The knight and the sorceress set out for the shop while their companions took up hiding positions among the barrels and crates that nearly filled their temporary haven. Roughly twenty minutes later, their companions had returned with the items the lieutenant had requested. In a flash, Kilren had thrown the cloak over Erana, covering her head with its hood. He slipped on the greatcoat and put the hat on his head. He then put one of the large burlap sacks inside of the other.
“Alright, Darian,” he said, turning his eyes to his friend. “Fill me with the power of the gods.”
The knight took the lieutenant by the shoulder, bowed his head, and asked the Eilian to give his companion the strength he needed for the task at hand. Whatever that might be.
“Wow,” Kilren said, “this is kind of incredible.”
“It is,” the Telian agreed.
“Alright, Ian,” the lieutenant said with a wide smile, “climb in the sack.”
“What?” was the bard's simple reply.
“The guards at the gate took note of the fact that one of our companions was an elf,” Kilren explained. “They arrested her and she managed to escape. Now, it's not going to take them long to figure out that she had help. Once they come to that conclusion, they'll probably get a little curious about that well-dressed dwarf who was seen riding with her.”
“Especially if Captain Raelen points out the fact that I asked for a tour of the jail,” the dwarf added before stepping into the sack and balling himself up as best he could. “Let's go.”
Kilren closed the bag over the bard's head and lifted him over his shoulder.
“Darian,” the lieutenant said, looking at his friend, “You're going to lead our party to The Gilded Chalice.”
“The Gilded Chalice!” Gwendolyn said. “Isn't that where you were arrested?”
“It is.”
“Well then, won't they be watching it?”
“They will be,” Kilren nodded. “But it's the one place where we can get into a cellar without attracting attention.”
“Why would we want to do that?” she asked.
“You'll see,” the lieutenant smiled. “Erana, you take Darian's arm and do your best to look like a bashful lady being escorted by a handsome knight. Gwendolyn and Garik, you follow them as lady-in-waiting and squire. I'll be steps behind, looking very much like a faithful retainer. Ian will use his remarkable acting ability to appear as nothing more than an extraordinarily large sack of potatoes.”
This statement was met with some mumbled replied that was mainly inaudible.
“Don’t worry, Ian,” Kilren chuckled, readjusting the bag a bit, “I'm sure you've got it in you. Lead on, Sir Darian.”
The knight stepped into the road having very little idea where he was, or how to find The Gilded Chalice. Fortunately, Erana's natural sense of direction quickly put them on the right path without having to ask directions from their apparent manservant. A couple of minutes later, the hostelry came into view. Kilren quietly directed the Telian to lead them down a nearby side-street as it was his intention to approach the establishment from the rear.
“This bag is getting heavier by the minute,” Kilren said, laying the sack down as he spoke.
“And hotter,” Ian's muffled voice added.
“Don't worry,” the lieutenant said, “we don't have much farther to go.”
Kilren looked around the corner to find that the large doors that led directly into the cellar were wide open. Whatever it was his mother had ordered earlier in the day, it seemed to have arrived. One crate after another was quickly being unloaded from a nearby wagon. Andrea was overseeing the operation. Unfortunately, however, so was one of the city guards.
“I don't suppose you happen to have a scrap of paper, a pen, and some ink on you, Ian?”
“Always, lad,” the sack replied.
The dwarf's hand emerged from the bag holding a small bottle, a quill, and a sheet of paper. Kilren took the offered articles and wrote the following: That guard is rather handsome, don't you think? K.
“You think that guard is handsome?” Darian asked, reading over his friend's shoulder.
“Not particularly,” the lieutenant replied, folding up the note as he spoke. “Now listen: Darian, you and Gwendolyn have to walk over to Andrea – she's the one barking orders over there – and ask her how to get to the corner of Brally and Downstan. She'll point you back down this road. Make sure you get her to look you directly in the face...”
“How?” the knight interjected.
“Smile at her,” Kilren replied shaking his head, “she likes looking handsome young men in the face. Anyway, when you're sure she's looking at you – but that the guard isn't – wink your left eye twice and then slowly nod.”
“What?”
“Like this!” the lieutenant said with a touch of frustration before showing the knight exactly what he meant. “Then hand her the note. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Don't mess this up.”
Darian and Gwendolyn strolled down the road, her arm locked in his, and approached Andrea. They spoke and, just as Kilren had foreseen, the maiden pointed back down the street the way the couple had come. Seconds later, the knight extended his hand and she took something from him. The pair then made their way back to their allies.
Andrea glanced down at the note, stepped over to exchange a few words with one of the men working on the wagon, who merely nodded in reply, and then made her way over to the guard. Minutes later, she was laughing loudly at something he had said. His back was turned to the party and his attention seemed completely captivated by the beautiful maiden who had suddenly taken such an interest in him.
“Follow me,” Kilren said softly before lifting the sack again with a groan, “but, not too close.”
The lieutenant walked as quickly as he could under the weight of his burden, making straight for the cellar door. Several of the men who were unloading the cart nodded silently as he approached and, in less than a minute, he was at the bottom of the steps.
He had no sooner reached the floor than he dropped the sack from his shoulder, quickly restoring to his cramped companion both freedom and fresh air. Darian and Erana quickly descended the stairs after them. They were followed almost immediately by Gwendolyn and Garik. Abruptly, Kilren turned and led the band to one of the darkest corners of the cellar.
A large, rusted grate was set in the floor through which the sewers could be accessed if need be. A prodigious lock kept this passage closed, but with the aid of Ian's lock picks, Kilren soon had it opened. This done, the lieutenant stretched his shoulders before leaning back in an attitude of relaxed ease.
“What are we doing?” Darian asked quietly.
“Waiting,” Kilren replied.
“Waiting on what?”
“Kilren?” Andrea's voice whispered.
“That,” the lieutenant replied before raising his voice somewhat. “We're back here.”
“What's going on?” Andrea asked as she approached the party.
“We escaped.”
“That much I gathered,” she replied shaking her head, “but, why come here?”
“To get into the sewers,” he explained. “I figured it was the best way to get out of the city without being seen.”
“That's a good idea, actually,” she agreed.
“I also wanted you to let Mother and Father know that we're alright,” he continued. “Tell them I'll get a message to them as soon as I can.”
“I will,” she nodded.
“Thanks for the help,” the lieutenant said, climbing to his feet and kissing her on the cheek. “We really appreciate it.”
“Always, Kilren,” she replied with a wide smile. “Be careful.”
“Always,” he said, before dropping himself through the hole in the floor to the sewers below.
His other companions quickly joined him. The drain in which they found themselves was roughly four feet from ceiling to floor and just as wide. With
the exception of Ian, the companions found the passageway cramped and uncomfortable. The air was also stale and carried on it an extremely unpleasant odor. None of them thought of complaining, however, as this was their most probable road to freedom.
Without a word, the lieutenant pulled the ever-glowing necklace that he always wore around his neck from under his shirt and began leading the party through the winding passageway.
“Kilren,” Erana said with a note of thoughtful displeasure in her voice. “Why did you feel it was necessary to kiss Andrea?”
“I didn't really kiss her,” he explained, carefully considering a fork that lay just before them. “I kissed her on the cheek.”
“But, why was that necessary?”
“I wasn't sure when I'd see her again.”
“That was a reason to kiss her?”
“It was,” he nodded before looking back at his love. “She's almost... no, in fact, she is like a sister to me. I hadn't seen her in years and I'm not sure when I'll see her again. So, I kissed her on the cheek to show her that I care about her. I wasn't sharing my breath with her or anything. I just gave her a peck. It's a human custom.”
“Aye,” Ian agreed. “That it is. I wish I'd thought to do her the same honor. The lass saved us a good deal of trouble back there.”
“I suppose she did,” Erana admitted. “And, I suppose I need to learn more about human customs.”
“Yes,” Kilren chuckled, finally deciding on the left hand fork, “you do.”
“If she's like your sister, why hadn't you ever mentioned her before?” the elvish maiden asked while following closely behind her love.
“You may have noticed that I'm a man of the moment,” he replied. “I'm generally busy considering whatever is going on at the moment. For instance, now that we have a moment to think, I'd like to know what the interrogator asked you about before me and Gwendolyn brought his questions to a rather abrupt end.”
The elvish maiden quickly recounted the details of her brief conversation with the interrogator.
“I don't like the sound of that,” Ian said, shaking his head. “If what he was saying is true, it sounds like Mikral intends to invade Innalas.”
“Why would they do that?” Darian asked.
“King Palnar uses conquest as a tool,” the bard replied. “I suspect the only reason he hasn't attacked Innalas before is that he's never seen an opportunity.”
“Why would he feel that there's one now?”
“Duke Saress did a great deal of damage to Innalas,” the dwarf replied. “They certainly haven't fully recovered from his attacks yet.”
“But why wait almost a year?” the knight asked.
“I doubt he had any choice,” Ian answered. “He's only just been able to bring his war in the south to an end.”
“Which we still know nothing about,” Kilren pointed out. “All things considered, our mission doesn't seem to have gone very well.”
“It seems we may have discovered what King Palnar is planning to do next,” the dwarf replied. “That's more important than finding out how he negotiated a temporary end to his last war.”
“You're probably right about that,” the lieutenant agreed. “We need to let Andor know as quickly as possible.”
“Which means that we need our horses,” Darian observed. “How are we going to get them back?”
“Are you serious?” Kilren asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the stooped over knight. “Darian, if by some miracle, we could make our way back into town and get to the farrier's without getting caught; we'd be arrested the minute we tried to get Erana's horse. Use your head!”
“Then, what are we going to do? We can't walk back to the fortress.”
“No, we can't.”
“Well, then; we have to have horses.”
“Obviously.”
“Well then...”
“Darian,” Kilren interrupted, “can we finish talking about this after we get out of this sewer?”
“Certainly,” the knight smiled.
“As impressive as Mikralian architecture is,” Erana observed, the corner of her cloak held over her nose and mouth, “I don't think I care for this part of it.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Ian replied, gazing around with a thoughtful expression. “In truth, this stone work was done by skilled hands.”
“Maybe,” she replied, “but they should run more fresh water through here.”
After this observation, the conversation was brought to an end. For roughly two hours, the party plodded slowly through the passageway; hunched over in a position that was neither walking nor crawling – nor was it as comfortable as either. Finally, they emerged into a much larger corridor which served as the main drain out of the city. It was close to eight feet high and twelve feet wide and had a six-foot wide stream of water flowing continuously through it.
Each of the companions, with the exception of Ian, stretched themselves slowly while thanking the Eilian that their ordeal was, at least temporarily, at an end. After taking several deep breaths of the relatively fresh air, the band continued their journey by following the flow of the shallow stream. This led them to a massive metal grate, complete with door, just beyond which they could see a sheltered, wooded glen which the exiting stream seemed to flow through.
“What is that door doing here?” Darian asked, gazing ahead at the small portal.
“Occasionally, workmen come down to clean and repair the sewers,” Kilren explained. “The door allows them to get in without having to go through what we just did.”
“Well, it seems like a serious flaw in their defenses,” the knight replied. “An enemy army could come up from beneath them.”
“That might be true, if it weren't for the fact that there are watchmen on the walls. It would be kind of hard for them to miss an army trying to sneak in through the sewers. Plus, even if anyone did manage to get in, they're not exactly the easiest thing in Areon to navigate your way through.”
“Speaking of which,” Garik said, “how do you know how to do that?”
“I spent a lot of time running around down here as a kid,” Kilren explained.
The lock proved to be no obstacle for the skilled lieutenant and, within minutes, the band was standing in the open air. At the Telian's request, Kilren re-locked the door before the party moved stealthily toward the shade of the little wood.
“Alright,” the lieutenant said, stretching himself out on the short grass. “So far, so good. We're out of the city and we can be fairly certain no one knows where we are. That is, of course, unless someone spotted us from the city walls, but that seems somewhat unlikely. So, we need to focus on acquiring some horses and heading back to the fortress as quickly as we can.”
“Where can we buy horses?” Darian asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Well,” Kilren said slowly, his gaze wandering from the bard to the knight. “We can't really buy horses, Darian.”
“What do you mean?” the Telian asked.
“By now,” the lieutenant began, “the guards at the gate have been thoroughly questioned. No doubt, they've pieced together that the elf they're looking for was riding with a dwarf, along with four other people. That information is almost certainly circulating throughout the city at this very moment. If we, that is to say: you, me, Garik, and Gwendolyn, show up somewhere trying to buy six horses, that might just raise a few eyebrows. For instance, what would you say if the seller asked us why we needed six horses?”
The knight stared at his companion in thoughtful silence.
“I'm glad to see,” Kilren laughed, “that even you realize we couldn't say: the extra two horses are for our other two companions who we can't let you meet for some reason we can't explain. Since you can't lie, we can't use that method of concealing our true purpose. I suppose we could go without you, but three people buying six horses might seem even more suspicious.”
“Then, what are you suggesting?” the Telian asked.
“I'm suggest
ing that we requisition the horses we need shortly after the sun goes down.”
“Telian Knights can't steal either, Kilren,” Darian replied, gazing disapprovingly at his companion from under knitted brows.
“It's not stealing!” the lieutenant replied excitedly. “It's requisitioning!”
“It's the same thing.”
“No, it's not,” Kilren disagreed. “First, we can leave twice what the horses are worth when we take them. Second, we can send them back to the owner after we reach the fortress.”
“We'll still be taking them without the owner's permission,” Darian pointed out.
“Aye, lad,” Ian agreed, “that we will be. However, this is an emergency and, at the moment, we have to consider ourselves as being in enemy territory.”
“What do you mean?” the Telian asked.
“We have reason to believe that King Palnar may be planning to attack Innalas,” the bard explained. “Solarin and Innalas are allies. It's our duty to warn King Illfas of the possible attack and we've lost our mounts. Under Solarin law – not to mention the laws of Mikral, Innalas, and countless other kingdoms in Areon – we have the legal right to requisition equipment from our enemies.”
“It doesn't feel right,” Darian replied, shaking his head.
“Sir Darian,” the bard said, his eyes locked on those of the knight, “if some unfortunate was being attacked by a sword-wielding rogue and you were without your blade, would you hesitate to take a sword from a bystander who wasn't using it? Would you take the time to ask for permission to use it?”
“It's not the same thing.”
“It's exactly the same thing,” the dwarf disagreed. “The people of Innalas could very well be the unfortunates who find themselves attacked by a foe they're not prepared to face. In this case, knowledge is a more valuable weapon than a sword. If we don't get that knowledge to them, how many lives will be lost? How many were lost because no one knew Duke Saress planned to attack them last year?”
“I see your point,” the knight admitted with a sigh. “You're absolutely right. We should leave a note explaining why we did what we did, though.”
“Fair enough,” Kilren nodded. “Now, let's get a move on. I know of a farm on the edge of this wood where we should be able to requisition a few horses. I want to get into position before nightfall. We need to try to get some rest before the sun sets, though. I think it'd be better for us to ride all night.”
The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 7