by C. J. Archer
I hugged her, suddenly overwhelmed with love for the woman who had known Dane all his life; she had tended to his childhood scrapes, cooked his favorite meals, and probably been more of a mother to him than Yelena. “It’ll be all right, Martha.” I drew away and clasped her hands in mine. “Go and pack for yourself and your mistress. If a rescue attempt is successful, it may not be safe here for you after tonight.”
“How can it be successful? It’s hopeless.”
“Just do as I say and be prepared to flee.”
I left her looking small and miserable in the doorway and headed off with Kitty and Meg. We followed the river until we came across the area where the Rotherhydes lived in a mansion set amid extensive grounds.
“Civilization at last,” Kitty said when she spied the grand residences at the end of tree-lined drives. “It reminds me of our townhouse in Tilting. The house on Gladstow’s country estate is much larger, of course, but our townhouse is rather like these.”
“You can’t even see them,” Meg said with a roll of her eyes. “Just the gatehouses.”
“With gatehouses as grand as these, the houses themselves must be lovely.”
Although the guards at the gatehouse recognized me from the night Dane and I first visited, I reintroduced myself as a friend of Laylana’s. Still, they hesitated.
“Tell your master and mistress that I have a plan,” I added.
One of the guards ran off to check at the house. He returned moments later, out of breath, and immediately opened the gate. The driveway was illuminated by torches, reminding me of the avenue leading to the palace at Mull in the evenings. My heart pinched with longing for my village, the palace, and my friends.
If tonight went horribly wrong, I would never see them again.
The door opened and we were ushered into the same drawing room as last time. Yelena was there with Ewen and Eeliss Rotherhyde. Yelena grasped my elbows before I had a chance to set two feet in the room.
“What is your plan?” she pressed.
I tried to extricate myself from her grip but it was too tight. “Before we get to that—"
“Tell me!”
“Yelena, perhaps you should calm yourself.” Ewen indicated she should sit. When she did not let me go, Eeliss pried her fingers off and steered her away.
I introduced Kitty and Meg to the Rotherhydes and Dane’s mother. Meg did not make any attempt to hide her birthmark, despite Eeliss’s stares. Yelena didn’t seem to notice her at all. She sat regally, her chin high, her shoulders back. But the hands in her lap twisted together in a white-knuckled clasp.
Kitty performed a perfect curtsy to Yelena. Yelena blinked hard, taken aback. Then she put out her hand, and Kitty kissed it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Yelena said formally. “What did you say your name is?”
“Kitty, the duchess of Gladstow.”
“Kitty!” both Meg and I cried.
She shushed us. “These people won’t tell my husband that I’m still alive. They have a greater secret of their own to keep.”
“Not for much longer,” Yelena said.
Eeliss eyed Kitty up and down, her nose wrinkled. “You don’t look like a duchess.”
Kitty touched the hair at the nape of her neck. Without a maid to fix it every day, it had become unruly. “It’s been a long few weeks traveling in less than favorable conditions.”
Yelena cut her off with a hand signal that had Kitty’s nostrils flaring in indignation. “Miss Cully, please elaborate on this plan you mentioned to the guard. You are referring to releasing my son, are you not?”
“I am,” I said.
She drew in a deep breath, as if it were the first proper one she’d taken in some time.
Ewen angled a chair towards Kitty, encouraging her to sit with a smile. She cast a pointed look at Meg and me and he hastily arranged chairs for us too.
“How do you propose to have Dane released?” Yelena asked.
“We’re going to break him out of the prison,” I said.
Ewen crossed his legs and shook his head. “It can’t be done. Not without an armed force, and I doubt you have that. You haven’t been here long enough to gather the right sort of support.”
Yelena sat forward. “Do not endanger my son’s life by employing Freedland mercenaries. They might go to the government, demand more, and then tell them your plans. You can’t trust them.”
Ewen agreed. “You need mercenaries from Dreen or Vytill, ones with no interest in Freedland affairs. I can’t even call on my own guards for this. My captain informed me his men won’t be involved in any attempts to free someone from prison. I threatened to relieve them of their positions, but he was still doubtful. So much for loyalty.”
“What if you explained the man they were freeing was the rightful heir to the throne?” Kitty asked. “Did you suggest your captain tell his men that?”
Ewen pressed his lips together. “That would be unwise at this juncture.”
Kitty frowned, somewhat confused, but Meg and I knew why. There wasn’t enough support for a monarchy in the lower and middle orders of Noxford. If the wealthy could gather their forces quickly enough then it might be a different story, but the royalists knew they didn’t have the numbers. Guards, and men like them, would not risk their necks for a man they didn’t want to see free. The Rotherhydes couldn’t even use their money to bribe the prison warden and guards. Sometimes, money wasn’t enough.
Ewen and Yelena’s warnings drove home the precariousness of Dane’s position. We could not rely on assistance from anyone. If ordinary folk knew who we were breaking out of prison, they would inform the authorities immediately. We were extremely fortunate that Vance and his gang had agreed to help. I suspected that was because we promised to take Dane back to Glancia, and they loved Max too much to allow him to do it alone.
No wonder Yelena was keen to hear our plan; they evidently had none. I briefly outlined how we would remove the threat of the jailhouse guards and get Dane out, without mentioning Vance’s name. I went on to tell them how the boat we planned to use to leave Noxford needed repairs and Dane needed a place to hide until it was ready to set sail.
“Leave?” Yelena shook her head over and over. “No! He cannot leave. He’s needed here. He must show his face to our supporters. None will believe he’s really alive if they don’t see him in person.”
I stared at her. She would risk the life of her own son for a cause that only a few wealthy families believed in? “The longer Dane stays in Freedland, the more likely his discovery,” I said. “He has to leave. Staying is too dangerous.”
“You do not have a say in this. He is my son and the heir to Averlea.”
“I agree that it’s not my decision. It’s Dane’s.”
Yelena looked as if she would argue the point further, but she resumed her regal pose with stiff back and superior air. It was Ewen who protested.
“Now listen here. Dane must lead the foreign mercenaries and any other forces we can muster. He isn’t merely a figurehead to rally behind, he is a very capable leader. When the people see how capable, they will change their minds and want him as their king.”
“Quite right,” Eeliss said. “Dane is a magnificent man and will be a popular leader. He shines with a sword in his hand and on horseback. I’ve seen him practicing myself. You can’t deny him the opportunity to prove himself to the people, Miss Cully.”
“I am not denying him anything. I am advising caution.”
“He’s been preparing for this his whole life,” Ewen added. “We believe the time has finally come to reveal the royal heir to the people and let them see what he’s capable of, and imagine how powerful Averlea could be with him on the throne. He deserves this opportunity.”
“He’ll be in danger if he stays!” I appealed to Yelena in the hope she would consider her son’s life too important to risk.
But she simply regarded me levelly. “If he had his memory, he would never agree to leave with you.”
“How long will it take you to gather enough support to take back the throne?” Meg asked.
Kitty and I stared wide-eyed at her. What was she up to?
“Two months,” Ewen said. “Three at the most.”
“Then I have a proposition that may suit everyone. Your friends will believe your word, surely,” she said to Ewen and Eeliss. “If you tell them you saw Dane in person, and he is safely in Glancia with Laylana, won’t that be enough for them to offer their support?”
Yelena clicked her tongue and muttered under her breath.
Eeliss looked to her husband. “They would believe us,” she said.
“Then why not let Dane leave while you continue to work here,” Meg went on. “When you are satisfied that you’re sufficiently ready, you can send word to him in Mull and he can return.”
Three months would give Dane enough time to decide if he wanted to pursue his birthright. It would also give us time to find Brant. With his memory back, Dane could make a calculated decision on what he believed was best. Not what his mother thought, or the Rotherhydes, or even me. It would truly be his decision.
I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about him becoming king here. Mere days ago, he was just the captain of the guards and my lover. I tried not to allow myself to wonder what him claiming his birthright meant for us.
One step at a time. Firstly, he had to avoid execution in the morning.
“Very well,” Yelena said. “We will travel to Glancia and await word there. Ewen, can Dane hide here until it’s time for him to leave?”
“He can hide in the tunnels under the house,” Ewen said. “They’re dark, and the air is stale, but he’ll be safe. Not even the captain of my guards knows about them.”
It was agreed, and we left them with a suggestion they be alert. We also agreed that Yelena and Martha should hide in the tunnels too. Their cottage would be the first to be searched after Dane’s escape was discovered. When they didn’t find Dane, the ministers might take their frustrations out on his mother, the former princess.
The shrill whistle signaled that all was safe for me to approach the inn’s rear courtyard. I clutched my pack tightly to my chest and crept along the alley. Moonlight lit the way, but I still got a fright when Max suddenly appeared in a doorway.
“Down there,” he whispered. “Hurry. They could come out at any moment.”
Drew waited at the top of a steep staircase that led to an underground storeroom in the inn’s yard. According to Vance, this small inn supplied ale to the courthouse’s guards. A barrel was delivered every evening by two inn staff who were due to collect it soon.
I descended the stairs in the dark with Drew as my guide. A small flicker of torchlight at the bottom didn’t reach the steps, but we navigated them safely. I could just make out several barrels stored in the corner. The smell of ale must be wafting from those.
Vance waved me over with the torch and indicated an unsealed barrel with an X marked in white chalk. I silently tipped the emetic tonic in and he helped Drew reseal it. The taps on the wooden lid seemed far too loud.
Thankfully no one came and we ascended the stairs and ran out of the empty yard undetected.
A short while later, a man pushing a barrow took no notice of us as he passed. He chatted to another man as they headed towards the courthouse where Dane was imprisoned in one of the six holding cells. We followed at a discreet distance and watched as they looked up at the gallows. The structure loomed with grim authority over the courtyard, blocking out the stars.
I swallowed and concentrated on the inn’s staff as they hailed the guards on the door. Instead of letting them in, one of the guards stopped them.
“What’s happening?” Max hissed.
We strained to hear, but I caught nothing of their conversation. The inn staff appeared to be arguing with the guards and one of the guards shooed them away while another knocked on the door.
It opened, revealing many guards inside. Far more than the eight that were supposed to be on duty. One emerged and spoke to the inn staff who finally turned to go.
My heart lurched into my throat as they passed us, shaking their heads and muttering their disappointment that their ale had been refused tonight when it never had been in all the years they’d been supplying it to the courthouse.
“I don’t understand,” Drew said when they were out of sight.
“You said the ale would be accepted without question,” Max growled at Vance. “You said they took the ale every night at this time.”
Vance studied the guards at the courthouse entrance, his brow furrowed. “Something’s amiss.”
A breeze whipped up, chilling me to the bone. I folded my arms against the cold. “There are more than eight guards,” I pointed out.
“They’re taking extra precautions with their special prisoner,” Drew said.
“Or they’ve been alerted to an attempted escape,” Vance said as he strode off.
I thought about the Rotherhydes and their own guards. Ewen had spoken to his captain about freeing Dane. Had he assumed an attempt would go ahead and betrayed his employer because he didn’t believe in the royalist cause?
“Are you giving up already?” Max snapped at Vance.
“I’m going back to the inn to get that barrel and deliver it myself,” Vance said. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
Max snorted as he fell into step alongside Vance.
I remained at the courthouse with Drew and we were soon joined by Gillon who’d been setting Quentin and Theodore up with horses around the corner. He swore after we told him what happened.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he said.
“Go home if you want,” I told him. “We can do this without your help.”
“I only abandon an operation when there’s no chance of it succeeding. If Vance thinks we can still get him out, then I’ll stay.” Gillon clasped my arm and gave me a grim smile. “Have faith, Josie.”
Faith was a finite commodity, and my stores were severely depleted.
It felt like an interminable amount of time before Vance and Max returned, pushing the small barrow with the barrel of ale on it. The white chalk X was clearly visible in the moonlight, as were their determined faces.
“How did you get it?” I asked.
“Stole it,” Max said.
“Now what?”
Gillon flashed me a grin. “Now we watch Vance in action.”
Vance removed the rings from his fingers and handed them to Drew. He then picked up an apron from the barrow that I hadn’t noticed and tied it around his waist. He pulled down his hat brim, hunched his shoulders, and thrust out his jaw. It changed the character of his entire face.
He pushed the barrow up to the guards on the courthouse door. We couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his manner looked friendly.
“What’s his plan?” I asked.
“He’s giving it to them for free,” Max said, sounding skeptical.
“They won’t believe that.”
“He’s pretending to be the innkeeper. None have probably met him since all deliveries are done by staff, so he reckons they’ll believe his story about trying a new brew and wanting their opinion.”
Like before, one of the guards opened the door and spoke to someone inside. The same man as earlier emerged and spoke to Vance. He must be their captain. He didn’t immediately dismiss Vance, but seemed interested in what he had to say. Other guards joined him at the door and finally they stepped aside, allowing Vance in.
He emerged with an empty barrow moments later and rejoined us. He grinned as he accepted his rings from Drew. “They fell for it. They’re very enthusiastic about a new brew. Enthusiastic enough to disregard orders forbidding them to drink tonight.”
Gillon clapped him on the shoulder. “Your idea is even better than the original plan. This way they’ll try it immediately.”
Even as he said it, a guard em
erged and handed a cup to each of the guards on the door. They sipped and stared into the cups then discussed it. One drank the lot but the other hesitated.
“Drink it,” I muttered. “Drink it, damn you.”
The first guard banged on the door at his back and it reopened. The guard took his cup and waited for the other. With a shrug, the second guard drank and handed his cup back too.
We waited. It seemed like an age before the emetic began to have an effect. The smaller of the guards touched his stomach and spoke to his companion; he banged on the door at his back. It opened and he swapped with another guard. Soon, he too was clutching his stomach and banging on the door. When it opened, the torchlight inside revealed a skeleton staff.
“It has taken effect on almost all,” Max said.
“They’ll be in the latrines, throwing up their last meal,” Vance said with delight.
One of the guards at the door doubled over suddenly. The new one who’d come out as a replacement addressed him only to find himself in the firing line as his colleague threw up all over his boots.
The sick one disappeared inside, leaving only one guard on duty. He did not look ill.
“He didn’t drink it,” I said.
“Wait a bit longer,” Vance said.
“He’s smaller than the other two. If he’d drunk the ale, he would be sick by now, but he looks fine.”
Vance watched a moment longer then swore.
“What do we do?” Gillon asked.
“We resort to the backup plan. Josie, you should go to the Rotherhydes’ house with the others. You’ll be safer there.”
“I’m not going anywhere until Dane is free,” I said.
Vance grunted. “Are all Glancian women as stubborn as her?”
I could swear Max’s lips curved into a small smile before they flattened again. “Just the brave ones.”
“At least wait here while we talk to the guard,” Vance said. “Someone needs to be lookout for this part.”
Vance set off before I had a chance to respond. Max, Drew and Gillon followed in his wake while I waited in the shadows. I wrapped my hand around the surgical knife I kept in my skirt pocket and kept a close eye on proceedings as well as looking out for anyone approaching from the street.