by Park, Elsie
Roland took a step into the room, but a firm hand from the guard on his shoulder stayed him.
“I can’t let you in, though, I’m sorry. If anything is disturbed, Sir Doyle will kill me . . . literally.” The guard’s face was deadly serious.
Maggots! To be so close to the information I’ve been seeking for months only to be told it’s off limits. “Oh, come on,” Roland said, tipping his head to the side. “You can’t show me an intriguing room like this and not let me walk around it.”
The guard started to shake his head again.
“I promise not to touch anything,” Roland lied.
“Well,” the guard hesitated, looking around the immediate area again. “All right, but she can’t go in.”
“She’ll stay just inside the door, and no farther,” Roland promised. He turned to Gail. “Or you’ll suffer the rack, wench,” he warned with a menacing tone. Gail nodded, keeping her eyes down. She was performing brilliantly, playing the part of the docile servant so well that the guard had forgotten about her most of the time. That was an important part of the plan for this room.
Lady Pritchard stepped into the cavern after them. Roland saw her eyes briefly move about, coming to rest on the table beside her, but she didn’t move her body beyond that. The guard watched her for a minute to make sure she wouldn’t touch anything, then he left her to walk beside Roland as he moseyed around the cave-turned-library.
Roland moved with calm reserve, but his eyes darted around madly, searching the dates scratched into the shelves. He knew he couldn’t spend much time searching or the guard would become suspicious, but by heaven, he couldn’t pinpoint the date he needed. And if he found it, when then? He promised not to touch anything. How could he secretly grab a parchment with the guard following so closely?
Then he saw it: the section dated for the year his parents died. He briefly paused, wondering how he’d distract the guard enough to nab the scrolls without his seeing the act when a crashing sound diverted their attention to the doorway.
“You clumsy fool!” the guard hollered as he darted over to Gail kneeling on the floor surrounded by dozens of scrolls knocked from their shelves. “Get away from there, you idiotic simpleton!” he yelled, roughly lifting her by the arm and shoving her toward the door.
Thinking fast during the diversion, Roland grabbed several scrolls from the shelf and stuffed them up into his roomy tunic sleeves. He didn’t have time to grab any more before the guard looked at him.
“Help me with these, or Doyle will strap us all to the rack!”
Roland reluctantly rushed over to the mess and helped the sentry place nearly fifty scrolls back into their appropriate slots according to the dates written on their edges. He’d never seen a man whose hands shook so violently work as fast as the guard did to place everything back in order.
When it was done, he ushered Roland from the room, all but shoving him out, and locked the door behind them. “The tour is over, sir. Now, keep that impudent woman under closer watch,” he warned with a glare in Gail’s direction, “before she causes more trouble.”
“Are you all right?” Audri whispered to Autumn.
The young woman nodded.
“Where’s Andrew?”
Autumn shook her head. “I don’t know,” she choked, her bottom lip trembling. “Two knights who resemble each other and a guard came earlier, hours ago, and took him deep into the dungeon. The knights returned but without Andrew or the guard. I haven’t seen them since.”
The knights were probably the twins, Sirs Hammond and Harold. “Did you hear them say anything when they took Andrew? The slightest word might give us a clue as to what they did with him.”
Autumn thought a moment, her face pinched in concentration. “One of the knights said to take him to the nether-most part. ‘To the rack?’ the guard asked, but the other knight shook his head, saying that Doyle’s plan for him was more ‘beneficial’ than the rack.” Autumn looked at Audri. “Do you think they killed him?”
Audri considered that but forced her mind to think positively. “Beneficial.” Audri’s brows furrowed. “An odd word for torture. Did you hear any yells after they took him?”
“No, none that came from my brother, anyway. I’m sure of it,” Autumn said, wiping tears from her eyes.
“It’s probably safe to say they aren’t hurting him.”
“But they could have killed him without a sound,” Autumn choked out.
Audri realized that. “Let’s not dwell on that thought until we’re sure. From what we know about Doyle, he doesn’t often kill without torturing his victim first, and he isn’t even in Guildon right now. He’s sent his knights to do his bidding, probably sending Andrew out on one of his errands. With you locked up, they have leverage, knowing Andrew will do whatever they ask and not try to escape again.”
“But if he’s out on an assignment, why didn’t they bring him back this way and take him out of the dungeon?” Autumn asked, panic in her voice.
The draft she’d felt earlier in the cavern returned momentarily, its strength pushing the hair away from her face. Though it brought with it the rancid stench of decaying flesh, it triggered her mind more than her senses. Where could a gust that strong come from in a cavern so deep within the earth? Not from any small fissure, that’s for sure. Audri’s eyes widened. Maybe from a much bigger space, a hole that led out to the open . . . maybe one large enough for a person to pass through on a secret mission for a malicious man. Yes, that had to be why Andrew had not returned. Her heart sped up, excited. There must be another way out of here.
“I have an idea that there is more than one exit in this place,” Audri said, encouraging her frightened cellmate. And what better place to hide a secret exit than in the darkest, most horrific dungeon where none dare enter? Audri squeezed the young woman’s hands in hers. “We’ll find him, Autumn.”
Autumn gave her a timid smile and then threw herself into Audri’s arms, sobbing. She held the girl tight for a time, rubbing her back with consoling strokes.
“I don’t know how much time I have,” Audri told her, stepping back. “You’ve been here a few days. Have you noticed any patterns in the guards?”
Autumn thought a moment. “The guards are pretty routine in checking on the prisoners,” she said. “They do a sweep every few hours, as far as I can tell. It’s easy to lose track of time in this dismal place. Day and night are all the same where neither sun nor moon can be seen.”
Audri swept the main cavern with her eyes, nodding in understanding. “Has anyone else besides the knights and the guards come down?”
Autumn thought again and then nodded. “A servant, accompanied by a guard, came down to throw leftover scraps to the prisoners. I think it was yesterday.”
“Then you haven’t received scraps today,” Audri stated more to herself.
Someone might be coming down soon. Roland had better return before then. Their visit in the dungeons would surely reach the ears of Festus before long.
“I’m so hungry,” Autumn said, placing a hand on her stomach. “Do you think they mean to starve us?”
Audri was grateful their ruckus coming down the stairs had confused the guards enough that they didn’t check her pouch. She dug into it and handed the saved pieces of bread to Autumn. “Here, to ward off your hunger until something arrives.”
Autumn grabbed them and immediately took bites from one of the chunks, devouring it in seconds. “Oh, thank you, milady,” she said through a mouthful of bread. She set to work on the second chunk, consuming it at the same speed.
“I’m sure the leftovers are from the entire day. The evening meal is just taking place, so the remainders will come down after that.”
Autumn nodded as she ate the rest of the bread, her eyes showing more gratitude than words could convey.
Audri wanted to cry, feeling remorseful for not br
inging more. “We’ll get you out before long, Autumn. I promise,” Audri reassured her. She heard Roland, Gail, and the guard return from the cavern’s depth. “Here they come,” she whispered. “We’ll do our best to locate Andrew, too,” she added.
“The rack is one of Doyle’s favorites, then?” she heard Roland say with a chuckle.
The guard snickered. “Oh yes, he uses that one at least thrice a week, but the iron maiden comes in at a close second.”
The men laughed.
“Fascinating. You’d think these maggots would just do as he asks to avoid such treatment,” Roland said.
“It doesn’t matter,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Doyle straps anyone to his gadgets whether they do as he says or not. Compliance makes them think they’re exempt when, in reality, it simply prolongs the wait time.” He smirked with ominous delight.
“Sir Roland! Please!” Audri cried out, making her voice sound terrified. “I pray, let me out of this horrid place. I can’t stand it. I’ll do as you ask from now on. No complaints. No arguments. I give you my word, just let me out. Please.”
“Well, now, that didn’t take long, did it?” Roland said more to the guard than to Audri. “What a magical place this is.”
The guard snorted in amusement.
“Very well, squire. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you out.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, Sir Roland. You’re a kind and forgiving master.”
“Hm, I like that. I should have thrown you in here at the onset of your training months ago.”
He and the guard laughed as the cell door was unlocked and Audri let out. Autumn remained in the corner where she sat on the ground. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Audri ached to give her a last glance of hope but dared not in front of the guard.
Audri stepped over to Gail and they linked arms, bowing their heads in a compliant gesture.
Upon reaching the prison door, the guard knocked on it.
His comrade opened a peep-door in the main portal and peeked through it. “It’s about time,” he said through the little window. “I was about go in and see what the holdup was.” He unlocked the door, and they all stepped out of the dungeon. “I see the wench has had a change of heart.” He smirked knowingly at Audri.
“That she has,” Roland expressed with a nod. “Thanks to the change in scenery.”
The three men sniggered. Audri and Gail remained quiet, heads bowed, but Audri shifted nervously on her feet, feeling uneasy about how long they’d been down there. The servant bringing scraps would arrive and see them if they didn’t leave soon, and even if Doyle wasn’t there, Festus still was.
“Thank you for humoring me,” Roland said to the guard who’d gone in with them. “And oh, don’t mention this to Sir Doyle, eh? He’d just think me a pushover for not making her stay here all night, and I’d rather impress than disappoint him.” He winked at the men.
“Understood,” one guard said as the other nodded.
Roland untied the small pouch attached to his belt and placed it on the table next to the food tray. The clinking sound suggested coins inside. “For your trouble . . . both of you.”
The guards’ eyes lit up. Roland didn’t believe for a second that they’d keep his secret forever, but hopefully the coins would buy him and Audri time before the guards’ lips loosened over a pint of ale.
Roland ushered his “subservient” females up the stairs. They reached the top of the landing and turned the corner just as a male servant carrying a large tray of table scraps came around another corner and into the hall. He passed by and turned down the dungeon stairs without glancing in their direction. Their timing couldn’t have been closer. Audri nearly fainted with relief.
As soon as the door to her chamber was shut, Audri told Roland and Gail what she’d discovered in the cell. She also informed them that Andrew hadn’t returned after being taken into the depths.
“Did you see anyone back there?” Audri directed at both him and Gail.
“As for living things, we only saw the occasional rat,” Gail said.
“There were many dark corners, but we didn’t notice anyone resembling Andrew.”
Roland could see Audri’s face still exuded concern.
“We’ll find him, Audri,” Roland said, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze.
Audri squared her shoulders in a show of renewed courage. “So, what did you two discover?” she asked.
“Something of worth, hopefully,” Roland replied as he walked to her little table. The women followed. “Thanks to my ‘interest’ in torture, the guard saw me more as a comrade in crime than a threat to the operations. He gave us a detailed tour of the dungeon. His loose tongue also brought some tidbits of information.”
“Sir Roland’s performance was quite good,” Gail acclaimed. “I truly believed he held a vile curiosity in the atrocious activities of the dungeon.”
Roland smiled. “Thank you, Lady Pritchard.” He respected the compliment and honestly praised her in return. “Though I must say it didn’t stack up to the trick you pulled in the room of records.”
Gail smiled and blushed.
He turned to Audri. “As the guard took us into a small cave full of scrolls and ledgers, Lady Pritchard, seeing an opportunity, ‘stumbled’ into a shelf and knocked some of the scrolls to the ground. Her distraction with the ensuing clean up helped procure me some valuable documents . . . I hope.”
Roland pulled out several scrolls from his sleeves and set them on the table.
Gail did the same, producing a scroll and a small ledger from under her cloak.
At Roland’s look of surprise, Gail shrugged. “I might have grabbed a few things in the chaos as well.”
Roland smiled wide. “Brilliant!”
“You think Doyle will notice they’re missing?” Audri said, sending Roland a worried glance.
Roland shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know, but let’s see if our hasty seizure has even done us any good.” He unrolled the first scroll labeled with the year his parents died. He scanned it, frowning. Though there was plenty written about who had been tortured and who had died, the Fletchers weren’t on the list. He rolled it back up and then unraveled the next one with the identical year. Again, the same outcome.
Roland swore under his breath. Did the entire ruse gain me nothing to prove Doyle murdered my parents? And he’d been so hopeful. Perhaps the ones he needed were still on the shelf. He would need to get back into the dungeon somehow, especially to free the siblings, but getting down there the first time had been challenging enough. He didn’t think he could pull it off again, especially with Doyle returning to Guildon soon.
“What did you bring back, Lady Pritchard?” Roland asked, trying not to lose faith.
Gail unrolled the scroll she’d grabbed from the cave and smoothed it out flat on the tabletop.
Roland’s eyes widened. It wasn’t information about prisoners . . . but a map of the dungeon.
He looked over at Gail. “You clever woman. Did you know this was a map when you snatched it?”
“No. I acted on a hunch, thinking it might be important seeing as it was set apart from the others. I grabbed it when that guard was stuffing scrolls back into their slots like a mad man.”
Though Roland was still frustrated they hadn’t found anything tying Doyle to his parents, he smiled at Gail, seeing her through new eyes. “Well done, good woman. Well done.” Gail beamed at him with pride.
“Look here,” Audri said. She had turned the map in her direction and was studying it. Roland stood and walked around the table, bending over her shoulder to look at it. He inhaled, smelling the fragrant lemon on her. Sweet, sweet citrus. Audri pointed to a small section marked “archives” and turned to Roland. “Is this where you found the scrolls?”
Roland nodded.
“Yes.”
“And look at this,” Audri said, placing her finger on the map. “Not far from that cave is a tunnel leading from the dungeon. It runs off the map.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “It’s marked ‘Highlands.’”
Roland straightened his back. “So there is another exit from the dungeon . . . leading through the mountain and into Scottish terrain.”
They stared at each other.
“Gail,” Roland said, moving to the nearest chair and sitting down again. “Do you remember passing that dark cavern toward the end of our, uh, tour?”
Gail thought a moment.
“It was barred with a heavy gate,” he reminded her. “A most putrid smell emitted from it.”
“Ah, yes,” Gail said, her nose wrinkling as if she could still sense it. “You asked about it, and the guard alluded it was where they disposed of the bodies.” She turned to Audri. “He whispered that it was haunted and didn’t take us near it. He acted so differently in front of that dark hole than in any other place, like he’d been made to be afraid of it.”
“Yes,” Roland said, remembering the gust that had hit him near its entrance. “He either had genuine superstitions about the dead or was under the strictest of orders to keep a forbidden area secret, even more so than the records room.” Roland brought his hand up and cupped his chin and mouth, pondering. He tapped the area in question with a finger from his other hand. “I’d bet my life that dumping ground for corpses is this passage marked Highlands. What better way to keep unauthorized people, or escaped prisoners, from venturing into it than to have it littered with cadavers?”
Audri made a face like she’d just eaten something bitter. “I can believe that of Sir Doyle’s gruesome mind. But, the questions are: what’s Guildon doing with a secret passageway into Scotland, and do you think that’s where Andrew went?”
Roland nodded. “We can only guess what a tunnel like that would do for Guildon, and nothing innocent comes to mind. But yes, it’s quite possible that’s where Andrew has been taken, compelled to carry out more of Doyle’s foul assignments.” Roland forced a breath out through his nose. “Our deception down there gained us information about the dungeon, but . . .” Roland shook his head, looking down at the map, “I didn’t find anything to implicate Doyle as the murderer of my kin.”