Fantasy Kingdom XXI

by Lisa Anne Nisula

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Do you hear that?”

  Charles listened, holding his breath.

  Screams.

  Chapter 21

  Charles ran to the door, drawing his sword as he ran, and flung the door open.

  The light was blinding. Even when Charles closed his eyes, the light still felt like it was burning his retinas.

  He heard the screams again. Both Melissina and Phichorian.

  “What’s wrong?” Charles yelled.

  “Charles? Where are you? The light.” It was Phichorian’s voice.

  Charles turned to Bobble. “Is there something I can hold?”

  Bobble made a small gesture and pulled a ball of knitting yarn from the air. “I’ll hold the end.”

  “Thanks.” Charles sheathed his sword and took the ball of yarn, which got larger as it fell into his hand, and rolled it out behind him.

  It was more comfortable to keep his eyes closed. He couldn’t see anything anyway. Charles held his hand out, waving it around and calling, “You here? Anyone?” as he walked.

  His fingers brushed a hand with calloused fingertips. He clutched at it, “Phichorian?”

  “Yes. I have Melissina.”

  Charles guided Phichorian’s hand to his shoulder. “Hold on.” He felt Phichorian’s fingers close around his shoulder.

  Charles started to wind in the yarn as he followed it back by touch. Phichorian’s hand stayed firmly on Charles’s shoulder. Then Charles felt Bobble’s small hand on his finger and opened his eyes. Looking into the normally lit room was restful.

  “We’re here.” Without looking back, Charles pulled Phichorian into the room, then left Bobble to keep an eye on them while he ran behind the door. Using the door to block the light, he watched until he saw Melissina inside, then pushed the door closed. He leaned against the door and let his eyes readjust.

  Melissina stumbled to one of the chairs and sat down. Phichorian stood right where Bobble had left him, squinting into the room.

  When Charles could see normally again, he figured they’d rested long enough and asked what he’d been dying to know. “Is that what it was supposed to do?”

  Melissina answered, “It seems so. I don’t know. I don’t think anybody did. Except maybe Flamebringer.”

  “You realize what it did, don’t you?” Phichorian asked. When no one answered, he went on as if they had. “Necorious’s hoards can’t exist in the light.”

  Melissina sat up. “So we’ve just destroyed most of his army within the castle.”

  Phichorian nodded.

  “If only we’d known, we could have had an army of our own outside the gates, ready to take advantage of this.”

  “But it’s still good, right?” Charles asked.

  Phichorian nodded. “It will take a while for Necorious to recreate the army. We’ve bought weeks, maybe even months.”

  Melissina took over planning. “We’ll have to get out of here and raise an army. I wonder if we could get to Father and bring him out. People would flock to us if they knew he was free.”

  Charles let Melissina and Phichorian hash out the details of the muster. He leaned back, enjoying the feeling that he’d done it. He’d solved the riddle of the Kingstone, done what no one else had. And it would help. A small bit to help King Regulous win back his throne. It was just like something out of Fantasy Kingdom.

  Slowly Charles became aware of Melissina and Phichorian’s conversation. The planning did not seem to be going well.

  “That doesn’t solve the problem of guards. Bobble is certain he had real guards around the prison, and the guards that checked on us were human.”

  “So you think we should just leave Father here?”

  “I don’t want to, but I’m fresh out of ideas.”

  Charles turned to Bobble. Bobble shook his head. “Not going well.”

  “Why not?” Charles whispered back.

  “If only we’d known what it would do.”

  Charles felt some of the elation of what he’d done slip away.

  “I thought Phichorian might have known, but it’s been centuries since someone figured out how to use the Kingstone, so I suppose that was too much to expect.”

  Charles felt a little better.

  Bobble went on, “Even Flamebringer didn’t know, at least I don’t think she did.”

  “She didn’t,” Charles said with certainty. “She wouldn’t have said she didn’t if she did. She would have gone all mysterious and superior.”

  “Yes, I believe you are right. Still, if we had known, we could have had an army, or at least a company of knights, standing by, ready to take advantage of the confusion this has caused. If only Amertious hadn’t been so rude to the hermit. He might have told us.” Bobble shrugged. “But we can still —” He stopped.

  Charles heard it too. The sound of hooves, the jangle of armor.

  “Could Necorious have sent reinforcements that fast?” Charles asked.

  Bobble stared at the window. “Should we go and look?”

  Charles got up but didn’t move.

  It was Melissina who finally went to the window. “Charles, come on. You have to get to the gate.” And she ran to the door.

  Charles glanced out the window as he ran past. Purple-and-gold banners. The crest of the Royal Guard.

  Melissina dragged Charles all the way down to the courtyard with barely a thought to secrecy, not that there was anyone in the hallways to notice. Phichorian and Bobble ran behind them.

  * * *

  The small troop was waiting by the door, the enchanted, seemingly weak point, but they had enough sense to stay outside with their horses tethered nearby. Charles ran out.

  “I have the sweater. I can get you through, six at a time.”

  Bobble hovered around his head, making his claim believable.

  Charles was expecting to have to explain and argue to get them to listen to him, but the six closest knights came forward and grabbed onto Charles without question. Charles brought them through, then went back out for the next group. As he brought the next six through, he heard snatches of Melissina explaining the location of Necorious’s troops and the effects of the Kingstone. Several eyes turned to him and Charles knew she’d mentioned his part in the Kingstone. He tried to look modest and courageous at the same time.

  As each new group came through, one of the knights Melissina had briefed took them deeper in and relayed the information.

  The last group was getting ready when Charles felt a hand grip his shoulder, a hand that felt familiar. Charles glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the gauntlet, a nick in the index finger, a small bit of purple silk twined around the ring finger. Charles looked up.

  Amertious looked exhausted, not from lack of sleep but a kind of worn-out look. Charles almost felt sorry for him.

  When Amertious didn’t speak, Charles decided he’d better. “Hello. Surprised to see you here.”

  “I deserve worse than that.” Amertious squeezed Charles’s shoulder. “I see you succeeded.”

  “Yeah, we did.” Charles didn’t say anything else as he led Amertious and the last five knights through.

  Melissina was pacing the courtyard. When she saw Amertious, her jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly and ran to embrace him. Phichorian gripped his sword until his hand was white. Charles sidled up to him. “Don’t want to break that before the battle.”

  Phichorian snorted but relaxed his grip.

  “How did you know to come?” Melissina asked.

  “And why?” Phichorian asked.

  “I deserve that.” Amertious bowed his head. “Your Highness was correct: once I was in Necorious’s inner circle, I saw his cruelty and evil nature. Regulous is the true king, no matter when he was born. I was hoping to find some information that might be of value, so I stayed, but he did not trust me.

  “And then I saw you, and I realized that, if I was wrong about the king, I had most likely allowed that to color everything
else I was told, and perhaps you had seen it more clearly than I. I knew if the Kingstone weakened Necorious in any way, we needed to be ready to take advantage of it. I took the chance that you would consider finding the answer to the Kingstone more important than telling the guards of their leader’s betrayal, so I snuck out and went to a stronghold where I knew many of the guards would be regrouping, and here they are, ready to fight.”

  “And you?” Phichorian asked. “Are you ready to fight?”

  “I am ready to follow any order I am given by Her Highness. I will do as she wills.”

  “You’ll lead the guard, of course. Now the hermit told us about the shades...” Melissina went on to explain about the Kingstone and the light.

  “So the army has been weakened? Then a full attack would be possible. If Your Highness agrees.”

  “Of course I agree, Amertious. You’re in charge of the guards, so you’re in charge of the plan.”

  “You trust me, Your Highness?”

  “Of course. And stop calling me ‘Your Highness.’ You got very good at that for a while.”

  “As you wish. If you will excuse me, I need to speak to my troops.” Amertious bowed and went to join the guards.

  Melissina turned to Phichorian and stared at him, daring him to object.

  He didn’t. Instead Phichorian asked, “What is our role in this?”

  “I’ll find out after Amertious has given his instructions.”

  Charles stayed with Phichorian. For once the bard did not want to talk.

  Amertious returned in a few minutes and addressed all four of them. “The rest of the prisoners are in the deep dungeon. We intend to draw the remaining guards to the East Tower. It is close enough to the dungeon that they will hear the threat and hopefully come to assist. That should allow you to slip in and free the prisoners. There is a small armory near the prison stairs. Arm anyone able to fight and have them come up to attack from the rear. Bring His Majesty up to the second floor. There’s access to the balcony and he will be able to give his own orders and rally the troops. If that plan meets with your approval.” He looked at Melissina.

  “If you think it will work.”

  “It has the best chance of working.”

  “Then we’ll do it.”

  “Very well. Give us a little time to distract them. Perhaps that is a job for Bobble, if he would accept it.”

  Bobble saluted. “I’ll follow whatever order Melissina gives.”

  “Then, if she would consent, it would be prudent to ask you to hide by the prison entrance until you see the guards file out to join the battle, then inform Melissina that it is safe to begin the rescue mission.”

  Bobble turned to Melissina. She nodded.

  “I will follow orders.” And Bobble flitted into the castle.

  Amertious bowed to Melissina again, then went to the guards. Charles watched as the troop, with Amertious in the lead, disappeared into the fortress.

  Melissina was watching Phichorian. “Are you all right?”

  Phichorian sighed. “I should be glad that he’s back.”

  “But you’re still angry that he left. So am I, but remember, Amertious is loyal to a fault, and he’s transferred that loyalty back to Father. He will save him or die in the attempt.”

  Phichorian nodded. “I know, and I hope it doesn’t come to that. Should we get into position?”

  Melissina watched him, but seemed convinced he was dealing with Amertious’s return as well as he would be. “We’ll go in through the side. It will let us wait in the guard room behind the door.”

  “Wouldn’t the guards be there?” Charles asked before he thought.

  “It’s a guard room for the side gate, not the prison.” Melissina didn’t seem annoyed by the question.

  * * *

  The guardroom was small, but the three of them fit in easily. Melissina opened the door a sliver, just enough so Bobble would know where to look for them.

  Charles stroked the hilt of his sword. Of all the dangers he’d faced, waiting here was the worst. He kept imagining ways they could be discovered, attacked, and overwhelmed, most of them his fault.

  And then Charles heard the faint sound of steel on steel, shouts of men, and Amertious’s voice over all of it, calm and commanding, shouting orders.

  Phichorian crept closer to the door, positioning himself so he could look out. Charles joined him.

  There was more shouting, this time closer to them. Charles couldn’t make out many of the words until someone ran into the passage. He was clearly human, armed to the teeth, and on his way to join the fight. He stopped at the door and turned. Charles froze, hoping they could take on one soldier who was fully armed and trained for battle.

  But he didn’t come to their door. He went to the stairs to the prison and yelled down, “Attack on the East Tower! All hands to arms!” then ran out.

  There was more chaotic clanging, then the rush of feet on the stairs. Charles and Phichorian leaned away from the door, to be sure they wouldn’t be seen as the guards burst out of the stairwell and ran across to the tower.

  Phichorian edged closer to the door again and looked out. There were two or three stragglers in the hall, then silence. Phichorian kept watching the passage.

  There was a glint of light in the stairwell. Phichorian leaned against the door. He kept an eye on the flicker of light until he was certain it was Bobble, then gave the door a little push, just a tiny movement, but it was enough for Bobble to notice it. He came straight to the door and into the room.

  “It’s safe. They have all left. There are about thirty prisoners down there, all your father’s advisers, and yes, your father is there as well.”

  Melissina relaxed a fraction and moved to the door, ready to go down at any second. Phichorian did not move to leave, not yet. “Did you see a way to free them?”

  “They left the keys by the door again.”

  “We’ll have to talk to his highness when this is over and see if that’s a standard policy. I’m not complaining, but I don’t think it’s the safest method of storing keys.”

  “Any other questions?” Bobble asked.

  Phichorian shook his head, then looked around at the others. When he didn’t get a reaction, he said, “Should we go down?”

  Melissina nodded.

  Phichorian pushed the door open and looked down the hallway. It was still clear, so they ran to the stairwell. Melissina had her hand on her sword. Charles copied her. Phichorian took a torch from the wall and led the way down.

  Chapter 22

  The dungeon was dark except for the light from Phichorian’s torch. It was set up just like the prison they’d been kept in, only darker and damper. Bobble landed on Charles’s shoulder and pointed to the wall. “There are the keys.”

  Charles understood. Phichorian had the torch. Melissina was best with a sword. He would bring the keys. He stood on his toes to reach them, then followed Phichorian and Melissina to the first cell. He could see four of the advisers he remembered from the dais the first night he’d come. They looked smaller than he remembered, and cold.

  “Telriven,” Phichorian hissed.

  One of the men looked up. “Bard? What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing you. Charles, if you would.”

  Charles went to the door and tried the key that seemed the most likely. He was very glad that it fit; fiddling with keys would have ruined the casually heroic effect Phichorian had been going for.

  As the door swung open, the men came out, all staring at Charles.

  “That’s the sprite’s sweater,” whispered the man Charles thought was the minister of finance.

  “Yes, it worked very well,” Melissina said.

  “Your Highness. You’re here...”

  “Yes. Sir Amertious is attacking the East Tower. He needs every able fighter. Arm yourselves in the guardroom and see what you can do.”

  The advisers each bowed to Melissina, then ran from the room. The other prisoners had heard the c
onversation and were crowded around the bars. Charles opened the next cell with the third key he tried. The three prisoners stumbled over themselves in their haste. They paused long enough to bow to Melissina, then ran for the stairs.

  “They were part of the king’s guard,” Phichorian whispered to Charles before lighting the way to the next cell.

  Most of the prisoners were just as eager to join the fight. Rothgar was in the fourth cell and Melissina put him in charge of arming the others. In the sixth cell, there were two old men. Charles recognized one as the chief adviser and one he’d seen in the kitchen. They seemed to creak as they walked out of the cell.

  “I’m afraid we’re rather useless,” the adviser tried for humor but only managed to sound depressed.

  “Glorf,” came a voice from the cell. It took Charles a minute to recognize it as Old Josh.

  “Glorf?” Melissina asked.

  “He’s not here,” the adviser said, speaking like he would to a child.

  Old Josh hobbled out of the cell. “In the stable yard. Chained.”

  Melissina and Phichorian looked at each other. “Do you think he’s really there?” Phichorian asked.

  “It’s worth checking out.” She turned back to the adviser. “When Charles is finished with the keys, I want you three to take them to the stable yard and see if Glorf is there and if you can release him.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Wait for us in the guard room.”

  “As you wish.” The three men bowed and made their way out.

  They had opened twelve cells and there was only one left. The deepest and the smallest. Charles knew who they would find there before he found the right key and got the door open. He suspected Melissina and Phichorian knew too.

  He’d barely opened the door when Melissina gave a small cry and ran into the cell. “Father.”

  “Melissina? How? What?”

  “I’ll explain everything, I promise. Or Phichorian will. He’ll do a better job. Phichorian, bring the light.”