitude of the situation was not lost on the Minotaur. He briefly wondered what they contestants were given as a packed lunch when they competed. Violetta normally made his expedition sandwiches.
He suddenly missed her cooking, especially her gumbo.
A scrabbling in the ivy climbing the wall, drew the Minotaur’s attention away from his thoughts of food and his suddenly rumbling stomach. He stared over the edge and took in the ragged figure of Mathius scaling the wall towards him, the man’s breath coming in short gasps, his hands and face criss-crossed from the scratches of wicked thorns.
“Hullo Mathius.” Rauph waved down, almost causing the assassin to miss his hand hold and plummet to the courtyard below. “What are you doing down there?”
“Shush!” Mathius gestured, plunging his hand into the ivy to try and get a secure handhold only to scare two roosting birds that took to flight in an explosion of feathers and frustrated squawks.
“Are you coming up?” Rauph asked leaning over and sending some loose mortar crumbling down upon his friend’s head.
“Stop it. Just stop it!” Mathius spat, glancing about nervously and checking that his noisy crewmate had not roused the attentions of the guards manning the walls. Satisfied that there was nothing barbed or pointed heading in his direction the assassin looked up again, only to find another crumbling piece of pottery bouncing off his head.
“Listen,” he snapped. “Thomas has sent me to tell you that we know what is going to happen tomorrow and we will be there in the crowd to help you. Do not fear, we shall be there when you need us to be.”
“Where will you be?” Rauph asked, his brow creasing in worry. “I would not like to miss you, there seems to be a lot of people over at the labyrinth already and it will be easy to get lost.” Mathius waved his arm trying to quieten the Minotaur down.
“Don’t you worry about that. Just know that you are not alone.”
“That’s probably a good thing.” Rauph replied. “Aelius tells me I’m going to be the new king and all I have to do is win the competition and beat Drummon and Mora to do it. The trouble is, the way he says it, he seems to think this is going to be easy and I know for a fact Drummon is very strong.”
“Well don’t worry. All you need to know is we will help you in any way we can.” Mathius looked down searching for a foothold to help make his way back down the wall. “We shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“Oh by the way.” Rauph shouted down excitedly. “Ashe is a zombie now.”
* * * * * *
Panic blinded Rowan for a second, adding to her sense of disorientation caused by the darkness and the blow to her head. She needed to get back to the cage, needed to be lifted up and out of the hold before the spell failed completely. How was she going to find the cage in the darkness? How was she going to find her way back? She took a few faltering steps one way and then the other. Which way should she go? She was going to die here trapped below decks, her body crushed, her bones snapped. She turned, stumbling over the thin silver chain, her mind was in such a turmoil it initially failed to recognise the lifeline the chain represented.
Of course, she could follow the chain!
Rowan dropped to her knees gathering up the silvery links of metal into long loops as fast as she could, then began to follow the lifeline out into the darkness away from the larger piles of huge chain still clattering and settling on the deck. The silvery links passed under a length of the larger chain, temporarily stopping her in her tracks. She pushed the larger chain aside with a grunt, sliding it across the deck, pulling the smaller silver chain out from underneath the last solitary link there.
The last link! She had found the final link but there was no time left to secure it properly and anyway, she could not pull her swollen arm free from the safety pin! She looked down at the centre of the link and frowned. To find it now, of all times, when she had so much else to worry about. The tingling creeping up from her hand to her wrist reminded her all too well of the urgency of her need to depart swiftly and return to the cage, yet she still found her steps faltering as she turned away.
Rowan took several more tentative steps then shook her head, bringing her hands down to her sides, clenching her fists angrily as her onward passage came to a grinding halt. She thought of Thomas and the others relying on her and cursed under her breath, her anger directed as much at herself and her need to escape, as it was to the impossible situation that she now found herself in. She shook her head, then turned back to the final part of the chain and gazed down at it, her mind tumbling over and over.
The solution to her problem was not an easy one. There was no way she could drag this huge chain and the rest of its length over to the cage. One link she could perhaps slide along the floor but never several massive links all interlocked! How was she going to do this? How was she going to show Thomas his faith and love of her was deserved? Her mind scrutinised the link carefully, all the time trying to ignore the swelling spreading up her arm.
There was more space through the centre of this link than a chain with links at both top and bottom. Could she possibly squeeze through it? A crash of cascading links sounded behind her as Socks angrily extricated himself from beneath the heavier piles of chain, spitting and snarling in anger. Rowan pushed at the link, trying to lift it up and tilt it on one edge so she could slide through then took a deep breath.
“Why do I think I’m going to regret that extra cookie at lunch time.” She muttered, as she started to wriggle and squeeze her body through the opening, twisting to allow her shoulder and then her arm to slide through the link, before lifting one knee, bending, breathing out, attempting to squeeze her slim body through the grease stained hole. The patter of approaching paws fed the anxiety rising in Rowan as she struggled to get through. Socks, damn that stupid cat! Why did he have to be down here? The cat was rapidly heading in her direction. She tried to speed up, only to find that her hips would not pass through the gap.
“Oh come on!” she snapped angrily. “My hips aren’t that big!” She wriggled impatiently, trying to bend her neck to identify why she could not pass through, cursing every stolen pastry that ever passed her lips and promising if she could survive this she would diet until she was looking like a twig! She tugged again, still feeling the stubborn resistance, an increased pressure on her right hip, then realised with some embarrassment that her tool belt was the reason she was unable to squeeze through.
The padding of paws came closer, causing Rowan to fumble with her belt buckle as she tried to squeeze through the small gap and open her belt at the same time.
“It would be easier if my fingers were not like a pound of sausages!” she screamed, tugging violently until the belt suddenly came free and slid down to her ankles, allowing her to pass through the hole and tumble out the other side.
Socks jumped over the piles of chain and slid to a stop to sniff at the link now sitting empty apart from the tool belt lying beside it. The cat turned its head to the left, then the right, then noticed the thin sliver of chain scooting off across the deck at its feet. It licked its lips hungrily then set off in determined pursuit.
* * * * * *
“That’s long enough.” Commagin snorted, watching as the final grains slid through the sand timer and dropped onto the gravitational dune below. He flexed his shoulders gripped the rope in his hand and started to haul up the line, hurriedly taking in the slack. “You better have done the job.” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Just don’t let me down girl. Be safe and don’t let me down.”
* * * * * *
Rowan slid to a stop before the cage, trailing the thin length of chain behind her and stared at the battered container as if it were a palace. She had never wanted to see something so much, instantly feeling safer at the prospect of stepping inside.
Something huge jumped over her head. Rowan had a glimpse of black and white fur then her feline nemesis smashed into the cage, sending it toppling onto its side and rattling across the floor. The cat twisted its body in the air, extended its claws and dropped in a spitting snarl blocking Rowan’s route of escape.
“Oh you absolute bastard!” Rowan
cursed as her sanctuary clattered off into the darkness. She sized up the cat as it moved a few steps to one side before retracing the route, getting closer to her with every step along its arcing path. Sock’s tail flicked from side to side, the cat’s slitted eyes not daring to shift from its prey.
Rowan ran to the left, then cut to the right hoping that her change in direction would confuse Socks but the hunter’s instincts allowed it to pounce with unerring accuracy, its claws outstretched. She found herself smashed to the floor, lines of fire slicing through her lower leg as the cat struck. Rowan screamed her frustration to the world; trying to tuck and roll like she had been taught when learning parachute landings in another world far removed from this one.
Adrenaline took over, squashing the fear back down as she lowered her head and tried to escape into the darkness, her left leg threatening to buckle beneath her at any time. Somehow, she reached the cage, grimacing at each agonising step, only to have her hopes crushed, finding the cage toppled on its side, all dented, with the entrance blocked, now impossible to gain access.
Rowan stole a quick glance behind her, horrified to see the cat slinking deliberately towards her, showing no hurry in its deadly advance, clearly understanding that its prey was tiring and the game was nearly up.
“Oh please give me a break!” Rowan cried her frustration aloud. Was she ever going to have something go her way? The rope lying alongside the cage suddenly shifted, shooting upwards, the slack whipping across the floor, making Socks jump back, suddenly skittish of the unexpected movement.
Rowan’s eyes followed the rope then realised what was going on. The cage was being lifted up, she needed to get on and fast! She ran for the prone pen, arms outstretched, desperate to grab the cage and hope she could hang on for long enough, only to watch in horror as her makeshift elevator scooted up into the darkness, inches from her fingertips.
The Labyris Knight Page 67