by Rob Preece
By the time she got back to her base, Arnold was up.
She expected him to be unhappy and wasn't disappointed.
"Allowing others to strike from behind is not chivalrous, Ellie."
"We're trying to win, Arnold, not play a game."
"The laws of chivalry aren't a game. They're what keeps warfare civilized."
Ellie closed her eyes and tried to force back the mental images of her parents’ bodies, of the thousands of bodies in farmhouses outside of Dinan. “Sometimes, I think you get it, but then you go and say something like that. War isn't civilized. It's brutal and ugly."
He nodded. “I'm not blind, Ellie. My eyes have been opened these past months. Any naive and romantic notions I once had about war are gone. But that's because the rules have been broken. Breaking them again and saying Sergius or Sullivan or Harrison did it first doesn't help bring things back. It only invites greater cruelty."
She nodded. She agreed with him. Even good ends do not justify every means. In this case, though, she felt justified. She'd let Micael and Alys strike from behind because she'd wanted to save his life.
"I'm sorry I don't live up to your expectations, Arnold. But I wasn't raised a princess. I was raised a fighter. And that's what I do. Now, will you tell us about the keep? I need guard schedules, a complete map, armory sites, insight into the commander's personality."
He shrugged. “You know I can't help you. It would be unethical."
Sometimes the man was so honorable she wanted to strangle him.
"Sooner or later, Sergius is going to turn against you,” she warned. “When he does, you'll be sorry you didn't play your part in bringing him under control."
His dark eyes seemed to peer into her soul. “I believe you, princess. But that doesn't mean I can help you."
She gave up. “All right, then. Why don't you see if you can turn some of these tubers into something to eat then? I'm going to see what I can discover with magic."
"And I'll see what I can find out from the whores and chambermaids,” Alys cackled. “Because if anyone knows the guards’ schedules, it will be the women whose livelihoods depend on it."
Ellie spent two hours with her stones, tracing out the patterns of the three dimensional structure that was the city's keep while Alys vanished into the female underworld of Harrison. Incredibly, Arnold decided that cooking wouldn't violate his honor and went to work.
When Ellie finally stumbled away from the stones, her eyes blurry and her head throbbing from energy blowback, she discovered why. Arnold had turned fresh tubers into a watery mass of starch devoid of any flavor beyond that of charred vegetable.
"I've cooked before,” he admitted, “but only around a fire. And only meat. Or fish."
If sticking meat on a stick and holding it into a fire could be called cooking. Still, at least Arnold ate what they ate and didn't complain about it.
She waited until she'd eaten as much as she could stand, and then turned back to him. “Is anyone likely to come looking for you?"
He considered. “Probably not. Sergius sent the nobles who supported him from the first throughout the kingdom. He said he wanted to have loyal people everywhere. But..."
But neither Arnold nor Ellie really believed that. It was more likely that he'd decided, or been encouraged by his uncles, to disperse the young nobles to where they would be unlikely to conspire, unlikely to ask for favors in return for their contributions, and where they would be distant from their relatives and, therefore, hostages.
"What about your sisters?"
"I made sure they went back home to my father. It's a strange time in Moray."
She caught herself yawning and grinned at him. “Right. I'm going to sleep now. I'm relying on your pledge not to escape."
"My word is good."
She gathered a bit of relatively clean straw, draped her blanket over it, and lay down.
According to the schedule that she, Mark, Lawgrave, and Lart had laid out, they had forty-eight hours before the attack.
* * * *
The next morning, Ellie woke up early to make her rounds, cheering up the soldiers who had been smuggled in that first night and locating more places to hide. Inns were too obvious. Guards patrolled them, looking for anyone out of place. But hiding a thousand soldiers in a city with a total population of less than twenty thousand wasn't easy. Especially when the city was built on a medieval scale, with narrow roads, overhanging buildings, and multiple families crammed into a space that an American would have thought small for a playhouse.
She went ‘guy’ again. She felt naked without her sword so she'd hacked off her hair which had finally grown long enough to be useful and let her feel like a woman again, tied down her breasts, and put on the attire of a squire. Which meant she could wear her sword, assuming it had successfully made it through the city's security.
She found Mark, along with about twenty of his men, in an ancient crypt outside a deteriorating church.
They had taken over the massive structure, home to a Harrison family that had once been hugely wealthy and had bought a quarter of the churchyard to build a massive funeral structure celebrating their dead relatives. None of the bodies inside looked new, which was good. They just hoped that nobody in the family who owned it died in the next two days.
"Thought you might want this.” Mark handed over her katana.
It didn't send off magical shock waves the way it had when Lawgrave had first presented it to her, but it still felt wonderful.
"How many made it in last night?” she asked. They'd been hoping for five hundred.
"Fewer than a hundred,” Mark admitted. “The usual late-night fog never appeared. And the guards on the wall aren't suspicious, exactly, but they're on higher alert than we had hoped."
Their mages might have felt the probing that Ellie and their other mages had done and sent a warning. It was unfortunate, but it couldn't be helped.
"We can gather some men near the gate,” she suggested.
"It's too late to change the plan now. Besides, that would only increase the risk of discovery. Oh, by the way, I like your new do. Cut it yourself?” He brushed a hand against the close-shorn stubble that was all that was left of her hair.
"Arnold did it for me."
"Baronet Arnold? He's here?"
"We captured him. He's given us his parole."
Mark shook his head. It took Ellie a moment to place the emotion in her friend's eyes. When she finally did, she could have collapsed in surprise. Jealousy? Mark was jealous because Arnold had cut her hair? It wasn't like Mark had shown any signs of interest in her. He'd been the one all over Arnold's sisters, after all.
"Too bad he won't fight on our side,” Mark said. “Strategically, he's an idiot. But he's almost as good a swordsman as you or Dafed. We could use him."
"I haven't given up on that,” she said. “But he's got his honor thing going. I don't think he'll be able to abandon his fealty to Sergius until Sergius betrays him or his family. He didn't like what Sergius had done to me, but he didn't see it as any reason to abandon his promise."
"Be careful of him,” Mark warned. “He may be caught up in honor, but he's from a noble family that goes way back. He's got as much royal blood in him as Sergius, Harrison, or Sullivan. And you know what snakes those guys are."
She nodded. But Arnold wasn't like those guys. He truly believed in the notions of chivalry and honor that Sergius might give lip service to but used only when convenient. Besides, she'd liked that kiss Arnold had given her.
"Considering that we're invading a strongly held enemy city, I'm being as careful as I can be.” She stepped out of the crypt, then turned. “I'll see you day after tomorrow. Look for the liberty flag on the citadel at dawn."
She was worrying about how few rebels they'd managed to get into the city, distracted by Mark's jealousy over Arnold, and definitely not paying attention when she was attacked.
* * * *
"What's the meaning of this? Guard
s."
A hard strike from a stick of some kind knocked Ellie to her knees.
The pain of the strike brought her back to the present in a hurry. She dove, tumbling away from the strike and drawing her katana as she rolled to a kneeling position.
The ancient priest was still screaming his lungs out as he yanked back on his crosier for another swing. He might be old, but that staff-like priest device weighed a ton and had all sorts of sharp protuberances. Getting hit by it hurt.
The sound of running feet told her that the priest was the least of her problems. She'd just run out of luck. A careless moment, the bad luck of stumbling over a priest who looked like he was barely strong enough to shuffle out of his church, and the nearby guards meant that she had just exposed their attack to their enemies.
Still, the best defense is often a strong offense. “Idiot priest,” she shouted. “Can't a man pray over his family's tomb in peace?"
"Praying? Why, you gutter snake. I'll teach you to p—"
"Who called for the guard?"
The voice was vaguely familiar. It took Ellie a few moments, but she finally recognized the guard captain as one of the sergeants from the old days in Sergius's army.
The king wasn't a complete idiot, then. He'd sent his own men to take over the defenses of this critical city rather than trust his uncle to stay loyal.
Ellie had to hope that the sergeant wouldn't recognize her in her squire disguise.
"This lad sneaking around the crypts. He was probably looking for loot,” the priest announced.
Ellie laughed. “What sort of loot would a broken-down church like this hold? I'm sorry that my ancestors have had to spend so much time here. When I make knight and have a fief of my own, I'll have them exhumed and brought to a new church. Some place where the priests aren't decrepit and senile."
"Senile? I'll senile you, you villain.” The priest gave her another swing with the staff.
Fortunately, Ellie was ready for this one. She jumped over the low swing, letting the heavy crosier smack into one of the guards’ legs.
"Hey."
"I told you he was out of control,” Ellie reminded the sergeant.
The priest's wild swing had been a piece of luck. The guards all backed away from him, giving him looks that were filled with suspicion.
Unfortunately, the sergeant didn't fall for that. “Yeah? I don't remember seeing you around. What's your name? Who do you serve?"
She thought fast. “I'm Ellis, new squire to Baronet Arnold, son of Ranolf.” She wished she'd thought to ask Arnold how long he'd been here.
"Oh? And what horse is Arnold riding these days?"
Since she'd spent the previous night sharing an abandoned stable with Arnold's horse, that was an easy one. “He's a bay gelding. Eight years old. His name is Carrot."
The sergeant nodded. “All right, then, father. I can't say this Ellis doesn't look like a suspicious character but I guess he's all right. We'll just take him back to Baronet Arnold and make sure he's supposed to be out here. In the meantime, why don't you get back into your church and say a few prayers or something? I'm sure we could all use them."
She needed to talk her way out of this one. “But I've got errands—"
He cut her off before she could go on. “You'll come with me, Ellis. Because you were no more visiting your ancestors than I was spinning gold from straw."
She set her face into what she hoped was a convincing sulk, kicked her feet on the cobblestones, and let the sergeant grab her by the ear and lead her off—into the keep.
Chapter 19
The keep's entrance was well protected.
A wet moat surrounded its high walls, providing both protection and disposal for its waste.
A single drawbridge crossed the moat. It was kept raised and was lowered only when the sergeant identified himself and showed his pass.
The lowered drawbridge exposed a heavy iron portcullis that further protected the sole entrance to the keep. Only when they had advanced across the bridge was this raised.
Ellie was dying to ask whether they were always this careful, but she was supposed to have been here before and she didn't dare. Instead, she kept her eyes open, looking for anything they could use in their attack.
Nothing jumped out at her.
The portcullis opened into a narrow stone passageway. Only two footmen or one mounted man could use it at any time.
No carts could enter this way. They would have to be offloaded, the boxes and crates hand-hauled into the immensity of the fortress.
For ordinary living, for comfort, for convenience, the design was horrible. For defense, it was formidable.
The passageway was dark, but occasional flashes of light showed where the kill slots were hidden. Twice, Ellie saw movement on the other side. Even at a time of relative peace, the guards were ready. If anyone attempted to make their way into the keep without proper passes, they'd be showered with boiling oil, skewered by iron crossbow bolts, and trapped by descending gates.
A second guard patrol met them at the far end of the passageway, rechecked the sergeant's pass, and finally allowed them entry into the main part of the keep.
But even that was more darkness, more narrow passageways that could be blocked and defended.
The keep had been built in the days before gunpowder weapons. Instead of windows, arrow slits provided a bit of light and an occasional breath of air.
What they wouldn't provide, though, was access. Even Ellie wasn't slender enough to slip through the narrow openings. The ninja would have to find some other way of entering. And Ellie had already decided it wouldn't be the front door.
* * * *
Arnold's chambers were one level below the floor reserved for the captain of the city and his family.
The sergeant banged the hilt of his sword against the door. When a distracted looking man finally opened Arnold's door, the sergeant shoved Ellie in. “Tell your master that his squire was found wandering around the St. Norton's churchyard and to keep him out of trouble."
Ellie tensed. In seconds, she'd be discovered. And there was no way in the world that she could fight her way out of this keep. Getting killed would be bad enough. But once they'd killed her, it wouldn't take them long to figure out whom she was. Unless the local captain was a complete incompetent, he'd instantly guess what her presence here meant—and take steps to reinforce the guard and institute a citywide search.
"He's a new squire,” Arnold's man explained. “And you know lads, always wanting to explore and get into trouble. Searching for a woman, were you? Your father will be ashamed.” He turned away from the dumbfounded Ellie and spoke to the sergeant. “Thanks for bringing the boy back. I'll pass word to the master that he's been causing trouble."
"Right. I'll hold the Baronet responsible for any trouble he makes. And have him stay away from Saint Amando's Church."
The servant chuckled. “Ran into Father Big-Mouth, did he? Serves him right for wandering without leave. I'll make sure that Baronet Arnold keeps him under control. Now get in here, you scamp.” Arnold's man took Ellie's other ear and yanked her into Arnold's chambers.
The sergeant looked like he wanted to say more, but Arnold's man closed the door on him.
"Now what the devil are you doing here, princess? And where's Arnold?"
"I don't know what you're—"
"Spare me the excuses. I was there when you wandered into Ranolf's manor less than a year ago. And I never forget a face."
Oh, yeah. The aging butler. He looked pretty good, though. Fresh air and exercise had put some color in his cheeks.
"Want to let go of my ear, then, Kalfr?"
Ellie was a little surprised when he complied. Still, although he wasn't calling the guard, he certainly didn't look especially happy to see her.
"You have exactly two minutes to convince me that Arnold is safe,” he growled.
He was a big man, but his hand had practically blurred when he'd grabbed Ellie by the ear. Even if she st
ood a chance of subduing him, she would never be able to sneak out of the keep. She'd have to talk.
No clever lies sprang to her mind. She'd have to rely on the truth and hope that she'd found a sympathetic ear. From the way her own ear stung, she thought the odds were low. Still, even a bad chance is better than no chance at all.
"I ran into Arnold yesterday. I knew his honor would force him to report me, so I captured him."
Kalfr nodded although his face showed considerable doubt. “Say I believe you. Then what?"
"He gave me his parole not to try to escape. So he's unharmed and well fed. At least as well fed as he can be considering he's doing most of the cooking."
The servant breathed a sigh of relief—and Ellie did too. She was telling the truth but she wasn't sure she would have believed it.
Her relief was premature.
"So the rebel army has decided to strike at Harrison? That seems foolhardy, even for a gang of bandits."
She froze, her eyes searching for a way out. Unfortunately, the only way out was the way she'd come in—past hundreds of wide-awake and anxious soldiers.
"That's an interesting speculation,” Ellie said, trying not to admit anything. “What do you intend to do about it?"
"Baron Ranolf is very concerned about your crazy scheme to treat peasants like nobility."
That didn't sound promising. But she wasn't going to compromise on her ideals again. Not even to save her life. “I can understand his feelings."
He smiled. “I, on the other hand, am more sympathetic. Lacking specific orders to the contrary, I'm forced to use my own judgment. And my judgment is that Arnold is better served by you than by Sergius. So, what can we do to help?"
* * * *
It turned out that Kalfr, couldn't do much. Ellie had considered introducing a drug into the keep's food, but ordinary squires and servants didn't have access to the kitchens. Worse, the soldiers did their own cooking so Alys's plans to infiltrate the female servants wouldn't work.