by LeRoy Clary
“Help!” I shouted as the first of the arrows flew.
I pushed the first arrow aside with magic, not a lot, just a nudge to make it veer off enough to pass by me. The second was the same. The third came too close behind the second to push aside. It flew directly at me.
I heard people behind me rush into the hall and return fire. My mind registered the activity back there while beginning to push back at the third arrow. I built a mental wall and decided an arrow couldn’t penetrate it. I winced as I expected to feel the arrow plunge into me, but it reached the mental wall and clattered harmlessly to the bare floor.
I looked up and found all five men were down, arrows sticking out of them at odd angles. I turned to look behind me and found six people, each with a bow. They must have fired two or three shots each.
Elizabeth helped me stand. She escorted me into a large chamber where perhaps ten of us faced the king, who was seated on a small wooden bench as his throne. He wore armor, the thick leather type that prevented arrows from penetrating, and a metal helmet. He also wore an expression I never wished to be directed at me.
He spoke, his voice firm, “One general, one of my own, sold out his king, kingdom, and future. We are penned in by hundreds of men and we have no chance to defeat them. They hold every entrance and exit to the south wing. But we can make them pay. There is only one way inside this chamber.”
The words triggered my mind into action. “There is a way out. The same way we came back in.”
He looked up in surprise. “You’ve been outside? And returned?”
I jostled Honest Bran with my shoulder. “Sure. To do so, we needed the help of your most loyal subject to defend you. That would be Bran, here.”
“Stop joking,” Elizabeth ordered. “If you will get your men to follow us, we might be able to get us all out alive.”
“You heard her,” he barked. Then he motioned for her to lead. Instead, Bran went first, me second, and a couple of the king’s men after that. The king followed, and Elizabeth and the rest of the guards came after.
We ran quietly, retracing our steps. At one point, an enemy darted out, fired a single arrow which I pushed aside strike the wall of the hallway. He disappeared and we didn’t bother looking for him. We didn’t have time.
The door to the suite with the secret room was directly ahead. We left a few men at the door with orders to shout out a warning, close and bar it if they saw trouble. The guards we’d killed earlier were still where we left them. The rest of us ran into the second room, the hidden one. I set the ladder in place and Elizabeth raced to the top and lifted the trap door. The king and prince exchanged startled expressions. Both had known about the room, but not the tunnel.
Others followed her up. I waited at the bottom, sending more up first. Then I called to the three men at the door and they rushed in, saw where the others had gone, and were up the ladder without being told. I followed.
As before, I climbed and unhooked the ladder and threw it at the bed. It clattered short and skidded across the stone floor. An arrow flew inside from the doorway. I gently closed the trap door and waited. If the sounds of men setting the iron ladder into place came, I’d flee, but with my short bow, the first one or two to enter the tunnel would certainly die.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Nobody tried to enter the tunnel behind us. I must have closed the hatch before they saw it hanging open. I heard men searching, and at one point the iron ladder screeched across the floor with a clatter and sound of metal on stone. A few muffled orders were given—but the hatch remained closed.
I backed quietly down the tunnel, still expecting it to be exposed at any instant. They must know we’d entered the hidden room and vanished. The search for the exit must be happening. My mind kept returning to the orange mist in the hallway and how weak it had been. How easy I’d defeated it. The incident seemed to confirm what I’d been thinking. The almost dead Waystone meant the source of essence was almost gone and therefore so was the magic power for the mages. If not gone totally, their powers were severely weakened if that was the best they could do at making a wall of fire to consume us.
The sounds of our friends retreating at the far end of the tunnel diminished and I turned to follow them. When I reached the wooden door, they were all waiting for me. The king was more than agitated—he was furious, face red, fists balled. The prince had departed already.
Elizabeth explained, “He went to find the other generals, the ones loyal to him.”
The king spat, “They think we’re still penned up in there with no way to escape and they’re searching for us, but when the rest of my troops surrounds the south wing, we’ll see who’s penned up.”
It hadn’t taken him long to decide what to do. He looked at me. “You found the secret door?”
“Just luck,” I said, displaying my modesty.
He snorted, then said, “No such thing. Now, while we have a moment, tell me about my most loyal subject.” His eyes were on Bran.
I recognized the term I’d used to describe Bran earlier. “Our carriage driver and the man who did the most to rescue you, in fact, he insisted he come along. It must make you feel very proud to inspire men like him.”
“Bran, the carriage driver, you and I will have a discussion or two when this is over.”
Bran’s face was red with embarrassment. He stood taller and said, “Can you take me with you?”
“Where?” asked the king.
“To wherever all of you are going. I want to be part of it.”
The king smiled for the first time. “Will you accept a royal appointment to my personal guards? Later, we can change that, if you like, but certainly, you may go with us. I obviously need people I can trust.”
Bran wanted to go very much if the satisfied expression and smile were indicators.
Elizabeth said, “I hate to mention this, but I have people in need of me at our rendezvous location in the Brownlands.” She stole a glance in my direction. “Damon’s sister is in possible danger and we need a boat sailing in that direction as soon as possible.”
I said quickly, “How long do you think it will take for us to recapture the south wing?”
He shrugged. “I have ten men for every one of theirs, probably more since the three of you arrived and killed so many. The loyal army will enter there soon—and I expect the south wing will be clear of enemies well before nightfall. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“How long before you send troops on ships?”
“I can see how anxious you are.” He turned to one of his men, “Escort these three to the docks and tell Admiral Maas my orders are for them to sail tonight on his fastest ship.”
“Three?” I asked.
“Bran will drive you to the docks and go with you. I understand his carriage is nearby.”
We said our goodbyes and followed Bran and the messenger the king sent with us. At the carriage, he climbed in and helped us, then pointed to the ramparts of the castle. Three Wyvern perched there, no doubt supplying essence to the mages.
“Too far away for scalding water,” I said.
Elizabeth said, “Their essence will help the mages defend the south wing. Good men will die.”
“Only if they are in close proximity,” I said, an idea coming into mind. “Bran take us closer to the wall, as near to those beasts as you can get.”
He clucked the horse ahead and we reached the closest point the road would allow. It was enough. I said, “Elizabeth, use your bow to shoot at them.”
“Don’t be silly, I can’t . . .” her voice trailed off. “I get it. You can push the arrows like we used to do when the Dire Army practiced archery.”
She was already pulling the first arrow back as she talked, thinking she understood, but there was more. I struck a tiny fire at the tip of her arrow. As she released, I fanned the fire into a ball so big a man couldn’t place his arms around it, then directed the arrow to fly higher and faster. The wind pushed it a little left, I corrected that and
sent it directly at one of the Wyvern.
It struck the nearest one solidly in the chest and exploded in a ball of fire, scaring the others so they flew away in a panic. They flew high and fast. They soon disappeared from sight. The one struck by the arrow burned and fell off the rampart, trailing black smoke.
Elizabeth punched my arm with her fist.
“What was that for?”
“Why didn’t you split the fire-arrow into three parts and burn them all?”
“Because I'm too stupid to think of that. Why didn’t you suggest it?”
She laughed, either at my witty reply or at the stunned expression on Bran’s face. Neither of us knew if it was even possible to split the fire into three parts—for me, it sounded complicated to try and direct all three balls of fire at the same time. However, Bran didn’t understand our humor.
We passed the Black Swan and paused only long enough for me to sprint inside and snatch Will’s new sword from our room. Bran drove us down to the docks, however, along the way, he called out to a young man walking the street and had him climb inside and sit beside me. The boats were in sight, and Bran quickly asked him to drive the carriage back to the stable and tell the owner he’d be gone for a while.
As quickly as that, we stopped beside a set of docks where many larger boats and small ships were moored. The king’s messenger, a man stunned by what he’d witnessed since climbing into the carriage, climbed out first and motioned for us to follow him He went to the largest ship and spoke with the officer at the top of the ramp, who sent another messenger scrambling.
Bran, Elizabeth, and I waited on the pier, weapons in hand. A silver-haired man appeared, spoke to them briefly then the messenger the king sent spun and raced back to us. A second young man was at his heels, but instead of coming our way, he ran down the pier to a small, sleek sailboat with two masts.
“This way,” our messenger called, indicating the smaller boat.
By the time we reached it, the captain of the vessel was waiting for us. Sailors were already scrambling as if the ship had caught fire and they had only moments to put it out.
The ship was small, by military standards, perhaps twice the length of the fishing boat we’d arrived on. It was narrower and the bow came to a sharp point. The twin masts were much taller so it would hold more sail. A small deckhouse held steering for bad weather, and a narrow ladder took us below the main deck to another. There we found two doors to cabins behind a tiny eating area, and rows of hooks for hammocks—two high, although the ceiling was not tall enough for me to stand fully upright.
While clean, the lingering scent of previous passengers and crew hung like the scent of old boots on a hot day. It penetrated the wooden ceiling, floor, and walls. Not that it was terribly unpleasant, but it was a mixture of a hundred people, their expelled breath, their unwashed and washed bodies, their feet after removing their shoes, and the onions they’d eaten. Maybe it was not onions, but under the heavier scents, it smelled like it.
We stored our meager belongings, listened to the captain insist Elizabeth occupy his stateroom, which she refused, and the slight motion of the deck we stood on changed. The captain excused himself and climbed the ladder to the main deck. Elizabeth insisted we stay below until invited above deck.
Long ago, I’d learned to nap when the opportunity arose. I went to the sleeping room with the hammocks. Both ends of each were on the same hooks so there was more free space. I strung one, tested the feel of it, and climbed in. The gentle motion of the ship, eased by the hammock trying to always remain centered, soon had me sleeping.
Later, as I awoke and struggled to remember where we were, Anna came into my mind, *Finally. I thought you’d sleep all day.*
*You can tell when I’m asleep?*
*Sure. Instead of barging into your thoughts, I just poke at you a little. Like an itch. If you scratch, you’re awake.*
*You’ll have to teach that to me. Listen, we are sailing your way. Is there a name, so we know where to go?*
*Probably, but I don’t know it. We’re calling it the ‘Twos’, if that makes sense.*
*It doesn’t.*
*That’s because you don’t know our code.* She mentally giggled. *Look at a map. There is a large bay to the south of us, north of that is a smaller one. You get to it by passing between two small islands. There are two rivers at the mouth of the little bay that almost come together but not quite. And there are two tall mountains. We are at the base of the one where the river on your right takes you. Just follow the river, it is not far.*
*Two of everything. The twos. Got it.*
She told me all was fine, but to bring food. They were almost out. I climbed from the hammock in search of the captain. He was standing outside the wheelhouse talking with Elizabeth. She noticed me and asked if I slept well.
“I know where we’re going. Anna gave me directions.” I didn’t bother to explain to the captain, not that he would have believed me. He would think she’d told me before sailing, whoever Anna was. I asked him, “Do you have a chart of the sea on the west side of Dead Isle?”
He reached inside the wheelhouse and selected an oiled leather tube. He spread it on a slanted table just inside the door. I saw the large bay, and right above it a smaller one. There were two tiny islands, two rivers, and three mountains, but probably only two of them could be seen from the water.
I stabbed my finger at it. “There.”
“Nothing is there,” he answered.
“Two rivers, two islands, two mountains. My sister is at the base of that one,” I shifted my finger slightly.
Elizabeth said, “Take us there.”
He didn’t seem pleased, but as was becoming more normal for Elizabeth when she spoke, he didn’t argue. Instead, he rolled the chart and slipped it back into the tube, then gave a few instructions to the helmsman. The ship made a slight turn to the north.
Although the wind was light, both sails were full, and the narrow boat slipped through the water faster than the fishing boat had gone on its best day. The hull tended to lean to one side, making walking awkward, but it had little pitching fore and aft.
I’d only seen six crewmen, besides the captain, and one other officer. The ship wouldn’t carry many troops or cargo, so I assumed it was designed for carrying a few people or messages quickly across the seas.
Our meals consisted of hard bread or crackers, dried meat and fruits, and all the water we wished. Nothing else. But that was enough to satisfy me.
Bran found me on the main deck and stood at my side. He said, “Never been on a ship.”
“It gets boring.”
“How?” he asked eagerly. “We slept in our beds last night, tonight we’ll sleep in the hammocks tonight, and tomorrow—who knows?”
He had an excellent point. That was the allure of sailing the sea. But the excitement soon wore off when traveling on a ship. Working on one might be different. I said, “Do you know we’re going to meet my sister and a young girl? Then, we are going to sail north to the capital of Kondor, Dagger, and start a war?”
He laughed.
I didn’t.
He broke off his laughter and looked at Elizabeth, who had turned her head to observe us. She gave him a brief nod and he turned back to me. “Didn’t you just say this gets boring?”
It was my turn to laugh, and Elizabeth joined in. She told him, “We have a lot to discuss, and can probably better do it at the stern where we’re out the way. Also, we appreciate your help in Malawi, but you’re free to return with the ship—or any other.”
He broke into a huge smile. “Back there, I’d drive rude passengers in my carriage, half of which jump out and never pay me. The rest of the time, I sit at likely places waiting to pick up passengers. Day after day. Want to talk about boredom? I can match you will one dull story after another.”
“It’s not always exciting,” I began.
He doubled over in laughter again. When he regained control, he threw his arms wide. “I met you yeste
rday morning. By lunch, you had an invitation to one of the biggest royal balls of the year. Your entrance will be talked about for a hundred years, that crown of golden light is still a mystery, and you walked right up to the king and talked to him. By morning, the king was well after months of illness, and a revolt in the castle was underway. You broke in a back way and brought the enemies to their knees, then killed a Wyvern with a ball of fire. Now we’re sailing to an unknown coast in a kingdom I’ve hardly ever heard of, and you say it’s not always exciting as you warn me of another war you’re about to start.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I started again, and couldn’t finish. He was right.
Elizabeth said, “What he means is that the last two days were not normal.”
Bran rolled his eyes and drew in a huge lung full of sea air. “You two have had more excitement in two days than I’ve had in my lifetime. And you ask if I want to continue or go back to my old life and do nothing day after day?”
“The king has offered you a position,” Elizabeth said.
Bran shook his head. “I appreciate it, but what he offered is a lifetime of standing at attention at a doorway where he might enter once or twice. I’d be there all day long, day after day. Stand up straight and no talking. All day long. Do his guards even get to take a break to eat or pee?”
“The king mentioned other appointments,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ll go with you if that is agreeable.”
I didn’t know the answer to his question about the guards. What I did know was that Bran asked insightful questions and it was easy to see why he was so excited. I imagined his reaction the first time he sees water streaming from my fingertip. Or, even more, his first look at Kendra’s dragon. Not a wimpy little Wyvern the size of a small house, but a true beast the size of a barn.
No, I wouldn’t tell him of those things. He needed to discover them on his own, but it seemed we had acquired another to join us in our quest, and he didn’t even know what it was.