“Is there another way to the keep?” Amy asked. She had little knowledge of the secret passageways that were rumoured to exist in this part of the castle.
“The staircase is by far the quickest route,” Gaillart said, “but there is another way.” At the far end of the corridor, opposite the staircase, shadows flickered across the wall. Shadows of the Savages she'd seen in the Great Hall. “In Everlyn's chambers there's a secret door, behind which is a passageway. Everlyn will show you where. Follow the passageway and it will bring you out in the courtyard. From there it's just a short dash to the inner keep.”
“Will the doors be open?”
“In the event of a city breach, the guards are instructed not to close them until the King and Queen are safely inside. Explain what has happened and they'll lock you in there. You'll be safe inside, until help arrives.”
“Will help arrive?”
“It better, or we're all doomed.”
“But I must go to my family. They can't take care of themselves.” Amy thought of her brothers and sisters. Her mind conjured up horrible images that she did not care to think about.
“Just take the princess first, “Gaillart pleaded. “Besides, it's the only way you'll get out of the castle alive. You can escape into the city from the courtyard, if that's what you feel you must do. But I think you're crazy – you'll be dead before you reach your family.”
But I'll die trying. “What about you? You should come with us.”
“Don't worry about me. I'll hold them off until you're safely on your way. Now go! Go!”
Amy pulled on Everlyn's hand. The princess came easily enough, but she did not speak a word. They made their way to Everlyn's chambers. Orange light flickered beyond every window they passed and the sound of clashing swords and shouting and yelling rang like warning bells.
Everlyn's chambers were grand, just like Bahlinger's. The secret door could be anywhere, Amy thought.
She turned to the princess. “Everlyn, where's the door? Where's the secret door?”
“I should stay here,” Everlyn said. Her face was as white as a winter moon “My father, he might still be alive. No one had the foresight to check. I can't just leave him there.”
“Everlyn,” Amy took both the princess's hands. “He's dead. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more you can do for him. We must get you to the keep. Those men out there” – There were voices and footsteps in the corridor, growing louder – “they'll take great pleasure in raping you. Then, at dawn, they'll publicly execute you. Do you want that?” She took Everlyn by the shoulders and shook her. “Do you?”
“No,” Everlyn conceded.
“Then show me where the door is?”
Everlyn turned. “It's in here,” she said, walking towards her bedchamber.
Amy followed, all the time looking over her shoulder, anticipating Savages flooding into the room with snarling mouths and their weapons held high.
“Here,” Everlyn said, placing her hands on the wood-panelled wall. “You only need push.” The princess applied pressure; something in the wall clicked. Then part of the wood panelling disappeared inwards revealing a cavern of darkness beyond.
“We'll need a candle,” Amy said. The voices outside were so loud by then that she was sure they would be discovered.
“We won't need one.”
Everlyn stepped into the darkness. Amy followed. Turning to close the door, she saw, through the ever-decreasing gap between the door and frame, a short, stout man, axe glinting in his hand. He was joined by another as she pushed the secret door closed; she winced as it clicked back into place.
She stood for a moment in the darkness. The only noise was footsteps from the bedchamber beyond the wall and Everlyn's quivering breathing behind her.
Then, in her ear, Everlyn whispered: “Do you think Gaillart is all right?”
Amy was glad the darkness concealed her face, because it would have given away what she was thinking.
“I don't know,” Amy lied. “Perhaps.” He's likely hacked to pieces by now.
“He's a good man. He doesn't get on with my father, but a good man, nonetheless.”
The footsteps on the other side of the wall grew nearer. When they fell silent, Amy braced herself to claw at the Savage's face if he attempted to open the door.
Then came a voice, gruff and blunt: “They aren't in here. They're likely in the keep by now. We should go there.”
There was a sigh. “I wanted the princess. I was the first here, I deserved her.”
“You can still have her when we break her out of the keep, but you might have to wait in line.”
“She'll be a bloody mess by the time it's my turn.”
“Never bothered you before.”
The two voices laughed and then their footfalls became distant. When the sound had all but diminished, Amy turned to Everlyn. She reached out to her in the darkness, finding the princess's hand. “We must go. Which way is it?”
“It's this way.” Everlyn pulled on Amy's hand. “I used to play in here when I was a little girl. I know the way, even in the dark.”
Cobwebs clung to Amy's face as they raced through the darkness. The corridors were narrow; her shoulders brushed against the walls on either side.
“There are steps here,” Everlyn warned. Amy placed her hands on Everlyn's shoulders as she descended the stone steps.
“Are we nearly there?” Amy asked.
“Yes. We're very close now.”
They rounded two more corners. The darkness was messing with Amy's sense of direction, but she put all her faith in the princess.
“We're here,” Everlyn announced from the darkness.
A cold breeze blew into her face. Everlyn pulled on Amy's hand and then she was standing outside. But there weren't any stars and the smell of burning was thick, the sound of battle close.
“Come on, let's go,” Everlyn urged.
Although the light was dim, Amy could make out the circular tower across the walled courtyard. Below it were the cells, but above ground the tower acted as a keep. Its walls were twelve feet thick and it didn't have any windows as such, just the occasional slit to let air and light in.
Everlyn was already dashing across the yard, Amy followed.
“Everlyn,” Amy cried. “I have to go to my family.”
Everlyn stopped at the door to the keep. Two guards came to her.
“Your Royal Highness,” one said. “We must get you inside. Where is your mother and father?”
“They are . . . they are dead.”
The guard paused for a moment and then took her arm. “Let's get you inside.”
“Wait,” Everlyn said to the guard before turning to Amy. “You should come with me. You will die on the streets.”
“I'd rather die trying to save my family than do nothing at all.”
“You have courage, Amy. I admire that. Perhaps I should be out there too, fighting, defending the city as a king would.”
“Can you wield a sword?”
“No. But if I live through this night I swear I will learn.”
Their conversation was cut short as the gate to the courtyard shuddered. It was made of solid oak, Amy knew, but it wouldn't withstand a battering ram for long.
“They have a ram,” the guard said. “Your Highness, we really must get you inside.”
“Come with me, Amy,” Everlyn said. “You cannot leave by the gate and that's the only way in and out.”
“Then I'll go back through the house.”
“To be raped and murdered by Savages?”
“I'll take my chances—”
The gate shuddered again, this time more violently.
“Your Highness!” the guard said, impatiently.
“I'm going,” Amy said, turning. Part of her wanted to stay, to be one of the lucky ones locked away in the keep, but her family would not leave her thoughts. James, Millicent, Rowan, Thomas, Sheena. And my mother and father, too, I cannot leave them.
“I will
not leave you, Amy.”
The gate shook again, this time sending splinters of wood across the snow-covered yard.
“Right,” one of the guards said, “that's enough.” He grabbed Everlyn by the waist and lifted her. “Get the servant girl,” he said to the other guard.
Amy turned to run, but the guard grabbed her arm. Her feet slipped on the snow as he pulled her towards the keep. The gate shook again. One more ram and it'll open, she thought. She tried to prise his hand from her arm, but his grip was too strong. When she fell to the ground in a feeble attempt to halt him, he put his arms around her midriff and lifted her. She kicked out and dug her fingernails into his hands as he walked with her through the keep's doors. When he let go of her she began to turn, but he gave her a forceful push in the back sending her sprawling forwards onto the keep's tiled floor. She scrambled to her feet in time to see the doors close. She heard a key turning in the lock and then the noise of the portcullis dropping. Then there was only the darkness.
Amy pounded on the door, her eyes wet. Everlyn put an arm around her shoulder.
“Rescue will come,” the princess said. “My grandfather Lord Holster is on his way. I heard my father say so. He'll arrive by the morn, with an army.”
Amy turned to face the darkness of the keep, sliding her back down the wall until she was seated on the floor. Everlyn lit a torch on the wall. Light danced around the circular room. There was a staircase on the far wall that spiralled up to the first floor.
“We should go upstairs,” Everlyn said, looking towards the staircase. “I'd feel safer up there. They'll probably try and burn down the door, so it'll get smoky down here. But the portcullis will hold.”
For how long, Amy thought. “I'm stuck in here and my family is out there.”
Everlyn knelt and stroked Amy's hair. “You'd have been killed out there, Amy. At least this way you're alive to look after them come the morn. I envy that. My family are already dead.” Everlyn stood and took Amy's hand. “Come on, let's go upstairs.”
As they ascended the staircase, the keep door shook.
“They won't get in,” Everlyn reassured Amy. “Not like that, anyway.”
Amy felt like a small animal stuck in its burrow, while hungry wild dogs with snarling teeth and hungry bellies waited up top. As the keep's door continued to shake, and yells and screams persisted in the streets outside, Amy sat on the floor of the first floor room next to the princess and waited for the first hint of dawn to arrive.
CHAPTER 38
Savages were loading another boulder onto the catapult, Christian saw. He was sitting atop a horses, clinging to a soldier’s back. The rider didn't slow as he unsheathed his sword and swung it at a Savage who was wearing chest armour and a half-helm. The blow severed his arm at the elbow. Blood spilled from the stump and coloured the snow a bright red. The other soldiers were doing similar, taking it in turns to gallop past, slashing at the short, bearded men. Soon, all were cut down, leaving a bloody mess in the otherwise immaculate snow; an arm here, a leg there.
Marcus was also sitting on the back of a horse. The rider made one last circle of the catapult and then pulled up his mount. Marcus jumped down. He was joined by Gladden.
“What's in those boulders?” Marcus said.
There was a wain next to the catapult, full of them. Gladden inspected one.
“They're made of glass!” Gladden said. The wizard picked one from the wain and held it in his hands. It was large, about two feet across. “It's like the bottle Eaglen had. The potion is inside. When the glass breaks it causes fire.”
“Not just any fire,” Marcus said. “Fire that can smash a city wall to pieces.”
“I have an idea,” Gladden said. “Have you ever used a catapult, Marcus?”
“No, but it can't be that difficult.”
“Look.” Gladden pointed to the break in the city wall, about a mile away. Smoke hung over the scene like fog on an early morning sea. A column of Savages was pouring through the newly opened hole. “If we were to fire one of these glass boulders at them it would be like pouring boiling water on a nest of ants.”
Marcus smiled. “Let's do it.”
To the left and right a column of Kingstown and High Hunsley soldiers, led by horses, were fighting their way to the hole in the wall.
“We'll have to be quick,” Christian said, pointing to the two columns of soldiers. “Or we'll kill our own.”
“Come on,” Gladden said. “Let's get to it.”
The Savages had turned the catapult slightly to the right, intending to send one of the glass boulders to a different part of the wall. Marcus and some of the soldiers turned it back to its original position and then pulled on the rope to lower the catapult's arm. Gladden placed a glass boulder in the bucket and then stepped back.
“Fire!” the young wizard shouted.
Marcus and the soldiers let go of the rope. The catapult's arm sprang upwards sending the glass boulder into the night sky. A few seconds passed when the boulder was lost to the darkness. Then, just like before, the sky lit up brighter than the sun, the ground shook, and there were screams of pain from the Savages unfortunate enough to remain alive. Christian covered his ears. Even though it’s an army of Savages like those who killed my father and my friends and took my mother away to be a slave, I still can't stand to hear them dying in such pain.
As the smoke cleared, Christian could see dead bodies.
“It worked,” Gladden said.
“Now what?” Marcus said.
Stetland! Christian thought. “We should go to the city and help fight the remaining Savages.”
“We should,” Marcus said. “But you need to stay here out of harm’s way.”
“But you said I shouldn't be left alone.”
“You did, Marcus,” Gladden agreed. “And if some of the Savages flee when they see the fight is lost, Christian could find himself in their path. He should probably come with us.”
Marcus sighed. “Stetland really is going to kill me for this. All right, come on, get back on the horse, young man.”
The soldier put his hand out. Christian took it and the soldier pulled him into the saddle. He clung to the soldier's back as they galloped towards the battle still raging. As they neared the city wall, the snow, melted by fire, became slush. Water splashed around the horse's legs. Kingstown soldiers were entering the city through the gap in the wall.
Christian could smell burning flesh as they passed a charred body lying half-submerged in the melted snow. Rubble was everywhere and the horse had to tread carefully. As they got nearer to the wall, dead bodies became more frequent. Then they disappeared altogether and there was only dark-coloured water. The heat here was so intense it burned the bodies up completely, Christian thought. Here and there, soldiers fought with Savages, splashing through the water, blades clashing. Christian's rider avoided them all. He was making for the hole in the wall, Christian realised. Good. That's where Stetland will be. He didn't know how he knew this, but he did.
The horse leapt through the gap in the wall and into the city proper. There was fighting here too and more bodies. Some of the dead were woman and some were men without soldiers' garb. Civilians.
The castle was up ahead. The gates had been smashed; one still hung, albeit awkwardly. Then the rider's horse reared up. Christian lost his grip and fell backwards. The fall knocked the air out of him, but nothing more. He scrambled to his feet and saw that the rider, still on his horse, was being attacked by three Savages. One plunged his blade into the horse's side sending the mount into a bucking frenzy. It whinnied in pain, throwing the rider to the ground before falling to its knees and then onto its side. It snorted, sending clouds of mist into the freezing air. The three Savages turned their attention to the fallen rider. Christian, without a weapon, was powerless to help. The soldier had managed to get back on his feet and was fending off his attackers. But as he shouted to Christian to take cover a Savage drove his sword into the soldier’s belly. Another swu
ng at his neck, half decapitating him. Christian looked away, sickened. The sound of clashing swords rung all around, but no one was paying him any mind. Christian looked for Stetland. How can anyone see anything in this mess? he thought. It's chaos.
Christian considered his vision: the stone wall backdrop, the fire glinting off the sword, the blade in Stetland's stomach. He thought the stone build of the castle looked familiar. And Stetland will go there, to save the king and the queen and the princess.
He ducked under a flying sword, crawled through the legs of a Savage, and then scrambled towards the castle, his heels kicking up snow as he went. Behind him, a house burst into flames, its glass windows shattering. Just keep moving, he thought. As long as I keep moving no one can catch me.
A few guards wearing the green of Elt, bolstered by red-clad High Hunsley soldiers, were forming a column in front of the castle in a desperate bid to defend it, although it looked to Christian like the castle was already lost. He easily slipped past the guards as they were too busy watching for the charge of Savages to care much about a small boy.
Christian ran through the shattered castle gates and into a courtyard. In front of him steps rose to a large double door, which was also shattered. The remnants of a battering ram lay in the snow to the left. But it was the noise of clashing swords that interested him. There's another battle raging somewhere, he thought. He ran towards the noise. Fire was raging across the city, sending clouds of cinders into the night sky. Christian thought they looked like a great swarm of fireflies.
As he ran, he noticed dead bodies in the snow. Not just Kingstown guards, but Savages, too. Christian skipped over them. He grabbed a sword from a dead man's hand – I may need it – then slipped through a passageway between two large parts of the castle and came out into yet another courtyard. At the far side was a high wall and beyond it a circular tower. The keep, Christian thought. And there's a battle raging in its grounds. The gates had been smashed here too; both lay discarded in the snow. Through the gateway, Savages and soldiers clashed. As Christian neared, walking on tiptoes like he was creeping into a bedchamber where someone slept, he was alarmed to see the keep's doors smoking. They've set fire to it, he thought. Of course they have. They probably used Volk's fire-water.
Battle for Elt: The Taking of the Wizard Bearer Page 30