“You would know better than us,” said Gem.
“And yet I know nothing. But I do have guesses. And if I suppose correctly, then we have already fought the first battle of a war I have tried to stave off for many years.”
Jordel looked at the wizard. Xain sat with his hands bound behind him, near the secret doorway. His eyes were now clear, as they were most days, and in them Loren saw a bottomless worry. She remembered how, in Wellmont, Jordel had spoken to Xain for most of a day. He had desired the wizard’s services ever since Loren met him in Cabrus, and on that day the Mystic had finally revealed his reasons. But not to her.
Gem reached for his saddlebag. “I wish you would speak more plainly. This double-talk makes me hungry, yet I am certain you will insist I do not eat as much as I wish.”
“In that you are correct, for if you ate as much as you wish, no doubt your stomach would rupture.” Jordel snatched the saddlebag away. “And it is wise to fear speaking plainly of that which you do not know, for then you may plant ideas in the minds of others that they may struggle to shake, even after seeing the truth.”
“More double-talk,” grumbled Gem. “Give me what food you will, and that will sate my curiosity.”
Jordel chuckled and divided their food, handing Gem some morsels of bread and the last of an old hunk of cheese that was not far from spoiled. The rest received their rations in silence, all lost in thought. Loren wondered if their minds were turned to the same thing as hers: the sight of Trisken struggling up from the floor, his ruined eye stitching itself together.
“Loren, will you feed Xain for me?”
She nodded, took the food from Jordel, then went to the wizard, noting with interest that he looked better than he had in a while. His limbs were still wasted thin, and his cheeks gaunt, but his eyes were clear and bright, and they no longer sank so deeply into his skull. He had lost much of his hair to the sickness, but what remained had thickened and grown lustrous. He looked at her eagerly as she removed the gag.
She carefully untied it then pulled the cloth from his mouth. The moment his lips were free, Xain said, “Jordel, let me help.”
His voice, so strong in the cramped space, made Loren jump in surprise. Jordel and Albern reached for their knives on instinct. But Xain did not move, and spoke no further word. Jordel had warned her that a firemage’s words of power were dangerous, and that is why he stayed gagged. Xain must have recognized their fear, for he did not utter so much as a murmur as Jordel silently studied him.
“Indeed, let him help us,” Annis muttered, looking down at her hands. “That has turned out so well in the past.”
Xain looked at her sadly, then returned his gaze to Jordel. His eyes were eager, earnest … Loren wanted him to speak, to explain himself. But the wizard waited.
“Go on,” said Jordel, his voice passive. Loren read nothing in the words.
“We must escape this stronghold,” said Xain. “Yet there are only six of us, and an army of our foes. But you know my strength. You know I can tip the scales in our favor. Allow this Jordel, and I shall prove my remorse.”
“You ask for our trust? You would have done better if your first words were an apology. For your actions in the valley — and for this.” Annis drew down her collar and pressed a finger to her neck and the terrible scar he had left in her skin.
“I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did to you, Annis, and to the rest of you as well. No words will ever make it right. Only action. Let me stand beside you, and atone for my wrongdoing by aiding our escape — or surrender my life if need be.”
“Then the debt of honor would be paid.”
“Annis,” said the Mystic in a warning tone.
“Still your tongue. I am done. Trust him if you wish, or not. I cannot sway you either way, and will not presume to try.”
Jordel looked solemnly at Annis, then returned his attention to Xain. The wizard sat still, eagerly looking up.
“Though she is overzealous in her condemnation, Annis is not entirely wrong,” said Jordel. “With such peril surrounding us, it seems an ill-advised time to test the limits of your honesty. Even so, I might agree — yet if you are recovered, it is only recently, and still you are weak from the hunger. We would gain precious little advantage by freeing you, and yet risk a great deal.”
“I feel strong,” Xain insisted, his voice rising. “I can help you, and do not speak idly — if it comes to it, I will stay behind to ensure your escape. Tis the least my honor demands.”
Jordel frowned, and his hand stole to his blade. “I have given my answer, Xain.”
The wizard wrinkled his brow, and Loren grew afraid that he would lash out with words of power, afraid of what his magic could do in such a small space. But as her gaze found his face, she saw it relax. His eyes grew calm. He shook his head sadly and turned away.
“As you say,” he muttered. “I deserve no better.”
Loren fed him, then replaced the gag without pleasure.
They sated their hunger, sitting around the Mystic in a small semicircle. First Loren told them all that had happened inside the stronghold, and all she had heard between Damaris and Trisken. But she did not say how much they had spoken of her, because it felt boastful. Once she finished, Jordel sat quietly while the others asked questions. The Mystic sat cross-legged, hands across his knees, like a village elder telling children a story. When the others had finished, he spoke his thoughts.
“Whatever their ultimate purpose, I know one thing: this fortress must not be allowed to stand. We must cast out both the Shades and the family Yerrin, for any scheme of theirs will only bring evil upon the nine lands.”
“I thought we meant to escape,” said Albern. “It seems you speak of a fight.”
“Tell me how you think we can escape without a fight, and I will call it good counsel,” said Jordel. “But they have guards with torches by night, and can see the road for miles in either direction by day. By vanquishing them — or, at least, by wreaking great havoc upon the stronghold, and thus distracting them — we stand our best chance at slipping away undetected.”
“But Jordel … understand I am not afraid,” said Gem carefully. “But we are only six — five, without the wizard, who we cannot rely upon. You have said there are scores of soldiers here. One does not need cowardice, only prudence, to see that the odds in such a battle are more than a little stacked in our enemies’ favor.”
“Yet where so few may be weak in open battle, they may have great strength in silence and secrecy,” said Jordel. “And I believe we can use our small number to attack the fortress.”
“Say on, then,” said Gem. “I should love to hear how five fighters may conquer more than fifty. Mayhap they will sing a song about it.”
“The family Yerrin has placed their caravan in the stronghold’s courtyard, with many wagons of magestones.”
Loren glanced at Xain. His eyes lit with interest, and she felt a shiver climb her spine.
“Magestones empower wizards, but they have other properties,” said Jordel. “A magestone set ablaze will burn with darkfire.”
“Darkfire,” whispered Loren. “Like Xain used upon the Dorsean ships outside Wellmont?”
The Mystic nodded. “And upon the road when he struck Vivien down. Darkfire cannot be doused without magic, and I would be surprised if they have any wizards here behind the castle walls. Water only spreads it, and it will burn through wood, cloth, flesh and even steel.”
“You mean to set the caravan ablaze,” said Albern. “A fine distraction, to be sure — so long as we do not let ourselves get caught in the fire.”
“That would be ill-advised, to be sure,” said Jordel with a small smile. “My thought is that Annis and Xain will hide here, within the walls. Once the flames are set, we will return to join them, then escape while our enemies are occupied by the destruction of their stores.”
Loren said, “It would be a grievous blow to the family Yerrin, to lose so valuable a cargo.”
“And if the Shades are angry at them for their dealings with you, believing you to be a Mystic spy, think of their wrath after this,” said Jordel. “Such a blow could sunder their alliance, and that could do nothing but help us in the future.”
And best of all, in Loren’s mind, they would take no lives. When Jordel first spoke of attacking the fortress, she thought he meant to break his vow by asking her to slay the Shades. But this would harm their enemies without spilling blood.
“You mean to leave me alone with the wizard again,” said Annis. “The last time that happened, I did not enjoy the experience.”
“Yet then he was unbound,” said Jordel. “If you wish to leave this stronghold as you claim, this offers our greatest chance.”
“Very well,” said Albern. “Tell us what you mean to do.”
thirty
LOREN STILL WORE HER GUARDSMAN’S uniform, but Jordel planned for Albern to go in disguise as well. Loren remembered the guardroom where they had found the clothing, so she slipped from the hidden passageway to fetch them. Her heart pounded the entire time, for though she was still unknown to most in the fortress, she was well aware that Trisken had seen her. If he had returned, and happened to chance upon her in the hallway, he would recognize her at once. But she saw no one; the stronghold seemed curiously quiet and empty.
She returned with clothing in Albern’s approximate size, and was pleased to see that everything fit. He lifted his arm, sniffed at the blue and grey cloth, and wrinkled his nose.
“You could not have found anything cleaner?”
“That might be your own stench. Tell me, bowyer, when was the last time you bathed?”
“Your sharp tongue wounds me.” He smirked. “The clothes will do, I suppose.”
“We will wait for nightfall,” said Jordel, “and hope the rain holds. If it does, the courtyard will be dark. Loren and Gem can slip into the shadows with ease. You will come with Albern and I, then the two of you will sneak in amongst the wagons while we distract the Yerrin guards. Set your fires and run, for the alarm will be swiftly raised.”
“Mayhap I should go alone,” Loren suggested. “The danger seems great.”
“And when has great danger swayed me?” said Gem. “I am not some frightened child. I fought in the cave when even you wished to stay your hand.”
Loren was about to cuff him, but Jordel said, “Boasting aside, I am afraid we need Gem. One fire might be doused, or perhaps they could separate one wagon from the caravan to cut their losses. Two flames will double our chances.”
As they waited for the sun to set, Jordel showed Annis the catch to open the secret passage, in case the rest of them were lost and she had to flee with the wizard. The girl’s eyes were frightened through his explanation, and she looked often at Xain. Loren found it hard to meet her eyes. She would have done anything to keep the two of them from being alone, especially after what Xain had done to Annis the last time. But Loren had little choice. And within her heart, she secretly believed Xain, and prayed that trust was not a mistake.
The dim light faded beneath the secret entrance door, and they set forth from their hiding spot. They listened carefully with ears pressed to the back of the shelf, but heard no sound. They slipped out into the cells and listened again at the door leading into the hallway. Still all was quiet. Gem stood beside Loren with his eyes wide and face pale, but his hands were steady and his mouth set firm with resolution. Loren had to remind herself that Gem had been a thief in Cabrus — no doubt this was not his first time slipping quietly about while guards sought to catch him.
They walked out of the jail and turned left, heading toward the guardroom. That way had the closest exit, and took them farther from the great hall, where Trisken was most likely to be. None of them wished to see the beast again.
They neared the guardroom and heard a door creak open around the corner. Footsteps entered the hall. Loren froze, as did Gem beside her. But Jordel moved quickly, throwing open the door and shoving them both into the guardroom. He and Albern, still clad in their uniforms, shut the door and stood in the hallway.
Loren pressed herself to the wall, ear cocked as she listened. Footsteps neared, then stopped not far away. “Well met,” came a familiar sounding voice. Then she placed it — the voice of the man who had spoken kindly to them when they ate the day before.
“Well met,” said Jordel easily. “You look as though you lost a fight with a raincloud.”
“This blasted storm will not cease. Even in the caves, there are many holes in the ceiling where the rainwater leaks.”
“You have come from the caves?” said Jordel.
“I am surprised you have not. More than half the stronghold has been sent in, to scour them for the spies.”
“I have not yet had the honor,” said Jordel. “But I would guess, from the stoop of your shoulders, that nothing has been found.”
“No more than the horses, which are in the courtyard now. Yet the commander will not let us surrender the search. Those caves are dangerous, but he pushes us on as if with a whip at our backs. Some men have fallen into pits, and at least one is lost — mayhap more, but we will not know until the next report.”
Loren gave Gem a look, and he returned it with a smile. Their horses were safe, at least.
“Still, the spies must be there,” said Jordel. “Given enough time, we will find them.”
“Mayhap,” said the man. “And yet … you know of the rope.”
“I do,” said Jordel solemnly. They had left a dangling rope after making their escape. Loren’s stomach did a somersault.
“Some of the men think they are within the stronghold now,” said the other guard, his tone muted. “It seems unlikely, for where could they hide? Yet you know how rumors persist. And I must admit I have looked cautiously over my shoulder more often than normal through tonight’s watch.”
“A silly fear,” said Jordel. “The rope might well have been their means of escape, not entry, for they say it ended ten feet or more above the ground.”
“I had not heard that. But still, if once they entered the fortress and escaped, who is to say they could not return?”
“I think they are well fled,” said Jordel. “Probably in some passage we have yet to find, leading from caves to mountains.”
“Let us hope you are right,” said the man with a sigh. “But here I have stood too long in soaking clothes. I shall leave you be.”
“As you say. The guardroom awaits you.”
Loren saw it for a signal at once — the man meant to enter the very room where she and Gem were hiding. She seized the boy’s arm and pulled him after her. There was a large chest of drawers in the room’s rear, set away from the wall. They ducked behind it just in time, Loren’s ribs grinding at the motion and making her wince. The door swung open. Footsteps echoed inside the room. The guardsman entered, then closed the door behind him.
The steps slowly drew closer. Loren heard the soft squish of wet leather, along with water dripping to the floor. They stopped several feet away, at one of the other chests of drawers. Gem’s hand crept to his knife.
Loren seized his arm and shook her head. He glared back at her, fingers tightening on the handle. She stared him down and he subsided. They heard the man remove his cloak and toss it atop the dresser with a wet slap, then he approached the drawers.
Gem jumped from his hiding place with a cry and the hiss of his dagger leaving its sheath.
“Gem, no!”
Loren came up behind him. The guardsman fell back, his hand flying to his sword, staring at them in shock.
“Who in the nine lands are you?” His eyes narrowed, his blade flew from the scabbard, and he growled, “The spies.”
The door flew open behind him. Together Albern and Jordel stormed into the room. The guard looked back at them in obvious relief.
“Brothers! I have found our hidden foes — or two, at least. Quickly, take—”
His words died in a gurgle as Albern drew a k
nife across his neck. The guard slumped to the ground, staring helplessly up into Jordel’s keen blue eyes.
“I am sorry,” said Jordel quietly. “Would that we had met in other circumstances.”
The guard’s body slackened as he died.
Loren wanted to be sick. “He helped us, Jordel. In the stronghold’s mess. You spoke with him and called him friend.”
“Then this is not the first time I have befriended a man, only to face him later on the other side of a battlefield. Were he wearing a cloak of red and not blue, gladly would I have fought beside him.”
“Remind me to choose my clothing carefully then,” said Loren, turning her eyes from the Mystic.
Jordel did not answer, but Loren was glad to see him look sick, rather than satisfied.
“None of us are blameless.” Albern was wiping his blade on the fallen guard’s cloak, but Loren saw no trace of triumph in his eyes.
“If you are weary of this talk by now, I am ten times more so.” Gem had sheathed his knife, and his eyes on the corpse were more irritated than disgusted. “Let us be rid of this mess and on with our mission, before someone else comes.”
At first Loren wanted to refuse and say that she would not touch the body, but soon realized that was foolish. Someone had to keep watch at the door, and better Jordel or Albern in their uniforms than Loren in her cloak. While Gem scrubbed at the bloody floor, she and Albern lifted the guard and stuffed him in one of the tall standing closets. Not much of a hiding place, but it would have to do, for they all felt the need to make haste.
When the room was clear, with no signs of struggle, Jordel scouted the hallway ahead. He turned to wave them on, and Albern walked out before Loren and Gem. They slunk along behind him, trying to make themselves tiny. Soon they stood before the door leading into the courtyard. Jordel paused for final instruction.
“It will be dark outside, but they will still have torches,” he said. “Keep to the shadows until you see an opening in the guards’ lines, then make for the wagons. Your escape will be easier, for the stronghold will likely be distracted by the burning. When you strike your flames, take great care not to get any darkfire upon you. It will burn you as easily as the magestones and the wagons, for it knows no difference.”
Darkfire: A Book of Underrealm Page 20