Roused by the sound of fighting, the prisoners were hammering on the doors, begging to be released. In the first cell he unlocked he was surprised to find a handful of Rusties. They all looked like they’d taken a beating. A grey-haired knight followed Garian to the next cell, while his comrades hunted for weapons.
“Is this a full-scale attack or a daring rescue?” he asked.
“It’s only us, I’m afraid.”
The knight sighed.
Garian unlocked the remaining cells; he was searching for one prisoner in particular, but it was so crowded he couldn’t find him.
He was starting to worry that he wasn’t there when a familiar figure barged out of the last cell.
“Are they safe?” Hyram demanded. The King’s Councillor had a black eye and his velvet robes were ripped and stained, but other than that he seemed his usual amiable self.
“You’re welcome, and yes it’s good to see you too, sir.”
“Don’t be glib, boy. Are they safe?”
“Yes…I think so.”
The Spymaster narrowed his eyes. “You only think so? This had better be bloody good.”
“It is. I’ll explain on the way out,” he said as he tried to usher his master over to the sewer entrance.
The scullery maid called over. “We’ve got company on the way, sir. I’d say several and armoured.”
Garian hoped Stenna had succeeded or this would be a very brief escape. “My Lord, if you could make your way down the stairs now.” Garian shouted over to the pantry boy who was holding the door to the sewers. “Fingal! Hurry up and get ’em down.”
He took a deep breath and tried to relax. Saving lives was as good a way to go as any, but it hurt to think he’d never see Suli again. Hurt worse than a knife in the gut. A little longer to think about it, and he had a feeling that it might not seem like such a good idea.
“Well, I must say, this is a poor rescue…” Hyram muttered, dagger in one hand, mace in the other. “Do you know how long it’s been since I tackled anything more dangerous than a mature cheese?”
“Asha’s paps. My Lord, you must go! We can hold them long enough for everyone to get out, but you have to leave now!” said Garian.
Hyram opened his mouth to protest when the grey-haired Rustie stepped forward.
“With all due respect, sir, the Fifth guards the royal residences. We’ll hold them for as long as we can, but I fear it may be little more than a gesture of defiance. The sewers are Ward locked. No mortal force can open them.”
Garian sighed. “How hard can it be? The Wards will be lifted. You can all escape; we’ll stay and cover you.”
The knight didn’t look convinced. “Well, I’m pleased to hear that, lad. Now go, and let us do our job. We’ll show this scum what real knights are, even Rusty ones.”
There was no point arguing, Garian threw up his hands. “Very well, I don’t have time for this. Lock the door behind us, and good luck.”
The knight raised the axe in salute. “Please tell our families; I’m Lieutenant Leo Ternis…” He pointed to the other five in turn “…Fredrick Ghentz, Luta Stornitz, Mishal Lumov, Kyrin Morrill and Kieran Delrich. Please tell them…” The old knight scratched his chin as he hunted for the right words. “Tell them we didn’t betray our oath.”
“You forgot me!” A young girl peered from behind Ternis, eyes bright with tears.
“I haven’t forgotten anything. This rascal is my squire, Gabriella Aldred. She’s in dire need of more training, so I’d be most grateful if you could take her with you.”
“No!” the girl protested. “I want to stay.”
“We need to hurry, sir,” called the footman, backing down the stairwell.
“Go now,” said the knight and pushed his squire towards Garian.
“I’ll tell them,” he said. He’d already forgotten their names, but the girl knew. Stenna would probably say something meaningful to the old warrior, something stirring. He had no words of comfort for those about to die, what was the point? The Rusty marshalled his people at the bottom of the stairs. Garian shouted for the remaining agents to fall back, and he set off towards the sewers, making sure his master was with him.
Hyram took the girl gently, but firmly by the arm and led her down into the darkness. “Did you know I once saw two Guthani Sea Drakes fighting during a thunderstorm?” Hyram’s voice echoed in the dank passageway. “Of course you don’t. Let me tell you what happened…”
To Garian’s great relief when he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw people filing through the open grate and into the murky waters of the castle sewers. Stenna must have reached the Prince. He had no way of knowing if they’d escaped, but at the moment he had more pressing concerns. Shouting erupted from above, swiftly followed by the clash of steel. He and the other agents hurried the prisoners along. When they were all through, he closed the grate. The huge locking clasp fastened over the bar beneath the water with a dull clang.
Chapter Ten
“Why are we bringing him with us?” said Thea, and cast a venomous glare at Corvinius as Alyda herded them along a narrow passageway.
“We might need him as a hostage, Majesty,” said Alyda, tied by etiquette to answer the Queen even though she was more concerned with getting them out than having a discussion about Corvinius. She’d decide what to do with the miserable bastard later. “I’ve arranged horses for us,” she said, hoping to change the subject. “They’ll be waiting near the water meadows.”
“How will we get out of the Arth?” Thea asked.
“Do you know the old boathouse? The one behind the orchard, next to the little chapel?”
“Of course, but it’s…ah, yes. Talin can lift the Ward on the gate.” Thea smiled for the first time since they had been freed. “I know a short cut to the chapel. It’s not a secret passage as such, but few people use it these days. Come—let me show you.”
The Queen set a brisk pace and led them down an even narrower passage to what looked like a dead end. She urged them on and into a cunningly hidden service corridor.
“I often come this way when I want to avoid people,” Thea confided.
The Queen’s knowledge was a surprising boon. Alyda had no idea the passage existed, and she knew the Arth reasonably well. She hoped Tain was sharing their good luck. She hadn’t heard any alarms, which was as close to a good sign as they were likely to get.
Candles flickered in niches set in the walls on the way to the chapel. Centuries ago, when the Arth had been a more modest fortress, this had been the only chapel to Ashania and Sestrian. Like the seed of a pearl, it was now hidden within the great fortress that had grown around it. Alyda listened at the ancient Wildwood doors until she was satisfied that it was empty.
They crowded into the modest chamber. Candlelight bathed the room in a warm glow and draped the sanctuary in deepening shades of amber. A row of simple wooden benches ran either side of a narrow central aisle. The stone floor was strewn with clean rushes and sweet scented herbs. It had been worn into softly undulating hollows from centuries of use. At one end of the room was an ancient altar stone on which were a pair of silver candle sticks shaped like the branching antlers of a stag. Alyda tipped a nod towards the altar. It didn’t hurt to hedge one’s bets and they still had a way to go before they were out.
“I wonder who lit the candles?” said Olin.
The door that led to the orchard was across the aisle, opposite the one they’d just used. While the others caught their breath, Alyda opened it a crack and stole a look outside. The only movement was the gentle sway of fruit laden branches. The sweet smell of apples made her stomach growl. After checking the wall was clear of patrols, she ushered the fugitives across the shadowed orchard.
When they were halfway across, a bell began to toll somewhere in the Arth. Thea froze; Alyda grabbed her wrist and ran her over to the boathouse gate that was set in the curtain wall. Talin shoved Corvinius in front of him; Olin hitched up his robe and ran ahead of them all. They f
lattened against the wall, hardly daring to breathe.
Alyda quickly realised that it wasn’t the Ward, just a mundane alarm bell, but an alarm nonetheless. The walkway above them remained clear, and there weren’t any sounds of pursuit coming towards them from the Arth or the chapel. It didn’t mean they were safe; the bodies in the Queen’s apartments might have been found, or perhaps Tain had been caught. Either way, the Arth was on alert and they had to get out now. Alyda took hold of Corvinius, while Talin commanded the Ward to unlock the gate.
“You’ll never make it,” Corvinius whispered. Even in the darkness she could tell he was smiling.
“You should be grateful that I brought you with us. The Guthani wouldn’t thank you for losing the Queen.”
He leaned closer. “And how would you like me to show my gratitude?”
She drew Tain’s knife from her boot. “By shutting up or dropping dead, either will do.”
Flaking warts of rust crusted the gate’s hinges, but when Talin addressed the Ward and tugged the metal bars, it swung open easily. Once they were all inside, he pulled it closed and it locked in place with a hollow clang. He asked the Ward to make sure it stayed that way.
The rotted decking was beyond any magic he could invoke. Spongy and threadbare, the planks were slippery with fungus and spattered with bird droppings. The pale ghost of a sunken row boat lay just beneath the waterline, and starlight shone through the pockmarked roof.
The building looked like it was about to slide into the Wey, but the gate would hold out against an army if the legends about the Wards were true. Talin didn’t find the knowledge particularly comforting. Right then he’d kill for a ball of Pel.
“Over here,” said Alyda and proceeded to pull off some panelling on the side of the boathouse. Although she was being as quiet as she could, the noise of straining wood sounded horribly loud.
“Why are we going this way?” his mother asked her. Talin was pleased that she sounded more like her usual assured self.
“By working our way along the curtain wall we’ll avoid having to swim the Wey, Majesty. It’ll take a little longer to reach the water meadows, but I think it’s our best chance of getting away without being seen.”
Alyda didn’t sound particularly happy about having to explain her plans, even if it was to the Queen of Antia. He empathised; he’d been on the end of his mother’s habitual interrogations many times. No matter how critical the situation, he knew she wouldn’t move unless forced or convinced that they were taking the best route.
“Are you sure we wouldn’t be better off swimming the river here?” Thea asked as if to prove his point.
“Yes, Majesty,” said Alyda. “The river’s fast and deep here and there’s no cover on the opposite bank. Even if we all made it across we’d more than likely be spotted. The water meadows have tall reeds that we can use for cover and they’re bordered by Tyris wood. They’ll be a damn—.” Ali coughed. “They’ll be much easier and safer to cross than the river.”
Talin grinned. He could hear his mother give a tiny worried sigh, but she nodded her assent.
The ledge at the base of the curtain wall was about four feet wide and overgrown with wiry shrubs and snagging brambles. It was just about passable if they went in single file.
Corvinius glanced over his shoulder at Alyda as she shoved him ahead of her. “How long are you going to keep me alive, ‘Lyda?” he whispered. “How long before you decide I’m of no further use and just slowing you down?”
She didn’t answer. She had no desire to get drawn into an argument with Corvinius.
He laughed softly. “I don’t think you know. I’m sure the Queen and her get are also wondering why I’m still alive. Why aren’t I dead ‘Lyda? Why aren’t I in that, ‘cold place in the Void’, dear old Thea has lined up for me?”
Why not indeed. Alyda tightened her grip on his arm, and let him feel the point of her knife against his ribs.
“Because I want to see you hang, Rufus. I want everyone to know what you’ve done and see you swing for it. I want you to hang until you rot off the fucking rope.”
“Now don’t hold back, ‘Lyda my love. You know what I think? I don’t think your childish notion of honour will let you kill an unarmed prisoner, least of all me. Could it be that you still have feelings for me?”
“Trust me, that’s not a wager you want to make, Rufus.”
She was sure that she could end him in a heartbeat if he tried anything, but he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t given to killing in cold blood. She was an oath-sworn knight; her honour meant something to her, even if it meant nothing to him.
Pain in the arse though he was, Corvinius wasn’t her only concern. Even though she made allowances for the Queen and her younger son, their progress was painfully slow. Not only were they far too noisy, but they had to keep stopping every few feet to help Thea, who kept tripping over her heavy gown and catching it on brambles. If they didn’t hurry up, it would be daylight before they reached the woods.
Eventually they came within sight of the West Gate Bridge. Alyda gave a sigh of relief, they were almost there.
As they clambered over a particularly dense patch of undergrowth, Corvinius stumbled. Alyda lost her grip on his arm. It was the moment he’d been waiting for. Her stomach lurched as she watched him hop his legs through his bound wrists, and angle his body towards the water. She leapt on him and hooked her arm around his neck as he made to dive in the river. Planting her feet, she threw herself back, towards the curtain wall, dragging Corvinius away from the water’s edge. They fell, Corvinius landed on top of her.
Hot blood gushed down her arm as his weight drove him on to Tain’s knife. The traitor gasped; their eyes met. She twisted the blade, up, deeper and held his gaze as he died.
She pushed the corpse off her and put her back against the wall, steam rising from her blood-drenched arm. Someone, probably Trease, had said killing should never be too easy, and never too hard. In this case it had been very easy, and that shocked her.
By the time Talin had struggled past his mother and brother it was all over.
“Are you alright?” he asked. He had the same horrified look on his face as when she’d killed the Rusties earlier.
“Aye,” she said, and wiped the knife on her breeches.
“We should throw him in the river,” said Thea. Her voice was surprisingly cold. For all her tears, it seemed that the Queen wasn’t as delicate as she looked.
“That’s not a good idea, Majesty,” said Alyda. “He might float downstream into the river gate. We don’t want them to start searching up-river for us. We need to keep them in the dark for as long as we can.”
She looked around for somewhere they could hide the body. The ledge wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. “We’ll hide him in the undergrowth. He won’t stay hidden for long.” Not when the rats get at him. “But we’ll be far from here by then,” she said with more hope than certainty.
Thea didn’t balk from piling stones and dirt onto the still warm corpse, but Prince Olin was shaking like a colt. When they set off again he kept glancing over his shoulder at the rough mound, as though he expected Corvinius to climb out of the make-shift grave and come after them. Alyda felt sorry for the boy, but she had no words of comfort to give him. He’d have to find the key to unlock his courage by himself, or learn to live with his fear. All she could do was get him and his mother safely away from here; the demons in his mind were his alone to conquer.
Passing beneath the West Gate Bridge was going to be the most dangerous part of the escape. It wasn’t as busy as the East Gate, but there would still be more guards concentrated in the barbican than along the wall. Alyda tried to hurry them along, but they were only as fast as the slowest member of the group, which in this case was a middle-aged woman completely unused to scrabbling around in the undergrowth. Alyda didn’t like looking after civilians, not even—or perhaps particularly, royal ones. She served them best on the battlefield. All this sne
aking about was a job more suited to Tain, wherever in the Void he was.
When they were safely hidden in the shadowed arches of the abutments, Alyda called a halt so that the Queen could rest. She was quietly grateful when, of her own accord, Thea took off her heavy over-gown and hid it between the bridge supports. She looked cold in her thin under-gown and petticoats, but they might move a little faster now that she wouldn’t be caught on every thorn they passed. While his mother and brother rested, Alyda took the opportunity to speak to Talin.
“The river veers off soon, and the water meadows are about two hundred feet beyond the bridge. If we’re spotted, I want you to lead them into the woods. If Bainley’s there, get the horses and ride north. If not, head north through the woods, follow the river as far as you can. Don’t try to find your father; the west will be crawling with mercenaries and Guthlanders.”
Talin plucked a leaf from her hair. His fingers brushed her cheek, rousing altogether inappropriate feelings given their situation and what had just happened.
“If you think I’m going to leave you, you’d best think again,” he said.
She laughed softly. “You’re such a pain in the arse, Highness.”
Beyond the bridge, Alyda led them along the ledge until it widened out and became part of the watery reed beds that pushed the inky flow into the depth of Tyris Wood.
Wading across the waterlogged ground was hard going for all of them, particularly the Queen. When they finally reached the trees and solid ground, she and Prince Olin collapsed in a heap, exhausted and shivering in the cold night air. If Tain hadn’t found Bainley they’d have no choice but to head out on foot. Looking at Olin and his mother, Alyda didn’t imagine they would get very far. Neither looked to have much walking left in them.
Leaving Talin on guard, Alyda went to find Bainley. She looked back at the Arth. Torches skipped along the parapet, but there was still no sign to indicate they were onto them. Without Corvinius, there was nobody to give the orders, nobody with wit to organise a proper search. Rufus. In the old days, knights were soul bound to serve, it seemed so primitive, so unnecessary and yet after what damage he had wrought. Damn you Rufus.
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