The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4)

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The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) Page 35

by Andrew Hunter


  The last Templar, the man holding the cudgel backed away from two leering ghouls as they advanced on him. He dropped his weapon and raised his hands.

  "I'm on your side!" he meeped.

  "He's with me!" Ymowyn cried, "Don't hurt him!"

  Garrett watched in fascination as the strange man lifted his hands to his face and scrubbed at his skin with his fingers. The man's cropped brown hair shimmered into curly golden locks as he shook the illusion away to reveal a familiar face.

  "Mister Marsten?" Garrett laughed.

  "Good Afternoon, Master Garrett," Marsten said with a nervous laugh, his eyes going back to the ghouls, "I thought you could use a bit of help."

  "I found him trying to get in to see Serepheni," Ymowyn said, massaging her injured shoulder as Warren wrapped his shaggy arms protectively around her.

  "Where is she?" Garrett asked.

  "Confined to quarters, until this unpleasantness is sorted out," Marsten said.

  "We have to help her!" Garrett said.

  "We hafta get ye clear o' this devil's den," Shortgrass said as he flew up from the hole in the floor.

  Garrett started to protest, but Marsten interrupted.

  "We can do both," Marsten said, "if you'll hear me out."

  Garrett looked at him curiously.

  "Chat all ye want, once we've put this place to our backsides," Shortgrass said, "Let's go!"

  "He's right, Gar,' Warren said, "We gotta get outta here."

  "All right," Garrett said, "Let's go." He took a step toward the jagged-edged hole in the floor from which the ghouls had emerged then froze.

  "Wait!" He said.

  "What is it now?" Shortgrass groaned.

  "They brought another prisoner here," Garrett cried, "The Neshite guy that Shelbie was talking about. He might be here in the dungeon too! We gotta help him."

  The others shared worried glances.

  "No time fer playin' tha hero, boy," Shortgrass said, "Those beggars'll be back any minute to ruin our day!"

  "I just need a minute to look for him," Garrett said.

  "There's no time!" the fairy cried.

  "I'll go look for him, Gar," Diggs said.

  "Me too," Scupp said, "You go on ahead, and we'll catch up."

  Garrett started to argue, but the looks on everyone's faces convinced him of the futility. He nodded and then lowered himself down into the hole.

  "Be quick about it," Warren said.

  "Fast as fancy," Diggs laughed.

  "We'll be quick," Scupp assured him.

  Garrett helped Mister Marsten climb down to the floor of the freshly burrowed tunnel beneath the dungeon cell. Marsten thanked him as he stepped clear of the descending ghouls and brushed the dust from his stolen Templar armor.

  "What did you mean about helping Serepheni?" Garrett asked him.

  "I mean that we can clear her name, and yours, by exposing the real traitor," Marsten whispered.

  "Who is it?" Garrett gasped.

  "Matron Shelbie herself," the blonde necromancer answered with a grim smile.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  "After what you told me about the spy in the temple," Marsten said, "I took it upon myself to do a bit of investigation." He ducked his head, passing through a broken section of wall, as the group retraced the path of destruction left by the ghouls as they tunneled up beneath Garrett's prison cell.

  "I was fortunate enough to discover the secret entrance used by the creature to enter the temple itself," Marsten continued, "and I watched carefully until it returned."

  "What was it doing there?" Garrett asked.

  "Meeting with someone on the inside," Marsten said.

  "Shelbie," Garrett sighed.

  "Exactly," Marsten said.

  "Why would she sell out her own people?" Warren asked as he lifted a heavy section of pipe that had fallen across the path, "I don't think the Chadiri are gonna let her join the club after the war is over. They don't really seem like the forgiving type."

  Passing beneath the pipe with a grateful nod, Marsten answered, "A reasonable conclusion, my friend, and if she had taken the time to think it through before betraying us, she might have arrived at it herself. If you wave enough gold in front of someone, however, I've found that they can be convinced of almost anything."

  "She did it for money?" Garrett asked, "She always seemed like she was really fanatical about Mauravant."

  Marsten shrugged. "An act perhaps?" he mused, "It would be the perfect cover for someone who was planning on betraying her people."

  "I guess," Garrett admitted, "Are you sure it's her?"

  "I saw her meet with the creature, Garrett," Marsten said, "She passed it a number of documents, and it gave her a rather heavy coin purse in payment."

  "And you're gonna tell the High Priestess what you saw?" Garrett asked.

  Marsten gave him a wan smile. "It would be my word against Shelbie's in that case," he said.

  "Yeah, but the High Priestess has a way of knowing if you're telling the truth," Garrett said.

  "And I would have just admitted to breaking into the temple after hours myself," Marsten laughed, "Garrett, I like it here. I'd rather not have to leave the city so soon after my arrival."

  "What are we supposed to do then?" Garrett asked.

  "We have to find a way to get the priestesses to search Shelbie's quarters," Marsten said, "I'm certain they will find some evidence of her betrayal hidden there. Living on the temple grounds, she couldn't have spent the gold without drawing attention to herself. She must be hiding it to take it with her when she makes her escape."

  "How do we do that?" Garrett asked.

  "We have to speak with Serepheni," Marsten said.

  "But you said she was locked up too," Garrett said.

  Marsten glanced around at the ghouls as they stopped to catch their breath in a junction of two tunnels. He smiled at Lady Ymowyn as she flexed her arm, wincing as she tested the muscles bruised by the Templar's mace. "We could get to her if we tried," he said.

  "I'm coming with you," Garrett said.

  "No, yer not!" Shortgrass said, hovering in the air between the two necromancers like a surly bumblebee.

  "Yeah, we didn't just pull you guys outta there so you could go runnin' right back in!" Warren said, "Nobody's goin' anywhere but not back there."

  "Serepheni's in trouble because of me!" Garrett said, "Warren, she's our friend! She stood up for you when you wanted to go rescue Lady Ymowyn. We can't just leave her behind... and it's the only way to get them to stop chasing me too. If we don't prove that I'm not the spy, then I've gotta leave the city and never come back... and who knows what they'll do to Serepheni."

  Warren hung his head and let out a tired sigh. "Garrett," he said, "I don't want to leave her in there anymore than you do, but..."

  "We don't leave her," Garrett said, "It's as simple as that!"

  "I could get to her," Ymowyn said, a shadow of pain still clouding her eyes.

  "No!" Warren said, "They know your trick now, and they could be watching for it."

  "They never saw my face," Marsten said.

  "Could you pass for a Matron?" Ymowyn asked.

  Marsten chuckled. "Sadly, my lady," he said, "My abilities are not as exceptional as your own. I can alter my face and hair at best. I'm afraid that I lack the... physique necessary to imitate a priestess... even a very unattractive one."

  "Then you'll get no closer to her than you got before," Ymowyn sighed, "It will have to be me."

  "No, Ym!" Warren said, "You're not goin' in there by yourself again!"

  "It's my fault she's in trouble," Garrett said, "I'll find a way to get to her."

  "Is it that yer deaf, or just too stupid ta understand tha words that I'm spakin'?" Shortgrass said, "I'll not tell ye again. There is no way I'm lettin' ya go back inside that place!"

  Garrett looked at the fairy in exasperation, and then squinted his eyes. "Huh," he said.

  "Now show some sign that ye heard me,
you great daft shufflefoot!" Shortgrass said.

  "You're right," Garrett said, "I don't have any chance of getting to Serepheni, and it's too risky to send Mister Marsten or Lady Ymowyn back in."

  Shortgrass blinked in surprise. "Mother of Miracles!" Shortgrass exclaimed, "He can hear me talkin'!"

  "That's why you have to go to her and tell her what's going on," Garrett said.

  "Say again?" Shortgrass said.

  "You can get to Serepheni, the same way you got to me," Garrett said, "All you have to do is sneak in and let her know what's happened. Tell her about Shelbie being the spy, and that someone needs to search Shelbie's room."

  Shortgrass shook his head.

  "You followed me all over the city without being seen," Garrett said, "You should be able to fly in through her window or something and let her know what's going on."

  "An' why should I risk ma wings on such a fool plan as that?" Shortgrass scoffed, "What is she ta me?"

  Garrett shrugged. "It's that, or I have to figure out a way to get in there and rescue her," he said.

  "Fine!" Shortgrass groaned, tossing his head back in defeat, "but after that, you an' me are goin' ta have a little talk about t'ings."

  "I can tell you where to find her," Marsten offered.

  "An' who is this great, curly-headed lout that we should trust him?" Shortgrass demanded, lifting his hand toward Marsten.

  "He's a friend," Garrett said.

  Shortgrass gave Marsten a suspicious glare.

  The sound of scuffling feet drew their attention then to the tunnel behind them. They looked to see Diggs and Scupp coming down the hallway, dragging a semi-conscious young man between them. Garrett recognized him immediately as the tattooed shaman that the Templars had arrested during the night raid on the Shadetree camp.

  "You found him!" Garrett cried.

  "Yeah," Diggs said, "he wasn't too far from where they had you locked up."

  "I think we scared him half to death when we knocked his door down," Scupp laughed.

  "Nah," Diggs said, "He was half dead when we found him. If we'd scared him that bad, he'd be all the way dead now."

  Scupp gave her brother a narrow look.

  "It's called math, Scupp," Diggs sighed, "If you ever wanna be a great wizard like me, you really oughta study more."

  Scupp snarled at her brother, but said no more as the young shaman groaned and lifted his head, opening his eyes to see the group gathered around him.

  "Where am I?" the shaman rasped.

  "Among friends," Marsten answered quickly, "You are safe now."

  The young Neshite gave a weak nod of thanks and then whispered, "Water..."

  No one had any. Garrett started to apologize, but the young shaman had already slipped into unconsciousness again.

  "What do we do with him?" Scupp asked.

  "I guess take him back to my house," Garrett said, and then changed his mind, "No... they might go looking for me there."

  "Take him back to Marrowvyn," Warren said, "and give him something to drink. Ym, you go with them and take care of him... and yourself."

  Ymowyn looked as though she might protest, but something in Warren's eyes made her reconsider. "You reminded me of your father just then," she said with a little smile.

  "Thanks," Warren said, looking away in embarrassment.

  "What are you going to do?" she asked.

  "I figure Garrett and me will swing by his uncle's house and grab his pet zombie and anything else he needs in case we do have to run for it," Warren said.

  "Good idea," Garrett said, "We'll all meet up in Marrowvyn later... Until then... everybody be careful."

  "I'll come with you," Marsten said.

  "No, I need you to deliver a message for me," Garrett said, "You can get back inside the temple right?"

  "Yes, but I don't think I can get anywhere near Miss Serepheni," Marsten said.

  "You don't have to," Garrett said, "I just want you to look for a Matron Brix. I think we're gonna need her help."

  *******

  “Caleb!” Garrett called as he ran up the stairs from the basement, “Caleb, we gotta get out of here!”

  Warren headed up the stairs behind him. They had left the door to the tunnels beneath the house open, in case they had to make a hasty escape.

  “Where is he?” Warren asked.

  “I don’t know,” Garrett said, “He’s been moving around a lot more lately, doing weird stuff.”

  “Weird?” Warren asked.

  “Yeah…” Garrett didn’t try explaining any more, he had an unpleasant feeling in his gut as he hurried into the kitchen.

  A fresh-baked pie lay on the kitchen table. Tom the kitchen zombie was nowhere to be seen.

  “Somebody’s here!” Warren hissed, sniffing loudly.

  A pounding noise came from the door of the hallway storeroom.

  Garrett raced back out into the hall, hearing a muffled voice calling out from inside the storeroom.

  “Mrs. Nash?” Garrett cried, fumbling with the door latch.

  Warren growled loudly as armed Templars stepped into view at either end of the hallway.

  “Looks like I was right, Hawk,” Snuff laughed, “He really is stupid enough to come back here!”

  “Run, Gar!” Warren shouted, “I’ll hold ‘em off!”

  Garrett turned to see the Templar known as Hawk closing on Warren with a boar spear leveled at the big ghoul’s chest. Captain Gaulve followed close behind with his mace couched above his shoulder and a wary look on his face. Behind him, two more Templars blocked the path to the front door.

  “I was hopin’ you’d put up a fight!” Snuff chuckled as he and three other Templars emerged from the study and cut off the far end of the house.

  Warren spun to look down the short hallway leading to the cellar as a closet door creaked open. The snarl on his face told Garrett that any attempt to run for the cellar would be met with resistance.

  “We don’t want to fight!” Garrett cried, lifting his hands.

  “Garrett, is that you?” Mrs. Nash’s voice sounded from beyond the storeroom door.

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Nash,” Garrett shouted.

  “You’re under arrest… again,” Captain Gaulve said, “Surrender, or we will kill you both.”

  “Not likely!” Warren scoffed, taking a step back as the big Templar with the boar spear advanced on him.

  “Go ahead, Ghoul,” Snuff said, “You won’t be the first of your kind that Hawk’s killed.”

  “No!” Garrett shouted, “We don’t have to fight! I just wanted to talk to the High Priestess! Captain Gaulve, if we surrender, can you promise me that you’ll take me straight to the High Priestess?”

  “No, Gar, you can’t trust ‘em!” Warren hissed.

  “Promise me you’ll take me to see the High Priestess, and I’ll come along peacefully!” Garrett said.

  Gaulve regarded him with narrowed eyes for a moment before speaking. “All right… lower your weapons men.”

  Hawk gave the captain a dark look, but lowered his spear as commanded.

  “Chain them both,” Gaulve said. Two Templars came forward carrying shackles, one pair human-sized, the other pair looked as if they were forged to hold a troll.

  Warren gave a groaning whine, his eyes wide with uncertainty as he looked at Garrett.

  “It’s all right, Warren,” Garrett said, “The High Priestess will know the truth when I talk to her.”

  Warren growled as the Templars pulled his shaggy paws behind his back and locked the massive manacles around his wrists.

  “Put the ghoul in the storeroom with the others,” Captain Gaulve commanded.

  Snuff opened the storeroom door, and Hawk ushered Warren inside at spear point.

  “Thank you Captain, Gaulve,” Garrett said as a young Templar closed the manacles into place around Garrett’s wrists and locked them behind his back.

  Captain Gaulve said nothing but nodded his head toward the storeroom.

&
nbsp; “Hey!” Garrett cried as the Templars hustled him through the storeroom door as well, “I have to talk to the High Priestess!”

  “You’ll have your chance, boy,” Captain Gaulve said.

  As the Templars shoved the door closed, pushing Garrett back into the dark room, he heard Gaulve tell one of his men, “Inform Matron Shelbie that we have the prisoner secured.”

  “You liar!” Garrett roared, throwing his shoulder against the door with no effect.

  “Liar!” Garrett said again, almost weeping with frustration.

  “What’s happening, Garrett?” Mrs. Nash’s worried voice spoke from the darkness.

  Garrett groaned and then spoke the command word to ignite the witchfire sconce beside the door of the storeroom. The green flame sputtered to life, revealing the worried face of the caterer, the sullen glower of the shackled ghoul, and fifteen glassy-eyed zombies, all crowded together between and atop the spare chairs and card tables that filled the dusty old room.

  “I’m in trouble, Mrs. Nash,” Garrett sighed.

  “Get outta the way, Gar,” Warren growled, “I’m goin’ through that door!”

  Garrett shook his head. “With your hands behind your back?” he said, “They’ll kill you.”

  Warren bared his fangs. “I don’t need my hands to kill them first,” he said.

  “Yeah, you do,” Garrett said, “and anyway, it’s not their fault… they’re just obeying orders. They don’t know that Shelbie’s the spy.”

  “Doesn’t matter, Gar,” Warren said, “As soon as Shelbie gets here, she’s gonna kill you and all the rest of us, and those guys are gonna help her do it.”

  “What’s this all about?” Mrs. Nash demanded, fear creeping into her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Nash,” Garrett said, “One of the priestesses told everybody that I was a Chadiri spy, and they want to kill me for it.”

  “That’s nonsense!” she said.

  “Yeah, but…” Garrett sighed.

  “But nothin’, Gar,” Warren said, “Either we get out now, before she gets back with more guys to help kill us, or we’re all gonna die. It’s them or us, Gar.”

  Garrett fumed, trying to think of something. He suddenly became aware that his nose was starting to itch. He turned and scratched it against the rough wood of the door.

 

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