by P D Atkerson
He moved to the door, hiding in the shadows.
Aroron pulled on the handle, but the door wouldn't move. He slammed his fist into it. Why did it have to be locked tonight?! Stepping back from the door, he looked out over the water.
There had to be a way for him to get into the castle. He just had to find it, and soon! His toes and fingers were already hard to move, to say nothing about how the rest of his body hurt.
Aroron stayed low in the shadows, moving along the wall.
Not more than ten feet away from him was another ledge, if he could make it then maybe, just maybe, there would be a door he could open and get into the castle.
Aroron looked down, his stomach turned, and he swayed slightly. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breathing.
The water level dropped dramatically below him, it was probably fifty feet below the other water, and he couldn't tell how deep it was. If he fell, it might not be like his jump from the tower.
If the water wasn't deep enough for him, he could break his neck, and it would all be over.
He leaned his head against the wall, its rough stone edges scraped against his forehead. What was he going to do? If he didn't get inside the castle, away from the cold, he was sure to be dead by morning. But if he went this way, he might die sooner.
Aroron stood up and pulled his shoulders back. He had to do this, if he died, he died. It didn't really matter how it happened. He had to at least try to help his father. And there was no way he could get out of the castle now!
He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up before starting his climb. If he was going to climb across, he didn't want his fingers slipping off the wall. He swallowed and climbed up. Standing on the short wall, he looked down at the water.
He could hear it, as it roared and hit against the walls below him. "Well, here I go," Aroron mumbled to himself.
Moving towards the tower wall, he grabbed on with both of his purple and blue hands, numb from the cold.
Gripping the stone, he bent over and looked around the corner. There was a small lip at the bottom of the wall, he would have to use it to get across the gap between the two sides, but it wasn't very wide, only about four or five inches.
Why didn't he just stay with his father in the first place? Oh, that was right! His father locked him out of the tower, jumping into the water below had been the only option.
"And a great idea, it was," Aroron said to himself, stretching his arm out over the wall, till he was able to grab hold of one of the stones on the outer wall.
Aroron scooted around the corner, until he hung over the water, with only half of his foot on the edge of the stone lip built into the wall. He took a deep breath and started moving towards the other side of the wall.
Sliding his feet along the bottom of the wall, he transferred hands, grasping the stone. It was cold and rough to the touch and scraped at the tips of his fingers. Aroron dug his nails in and tried to keep his balance. He started mumbling to himself, but even he wasn't sure what he was saying.
Progress was slow and Aroron wondered if he was moving at all. He feared he would never reach the other side of the ledge before dropping from exhaustion. His eyelids grew tired and the very next step he took loosened some of the rock wall's lip.
Three small pieces of stone slid free from the wall and out from under his foot, plummeting into the water below.
Aroron stood frozen in place as he watched the pieces of stone fall into the water, his stomach dropped. It was a long way down there! His head spun and he quickly pressed his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He was going to be okay, he had to be.
If he didn't make it to the other side, there was no hope for his father, and Aroron wasn't about to give up, not if he could help it.
Aroron took a deep breath, and steeling himself against the fear, started moving again. Edging his way towards the other side, the whole time trying to keep his mind from thinking about falling. If he let himself think about it at all, he knew he wouldn't be able to move again.
Aroron stepped forward and his foot slipped. He quickly moved back, his arms and hands shook as he gripped the wall.
He glanced down at the ledge, the lip of the wall ended, and there was nothing else to climb across with. To top it off, the wall still stood a good three feet away from him. If he was going to make it to the other side, he was going to have to jump.
Aroron bit his lip, he knew if he waited and thought about what he was about to do, he wouldn't do it. He lunged towards the edge of the wall.
His left hand missed the edge and he nearly fell to his death. But luckily, he was able to grab it at the last second with his other hand, the jolt went up his arm, stopping him from falling any further towards the water.
Aroron gritted his teeth together and swung his body, till he was able to grab the edge of the wall with his other hand. Then scraped his feet at the wall, till the bottom of them gripped the wall, and he was able to pull himself up.
Once he had his chest at the top of the wall, he hooked his elbows onto the other side and pulled himself over.
Aroron landed on his feet with a light thud and quickly stood up. He stretched his back out, then his arms. They throbbed and he thanked goodness, or whatever was up there watching over him, he was able to get off the wall safely. The landing he found himself on, was different from the other side.
Aroron heard someone moving inside the castle, and quickly ducked down next to the wall.
He pulled his hood up and hoped whoever it was, if they looked out of any of the windows, wouldn't see him there in the shadows.
Aroron knelt there for a few minutes, waiting for any noises to come from the castle. But after a while he didn't hear anything, and his legs started to cramp up. He slowly stood and looked out from under his hood and glanced around.
Aroron was about to move towards the door standing nearest him, when he heard growling coming from the shadows. He froze, his blood ran cold as he turned towards the noise. His heart started to pound, as the creature's steps moved towards him. He could only think of one thing in the castle which growled like that, King Munay's Blood Hounds.
Chapter 6
The Hound
A creature not more than two feet tall, with black and gray fur, emerged into the moonlight. Its eyes seemed to glow red from within.
For a second Aroron's heart stopped beating. He knew what was moving towards him. It was one of King Munay's Blood Hounds! What was he going to do? The hounds were known throughout the castle for their love of killing, and Aroron was pretty sure that included humans.
The moonlight reflected off the hound's teeth. It growled again and bore its teeth, moving towards him.
Aroron's heart started beating a hundred miles an hour, but unfortunately for him, his mind wasn't running at all. He tried to think but he couldn't, just seeing the hound's teeth made him draw a blank. He'd always hated the hounds, and now he was facing one, what was he going to do?
To die by the claws and teeth of one of these hounds was one of the worst ways he could think of to die, even worse than falling to his death in the water!
Aroron swallowed and took another step back, followed by another, trying to see how far he could move before it attacked. He stepped back again and bumped up against the wall. He glanced back and saw the tower wall stood above him now. He noticed there were small ledges cut into it.
He turned back to the hound, as it moved closer. What was he going to do? His palms were sweaty as he closed his eyes. He took in a deep breath and breathed out again, waiting for the hound to attack and tear him apart. He could already feel the hound's teeth digging into him.
As he stood there, an idea hit him.
He opened his eyes, spun around and pulled himself up the wall, as fast as he could.
He feared the hound would be able to get at him and drag him back down to the bottom where it would kill him slowly. But if Aroron had really thought about it at that moment, he would have known the
hound couldn't climb up the wall. He sat down and pulled his legs up in front of him, moving back towards the upper wall of the tower.
As Aroron scooted back, he went too far and bumped up against a vase standing on the wall behind him. For a second, it teetered on the edge of the windowsill.
Aroron spun around and grabbed for it, but it was too late. The vase slipped from his grasp and went crashing to the ground. The shards of glass went flying in every direction.
Before Aroron could think to do anything else, he dove back into the shadows, and hid behind the wall. He hoped against hope. No one had heard it fall or had seen him standing there in the open. And luckily for Aroron, the hound also heard the loud sound of the vase, breaking against the ground and some of the glass hit it in the face. It yelped, turned around and went running in the other direction from him, howling as it did.
* * *
Enrick heard the sound of glass breaking outside his window.
He froze where he sat, he'd been so deep in his book he hadn't noticed the time. He set the book down and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was a little after three. He hadn't thought he'd been reading for long, but it had been nearly five hours.
He frowned and slowly got up and moved towards the window. Why was someone up this early in the morning? He wondered. And what are they doing?
Enrick looked out the window, but in the fading moonlight he couldn't make anything out. He thought he saw something move above his window, but he wasn't sure. Besides, why would someone be out there at this hour? He'd probably just made the sound up.
He was about to turn back towards his bed, when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked down and saw the shattered vase on the ground. He pulled himself up next to the window, and looked down, then he saw the shadow move to the right of the window, it went around the corner of the wall and was gone.
His blood ran cold, someone had been outside his window. What had they been doing? And where were they going now?
* * *
Aroron sat for a moment, letting his breathing slow. Maybe no one had heard the vase fall.
After waiting another minute, he decided to move out of the shadows. But as he stepped around the corner, he saw the brightly lit window in front of him and Prince Enrick standing in front of it.
Aroron ducked back around the corner, as soon as he saw Prince Enrick looking out, and he curled up into a ball.
Had he seen him? Leaning against the wall he closed his eyes.
His clothing had dried a little since he got out of the water, probably because of all of the running and climbing he'd done. His shoulder hurt, if he sat there for too long, he was going to fall asleep. He needed to get moving. He groaned and shoved himself up.
He was next to Prince Enrick's chamber, which helped, he knew where he was. And if he remembered right, there should be a door not far from where he was.
He silently moved towards the wall. His ears strained for any sound out of the normal. He wasn't sure he would be able to hear anything over the sound of his heart. His whole body was tense as he drew near to the wall and saw the door.
Aroron grabbed a hold of the door's handle and pulled. The door slid open silently, and Aroron's heart jumped for joy. He glanced around one last time, before stepping through the door and slowly closing it behind him.
He leaned back against the door and listened for any sound over his breathing.
He heard fire crackling near him, and his heart thudded in his chest. Just the thought of a fire place warmed him up a little. He pushed himself up and slowly moved towards the sound of the fire.
The noise was coming from inside one of the rooms. The door was shut, and he opened it slowly. The door slid open easily, to reveal a small darkly lit room, with a fire burning in the center of it.
He moved towards the fireplace and knelt, doubting anyone would think about it if they saw him there. Not tonight, it was freezing. Any night guard would want to warm themselves up before going to their chamber.
Finally, after he'd warmed himself as much as he could, he moved back outside the room and started down the hallway. He knew he'd have to go back outside before he found his uncle, but right then, he really didn't want to go back out into the cold.
After searching most of the night, Aroron found his way back to the parts of the castle he knew his way around. In no time he found the yard in front of his uncle, Lord Trot's chamber. Unfortunately, the chamber's deck stood fifteen feet above him with two levels in between them. His hopes fell, what were the chances he'd be able to climb up?
What choice did he have? If he didn't try, then someone would find him and take him to King Munay. If he tried, then there was a chance he'd be able to find his uncle and ask for help getting his father back.
Aroron moved towards the wall and quickly pulled himself up. Then he jumped for the next ledge, digging his fingers in and tried to pull himself up, but he just couldn't make it. He gritted his teeth and hooked his arms around the railing.
"Help!" Aroron whispered, into the darkness as his grip slipped on the stones and he nearly fell back onto the hard ground below. "Help!" he said louder, the fear of breaking every bone in his body, bigger than fear of the guards who would hear him. He could see the flicker of a fire pit burning just a few feet away from him, on the side of the deck.
He started to think about climbing back down, when he heard movement from above, a man stood over the railing and squinted down at Aroron, his eyes widened, and the man's jaw dropped.
"Aroron! What are you doing here?" the man asked, as he quickly bent over and grabbed Aroron's arms, he missed the first time. He bent down again and helped pull Aroron up over the railing and onto the stone deck.
Aroron gasped and fell against the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.
"I need help, Gil," Aroron said. He sat up, coughed, and then fell back, groaning.
"Come over to the fire, quickly! Before you catch a cold," Gil said, as he helped Aroron stand and moved him to where the fire roared.
The fire stood two feet tall inside the pit, and Aroron felt like stepping into it, but he didn't. His mind wasn't that blurry!
"You're lucky I'm still here, I was about to go inside for the night," Gil said. Aroron knelt next to the fire and pulled his cloak off. He laid it across the hearth and leaned close to the fire.
"I need help," Aroron said, as he sat down on one of the metal chairs and rung out the bottom of his shirt.
"What happened?" Gil asked, picking up another log to put into the fire pit.
Aroron bit his lip. "It's best I tell Lord Trot first," he said.
Gil nodded. "He's asleep, but I'll go wake him." He vanished through one of the doors.
Gil returned a few minutes later, followed by a young man in his late twenties. He wore a loose-fitting gray shirt, untucked. His pants were partly tucked into his boots. His eyes were blurry, but he looked mostly awake.
Aroron quickly stood when he entered. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, Lord Trot," he said, lowering his head.
"I've told you not to call me that, we're family. Your mother was my sister. Just 'Trot' will do," he said. "Don't worry about the time, I was going to get up in seven hours anyway," he said, smiling. "Now, what's going on?" Trot asked, as he sat on one of the chairs next to the fire, rubbing his hands together.
"It's a long story and I don't understand everything. But Sir Kant has taken my father and I fear for his life," Aroron said, lowering his voice to a whisper. He didn't know who else was still up.
"Why?" Trot asked.
Aroron bent his head down. "We tried to leave the castle tonight. My father's injured. I know the King will not look kindly on his unfaithfulness." Aroron fought to control himself, Shon wouldn't want him babbling.
Lord Trot nodded. "You're right, he won't let anyone think he's weak." He bit his lip and looked down. "But I don't think you have to worry about him. You should have left when you had the
chance." He pushed himself up and walked over to the railing looking out over the water. "As long as Munay knows you're alive and not under his control, Shon will be safe. He will use him as leverage to bring you back." Trot turned to Aroron. "We have to get you out of here."
"I'm not leaving without Shon!" Aroron said, his voice tinged with irritation. "He's my father and I will not stand by and do nothing!"
Trot looked at him sadly. "Not everyone cares so much about their father," he whispered. "I can't get him out of the dungeon, which is where he will be, but I think I can take you to see him and say goodbye. I'll take you tomorrow," he said. "But right now, you need to go change before you catch a cold. Gil, make him a bath, please. And can you get a new pair of clothing for him?" Lord Trot asked, turning towards his servant.
Gil bowed low to Lord Trot. "Yes, my lord," he said, leaving the room without another word. He returned a minute later, carrying a bucket of hot water. Which he poured into the tub and left to get more.
Once Aroron was done bathing, he changed into a loose-fitting shirt and pants, which Gil had laid out for him.
They were soft and warm, and felt good on his tired body. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this tired.
Aroron went back into the main room, to dry his hair by the fire. Trot sat in a chair, staring intently into the warm flames. He only looked up when Aroron cleared his throat.
"We will need to get up early if we want to get to the dungeon before the castle wakes," Trot said. "See you early in the morning, Aroron." With that, he left without another word.
Gil gave up his bed to Aroron and slept outside next to the fire. Aroron tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't hear of his lord's nephew sleeping in the cold, not after everything he'd been through. He said, 'he'd be fine sleeping out there, he would have to get up soon anyway.'
Aroron thanked him and headed towards the servant's smaller room, next to Lord Trot's master chamber.
The room wasn't much smaller than Aroron's room, but it was almost empty, except for Gil's bed, a table next to it and a small fireplace at the end of the room. Next to the bed was a small pile of books.