Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3)

by Matt Heppe

  “They captured Handrin, but I think Orlos took Forsvar.” Escalan went to a shelf where he removed some manacles. “We’ll put these on you. I’ll tell anyone we run into that I’m taking you to see the queen. We have to hurry though before someone comes.”

  Telea nodded. What else was there to do? There was no retreat. She could only go forward. She put her hands out at Escalan’s request, and he wrapped the cold iron around her wrists. “I’ve closed them, but they aren’t locked.”

  “What about you? Won’t they know you?”

  Escalan took a blue cloak from a hook on the wall and threw it over his shoulders. There was a hood there as well, and he put it on. “By the time I’m close enough to recognize, it will be too late.” He picked up a cudgel and a small buckler. “This will do.”

  After locking the door to the jail cell corridor, he led Telea to the door. He poked his head into the hall. “Come on.”

  To the right there was a short hall to a door. “Outside,” he said. The door was slightly ajar. Escalan locked the door to the guard room and took Telea left down a long, dark hall lit by a single lantern at its end. There was a heavy door there as well.

  “Let one of these keys work,” Escalan said. Telea breathed a sigh of relief when the first key worked. They went through and locked the door behind them. “That’ll buy us some time.”

  He took her by the elbow and led her down the more brightly lit hall. They passed several doors, most closed, before they passed one that was open.

  There was a man inside donning his aketon. For a moment Telea thought they had passed without notice, but then a voice called out from behind them.

  “What are you doing there? Where are you going?”

  Escalan didn’t slow. “Taking a prisoner to the queen. She has information about the prince.”

  Telea didn’t dare look back. Every passing heartbeat she expected to hear a demand for them to halt, but then they turned an intersection and she felt a wave of relief.

  “Not much further now,” Escalan whispered. They were in a wider hallway now. It was much more brightly lit. Escalan moved her along quickly. There were voices nearby, and then they turned another corner.

  Twenty strides ahead two men guarded a stairwell. “Get behind me when it happens,” Escalan murmured. Telea slowed a pace at his words, sudden dread gripping her. Escalan had her by the arm and forced her along at his pace.

  “Hold there,” one of the men said. Both wore mail over aketons and held poleaxes. Over their armor they wore blue tabards with the emblem of three gold crowns.

  “Taking a prisoner to the queen.”

  “Who are you? Take that hood off.”

  “Don’t be a ninny,” Escalan said. They were only paces away from the guards. Escalan let go of Telea’s arm and leapt forward. Suddenly the cudgel was in his right hand, but he didn’t strike with it. Instead he punched the man in the face with his buckler. The man reeled backwards, blood pouring from his nose.

  The second guard raised his poleaxe, but Escalan was in close to him and the man had trouble bringing his weapon to bear. Escalan struck him in the arm and he cried out as he was disarmed. Escalan swung the buckler like an axe, hitting the man in the helm and sending him falling back against the wall. A quick blow with the cudgel and the guard slumped to the floor.

  “Watch out!” Telea called. The first guard stood, his dagger in his hand. Escalan blocked the dagger with his buckler and then felled the man with two quick swings of his cudgel.

  The fight had lasted only heartbeats. Escalan’s attack had been a blur of violence. “I’ve seen a lot of fighting,” Telea said after a moment. “You’re as fast as any warrior I’ve ever seen.”

  Escalan pulled a sword from one of the guard’s scabbards. It was a long, single bladed weapon. It reminded her of the scimitars used by imperial light cavalry but heavier and not so curved.

  “I was once a page to Champion Nidon. I’ve sought to emulate him in every way even if all I could ever hope to be was Handrin’s valet-at-arms.” He glanced down the hall behind them. “Come on. We have little time and there’ll be no going back.”

  Escalan started up the stairs, the naked blade in his hand. Telea followed as fast as she could. Her head still hurt, but she could think more clearly now. She needed food and rest but would get neither any time soon. She was committed now and would follow Escalan to the end.

  The tight, spiral staircase wound up and up into the keep. They passed two doors, both closed. The only light in the staircase came from lanterns placed by each door. Escalan ignored them and ran up the stairs. Telea followed as best she could, almost losing sight of him.

  When she reached a third door, Escalan was there waiting for her. Without a word he took her by the arm and helped her up the stairs. Escalan wasn’t a big man, but his grip was powerful and he almost lifted her up the staircase.

  Shouts echoed up the stairs as they passed the fourth door. “One more flight, and then it’s over.” He glanced down the stairs. “One way or another.”

  Escalan motioned her to be silent as they approached the top of the stairs. Telea’s legs burned with the effort of the climb, despite the fact she was very fit, hardened by a year of war. Escalan slowed and crept ahead of her, peeking around another bend.

  More shouts, very faint, echoed up the stairs. More guards would be coming, pounding up the stairs. At least they’d be slowed by their heavy armor. Escalan disappeared ahead of her.

  Telea followed him and saw that the staircase had come to an end. There was a window to her right. She looked outside and saw the front of the great keep. There were three balconies along the wall. The next floor down had windows, but below that there were only arrow slits. Where she stood, they were four stories above the courtyard. The warning bells had stopped ringing, but everywhere she looked she saw soldiers running.

  Escalan crept past an open door and down a very short hall. He glanced around a corner and then came quickly back to her. “Handrin is here,” he whispered, “but there are six guards in the hall.”

  “What do we do?”

  A door slammed below them, the sound echoing upwards. The shouts were louder now. “Either I fight them, or we sneak past. But we can only do that if you aren’t afraid of heights.”

  Telea smiled despite her pain. “Heights don’t bother me. Not anymore.”

  “Come here.” He went to the window and climbed out. She saw him put his sword and buckler on the ledge before disappearing around the corner.

  Telea looked out the window and saw Escalan standing there on a very narrow ledge, gripping ornate stonework to keep himself from falling to the paved courtyard below. He let go with one hand and offered it to her.

  “Alarm! Guards!” The voices were very close now. Without giving it another thought, Telea lifted herself onto the sill and then stepped onto the ledge next to Escalan.

  The ledge was far too narrow to truly stand on. It just offered her feet some purchase while she held herself close to the wall with her hands. “This way,” Escalan said, “or they’ll see you through the window.”

  Escalan shifted several paces to the right and she followed. They soon came to a corner and Escalan turned left. Soldiers clambered by—she clearly heard them through the window.

  If a guard simply glanced out the window, there was a good chance they wouldn’t be seen. But if he was more vigilant, and stuck his head out, they were doomed. They were utterly helpless.

  Escalan smiled at her. “When you’re fourteen and you and your closest friend are trying to escape your minders…well, you find a way.”

  “Where do we go?”

  “There’s a balcony. Handrin’s apartment.”

  She knew it was there but didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to see the ground below. The sheer face of the cliff she and Mekeles had scaled had been thousands of strides higher, but she would be just as dead if she fell from the side of this building.

  At least the handholds were better here
. The sculptors had done a fine job creating smooth, fine figures in their workings. She wondered if it was the queen who had demanded the artwork that would lead to her downfall.

  There was little light this high above the bailey below—just enough for Telea to find her way. Hopefully not enough for the soldiers in the courtyard to see them as they made their way across the roofline. It would be an easy crossbow shot to take them down.

  Sweat dripped down Telea’s brow. One loose stone and she was finished. She tried not to think about it and followed Escalan as he crept towards the balcony. At last he made it and climbed over the ornate wooden railing. He took Telea’s arm and helped her cross.

  The balcony wasn’t large. It was just big enough for two people to stand on and look out over the bailey below. Double glass doors separated it from the room within. Telea frowned at the strong, pungent smell coming from within the room. By his expression, Escalan smelled it as well.

  “She has him drugged,” Escalan whispered. “Just as she did with his father.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When King Boradin came back from the Battle of King’s Crossing he was gravely injured. The queen didn’t want him to recover, so she kept him drugged. He later died, and many wonder if the queen wasn’t responsible.”

  Escalan tested the door, but it didn’t budge. “I’ll have to force it.”

  “The guards will hear you.”

  Escalan shook his head. “There won’t be anyone in the room with him, not with all those fumes. And it’s a weak latch.” He put his shoulder to the door and pushed hard against it. Telea cringed back, expecting it to crash open at any moment.

  There was a snap, and Escalan suddenly lunged forward. Telea caught the back of his shirt just as he caught a hold of the swinging door. For a moment they froze, listening for any sound of alarm.

  Telea had to choke back a cough at the clouds of smoke flowing out of the room. She and Escalan pushed back the windows and curtains as far as they would go, hoping to let some fresh air into the room. Still the fumes made her head spin, and she had to take a knee.

  The room was Handrin’s bedroom, and he lay there on his big, overstuffed mattress. There was some light from a brass lantern and more from the glowing embers of a brazier.

  “Do you need help?” Escalan asked her.

  She shook her head and she drew in a few deep breaths. “I just need a moment.” Escalan offered his hand and then raised her to her feet when she took it. “We have to stop the smoke,” she said. Telea took a deep breath and went to the brazier and covered it with its decorative silver lid.

  The fumes made her woozy after just a few moments in the room and she had to go to the window for a breath of fresh air. Escalan joined her there. “I’ll check on Handrin,” she said. “Will you watch the door?”

  “It won’t do much good,” he said. “I had to leave my weapons on the ledge.”

  “So all our hope lies in his recovery?” Telea said, nodding towards the bed.

  “That’s about right.”

  The smoke cleared only slowly. Telea took one last breath of fresh air and headed for the bed. She glanced up at the sounds of nearby shouting—somewhere in the next room, or just beyond. Escalan strode to the cold fireplace, picked up an iron poker, and then went to the door.

  Telea picked up the lamp and hurried to Handrin’s side. His head was bandaged, and blood soaked through the linen. He was deeply unconscious, his breath and heartbeat were both very slow.

  He wouldn’t recover on his own any time soon. She’d have to heal him. She waved Escalan closer. “I have to do a healing. He’s too gravely injured.”

  “Can you do it quietly?”

  “Yes, reasonably so. There’s a problem, though. I have to summon an animal for the healing, and it will have to be a large one given the seriousness of his wounds. We can’t do that here.”

  Rayne glanced to the door. “When you healed Orlos you used a person.”

  “It wasn’t my choice. The magic called her. I can’t explain why. Maybe because he’s a spiridus or because his crisis was so deep. It doesn’t matter, even if I could call a person, someone would surely notice.”

  “Use me.”

  Telea shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. If the healing fails it might cause a powerful demon to be summoned. More so as you are doing this voluntarily. I might not be able to control it.”

  “Does it matter? Are we getting out of this alive if we fail? We are past making choices. There is only one thing we can do, and that is go forward. The way of the warrior is death.”

  “I’m a healer, not a warrior.” The words sounded false even to her.

  Escalan shook his head. “Not anymore. You have a cause, and you’ve killed for it. You are a warrior.”

  She wanted to deny it, but he was right. Her vows were long broken. She’d killed now, more than once. A weight seemed to fall from her shoulders. There was no going back to the person she once was. She was a warrior now.

  Not a warrior, her demon said. A summoner.

  The demon was right. The thought shamed her.

  “If I call a demon, and can’t control it, you might suffer a fate worse than death.”

  “Is that what happened to the guard downstairs?”

  Telea nodded.

  “But you called that demon on purpose…in order to save yourself?”

  “If the Dromost Gate falls, it is the end of this world. I did what I had to do.”

  “Now you must heal Handrin, and you’ll use my blood to do it.”

  Telea met his gaze. “I need a knife,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Orlos ran down the spiral staircase three and four steps at a time. He had to escape the huge building before word got out that Forsvar had been taken. If they closed the doors and barred the keep, he might never get out.

  Should he even be making the attempt at all? He thought of Sulentis. Did Orlos owe it to the prince to help him? Sulentis had saved his life. But there was nothing he could have done. Escape was the only option.

  How many doors had he passed? Two? Three? He couldn’t remember how many windows he’d gone by on the way up the outer wall. He’d have to check the next window to see how high he was.

  Orlos never saw the soldier he crashed into. The man appeared around a turn, and then they both were tumbling down the steep stairwell. Orlos’s only thought was to keep a hold of Forsvar.

  The moment he stopped, Orlos scrambled to his feet and raised Forsvar. The soldier lay headfirst down the stairs, unmoving. Orlos didn’t check to see if the man was unconscious or dead. He started down the stairs, wincing as his left foot hit the first stair.

  He’d broken his ankle. Sprained it badly at least. There was no time to tend it, though. He went another step and then went back up to the soldier and drew the man’s heavy, single-bladed sword from its sheath.

  Orlos hefted the sword. If only he’d taken his lessons with Kael more seriously. At least he had Forsvar. Perhaps the Godshield’s magic would see him through a fight. It would have to.

  Orlos drew his spiridus cloak around him and continued down the stairs. There was still no alarm, but he was slower now—his ankle just wouldn’t allow the same reckless speed as before. He supposed he should have killed the man on the stairs, but it was beyond him to do such a thing. Orlos had never killed anyone and couldn’t imagine the first to be an unconscious man. He hoped there never would be a first.

  Two guards stood at the bottom of the staircase, both leaning against the wall. Orlos heard an echoing shout behind him and grimaced. There was no place for him to go but straight forward. The hall was dark beyond the guards. Unfortunately, a bright lantern lit the base of the stairwell where they stood.

  Even with his shadows over him, Orlos wasn’t certain he could make it past the two men unseen. There was another shout behind him, but neither of the guards turned at the sound. Orlos crept closer to them, sweat dripping from his brow.

 
Keeping his shadows wrapped tightly around him, Orlos strode between the two guards. The two men were so close he nearly touched them. Hope sprang in his heart when he realized they were dozing.

  He tried not to think about it and focused on his cloak instead, but the burning pain in his left leg made it hard to concentrate. He felt the tattered edges of his cloak fraying.

  “What’s that?” one guard asked as Orlos passed.

  Orlos glanced over his shoulder. The guard, brows furrowed, stared back at him for a heartbeat before looking to his companion. The other guard hadn’t awakened and received a jab in the gut from a poleaxe butt.

  “Hey, you damned akinos! Wake up.” He looked towards the retreating Orlos and then turned towards the stairs. “There’s something going on upstairs.”

  Whatever the man had thought he’d seen, his attention was drawn up the stairs now. Orlos didn’t have much time left before the alarm caught up to him. He reached the intersection and found himself in a much larger hall. Larger and more brightly lit. To his right, large doors opened to the bailey. There were four men by the door—all alert.

  There was no choice but to slip past them and hope that his spiridus cloak continued to hold true. Orlos made his way closer. The hall opened up to a larger foyer. There were tapestries hung on the walls here and tables bearing trophies of past glories. Orlos didn’t pay them much heed as he made his way around the edges of the room.

  Orlos didn’t see any way he could slip past them. The doors were open, he had the hot summer night to thank for that, but the four guards were too closely packed around the entrance. He took his sword hilt in his shield hand and picked up a porcelain vase.

  With one last deep breath, he hurled the vase across the foyer and down the opposite hall. It shattered, the sudden noise causing the guards to jump.

  “What was that?” a guard asked.

  “Check it out.”

  Two of the guards ran down the hall, and Orlos went for the door. The two remaining guards were looking away from him, and he thought he could slip behind the nearest of them.