So as Molly approached the parapet a second time and her momentum again slowed, she gave one last desperate kick and lunged forward, extending her left arm as far as it could reach until her palm slapped the top of the railing. She nearly shouted in joy when she felt the cold wet stone, but there was still work to do. Molly’s hand inched forward in snail-like fashion, her fingertips struggling to reach the inner lip of the parapet. She closed her eyes, held her breath and stretched her arm until it ached–then she had it! Her fingers bent and gripped the inside edge. With her strength failing, Molly pulled her body closer and closer until she could reach over the rim with her entire left arm. She let go of the rope, grabbed onto the parapet with her other hand and pulled herself over, her exhausted body dropping onto the stone walkway. Molly gazed at the passing clouds, eyed the Solárin flag waving gently in the wind and smiled.
Molly quickly untied the rope from her waist and scrambled to her feet. She leaned over the edge of the parapet and waved at Princess Rosalind above, giving her a thumbs-up signal. Rosalind waved back and smiled, her body shaking with relief. She returned the thumbs-up sign before disappearing inside the tower for the next phase of the plan.
Molly threw the rope blanket off the parapet so that it dangled lifelessly from the window and then edged around the tower with her back to the wall to check if anyone else was in the vicinity. She held her breath and craned her neck to the right, catching a glimpse of the tower door. No guard stood nearby or walked along the parapet, so Molly exhaled and scurried to the door, trusting that her good luck would hold. She pressed an ear to it, and as hoped, she heard the irritated complaints of the guard inside. Rosalind was acting on cue.
“Now what’s the matter?” the guard shouted. “Can’t I have just one morning to sit undisturbed in my chair and nap? These aggravating women!”
Molly heard his voice trail off and assumed he was hurrying up the stairs to see what Rosalind wanted. She listened for a few more moments, heard the rattling of keys, the squeak of an opening door, then once again the guard’s angry voice.
“What is it, princess? I’ve got better things to do than to trudge up here every time you think you–!”
“She’s gone!” Rosalind cried. “Molly’s gone! She fell! You must do something!”
Upon hearing her voice, Molly carefully opened the tower door and peered inside. She saw the guard standing at the top of the stairs while Rosalind waved her arms madly. Molly had to keep from laughing as Rosalind repeatedly grabbed hold of the man, trying to pull him into the room.
“Quiet now, and tell me what happened!” the guard ordered.
“I’m telling you!” Rosalind exploded. “The girl is gone! She fell out the window trying to escape. Get help!”
The man stepped into the room, pushing Rosalind away. “Stand by the window!” he said. “I don’t want any tricks out of you.” Rosalind retreated to where she was told as the guard examined the nearly empty room. He could plainly see that Molly was nowhere in sight, then curiously looked at the blanket strips tied to the bed. “What’s that?”
“We tried to escape,” Rosalind said, her voice quivering. “We tied the blankets together. Molly insisted that she go first and… She climbed out the window but…” Rosalind pretended to wipe away a tear. “She lost her grip and… Please do something!”
“I don’t believe you,” the man sneered. “I think that pesky kid is hanging onto the rope. You’re not going anywhere!”
“She fell! I’m not lying!”
The guard rubbed his whiskered face. “Prove it then. Pull those blankets inside.”
“All right,” Rosalind said softly, slowly pulling the blanket rope through the window. “But we’re wasting time. If Jeremiah finds out that one of your prisoners escaped…” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “Or worse yet, was…”
The end of the rope slipped over the window sill and fell onto the floor. The man’s jaw dropped. His prisoner was truly gone.
“Rocks and rats!” he muttered, shooting across the room and poking his head out the window. He looked down the side of the tower, his eyes as wide as apple slices. “What’s happened?” he whispered in terror, his voice cracking. He slowly pulled his head back inside, visibly shaken as he gazed out into the gray morning light. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“This is!” Rosalind said, slamming the ceramic basin over the back of the guard’s head. His body snapped to attention as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, then he twisted and collapsed into a heap under a shower of smashed pottery pieces.
“Bulls eye!” Molly said as she ran over to Princess Rosalind. She quickly examined the guard who breathed heavily in his deep slumber, a dimwitted grin pasted upon his face.
“That had to hurt,” Rosalind said, somewhat apologetically.
“It’ll teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget,” Molly said, grabbing the blanket rope. “Help me undo this, Rosalind, so we can tie up our friend. We can’t let him get away just yet. There’s more work to be done. We have another rescue to make!”
They tied the guard and left him napping on the floor, locking him in the upper room and swiftly fleeing the tower. As they hurried across the parapet, Rosalind knew that dozens of workmen were busy in the field just outside the castle preparing for Jeremiah’s coronation. As some constructed a platform for the ceremony, others marked off viewing areas for the citizens from the surrounding villages. But most of the workers had no idea that the man of the hour was an impostor. Rosalind told herself over and over that she had to prove it to the rest of the world because the alternative would be dreadful. They had one chance to expose Belthasar and time was running out.
Molly led the way down the spiral staircase to the prison cells below. The candlelight swirled by as they quietly descended, stopping about a dozen steps from the bottom. Recalling her first time here with King Rupert and Ulric, Molly raised a finger to her lips and signaled for Rosalind to stay put as she tiptoed down the remaining steps to assess the situation. She shook her head with disgust when she saw what greeted her.
One of Belthasar’s guards sat at a table near the kitchen, his back to Molly, shoveling forkfuls of food into his mouth. The man breakfasted on cold roasted deer meat and fried eggs, washing it down with a mug of warm ale while occasionally wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. Molly believed he chewed and chomped his meal as noisily as Magic did when he attacked a bowl of dog food. She thought the man sounded so piggishly loud that he probably wouldn’t hear her and Rosalind if they had stomped down the stairs and laughed like circus clowns. She sighed before noticing a ring of keys dangling from a hook near the archway. She assumed Mr. Tupper and Darius were locked away in two of the cells inside that corridor.
Molly hurried back up the steps and whispered into Rosalind’s ear, explaining her rescue plan. Rosalind nodded and remained on the stairs as Molly raced up to the ground level and back to the hiding spot where the three corridors converged. She passed a few people in the hallways, but as they took little notice of her, Molly knew they couldn’t be Belthasar’s spies. The castle was waking up and she had to act quickly.
She slipped into the hiding place then exited the castle through the side door. She saw the raft on the other side of the moat where Christopher had left it and wondered how her brother was faring on his mission. She hoped he was safe as she zipped around the castle corner to the small opening in the wall on the adjacent side. Molly correctly figured that Belthasar had other matters on his mind and wouldn’t worry about repairing it until after the coronation.
She looked around for a stone on the ground and grabbed one about the size of a baseball, then squeezed inside the castle through the same opening she had escaped out of just after midnight. It seemed like days ago that they had pushed the vault door into the wall, and Molly realized how tired she felt despite the few hours sleep she and Rosalind had gotten earlier. A few torches still burned on the storage room walls, so Molly grabbed one and climbed up the stai
rs to the iron door. As she expected, it was locked.
“Well, here goes,” she whispered to herself. “I hope that guard can hear me over all his chewing.” Then she raised the stone in her right hand and slammed it repeatedly against the door. “Unlock this door and get me out of here!” she shouted, her words drifting down the corridor of cells in the wake of the frenetic metal clanks.
As she continued to pound upon the door and shout, the noises reached the surprised ears of Mr. Tupper and Darius who were locked in separate cells next to each other. Neither had an inkling as to the cause of the commotion. A moment later, the guard looked up from his plate of food, stopped chewing and slammed his fork on the table.
“What in the two kingdoms is that?” he muttered, jumping out of his chair and storming down the corridor, a sword swinging from his side. The guard quickly checked on his two prisoners and found them sitting in their cells, apparently as confused as he.
“What’s the matter?” Mr. Tupper calmly asked as Molly’s commotion persisted. “Is someone trying to break into your prison?”
“I’ll soon find out,” he growled, trudging to the iron door at the end of the corridor. The continuous pounding started to give him a headache. “Think they can disturb my breakfast? I’ll show ‘em a thing or two!”
Rosalind, in the meantime, scurried from her hiding place on the staircase and gently lifted the ring of keys on the hook at the other end of the archway.
The guard turned the key that had been left in the keyhole and swung open the iron door in a fury. “Stop that infernal racket before I–!” Molly looked up at him, smiling sweetly, a rock in one hand and the torch in her other.
“I thought you’d never let me out,” she sweetly replied, smiling at the guard. “Thanks ever so much.”
The guard scratched his head, his mouth agape. His dark eyes blinked several times in utter confusion. “But I thought you were sent…”
“…to the guard tower?” Molly said. “I thought I was supposed to be there, too. But as you can see, I’m not. Go figure!” She slammed the rock against the door a few more times so that the guard raised his hands over his ears. Out of the corners of her eye, Molly watched Princess Rosalind dart down the corridor and made more noise to provide her cover as she opened Mr. Tupper’s cell.
“Stop that!” the guard shouted, grabbing the rock from Molly. His back was turned so he couldn’t see Princess Rosalind or Mr. Tupper, now free and standing at her side. “How’d you get down there? You’re not supposed to be in the storage room.”
“Duh! No kidding,” Molly said, noting at the same time that Rosalind needed one more diversion before she could open Darius’ cell without being detected. “But in order for me to get out of this miserable place, I had to first get your attention, mister. So I pounded that rock on the door. Worked, didn’t it?” Molly chattered away. “I tried to yell, but I didn’t think that would make enough noise. Could you hear my shouts? Think they were loud enough?” Suddenly Molly started to jump up and down, waving the torch and shouting. “LET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT OF THIS DARK AND SMELLY BASEMENT! SEND ME BACK TO THE TOWER!”
The guard looked on in shock as Molly jumped around like a madwoman, then tried to grab the torch and calm her down. “Quit yelling, you little turnip!” At the same time, Rosalind quickly opened the next cell door and released Darius.
“SO YOU THINK THAT WAS LOUD ENOUGH?” Molly cried, still bouncing around like a hungry pup.
“Clam up and hold still!” the guard snapped, yanking the torch out of her hand. As he did so, his head turned slightly as he twisted back, just enough to see Darius and Mr. Tupper charging at him like bulls. They each grabbed one of his arms before he could duck aside. The guard thrashed about like a grizzly bear trying to battle a swarm of honeybees. Rosalind unsheathed his sword and held the tip directly under his chin.
“I don’t think struggling is such a good idea!” she sternly said, eyeing him like a laser beam. “Now I think it’s your turn to see the inside of a prison cell.”
The man went limp and Molly retrieved her torch. “Nice work!” she said.
“I had a good teacher,” Rosalind replied.
“I may have to assign you to the King’s guard,” Darius added with a grin.
“Provided we will have our King,” Mr. Tupper reminded them.
“You’re right,” Molly said. “Let’s lock up this loser and save Jeremiah. Time’s running out.”
“I’ll need to contact some of my soldiers,” Darius said. “There are a few I can trust with my life. They will never turn against us.”
“Yet we must still remain hidden,” Mr. Tupper cautioned. “If we’re spotted by any of Belthasar’s men, we’ll be back inside these cells in no time.”
Rosalind thought for a moment then pointed the sword in the air. “I’ve got it!” she said. “I know the perfect place where we can hide and stage our revolt.” She indicated the squirming guard with contempt. “Throw him in a cell and follow me. It’s time to act!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Domino Effect
Christopher opened his eyes from a deep sleep as remnants of vague dreams drifted in his mind. His back and neck muscles felt as knotted as tree roots, and the room smelled of horses and hay. A hint of gray light visible through cracks in the weathered walls suggested a dreary day ahead. Christopher tried to stand but was held back. He tugged at his hands, now securely tied behind a post inside the barn, and then remembered all that had happened last night. His feet were also bound and he wondered how he had slept at all.
“Can I get some breakfast?” he shouted.
A moment later, Mr. Fennic strolled through a door, leisurely smoking on his pipe. A stream of smoke lazily spiraled up to the rafters.
“I’ll give you a biscuit and some water before we leave,” he said. “Maybe they’ll feed you better at the castle.”
“Where’s Morgus Vandar?” he asked. “I want to talk to him.”
“You’re in no position to want anything.” Fennic untied Christopher’s feet and sat opposite him, puffing on his pipe. “You missed Vandar by several hours. He left in the middle of the night. Had to get ready for the big day, you know.” He chuckled and scratched his whiskers. A mop of dirty hair crowned his narrow face. One of his bottom front teeth was missing. “But don’t worry. You’ll see him before long. Maybe you’ll even get an audience with the new King. I’m sure he’ll want to have a few words with you.”
“Then untie me and let’s go before we miss the coronation!”
Fennic stared at the ground between his feet and laughed again. “We’re in no hurry, lad, and you are definitely not attending the coronation. Me and my horse are going back to the castle nice and leisurely. I plan to enjoy this cool morning.”
“And how am I supposed to get there?” Christopher muttered.
“You can walk along with us. I don’t think Blade will object to the company. Just don’t do anything to upset him.”
“Is Blade your horse?” Christopher asked, squirming in his seat. The rope dug uncomfortably into his wrists.
Fennic stood and removed a dagger from the sheath attached to his belt. He examined it carefully in the dull light. “This is Blade. My horse doesn’t have a name.” Fennic gently traced the tip of his finger along the edge of the knife, looking down with one eye at Christopher. “If a person is really careful, he doesn’t need to worry about getting injured.” He held up his unscathed finger. “See? But if things go amiss, then Blade can be very–hurtful.” Fennic blew a stream of smoke into the air. “So take my meaning, lad, and be on your best behavior. I’d prefer to deliver you to my employer undamaged,” he said, sliding the dagger back into its sheath.
Christopher pulled the hood off his head as he marched through the soggy grass, breathing heavily while trying to keep up with Fennic’s horse. His hands were tied in front of him with a length of rope whose other end was attached to a metal ring on the saddle. As the horse leisurely walked thro
ugh the field, Fennic periodically glanced back at Christopher. A few times he caught him trying to untie the knot with his teeth, so Fennic yanked the rope, causing Christopher to stumble forward and fall. Fennic reined his horse to a stop while Christopher scrambled back to his feet.
“How many times do I have to remind you?” he asked with mild frustration. “I can pull this rope and flop you to the ground in less time than it’ll take you to undo that knot. So if you like falling in the wet grass and mud, and bruising your knees and elbows, just keep it up!”
“Maybe I will!” sputtered Christopher, his face red with rage.
Despite the cool midmorning weather, he felt as hot as on a July afternoon. Patches of mist drifting among the tall grass and scrub brush offered little relief from the fiery anger seething inside him. Belthasar was about to be crowned King and Endora attacked, and here Christopher found himself tied up and following an arrogant thug and a smelly horse through the foggy wilderness. He had to fight back and stop this world from falling into chaos, but the odds against victory seemed to overwhelm him.
No matter how dire a situation he had been stuck in before, Christopher always knew that events would somehow turn out all right. That feeling evaded him now. For the first time in his life he felt hopelessness and despair creeping into his soul. He yearned for an encouraging word from Molly no matter how corny she might sometimes sound. What he’d give to be exploring with her inside the castle again, or playing within the shadowy rooms of Mrs. Halloway’s barn. But those activities seemed like childish games now, and this situation was definitely not a game. Each step through the grass was a step closer to a new and chilling reality. Each step was a step closer to disaster.
“I don’t suppose I can talk you into letting me go,” he asked halfheartedly. “You might be surprised how good you feel doing the right thing.”
The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 35