“–we’re here instead. Is that a problem for you and your uncle, dear?”
Isabel nervously swallowed. “Well, that depends if you’ll allow me to pass through or not. I promise to hurry right back. I still have duties in the kitchen.”
The first guard glanced at the other, and then nodded understandingly at Isabel. “As touching as your story is, I can’t begin to explain the trouble I’d land in if I allowed any of you people to leave the compound without permission from my commander. No matter your promise to come back, it’s not going to happen.”
Isabel’s eyes began to water. “But…”
“However,” the other soldier jumped in, “we understand the difficulty your uncle must be going through, being sick and all, and promise to have one of the off-duty men take it personally to your relative. As soon as the Enâr patrolling our section of the wall passes by again, we’ll send word with him to have someone hurry back this way to make your delivery. Where does your uncle live?”
“Just across the main road outside this gate, then down the third lane to the right. He’s in the very last house with the thatch roof and a chicken coop on the side,” she said. “But do you really mean to do this task for me? I want him to get well.”
“Consider it done,” the soldier said, taking the soup and bread from Isabel and setting it down on a wall ledge. “Now you’d best be off before a less friendly guard finds you wandering about, okay?”
“All right,” she replied with a gracious nod. “And thank you so much for understanding.”
Both soldiers smiled as Isabel turned around and hurried back to the garrison. When she had disappeared into the distant shadows, the second guard rubbed his whiskers and kept an eye out in her direction to make sure she didn’t return. Satisfied, he grabbed the round of bread and ripped it apart, giving half to his friend.
“This post may not be as exciting as the main gate, but it does have its benefits!” he said with a laugh. He removed the plate covering the soup, then greedily dipped his bread into the broth and ate it. “Now how good is this?”
“Just don’t let the Enâr see next time he passes by,” the other replied with a grunt as he plowed his bread into the soup and voraciously consumed his bonus meal.
Hidden safely behind the well, Isabel watched as the two soldiers devoured the leftover meal meant for her non-existent uncle. She smiled, proud of her acting skills under duress, and then hurried back to the garrison.
Brendan and William were relieved to see Isabel return to the garrison a short while later as they helped wash down the long rows of tables and benches in the dining area. She sent a reassuring wink their way from across the room before disappearing into the kitchen.
“So far, so good,” Brendan whispered to his younger brother, encouraged that something was finally happening to counter the attackers from across the sea.
“Our turn is next,” William anxiously replied.
Half an hour later, after a quick word of thanks to Clovis in private, the two brothers slipped out the side door into the darkness. Clovis had provided each of them with a heavy coat borrowed from two of his workers and a small sack with some bread, apples, dried beef and a filled water skin. After double checking to see that no one was around, Brendan and William hurried across the compound to the well, crouching down behind it so they could observe the distant west gate. Though well hidden in shadows at this spot, they still felt as if the eyes of every Island soldier were upon them.
“I can only see one of the guards,” William whispered as he peered over the rim of the stone well. “He’s standing against the wall on the left.”
Brendan noted the man as a knot of uneasiness gripped his stomach. Was one of them still awake? Had their plan failed already? He dared to stand up for a closer look, inspecting the dimly lit area near the arch as best he could. A satisfied smile slowly spread across his face. “I see the other one, Will.”
“You do?”
“Yes. He’s sitting on the ground against the wall, his head dropped to his chest.” He glanced at his brother with a grin. “That rasaweed really works.”
“Clovis used half the vial just to be sure,” William said. “But how come the other guard is still standing up? Do you suppose he didn’t eat any of the soup?”
“That could be. I…” As Brendan strained his eyes for a closer look, he suddenly realized something and shook his head. “That guard is sleeping, too. His head is resting against the wall and his arms are limp at his side. He probably tried to prop himself up when he first grew tired. Besides, if he was awake, he certainly wouldn’t let his partner laze around on the ground.”
“Good point.” William looked at his brother, hoping his next words sounded confident, though fearing they might reveal the anxiety welling inside him. “Ready to go? We can’t sit here all night.”
Brendan patted him encouragingly on the shoulder before grabbing the sack of provisions. “Let’s go–but quietly.”
They cautiously left their hiding place behind the well, but before slipping out of the security of the surrounding trees, the brothers surveyed the compound one last time to make sure no guards were wandering about. All was clear. After waiting for the Enâri guard patrolling atop the west wall to pass out of sight, they scurried across the final open stretch of the compound in the dim moonlight, making for the archway. When they approached the two guards, each brother privately entertained fears that one or both of them would instantly awake and take them prisoner. But the two men remained still, one sitting and one standing, deeply breathing in the cool night air.
Brendan glanced at his brother, placing a finger to his lips and then pointing at the wooden gate beneath the archway. William nodded and indicated for his brother to lead the way. They passed under the archway and stopped at the two solid gates a few feet ahead. They were locked shut with a thick piece of oak timber wedged across two iron holders bolted to the door. Brendan handed the sack to his brother, and after taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted up the oak bar and set it against the inner archway. He was about to open one of the two gates when they heard the shuffle of steps and the grumblings of the Enâri soldier passing by on the wall above. Though he had no view of either Brendan or William at the moment, the Enâr might easily have seen his two colleagues fast asleep if he happened to glance over the inner edge. But as the wall was quite wide, Brendan thought the chances were good that the Enâr wouldn’t notice during his monotonous patrol. The two brothers stared at one another, holding their breaths for what seemed an eternity. Despite the autumn chill, they were flushed with a warm prickling fear. Finally, the Enâri guard passed by overhead and all was again silent.
William exhaled as his brother opened the gate just wide enough to pass through. Without a word, the two young princes slipped out to the other side, seeing the road ahead bathed in gloomy shadows. Before the Enâr had a chance to turn around and head back this way, Brendan and William left the safety of the archway and dashed across the road, taking refuge in another thicket of tall trees just beyond the way. The sweet smell of pine invigorated them, yet they knew they were far from being safe. Brendan pointed at a narrow lane to the south where about a half dozen houses lay sleepily in the night along the edge of a small field to the right. Moonlight filtered down through gauzy clouds forming high in the sky.
“We’ll make for that field,” Brendan said. “Stay in the shadow of those houses as we head west. There are a few shops after that, but once we pass the smithy, we’ll reach farmland. We’ll head for the safety of the woods just beyond.”
“And then what?” his brother asked.
“Let’s get there first, Will, then we’ll figure it out.”
With no sign of any patrols, they bolted out of the trees and raced to the nearby field, cutting across the tall dried grass and the remains of some vegetable gardens like a swift night wind. A handful of low buildings greeted them adjacent to the opposite end of the field, a bakery and a candle shop among them. Brendan led
his brother along the side of the bakery, carefully peering out around the front corner of the building into the adjacent lane. Since it lay dark and deserted, the two brothers assumed the best and scooted down the dirt road until they neared the blacksmith’s shop at the end, tasting freedom with every step. But just before they neared the end of that building which ran alongside the plot of farmland, William noted a growing flash of light coming from that very direction. Brendan saw it too, and the brothers dashed to the right, hiding in the shadows on the opposite side of the blacksmith’s shop.
They squatted on the ground next to a rain barrel, their backs to the wall and their heads bowed down to their kneecaps. Moments later, the voices of two Enâri soldiers drifted up the lane along with the light from a blazing torch. Brendan glanced to his right and saw the pair ambling up the road, their backs to him now as they talked to each other in gravelly voices on their watch. Though neither of the soldiers glanced in Brendan’s direction, he didn’t think they would have seen him or his brother from such a distance. When the Enâri were finally out of sight and earshot, the two brothers remained by the rain barrel for several more seconds in case anyone should return.
“I think we’re safe,” William whispered shortly after. “And my knees are starting to hurt.”
“Then by all means, let’s leave at once,” Brendan replied with a smirk.
He stood up, and deeming the coast clear, indicated for William to follow him around the back of the building to avoid the main road. Moments later, the two princes were dashing across a farm field, the pungent scent of soil invading their noses as the edges of a nearby forest at the foot of the mountains beckoned to them. Several minutes later, a roof of pine, maple, oak and elm branches covered their heads while their footfalls splashed through puddles of dried autumn leaves littering the ground. After half an hour traveling south, they found a stream and stopped along its banks to rest and have a bite to eat. They built a small fire as the Bear Moon drifted overhead in its westward trek.
“I can’t believe we did it,” William said, giddy with excitement while munching on an apple as he watched the hypnotic snapping of the flames. “But I only wish Mother and Grandfather knew we were safe.”
Brendan spoke reassuringly, sitting against a tree. “Martha will get word to them of our departure. Still, a proper goodbye would have been nice.” He smiled at his brother. “And I had no doubts that you could do this, Will, despite the fact that you’re my twerp of a little brother.”
“Very funny, Not-Quite-King Brendan.”
“Well, at least I can be a prince again,” he said, shoving a hand in his pocket and fishing out a silver ring engraved with images of the royal house of King Rowan. Brendan slipped it on a finger. “We don’t have to hide who we are for now. Didn’t lose yours, did you?” he joked.
William tossed his apple core into the woods and quickly searched through his pockets, pretending he couldn’t find the ring symbolizing his royal birth. “Maybe I dropped it down the well,” he said lightheartedly before producing the ring and holding it up to the crackling fire. He put it on, staring at the fine etchings upon the metal band and wondering when he would see home again.
Brendan, sensing a trace of melancholy in his brother, jumped up and ripped off his hat and coat before kneeling by the stream. “I think we’re safe now. Besides, I can’t stand this anymore!”
William looked up hopefully. “You mean we can…?”
“Yep!”
With excited relief, Brendan dunked his head in the cold water several times, massaging his fingers through his hair. William rushed over to the stream, joyously imitating his brother’s antics. After several minutes of brisk soaking, washing and splashing, the two siblings sat by the fire to dry off and keep warm. Their heads of hair, mussed up and tangled, were now each a slightly different shade of golden blond, yet both similar in color to their mother’s. William draped the hood of his coat over his head after his hair had sufficiently dried.
“I don’t know what kitchen ingredients Martha threw together to concoct that dye, but it was starting to itch terribly,” he said.
“But it worked,” Brendan replied. “The wizard Caldurian never had a reason to suspect who we were. I think even Mother and Grandfather were shocked the first moment they saw us walk into the study with their lunch, though they never let on.”
“I wonder when we’ll see them again,” William whispered, feeling as if he were half a world away from home. “Soon, I hope.”
“Then the sooner we get to Morrenwood, the better,” his brother said. “We’ll rest here until dawn and continue south. It’s about a five hour hike to the Fainin Pass in the Keppel Mountains. Beyond that are the Black Hills on the eastern border of Arrondale.”
“But we still have to travel all the way to the western part of the kingdom to reach Morrenwood,” William said with a click of his tongue. “That’ll take forever.”
“So stop talking then and get some sleep,” Brendan joked as he lay down by the fire. “You’re going to need the rest!”
CHAPTER 24
The Swamp
The steady clatter of horse hooves disturbed the darkness. A cart rattled across the wooden bridge two miles east of Kanesbury. Zachary Farnsworth gripped the reins, deep in thought as he passed over a stretch of the Pine River just beyond the Spirit Caves. It had been thirteen days since he met with the wizard Caldurian. Dooley sat next to Farnsworth, gazing at the swampland on their right bathed in the gentle light of the rising Bear Moon still a few days from full. Square copper oil lamps attached to either side of the cart glowed like a pair of demonic eyes, the light wildly flickering behind the slits in the metal facing. The horses trotted along the dirt road in the cool autumn night, enjoying the evening excursion and not particularly bothered by the weight of the three individuals and other items they were transporting.
Dooley glanced over his shoulder at the open cart, noting several sacks filled with dried food, fruit and vegetables lined up on one side. Along the other side was a row of split firewood, seasoned and ready for burning. What caught his attention most was the heap of heavy blankets tossed over a large object sprawled out in the middle of the cart. Though it remained still, he noticed that if he stared at it long enough, he could detect a barely perceptible rise and fall of the blankets at one end of the object from time to time. He turned back around and rubbed his chin as the night wind brushed through his tangles of dirty blond hair.
Farnsworth glanced at him as he lightly snapped the reins. “Having second thoughts, Dooley?”
He looked down at his dirty boots. “Third and fourth ones, too. Let’s just get this over with.”
Farnsworth nodded, his dark eyes surveying the terrain ahead–acres of farmland on the left, including Barringer’s Landing, and a few miles of swampland to the right, teeming with tall grasses, weed stalks and scraggly trees hiding an occasional island of dry land within the dense vegetation. “Remember, it’s all part of the deal with Caldurian. We have to pay our dues if we’re going to make our marks on Kanesbury.”
“Not the most convenient way to do it,” he muttered.
Farnsworth raised his coat collar with one hand as the evening chill deepened, brushing aside the long brown hair hanging over his shoulders. “There are other ways to handle these inconveniences. Nobody is stopping you.”
Dooley glared at Farnsworth. “You either, Zachary! You’re just as capable of–” He turned and spit onto the passing road. “Like I said, let’s get this over with.”
Farnsworth nodded, though he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “We’re both corrupt, Dooley, but apparently only up to a certain point, I guess. Then again, this drama is just beginning to play out. Who knows what else we might do if forced to act.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Arthur Weeks was killed by somebody else’s hand and that worked to our benefit.” Dooley looked up, searching for an explanation. “Now no one can connect his lies about Nicholas Ra
ven to us. But would either of us have had the nerve to wield that knife against Arthur if necessary? If he ever decided to expose us to the authorities?”
“I don’t know.” Dooley grunted with disgust. “Probably not. Seems neither of us has the stomach to get our hands dirty in that way. By the look of things, we’d most likely have kidnapped Arthur and dragged him to the swamps like this one.” He indicated the body in back with his thumb. “Not the most efficient use of our time, so we’d better watch out who else we make as enemies or we’ll be hauling away half the population of Kanesbury. Sooner or later it’s going to catch up with us unless we find a better plan.”
“I think my plan has gotten us far up to this point,” he said with a hint of irritation. “Do as you’re told and we’ll be all right. I helped convince Ned Adams to get you Nicholas’ old job, didn’t I?” Dooley nodded. “And he said you did just fine taking that recent shipment to Bridgewater County. So trust me to think things through for the both of us. I know what I’m doing.”
“I suppose so.”
“You’ll thank me one of these days after you obtain a more lucrative job and a nicer house to live in,” Farnsworth said encouragingly. “And can you honestly tell me that you wouldn’t mind frequenting the finer dining establishments in the village, or associating with the more influential citizens of Kanesbury?”
“I wouldn’t stick my nose up at the opportunity,” he said, folding his arms and leaning back in the wagon seat. “But you already know that.”
“Then let me do my job and those things will come your way in time,” he promised. “And who knows, your rise in status just might catch the eye of some of the fine ladies in Kanesbury, say, for instance, Miss Katherine Durant.”
“Who said anything about–?”
Farnsworth grinned. “You didn’t have to say anything, Dooley. It’s obvious you have feelings for her. I stop by the Iron Kettle, too. I hear about things you’ve said in your inebriated states.”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 Page 36