“Our woodshop was the first building to take the balls of the castle’s cannons.”
“Then we find whatever scraps of wood we can and build the catapults out here at the wall, where we are safe from the cannon’s blast.”
Illianah was not the only one surprised with the way she exhibited authority. Several of the men looked taken aback by her order. She held her breath, wondering if they would expel her from the room and admonish her for speaking out of turn, but they did not. Sir Tannin nodded and ordered two of the men to go out into the streets and make it happen.
“And crossbows?” Illianah asked. “I assume we have at least some.”
“Yes. Enough for fifty archers.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Have them take to the rooftops. Not all at once, mind you, but a dozen or so at a time. They need to hide behind chimneys and shoot at the soldiers standing guard on the battlement. If they do so with great stealth, the king’s soldiers will not be able to find the location of their attackers. We may only take out a few of the king’s soldiers at a time, but it will be enough to give the king’s men something to fear.”
Sir Tannin again nodded and gave the order to another man, who also left. Illianah glanced at Donovan. He looked proud, as if she was a perfectly sketched portrait that he had drawn with his own hand. “Perhaps I should have put you in charge of the war against Burchess,” he said.
“You have not even heard how we are going to get into the castle.”
Donovan’s eyebrow arched. “Are you planning on walking up to the portcullis and demanding they let you in?”
Ignoring his comment, she asked, “What does nearly every castle have that no one is supposed to know about?”
Both his eyebrows arched this time.
“A secret passageway,” they both said at the same time.
“I have never been able to find one,” Sir Tannin said, “Not in all my years spent at the castle.”
“No, you would not find it, for it is located in the king’s chamber.”
Sir Tannin blinked and cocked his head as if he had just seen a wheel for the first time. “Right in the king’s chambers?” he asked. When Illianah nodded, he asked, “And the entry point is where?”
“On Tower Row.”
“Directly across from the castle?” he asked.
“Yes. It was used by King Derringer, and possibly others, as way to get to their mistresses without having said women harbored within the castle walls.” Illianah did not find this information out until a few years ago—when she realized that such relationships tainted the history of the Boyés—but she had actually found the tunnel in her youth. She had taken advantage of her father’s trip to New Burchess to investigate his chambers, which were always off-limits to the king’s daughter. However, when she had done the same thing several years later after discovering the purpose of such a tunnel, she had found that the tunnel had been sealed off at the entrance to the boudoir of the large house on Tower Row.
“You know the house?” Donovan asked.
That was where her plan got complicated. When she had explored the tunnel as a youth of ten, she had entered the empty house to explore. She had looked out the windows and knew the house was just a stone’s throw away from the castle’s east keep. “Approximately.”
“Approximately?” Sir Tannin asked.
“I have never seen it from the outside, but I think we can find it.”
“I do not know how. We cannot be running around Tower Row knocking on each door with a legion of soldiers standing atop the wall just thirty feet off.”
“I know it will be dangerous, but it is our only chance to get into the castle swiftly, before the Burchessian army comes banging at the gate.”
Sir Tannin studied her carefully and then he nodded and said, “Perhaps if we wait until nightfall to find the house …”
“No,” Illianah interrupted. “We do it now. They think the knowledge of that passageway died with me. It will be completely unexpected.”
“Which is why we wait until nightfall. If they see us milling about houses on Tower Row, they will know what we are up to,” Sir Tannin said.
“At the rate they are destroying houses and buildings, we have no guarantee that house will still be standing at nightfall,” Illianah replied, setting her jaw firmly.
Sir Tannin hesitated and again looked to Donovan before he would make a decision. Finally Sir Tannin nodded and said, “All right. We will prepare to move out. Fredrick,” he said, calling to one of the other men, “Find us some armor. And we will need an escort of at least a dozen armed men.”
“Can you tell us every detail you know about the house?” Donovan asked.
She turned to Donovan, confused at his inquiry. “Why would I need to tell you about it when I can just show you?”
“You are not coming with,” he said kindly.
“Of course I am. Why would you think I would not?”
He smiled, but not because he was happy. It looked like he was trying to keep her from launching an attack. “It is much too dangerous, Illianah. We cannot risk the life that you so recently won.”
“Then you are not to go either?” she asked.
“I am needed. I know the inside of the castle.”
“Then I go as well. You did say that whatever we do, we do it together.”
He nodded somberly. He would not go back on his word. “Get her a full suit of armor,” he said to Sir Tannin.
The two men then began discussing how many men they should send into the passageway and what tactic they should employ to take over the castle once inside. It was Sir Tannin’s suggestion that they lie in wait inside the passageway until they are certain that the king would retire and then stab him while he slept.
“No!” Illianah gasped. “His life is not ours to take.”
Both men stared at her as if she had just spoken in a foreign tongue.
“Illianah,” Donovan said, his voice low and gentle, “Your father ordered your death. You do not owe him tribute.”
“And this is not the time to offer compassion,” Sir Tannin said. “If the king is dead and we are able to get to Prince Harrington’s chambers next, the castle will be ours. It is the easiest way.”
“Possibly the only way,” Donovan added.
“We do not have the authority to judge him and order his death. And if we capture the throne through bloodshed, we will not have established a legitimate claim on the crown. We will be nothing more than murderous renegades,” Illianah said. With as much pain as her father had caused her, she found it strange she was defending his life. However, whether he lived or died was not for her to decide. The only thing that mattered was that the castle was captured; that could be done by keeping King Gregory and Prince Harrington alive.
“Same tactic,” she said, “but we only capture the King, not kill him. We bind him, take out his guards, and then do the same thing with Prince Harrington. We can secure the entire interior of the castle under the cover of darkness, and when the sun rises, we show the soldiers atop the battlement that we have them surrounded and we have their leaders. They will have no choice but to surrender.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Finding the correct house on Tower Row was difficult, to say the least. Had it just been an ordinary day, Illianah could have taken her time walking up and down the street gauging each house and its distance from the east keep, but as it was, they could not even peek their heads around the corner of the houses. If any of their comrades were to step into the street, even for a second, the Burchessian soldiers on the wall would be alerted to the renegade’s activity and mortar would quickly fly.
They gained entrance to the homes from behind, typically using a servant’s entrance, and then made their way from room to room, hoping Illianah would recognize the house as the one that she had stumbled upon as a youth. But that house had been vacant when she had walked through the rooms; all of these houses were—until earlier that day—inhabited. At first, it felt aw
kward intruding on someone’s private living quarters, but Illianah had to lay that hesitation aside and focus on the task only she could complete.
She narrowed it down to three houses; each was similar in size and structure. “It could be this one,” she said at the last house.
“But we have searched each of the bedchambers,” Sir Tannin said, “and there is not a secret passageway.”
“That is because it was sealed off.”
“What?” Sir Tannin was not the only one who had replied. Donovan’s voice had inquired as well.
“When was this passage sealed off?” Sir Tannin asked.
“I do not know for certain. I tried to explore the passageway a few years back, but it had been sealed off with brick and mortar.”
“And you did not think this was pertinent to divulge when we were discussing this mission?” It was clear that Sir Tannin was out of patience with Illianah, even if she was royalty.
“I did not,” she answered sternly. “The wall can be easily taken apart. I will do it with my own hands, brick by brick if I have to. It does not stop our mission: it only slows it down.”
Donovan did not look irritated with her like Sir Tannin did. The expression on Donovan’s face was one of amusement, and she could not help but notice he still looked proud of her actions. It made her heart warm. That was an expression she was completely unfamiliar with here in her home territory of Burchess.
Illianah went into the biggest bedchamber in the house and—first making certain she could not be seen from the window—she looked across the street to where the massive castle wall separated the city from their elite leadership. The east keep was close enough that she could see the outline of the soldiers’ helmets as they hid behind merlons. “This is it,” she said.
“Are you certain?” Donovan asked.
“Yes. This is the same view I saw as a child. I entered the room from there,” she pointed to her left, to the long wall which held a dressing table and a wardrobe. “It must be behind the wardrobe.”
The men slid the wardrobe away from the wall, but nothing was there but plaster. “It is not here, Illianah,” Donovan said.
“It has to be. They must have re-plastered the entire wall.”
Donovan, Sir Tannin, and the other men accompanying them looked at her blankly as if she had just given them a supper plate without any food. She began running her hand along the wall, hoping to feel brick at the surface of the plaster, but the entire length of the wall felt the same. Her heart sank, but she could not let the men see her defeat. She glanced to the window again. This was the room. She was absolutely certain. “I need a spear,” she said.
Without questioning, one of the soldiers handed her a spear which she promptly began stabbing into the helpless wall. Each time she jabbed the spear into the plaster, the plaster would collapse and leave a hole as big as her fist. But the sixth time she stuck the spear into the wall, the tip of the spear did not submerge in the plaster; instead she heard a dull thunk. She hit the wall again and had the same result. “Here,” she said, handing the spear back to the soldier. Then she began to pull apart the fractured plaster with her hand.
And there, behind the plaster, was the brick.
She smiled to herself.
“Well done,” Donovan said, coming to aid her to remove the plaster.
With several more hands pitching in, the plaster was quickly removed. Since they did not have proper tools to remove the mortar from the bricks, swords, spears and daggers were used. It was as Illianah had said—the wall was taken down brick by brick, and much of it was done with her own hands.
Once a large enough hole was created for a man to climb through, a torch was lit and introduced into the passageway. Illianah’s skin crawled at first glance. The passageway was lined with cobwebs. She must have been a brave child, because crawling into that tunnel was the last thing Illianah would ever want to do now.
“We are about three hundred feet from the castle,” she said. “If I remember right, there is a steep decline at this end as we go beneath the wall. Then there are actually several hundred steps as we climb the tower to the king’s chambers.”
“Several hundred. Meaning we could fit one man on every stair?” Sir Tannin asked.
“Possibly. If needed.”
“I think we should get as many men into the castle as we can,” he replied.
“It will be difficult to get all those men into this house unnoticed,” Donovan said.
“We go into the passageway first,” Illianah said. “And we wait. Send the extra men to the house after dark, that way, if the unfortunate happens and they are discovered, we will still have access to the castle.”
It was quickly agreed upon. Two soldiers left to summon the aid of more rebels from the gatehouse at the city’s wall; the rest of their group entered the passageway. Illianah’s stomach felt like it was entwined with her rapidly beating heart. She was glad she was not the one holding the torch, or her men would have seen how badly she was shaking. Not only did the dewiness of the passageway and the small creatures she knew lived therein make her hair stand on end, there was the constant fear they would be discovered and not be able to escape this tomb.
They made their way up the tower and sat silently upon the stairs. No one needed to be reminded to be quiet, as even the smallest whisper would notify ears on the other side that something was amiss.
Illianah rested her head on Donovan’s shoulder. She inhaled his scent deeply and locked the memory of it within her heart. She did not have the comfort of knowing that she would be able to rest on his shoulder tomorrow or any day for that matter, but she felt selfish in worrying about her heart. Her citizens in the city of St. Moraine did not have homes they could return to. They had likely lost loved ones, possibly even children. Their mourning echoed in her heart. This had to be made right. They had fought to protest her death, and she must find a way of restoring their freedom.
***
She had fallen asleep on Donovan’s shoulder and she knew she must have slept with a smile upon her face, for it was there when she awoke. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, knowing she could not vocally express her appreciation. He replied by kissing her forehead: a simple gesture which made her heart soar.
Since the passageway was devoid of light, save it be the torch they carried, they had no way of knowing whether or not it was nightfall, but it seemed as if they had been sitting on those stairs for weeks. Illianah’s posterior was cold; her body felt stiff.
Soon, a light came from the bottom of the stairwell. She held her breath and prayed this was their reinforcements and not her father’s soldiers. Sir Tannin backtracked, going down the stairs to find the source of the light. When he returned with a smile upon his face, she knew they were momentarily safe. The stairwell quickly filled with brave men who had left their wives and children behind at the outer wall. She did not know how many of these men had been trained in warfare, but she did know they had the burning desire to protect their families, and that was all that was needed.
The first group of a dozen men entered the king’s chambers and after a long, tense moment, Sir Tannin returned to the stairwell to call upon the other men. Sir Tannin would not allow Illianah to go any farther than the top of the stairwell, and she was told that her presence in the castle should not be yet known.
“Might I go?” Donovan asked of her.
She smiled at the sweetness with which he asked, but it pained her greatly to know that yes, he must go. He knew the castle. She nodded and whispered, “Prince Harrington will be one flight down.” Her own bedchamber was three flights down, but she knew he would not be there. Her bedchamber was not nearly as stately as the bedchamber which was designed for a son of the king—the place which Leif had so quickly filled in her father’s decrepit heart.
Donovan gave her hand a squeeze and left, making it feel as if he had taken a chunk of her heart with him.
There was nothing she could do. Nothing but wait.
Illianah sat in her father’s darkened bedchamber for what felt like a lifetime. He had been taken in his sleep, according to plan. The renegades had surprise on their side, yet she knew the tables would soon turn. Their presence in the castle could not remain secret for long.
Four men were left in the king’s bedchamber to protect her, and she knew others were outside the door standing guard, but that did not help her feel any more confident that she would not again be brought to her doom. She felt like an intruder in the castle—in her own home. The power Prince Harrington and her father had over the castle and the kingdom made it feel as if a storm cloud was hanging over her head, threatening to pour rain at any moment. But she tried to push her insecurities aside. They could take this castle. They had to take this castle.
A messenger was sent to her room from time to time to report on the invasion. Prince Harrington had been captured while he slumbered as well. Then the inner portcullis and the great hall were secured. And eventually, news came that the king, the prince, Illianah’s cousin Lord Nolan—who was second in line to the throne—and every cabinet member who slept within the castle that night had been captured. They were taken to the north tower prison, which had been emptied of all the occupants who had previously been accused of crimes against the crown. Illianah had thought once the castle was secure, the remainder of the night would be restful so they could prepare for the battle they would have with the castle wall in the morning, but soon Donovan and Sir Tannin came back into the king’s chambers to tell her they had other plans.
They planned on bringing more renegades into the castle—by the hundreds—and then setting out to capture the armory so all their men could be armed by sunrise. “You will risk giving away our location,” she said. “There is a large chance that the soldiers on the wall will know we are within the castle if you attack the armory.”
“Yes,” Sir Tannin said, “but we can accept that. They cannot turn the cannons and use them against the castle, so we will finally be evenly matched, even if the sun has yet to rise. They cannot see in the dark any better than us.”
The Reign of Trees Page 28