The Royal Ranger: The Missing Prince

by John F. Flanagan

  Fortunately, the daylight was nearly gone and the interior of the building was poorly lit. What windows there were were small and narrow—tall, wide windows didn’t make for a good defensive design. Still, as she mounted the wide stairway, she felt horribly exposed and visible. She stayed close to the balustrade, her soft-soled boots whispering on the timber stairs, and ghosted her way upward. Her skin crawled as she imagined dozens of unseen eyes watching her progress.

  The first floor was the site for Lassigny’s office and living quarters. The door to the office was open and she could see the massive desk, strewn with papers and notes. There was no sign of the Baron, or any of his staff. She assumed he would be in his living quarters, preparing for the evening meal.

  She edged around the stairway. The wide timber stairs continued from this level up to the third. She paused at the foot of the second flight of stairs, peering upward, exposing as little of her body as possible to any observer who might be looking down from the third floor. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing, she went upward again, moving more quickly in her eagerness to be finished with this exposed position.

  She stopped at the top of the steps and took stock. This was obviously the dining hall for the Baron and his senior staff. As she watched, servants were moving among the long tables, setting places for that night’s meal. None of the serving staff paid any attention to her, if they noticed her at all. She quickly continued up to the next floor.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, the seneschal’s office, where she and Will had requested accommodation, was directly ahead of her. The large brassbound door was closed and there was no sound of movement from within. She looked around the third floor. The other three walls were lined with heavy timber doors, all closed. Light was provided by a line of torches set in sconces on the walls. She quickly moved to a spot halfway between two, where the shadows were thickest. She paused, watching and listening.

  There was no sound, although the beating of her heart seemed deafening to her. Crouched back in the shadows, she studied the layout of this floor.

  The wide central stairway went no farther and she looked for access to the higher floors.

  In two of the corners, the line of heavy timber doors was broken by narrower, open doorways. Inside one, she could see the first few rows of steps leading upward. She hurried toward the nearest doorway and peered inside.

  A flight of steps spiraled around the interior of the narrow space. As was always the case in castles, the spiral ran from left to right. This meant that an attacker coming up the stairs would have to expose his entire body to use his sword, while a right-handed defender would only need to expose his right arm. Maddie peered upward. The light in the stairway was uncertain. There were no torches set in the wall. There was only the light reflected from the third and fourth levels to illuminate the stairs. She mounted them quickly, her ears alert for the sound of anyone coming down. If that happened, she’d have to turn and race back down the stairs and find a hiding place on the floor below. But there was no sound of anyone moving and she emerged onto the fourth floor.

  This was a large, open space, with high windows set along two walls. The defensive needs weren’t as important this high up, she knew. She stepped out into the open space and looked around. The two windowless walls were lined with racks of weapons and armor. This floor was obviously devoted to a weapons practice room and the castle armory.

  The tall windows provided light for people practicing their weapon skills. Many of the weapons in the racks were wooden practice weapons, she could see.

  She turned back to the stairway and continued upward.

  So far, she had seen nothing that suggested the presence of a prisoner being held in any of the rooms, and the next two floors were similarly disappointing. A narrow corridor ran around each floor, pierced either side with doors. Those on the outer side were spaced farther apart and she guessed they would be apartments or suites for senior knights and nobles in Lassigny’s court. The doors on the inner side of the corridor were spaced more closely together. She tried one and the handle moved under her touch. Heart pounding, she eased the door open a crack and cautiously peered around.

  She heard a rustle of movement and froze, ready to run for the stairway. Then the silence was broken by an unmistakable sound—someone was snoring. She eased the door open farther and peered into the room.

  A young man, half dressed, was lying on his back on a narrow bed set opposite the door. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell rhythmically. In addition to the bed, the room contained a table and chair and an armoire. A liveried jerkin was hanging over the back of the chair.

  A squire, she guessed. The size of the room and the meager furnishing seemed to bear out the theory. Carefully, she eased the door closed, making as little noise as possible. The snoring continued, muffled now with the closed door between her and the young man. She studied the nearest door on the outer side of the corridor. She moved closer to it and laid her ear against it. From within, she could hear the faint murmur of voices—male and female. That seemed to confirm her theory that these were apartments kept for the senior knights and their families. Silently, she moved down the corridor and listened at the next door. This time, she heard nothing—no voices, no sound of movement from within. She tried the door handle and it moved easily, the latch slipping open with a soft click.

  The door opened inward and she leaned her weight against it, holding the door handle and opening the door several centimeters. She paused. Her heart was thumping and her pulse was racing. She would have no excuse if she were discovered now. Taking a deep breath, she eased the door open a half meter and peered round the edge, ready to take to her heels at a moment’s notice.

  She was looking into a well-furnished living room. The floor was carpeted with several rugs. Two wing chairs stood either side of the fireplace and a wooden settle was ranged along one wall. A dining table set with four straight-backed chairs was by the window. Several doors led off to other rooms, confirming her guess that this was an apartment or suite. As she looked, she heard a door slam from farther inside the apartment, and a male voice speaking. Quickly, she closed the door once more and headed for the stairs.

  The next floor, when she emerged onto it, was a similar layout—smaller rooms on the inner side of the corridor and larger suites on the outer side, where the inhabitants would enjoy views out over the lake and the surrounding countryside. It was possible that Prince Giles was being held in one of the apartments, she reasoned. But there was no sign of guards posted anywhere, which would seem to discount that idea. She hurried along the corridor, stopping at each corner to peer round and make sure nobody was watching.

  The corridor was deserted, and in a few minutes she was back at her starting point. The tension was unbearable. She was continually keying herself up to round each corner, expecting every moment to run into someone, poised to run for her life. Then, as there was no sign of anyone, she found the adrenaline draining away from her. Her jagged breathing grew more relaxed. She paused, took several deep breaths to calm herself. It was time to leave, she thought.

  “There’s no one here,” she told herself softly. “Just relax.”

  And as she said the words, the door beside her opened and a burly figure, clad in green-and-yellow livery, emerged from one of the apartments and barged into her.

  There was a moment’s confusion as the two of them stumbled apart. The man uttered a surprised oath, then peered at her suspiciously.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing here?” He grabbed hold of her arm in a powerful grip.

  “Changing the bed linen,” she replied immediately, and turned to go.

  But the man wasn’t satisfied. “Where’s the linen cart?” he asked roughly.

  She knew that the chambermaids would have pushcarts piled with fresh linen, with space underneath for the used sheets and pillows that they were replacing. Sh
e pointed down the corridor.

  “There.”

  As he turned his head, she tried to pull free of his grasp. Catching him by surprise, she nearly made it. Her arm slipped from his hand. But he instantly snatched at her again, grabbing her by the wrist, and pulled her toward him.

  He was expecting her to pull away from him again. Instead, she suddenly stepped toward him. Caught by surprise, he instinctively pushed back against her. As he did, she grabbed a handful of his tunic, bent her legs and shoved her backside into his body. With their bodies pinned together, she straightened her knees, using the strength of her legs to lift him from the floor, and heaved him up and over her hip in a whirl of arms and legs.

  He hit the floor with a shattering thud. The breath was driven from him in a loud whoof!

  Maddie ran.

  She glanced back as she reached the stairwell. The knight was staggering awkwardly to his feet, supporting himself against the corridor wall. Then he lurched after her, breathing heavily.

  She flew down the first flight of stairs, her soft boots making virtually no sound. She had reached the floor below when she heard his heavy boots on the steps above her. She went down the next flight two at a time. This time, when she reached the bottom, she darted out into the corridor and set off for the second spiral staircase, set at the next corner of the tower. She reached it and plunged into the dimly lit interior. Behind her, she heard the lumbering steps of her pursuer coming down from the next floor. She paused, listening as the footsteps went past the entrance to the stairwell and the man continued downward. Then, figuring he would assume that this was the last thing she would do, she went back up the stairs again.

  This time, she kept going until she reached the top floor. It was used for storage. Old furniture, armor, boxes of clothing and bedding were piled in the center of the floor. At each wall, a doorway led out onto a balcony, which afforded a view over the surrounding countryside. She assumed that this floor would be used as a lookout in time of war. She finally relaxed, letting her breathing settle. She pushed a pile of folded curtains to one side to make a hiding place and crouched down behind them. She didn’t think the knight would continue to hunt for her once he realized she’d given him the slip. But she waited for an hour until it was full dark, then crept down the stairs to the common room.

  As she entered, she saw Will sitting to one side, talking to several of the kitchen hands. His mandola was on the table between them. He saw her enter and glanced at her, one eyebrow raised in a question.

  She shook her head and made her way to her sleeping space. She dropped onto the bed, exhausted by the tension of her encounter and near capture.

  Wearily, she pulled the curtain closed.

  34

  Behind the keep, in the northwestern corner of the bailey, there was a terraced garden.

  It was intended to provide an outdoor recreation area for the castle inhabitants in those times when enemies might be attacking and the castle gates were kept closed. After all, Maddie thought, the staff and garrison could hardly spend all their time enclosed in their rooms or in the public halls of the keep. There would have to be some sense of normality maintained in their day-to-day living.

  The gate and portcullis were both open today, of course. There was no sign of an apparent threat to the castle and the usual stream of traffic made its way across the causeway and into the bailey. But they came nowhere near the pleasant, grassy space. The kitchens and storerooms were located on the opposite side of the castle and access to the garden was limited to those staying within the castle.

  Will and Maddie were sitting on one of the stone benches set under an arbor of trees. It was midafternoon and Will had been playing and singing to a small but appreciative group in the garden. Now he had set the mandola aside and the audience had drifted away, some of them tossing coins into the open mandola case on the grass between his feet.

  He waited till the last of the audience had moved away, out of earshot.

  This was the first chance he and Maddie had to discuss her exploration the previous night. The common room had too many people, and too many potential hiding places for eavesdroppers. Here, in the open, they could see if anyone came too close.

  “Do you think he’d recognize you again?” he asked. Maddie had already told him about her encounter on the upper floor of the keep.

  She shook her head. “I was wearing my cap and I had my hair bundled up under it. I doubt he even knew I was a girl.”

  Will smiled. “Even if he suspected it, his manly pride would hardly let him admit to it. You seem to have thrown him about like a sack of oats. Girls aren’t supposed to do that.”

  “I’ll bear it in mind next time I meet him,” Maddie said. “Not that I’d recognize him, either. It was pretty dark in that corridor. Although I’d recognize his livery,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Odds are he’s done nothing more about it. Probably thought you were sneaking around looking for something to steal. He may have reported it to the seneschal, but what can he do about it? You’re long gone and nothing was stolen. That’s hardly worth starting a hue and cry.”

  “At least we know that the prince isn’t in the keep,” Maddie said.

  “I didn’t really think he would be,” Will replied. “Too much coming and going in the keep. Too many people around. He’s probably in one of the towers—on a high floor. I’d guess that Lassigny would want to keep him out of sight as far as possible.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Maddie said in a warning tone.

  Will followed the direction of her gaze. Baron Lassigny was strolling through the garden area, accompanied by his seneschal. The two men were deep in conversation, their heads close together, which gave Will and Maddie a good opportunity to study him. They had seen him before, but only at a distance and only fleetingly.

  He was taller than average, which meant he had to stoop to speak to the shorter man beside him. He was powerfully built, with broad shoulders. There appeared to be no excess fat on him. He was fit-looking and muscular. His hair was close cropped—black but with traces of gray at the temples. His skin was olive complexioned and he had no beard. Dark brown eyes, almost black, were set under heavy brows. They made Maddie think of a hawk’s eyes and, like a hawk, they seemed not to blink. The nose was strong and the features were even. All in all, the Baron was a handsome figure of a man. He wore a green surcoat, emblazoned with a yellow hawk’s body in plan form—stylized so that the wings formed a heart’s shape. The hawk clasped a short spear in its talons.

  As they strolled, the seneschal’s eyes lit on Will and Maddie sitting on the stone bench. He said something to the Baron and pointed in their direction. Those dark brown eyes trained on them and studied them closely. Maddie shifted awkwardly. She had the feeling that Lassigny could see past her innocent exterior and read her thoughts.

  Will seemed to sense her discomfort. “Relax,” he said softly as the two men changed direction and strode across the grass toward them. As they came closer, Will rose from the bench, tipping Maddie’s elbow to prompt her to do the same.

  Baron Lassigny stopped a few meters short of them, feet apart, fists on his hips as he stared at them. It was an aggressive stance, a dominant one. It was the body language of a man who knew he was looking at his inferiors.

  “My lord,” said Will, bowing his head.

  “You’re the jongleur,” Lassigny said. His voice was deep and resonant—courtesy of that heavyset body and broad chest.

  “That’s right, my lord. I’m Will Accord, of Araluen. This is my daughter, Madelyn.”

  The hawklike gaze switched briefly to Maddie, who dropped into a curtsey. She kept her eyes and face down so that Lassigny wouldn’t see the twist on her lips. She hated curtseying. It was demeaning and submissive. If a man simply had to bow his head, as Will had done, why shouldn’t a woman do the same?

  Lassigny’s gaze flicked
back to Will, who straightened now from his bow. “I’m told you’re quite good,” the Baron said.

  Will smiled ingratiatingly. “You’re very kind, my lord.”

  Lassigny shook his head suddenly. His movements all tended to be sudden and abrupt. “I didn’t say so,” he said. “I said I’m told you’re quite good. I’ll reserve my opinion until I hear you perform.”

  Will said nothing. There was nothing to say, after all. He inclined his head once more.

  Lassigny turned to the seneschal. “When can we hear him, Gaston?” he asked, then answered his own question. “Tomorrow night?”

  The seneschal nodded. “You are dining your nobles and knights tomorrow night, sir. That would be a good opportunity.”

  “Tomorrow night then, at the ninth hour,” Lassigny told Will. He stepped closer and flicked a disparaging hand at Will’s soiled outfit. “Try to clean yourself up. You look like a beggar, not a jongleur.”

  “Yes, sir,” Will said, maintaining his obsequious smile with an effort.

  The Baron snorted dismissively and turned away, resuming his conversation with the seneschal as if Maddie and Will didn’t exist. Again, Will bowed and Maddie curtseyed.

  “So, Gaston, let’s lean on that wine merchant. He’s making a fortune from us. Time to make it a little less.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the seneschal replied, and they moved out of earshot. The two Rangers straightened. They exchanged a glance.

  “Tidy yourself up,” Maddie said, in a fair imitation of Lassigny’s bullying tone. Will rolled his eyes and they resumed their seats on the bench.

  “At least we know most of his knights will be dining together tomorrow,” Will said. “That’ll give you a chance to take a look at the towers. That’s where I’d guess he’s holding Giles.”