Rescuing the Captive: The Ingenairii Series

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “You are a good friend,” the maid said as she came to sit down near Alec. Her limp was noticeable, and Alec worried at how comfortable she would be if the escapees had to try to hurry. She leaned over Alec’s head and motioned for the princess to bring the candle over. Using the light, she examined the top of his head. “That is a painful looking gash. You’ll have a scar up there when it heals, although with that thick head of hair of yours no one will know.”

  She looked at Nichols, examining the place where he had been speared. “What did you do here?” she asked in a frank tone that indicated she expected complete honesty.

  “I have a unique power. I can heal people miraculously,” Alec told her. “If I wasn’t so worn out I’d heal that cut on my head and my fingertips,” he gingerly waggled the damaged digits. “My name is Alec,” he told her. “I’m sorry we haven’t been introduced.”

  “Under the circumstances, I think the informality is allowable,” the girl answered with the ghost of a grin. “My name is Caitlen, a lady-in-waiting, and this is the princess Esmere. We thank you for setting us free.”

  Alec raised his hand and motioned around the confined space. “Freedom is a loosely defined word!”

  “What are your plans now?” the maid asked.

  “When this all started, we hoped to spring the princess free and take her to Black Crag,” Alec answered.

  “That is a very good idea! Black Crag would make an excellent base of support to use to win back the throne! The cities and nobles will rally around anyone who has Black Crag ready to fight for them. Is that where you’re from?” the girl asked. “I’ve never been there. I didn’t realize people there had such strong accents!

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you had a bad accent,” she added. The princess was standing at a little distance, probably maintaining her status above and separate from the others, Alec suspected, as she would be used to doing, being a princess, and a pretty one at that.

  “I’m not from Black Crag,” Alec said without feeling any insult. She seemed to have understood everything he had said so far, making him believe that despite being so noticeable, his accent was growing less pronounced. “My sister wants to become a guard, so we intended to go there for her. She and some others should be on their way there now, and if we are lucky, we’ll catch up with them on the road there.” He paused to look at the maid in the soft candle light, and their eyes locked on one another as they each closely examined their new travel partners.

  “I’m surprised you have a sister interested in fighting for Black Crag,” the girl responded. This girl was someone he should trust, Alec could tell as they stared at one another. Her wideset eyes betrayed a lonely soul who would be a loyal friend and an intelligent companion.

  “The journey won’t be an easy one. I’m told the trip to Black Crag is uncomfortable and perilous in the winter, and the guards confiscated all my money when they caught me,” he told her, and motioned to the princess. “I know that royalty may not find the life of a common traveler to her liking,” he added in a confidential voice.

  “This princess will surprise you, I am sure,” the girl said with a gentle smile, and placed a friendly hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Are you rested? Should we start going again?”

  Alec rose to a crouching position. “Yes, we do need to get moving.” The two girls helped hoist Nichols across Alec’s shoulders, and the three of them began walking in single file down the underground corridor, away from their former captors and towards an uncertain freedom.

  Three long hours later, they had reached the end of the tunnel. The hot water pipes had shrunk in size in stages, and now suddenly dove into a brick wall to continue to carry their heat to the buildings at the extreme ends of their lines. The profusely sweating group halted. “There was a staircase in the left wall about five minutes ago,” Princess Esmere reminded them.

  “I’d say we ought to go back to the staircase,” Caitlen brightly responded, and they soon were back in front of a low arched stairwell. Esmere held a new candle as she led the way, with Alec bringing up the rear, until they reached a solidly closed wooden door.

  “Now what do we do?” Caitlen asked with a note of desperation in her voice.

  “If we rest for a while, I should have my energy back and be able to open it,” Alec counseled, which led to them all resting in the cramped confines of the small landing at the doorway. Having neither seen nor heard any sign of pursuit, Alec didn’t suggest posting a watch, and they all settled down within the circle of the candle light.

  Alec awoke to the flickering light of a candle that had burned nearly the entire length of its stick. The others were all soundly asleep. Experimentally he placed his left hand over his right, and easily healed the crushed fingertips, then healed the gash on the top of his head, and followed by sinking more energy into Nichols to provide a complete healing. The man sighed in his sleep, but did not awaken.

  Moving cautiously, Alec placed his hand lightly on the thigh of Caitlen, preparing to examine the girl’s limp. If he could easily heal the leg, their group would be able to move at a better speed.

  Caitlen’s hand came down with a resounding slap on his, creating an echo that sounded like a cracked whip. The other two members woke with a start.

  “Take your hand off me!” Caitlen snarled, sitting straight up. “You impudent foreigner.”

  “I just wanted to heal your limp!” Alec protested as his right hand tried to rub the sting out of his left.

  “Is that what you call it?” she asked. “Just keep your hands to yourself. Even the Conglomerate guards had the courtesy to respect us,” she paused as if she were reconsidering something she was about to say.

  “Now, are you going to open this door? Have you had enough rest?” she asked with asperity.

  Alec was growing increasingly defensive with each accusatory word out of Caitlen’s mouth. “Yes, I have rested enough,” he replied tersely, then turned his back to the suddenly haughty girl.

  “How do you feel?” he asked Nichols, who was awake for the first time since they had left the palace.

  “I feel a little woozy,” the blue-skinned man replied. “Where are we?”

  “Your friend brought you along to rescue the princess and me,” Caitlen abruptly said, pointing to the silent Esmere; she gave a significant look at Nichols, who remained silent. “We left our waiting room through a ventilation shaft, and for the past few hours we’ve been escaping through tunnels under the city; this foreigner has carried you the entire way. Now we’re ready to return to the surface.”

  “That’s right!” Nichols exclaimed. “We were in the Garden Palace, and fighting guards. I thought I was dead. There was a spear – it stabbed me,” he reached and looked down at his hip.

  “Your friend healed you – somehow, miraculously,” Esmere told him. “How well do you know him?”

  “How well do you trust him?” Caitlen asked.

  “We just met today in the prison. He fought the guards, beat them, and set a number of prisoners free. He wanted to come save the princess,” Nichols began to explain.

  “But only Nichols would come with me to set you free,” Alec jumped in, and finished the story. “So the two of us came to save you, and as you saw, Nichols took a pretty bad wound fighting on your behalf.”

  Nichols poked at his midriff, then fingered the stiffened, blood-soaked cloth of his shirt. “There’s no way you could have healed me, yet you did. Thanks be to the spirits,” he said.

  Alec pulled out one of his remaining knives. “Thanks be to God,” he replied. He placed his knife against the top hinge on the door, and worked it back and forth until there was a splintering sound. He knelt and did the same to the bottom hinge. “Nichols, hold onto the lever,” he directed his companion, then began work on the final hinge in the middle, prying it away from the wall. “Watch out,” he warned, and he carefully pulled the door inwards, showing only more darkness on the other side of the breached barrier.

  �
�Are we free?” Esmere asked.

  “Well, we’re a step closer to freedom,” Caitlen commented. They all stepped through the doorway, then waited as Alec placed it back in its frame. They stood silently and listened to the remote sound of laughter and the clomping sound of heavy boots crossing a wooden floor. A woman shrieked suddenly, followed by an outburst of more laughter.

  “What’s happening?” Caitlen asked. Alec and Nichols each looked at one another.

  “I’d say we’re in the basement of a tavern,” Nichols ventured. He looked around at the stout square columns that could be seen casting shadows in the dim candlelight among the scattered barrels and crates.

  “Why did that woman scream?” Esmere asked.

  “She probably got pinched,” Nichols said with a knowing smile. “And she is probably a serving maid who will get a bigger tip for having given such a satisfactory yell. She probably does it ten times a night, and is a very good actress for her regular customers.”

  “Have you been here before?” Caitlen questioned.

  “No, probably not. But I’ve been to a dozen places like it, and they all are pretty much the same.” There was a momentary pause, then he spoke to Caitlen again. “May I have a quick word with you, in private?”

  The two of them stepped a few feet away from Alec and Esmere, and had a brief, low conversation. They stepped apart, and returned to the others. Nothing was said to explain their tete-a-tete.

  Taking the candle, Alec led the way through the dusty basement to a rickety set of stairs. The dust showed no sign of having been walked through, and the wood made numerous, ominous creaking sounds as they began to ascend.

  “Will we be able to get something to eat?” Caitlen asked.

  Alec realized two things: after his time in the prison, he too was underfed and famished, and that he had no money at all.

  “Neither Nichols nor I have any money; do you?” Alec asked.

  Caitlen looked puzzled for just a moment, then sheepishly shook her head.

  “We can work for some food perhaps,” Alec suggested, seeing the crestfallen look on all their faces. “Can you sing, or could you wait on tables, like the girl who screamed?”

  Princess Esmere had a look of horror on her face, while Caitlen was indignant, and Nichols was neutral. Alec laughed heartily. “You should see the look on your face!” he said. “I was joking. I’ll offer some healing to the cooks, and they’ll slip something to us. As a matter of fact, we’ll do that first. We’ll probably be safest staying in the kitchen out of sight, until we figure out how to escape.”

  As he mentioned the word escape, the prospect of the near future began to dawn on him. They had no money, and no warm clothing for the long journey to Black Crag, a journey whose length he didn’t even truly know. And they were not even out of Vincennes yet. He would have to nurse along a princess and her hobbled, hostile maid through a city that was undoubtedly being searched extensively.

  He cautiously tested the door at the top of the second staircase, and opened the squeaky portal to another level of basement storage. The noise of the tavern was appreciably louder and dim light was visible through a single small window and underneath the door at the top of the next set of stairs.

  “Let me go see if I can get some food and bring it down here,” Alec told the others.

  “Will you come right back?” Caitlen asked.

  “I promise I’ll come back to you,” Alec replied.

  “Is that a promise, or a threat?” the lady-in-waiting asked solemnly, causing Alec to do a double-take. The good-humored barb, even the tone it was delivered in was exactly as though his own Bethany, the girl he loved back in the Dominion, was there with him. He remembered when he had last seen her, in Bondell, as she had ridden back to Goldenfields, and she had told him she loved him. He had not been able to tell her how much he loved her. Though the feeling had been in his heart, the words had not come out.

  “Alec? I was kidding,” Caitlen said gently, giving his shoulder a poke, rousing him from the heart-wrenching memory. It was the first time in a while she had said anything kind to him.

  “I know,” Alec said more gruffly than he intended. “Stay here,” he told them all before he ascended the next set of stairs, his fingers wiping moisture from his cheeks.

  He paused at the top of the stairs, listening to the sounds of a busy kitchen. Pots and pans were being stirred and moved, a load of wood was thrown into a fireplace, and dishes clattered loudly as the waitress took them for delivery. With a deep breath, Alec opened the door and stepped out of the basement and into the tavern kitchen.

  Chapter 8 – The Gable Above the Kitchen

  “Well now, where in the world have you come from?” a cook asked Alec as he broke into the bustling kitchen. “Oh,” she added, realizing that he wore the uniform of a Conglomerate guard, “you’re one of them.” Her tone made clear that her feeling towards the guards were not fond ones. “How in the devil did you get in our basement?”

  “We’re trying to desert from the guards, so we were hiding down here,” Alec answered, stumbling by luck onto an answer that swayed the cook from adversary to friend.

  “Deserters are you? Who else do you have with you?” the woman asked. She had bright red hair, unintentionally powdered with flour. “Are there many of you?”

  “Just the four of us,” Alec replied. “My friend and I, plus two girls we met.”

  “So you’ve got sweethearts? And you hide them in the basement? Shame on you! Call them up,” she ordered as she swept past Alec and pulled the basement door open, while her assistant cooks returned to their duties at the various stations around the kitchen.

  “Come up, come up children,” the woman called loudly down the stairs. “And bring a bag of potatoes with you,” she added with a wink to Alec.

  Seconds later the other three escapees came up the stairs with sheepish expressions, Nichols lugging a large canvas sack over his shoulder. “Put those over there,” the cook pointed Nichols towards a corner sink.

  “So who is sweet on who?” she asked. “You must be sweet on the Jagine,” she motioned between Esmere and Nichols. I hear the Jags are very affectionate,” she gave a coarse laugh that made Alec blush without understanding anything but the implications of the tone of the laugh. “And so it’s the two of you together?’ She looked at Alec and Caitlen, who were coincidentally standing close together.

  “You can have a bite to eat and spend the night here; I have a couple of small rooms in the loft above us,” she added, not seeing the look of incredulity Caitlen shot at Alec. “You boys go upstairs and get out of those uniforms and I’ll find some other clothes for you.” She had completely taken control of the situation, and Alec had a sense that she was usually in command of her surroundings.

  “The stairs are just over there, behind that door,” she pointed. “Here, you girls carry these platters out to the big table that Susan needs to serve,” she managed the flow of traffic as more food was ready to be delivered while Alec and Nichols obediently walked across the kitchen to the narrow dark staircase. A cold breeze fell down upon Alec as he opened the door, and the two of them carefully climbed up the stairs to a shallow landing that hosted two small doors that seemed sized for dwarves.

  “What happened down there?” Nichols asked Alec as they stood uncertainly.

  “I came up the stairs, and told her that we were deserters, and from there she established the whole rest of story for us in her mind – you heard her!” Alec said defensively. There was a squeal from the front room, then a loud giggle, then a different shriek.

  “We may be able to hear some firsthand stories about those pinches in the tavern,” Nichols observed.

  “The princess is different from what I expected,” Alec commented as they waited. “She doesn’t seem like someone who was in a convent.”

  Nichols seemed to be carefully picking his words. “She is different from what I remember, but I’m glad she’s willing to leave with us. If she is free, she�
��ll be a symbol for the people to rally around.”

  There was a burst of light, and the two girls started climbing the stairs. “This place is frigid!” Esmere exclaimed as they mounted the steps. Caitlen’s uneven gait followed behind as she limped up the stairs.

  “Here are your clothes,” the princess announced as she reached the top of the stairs. The tiny landing was too crowded for another person to join them as Caitlen stood a tread below. Another burst of light came from below. “Is everything going to be alright up there?” the cook asked. “There are blankets on the beds.” She stood with her head in the stairwell watching, as Esmere handed a set of clothes to Alec and disappeared through one of the small doors, followed by Nichols. Caitlen stepped up and handed a bag to the retiring Nichols. She turned and saw that the cook was still watching with a blissful smile.

  “Let’s go in our room,” she paused, “dear,” she added in a strangled tone, as she opened the door and advanced into the small garret room.

  Alec looked down the stairs at the cook, who was waving her fingers at him. “I know you’ll keep her warm tonight!” she said waggishly.

  Alec gave a wan smile, stepped into the room and closed the door, letting out a heavy sigh as he did.

  “Listen mister!” Caitlen was immediately in his face, literally, her fingers gripping his chin, “I am not going to let you get away with any shenanigans!”

  Alec felt panicked by the situation and the girl’s forceful attitude. “What are shenanigans?” he asked, not recognizing the word.

  “Whatever they are, you’re not to try any,” Caitlen emphasized, then seemed to deflate, and flopped down to sit on the bed.

  There was only one bed in the room, and not a large one, Alec noted. Not that the small room could have held another bed; there were only inches of clearance on one side, and a small table with a pitcher and bowl on the other, while the roof slanted severely.