by Sharon Green
"Very well, young Kylin, you now have the privacy you requested," Rilfe said briskly once Traixe had closed the door behind them, turning to face the King's Fighter. "What plan do you have, and how may we help you with it?"
"I have more of a suspicion than a plan, my lord," Kylin answered, still looking completely assured. "I take it Lord Traixe is completely in your confidence, and privy even to family matters?"
"If he weren't, he probably would have spitted 'Lord Kylin' at first glance," Rilfe came back, aware of the way Traixe was chuckling. "Say what you will, it won't be anything he isn't already aware of."
"That makes it easier," Kylin said, turning to look at Traixe. "When was the last time the exit tunnels were checked? Were there any signs of activity that shouldn't have been there?"
"The exit tunnels are stone-braced, and therefore need only occasional checking," Traixe answered slowly, no longer amused. "The last time I saw them was with Lord Rymar, Evon keep him. And Evon take me for not thinking of them myself! How else could those attackers from yesterday have gotten into the castle?"
"Without the help of the traitor in our household, they could only have come through the gate as delivery men or laborers," Rilfe said, frowning as he looked at the other two men. "We discussed the point this morning, Traixe, and never even considered the tunnels for the simple reason that no one but we two know of them. How could the traitor have found out about them?"
"The information doesn't necessarily have to have come from this duchy, my lord," Kylin said, beginning to move around the room as his gaze turned distracted. "Anyone finding out about the exit tunnels would also find out that all the castles have them, and then it would only be a matter of locating their entrances here in the castle. I not only believe your attackers from yesterday were brought in through one of them, I also believe Sofaltis has already been taken out of the castle in the same way. I'd like your permission for Lord Traixe and myself to have a look at them."
"Damn that son of chaos, why would he have his minions kidnap my daughter?" Rilfe shouted, his fists clenched in fury, his eyes blazing. "I can understand killing her, but why would he have her taken? What does he mean to do with her? Evon help her, what will he do to her?"
"Absolutely nothing, if I have any say in the matter," Kylin answered so flatly that Rilfe's gaze snapped to him, then nearly flinched away again. His own fury, though louder, was nothing compared to what the younger man showed in his eyes, and for the second time Rilfe felt heartened. If it were possible to save Sofaltis, the man she was promised to would see it done.
"Traixe, take him now, and quickly," Rilfe said, drained of the anger as suddenly as it had come. The worst of it was the feeling of helplessness, and he turned away from the two men already heading for the door, needing to sit quietly for a while with a cup of wine beside him. The last words between him and Sofaltis had been ones of anger, and if she never returned he would remember that to the end of his days. He lowered himself slowly into a chair as he was left alone, feeling older than he ever had, wearier than he'd been when he'd lost his beloved Araisa. At least Araisa had gone Home to Evon, not into the clutches of an inhuman, uncaring -
Rilfe's hands had closed convulsively on the chair arms, an unconscious attempt to choke the life from his distant, back-stabbing enemy. After a moment he deliberately relaxed again, smiling faintly at the resolve that had come to him. So Nimram, working behind dupes and hirelings, considered himself safe, did he? Well, he had finally overstepped himself with this latest outrage, and would discover that personally if Sofaltis failed to return unharmed. Rilfe, Duke of Gensea, of the House of Kienne, would protect the lives of his two youngest daughters by personally ending that of His Holiness Nimram I. He'd hardly be likely to survive the doing, but for so sweet an end he was more than willing to give up his life. Rilfe, smiling with pleasure, settled back in his chair and reached for the bell cord to summon his servants.
* * *
"I think we can save ourselves some legwork," Traixe said softly to Kylin as soon as they'd left the duke's study. "Let's stop at my apartments for a moment or two, and I'll explain."
"Let's save even more time and stop at my apartments," Kylin countered, already beginning to lead the way in that direction. "If we find anything worth following up on I want to be able to do it, so I'm going to change out of these boots now. Their interesting color aside, if I don't get out of them soon I'll be mincing around for the rest of my life."
Traixe chuckled at the expression Kylin flashed him, then followed without argument to the destination already started for. Once inside with lamps lit and a hasty look around to be sure they were alone, Traixe settled himself in a chair while Kylin began digging through the luggage the servants had been forbidden to touch.
"There are six tunnels, and four of them can be eliminated immediately, I think," Traixe began, watching Kylin's search with only half an eye. "One can be reached only through the main entrance hall, one from the stables, one from the duke's apartments, and one from the family wing. With the number of people always around three of those, and the duke's possible presence at any time near the fourth, I think the tunnel being used is one of the remaining two."
"Then we'll check those two first," Kylin agreed, throwing around prettily-colored silk and usable leather alike. "If we don't find what we're looking for, we can always go on to the others - Ah! Here they are."
"I never thought I'd find brown a more attractive color than red," Traixe observed with a chuckle, then grew serious again. "If I were to guess, Lord Kylin, I'd say you had a very special reason for all this hurry you're exhibiting. Would you care to share that reason with a simple Fighter?"
"Lord Traixe, if the day ever comes that I consider you nothing more than a simple Fighter, I'll be the one who's simple," Kylin returned, glancing to the other man as he began pulling off the boots he wore. "Something you said about the swamp mist started me thinking, and that's why I'm convinced we have no time to lose. Tell me what sort of men you think are the ones who took Sofaltis. Fighters and Blades?"
"No, certainly not," Traixe answered, frowning as he tried to follow the question to the conclusion it was headed toward. "Fighters and Blades are followers of Evon, and these have to be fanatics bowing to Grail. Most probably they're farmers or hunters or possibly servants."
"Who are almost completely unskilled with weapons," Kylin agreed, his hands still moving. "Are men like those likely to want Sofaltis awake and aware before they get her to where they're going? They know she's a Blade, remember, and they won't want to take any chances. Won't they feel that with the swamp mist they don't have to take any chances? All they have to do is keep her mostly under until they've reached their destination."
"But they can't do that," Traixe protested, straightening in his chair. "Prolonged use of the mist builds up a tolerance, and then it doesn't work any -"
"Exactly," Kylin said grimly, standing up to stamp on his brown boots the rest of the way. "Healers never notice that odor around healing tents that you mentioned earlier, the one that gets you dizzy just from passing by. If enough time goes by that the mist is completely out of a man's system it will work again, but not until then. If those people have no real experience with the mist and are just using it as a handy tool, the girl will come out of it when they're least expecting it, and probably come out fighting. How likely are they to have left her any weapons? How likely are they not to have knives at the very least of their own?"
"We have to find which way they went as soon as possible," Traixe said as he also stood, his grimness a match to Kylin's. "How many of my men do you want to take?"
"I'll move faster and more quietly if I'm alone," Kylin answered, already leading the way back toward the door. "We don't want them knowing they're being followed, or they might decide they'd prefer losing their captive permanently to letting her be rescued. Which way do we go first?"
"This way," Traixe said immediately, and began leading off.
* * *
>
"This is it," Kylin said as soon as they stepped into the tunnel, the second they'd checked, its entrance located in a dark, unused passage near the kitchens. Behind a section of dusty wall-hanging the stone had swung in smoothly and noiselessly, the torches they held showing an equally smooth floor angling clearly downward.
"How can you be so sure?" Traixe asked, keeping his voice low as he pushed the entrance stone closed behind them. "There's nothing here to suggest anyone's been this way since the last time I was."
"Not even footprints in the dust, because there is no dust," Kylin pointed out, raising his torch to see as far as possible down the tunnel. "The first tunnel had dust and footprints both, but only a single set that was scuffed. Someone had been in it and then had tried to disguise his presence, but since it was only a single someone he didn't try too hard. Here all the dust has been swept clean."
"To hide the exact number of feet that have been through it," Traixe said in disgust as he looked around. "And I never even thought to check these tunnels. When this is all over, the first thing I'm going to do is give the duke my resignation."
"What for?" Kylin asked, turning to look directly at the other man. "For protecting the locations of the other tunnels?"
"Now what are you talking about?" Traixe demanded, returning Kylin's stare with confusion. "If they know about two of the tunnels, it stands to reason they know about them all."
"They may know there are other tunnels, but they don't necessarily have to know where they are," Kylin explained, his tone not in the least condescending, Traixe couldn't help noticing. "You said the last time you checked the tunnels, it was with Lord Rymar. Did you check all of the tunnels with him?"
"Why, no," Traixe answered, abruptly aware of the fact that the young Fighter seemed to know the answers to the questions he asked before he asked them. "The only tunnels we were able to look at were this one and the one you and I looked at a few minutes ago. The others have to be inspected in the middle of the night, when no one is around to notice what's being done. Their locations are in public areas, and - Evon broil it!"
"Exactly," Kylin said, obviously seeing that Traixe now understood. "Whoever knew about the tunnels watched to see the areas you and Lord Rymar disappeared into together, then searched the areas once you had left. That gave them the locations of two of the tunnels, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were watching and hoping you would check the others when you found these had been used. There are any number of reasons why they might want to know all the locations, and every one of them means trouble for Duke Rilfe. If I were you, I would guard him very carefully from now on."
"My Fighters already have orders not to leave anyone alone with him, not even his servants," Traixe said, his jaw tightening. "As soon as it was clear Sofaltis was actually kidnapped, it was also clear that Nimram's plans were changing from their usual mode. As soon as we're through here, I'll be going back to the duke."
Kylin nodded with clear satisfaction, then turned to lead the way down the tunnel. There was ample headroom, but only width enough for one man to walk along comfortably. If two had needed to go shoulder to shoulder, both would have had to move partially sideways. The tunnel, dry and sturdily rock-braced throughout, had been swept its entire length, and when the two men reached the end of it they examined the heavy door that would look like no more than rock from the outside.
"It seems our traitor hasn't yet made this an open invitation to anyone who wants entry," Traixe said, pushing at the metal barred door with a shoulder just to be sure. "He probably didn't care to have anyone showing up at the wrong time and giving everything away - which was what most likely happened yesterday with the two kitchen workers. That they were killed rather than knocked on the head or tied up means they got a look at the leader and knew him. I'd have given two fingers of my left hand to have found one of those two still alive."
"Maybe we'll have better luck with the ones who took the girl," Kylin said, settling his torch into a wall brace before turning to the door bar. "I've had occasion to ask a few pointed questions in my time, and you'd be surprised at how eager most people get to answer them."
Traixe smiled as he stepped back from the door, giving Kylin the room he needed. He'd heard more than a few stories about the questioning methods used by King's Fighters, and wouldn't have cared to be subjected to them himself. As long as they could later show that the man they questioned was one of those breaking the Law, they could do anything they pleased - and did. Most of the time just being face to face with King's Fighters made a man babble his head off - to be sure they didn't find it necessary to remove that head in some other, far less pleasant, way.
Once the bar was slid free of its seating, the two men put shoulders to the rock door and pushed. It opened slowly but easily, letting them out into a dark, starlit night, somewhere below the castle in the empty, boulder-strewn area to one side of the road. Kylin stepped back inside for his torch, then the two men separated to examine the ground of the area, neither one having much hope of finding anything. Most of the area was too rocky to take any decent ground-trace, but if they could just find something…
"Lord Kylin, over here," Traixe called softly after several silent moments, hearing the restrained excitement in his own voice. Kylin turned to see how Traixe had folded into a crouch, his own torch flame moving slightly to the urgings of the gentle night breeze, and quickly came to join him.
"Look at that," Traixe said, pointing to the piece of ground he crouched over. "There was a wagon standing here on this grassy patch, and those rocks over there would have blocked sight of it from the road. But look at that track."
Kylin crouched across from Traixe and added the light of his own torch, but it wasn't really necessary. Even the single torch showed the track clearly, a track that shouldn't have been anywhere near as obvious.
"All I can think of is that the metal bracing has come away from the wheel," Kylin said, putting his fingers to the odd-looking gouge in the ground. "If the girl is in a wagon leaving a track like that, a babe in arms would have no trouble following. I'm wondering if this was a lucky accident - or done deliberately to draw pursuit in the wrong direction."
"It could be either," Traixe said, no longer quite as pleased with his discovery. "Are you going to follow it or ignore it?"
"I can't afford to ignore it," Kylin said, straightening as Traixe did. "If it's a gift sent by Evon, it's there to be taken advantage of. If it's a trap set by our enemy, I may still be able to make it work for us. Let's get back to the castle. I'll need my horse, some provisions, and your orders to get me through the gate."
"Even a track like that won't be easy to follow at night," Traixe said as he began moving back toward the still-open door. "You may not be saving any time leaving before sunup."
"Whatever ground I cover will be that much less of a lead they have," Kylin disagreed with a headshake, his mind clearly made up. "They'll be expecting any pursuit to wait until morning, so I have to be better off starting right now. If it is a false trail, I may be able to discover that sooner."
Traixe knew from long association with nobility that any further argument would be a waste of breath, so he sighed and didn't bother. He also admitted to himself that the young Fighter might be right - which he profoundly hoped would prove to be the case.
* * *
Not quite an hour later, Kylin leaned down from his horse to examine the road where he'd come to a halt, not far from a stand of boulders. The lamp he held was the sort used in stables, a heavy candle enclosed all around by metal and glass, easy to carry without losing the flame, and providing an adequate amount of light. With its help the young Fighter could just see the distinctive wagon track where it joined the road, coming from the field of boulders and stones to the right.
"And taking off down the road at a good speed," he muttered to himself as he walked his horse forward. "If they were only a decoy, would they be in that much of a hurry?"
His horse snorted and shook its head,
and he had to smile at the unexpected answer. It was the answer he wanted to be true, but it didn't necessarily have to be. Decoys would know that they couldn't afford to be caught, so they would hardly be taking their time. The only faint hope he had was that a decoy would be trying to leave a clear, easy trail to follow, at least at first, and so shouldn't be hurrying quite that much.
"Well, I'll be finding out eventually," he muttered again, straightening in the saddle. It was going to be a long night and longer day tomorrow unless the trail suddenly disappeared, and it had only just occurred to him that he hadn't changed out of the Flower clothing he'd been wearing. If he'd noticed sooner he would have done something about it, but he wasn't about to turn back just for that. Once he had the answers he was after, there would be time for unimportant side issues. He put his heels to his horse's sides, and moved off down the road at the pace to which he meant to keep.
* * *
The wagon provided a terrible ride, and Merrol was more affected by it than any of the others. After two nights and almost two full days, with only the second of those nights given over to rest, he was beginning to believe he would be violently ill before the trip was finally over. The other two had suggested they leave him behind at an inn, but he refused to allow that. He was the one who had been given the deeply satisfying task of taking the girl to His Holiness, and he wasn't about to let the task be completed without him. He had the sensitivity of a civilized man and that sensitivity was being abused, but he was willing to face anything just so long as the insult given him was repaid many times over.