In one direction they could see all the way down the street, toward the city gate, and in the other. all the way toward the keep, right up to the castle’s portcullis. Jak whistled. “Nice view from here. I knew this would be a good place.”
“Yes,” said Raife, crossing his arms. “You and everyone else. We fought off four other boys to keep this to ourselves. You’d better not let anyone else up.”
“There’s plenty of room,” said Nikolis. “A few more would fit just fine. We might as well share.” More bodies would also mean more people to take the blame if the owner came calling.
“Yes, and more people to come and push us off the edge, if they’ve a mind to,” Raife shot back. “No more.”
“Alright, alright,” said Jak. “We won’t let anyone else up.”
Nikolis looked about, amazed at the crowd that had quickly gathered along the main road, and before the castle gates. Toward the front of the gathered crowd, near the bridge that led into the castle proper, he saw Erad. He almost didn’t recognize the boy prince at first. He was wearing a red velvet doublet, with a double-breasted set of golden buttons, and his golden hair was neatly cut and combed.
Instinctively, Nikolis averted his eyes but this only caused his gaze to rest upon Karlene, who was standing next to her cousin, trying to see over the crowd. She was smiling and whispering something into Erad’s ear.
Nikolis couldn’t help but smile himself. There was something about her, something that made him feel…odd. Again, he could only think that she was pretty. “Like a flower,” he whispered under his breath.
“Isn’t this exciting?” said Garley. “The White Serpent. Here at Highkeep. All the way from the south.”
Nikolis turned to Garley and furrowed his brow. “Who is–” he started to ask, but his question was cut short by the blaring of a chorus of horns.
The boys looked toward the keep in unison, to see four men dressed in long robes of red and white, standing on two highest balconies on the front-most keep towers. They had golden horns to their lips and their cheeks were puffed out and so red they nearly matched their robes. They blew a few more notes, high and long, and then put the horns to rest.
Several moments passed and nothing happened. The crowd waited, looking down the road, toward the entrance to the town. The boys sat poised on the edge of the roof, watching, waiting for whatever was to come.
After many minutes the slow procession began. Several guardsmen in kettle helms of iron, with spears in their hands and swords at their waists, made their way down the street. They were dressed in tabards of blue fringed in white, with a sinuous white serpent winding its way across their chests.
These footmen were followed by the cavalry: armored men on horses, wearing the same blue and white and holding long lances of bleached ashwood out before them.
At the end of the procession came a tall man, with thick arms and legs, sitting astride a beautiful black stallion. He had a thick mane of dark hair, with an equally dark beard and mustache. He appeared to be in the twilight of his fourth decade, with a firm jaw and a noble face. He was wearing a tabard of blue, bordered in gold, with the same white serpent displayed prominently on his chest. Beneath this was a suit of burnished steel plate, from boot coverings to gauntlets, breastplate, vambraces, pauldron and greaves. He spurred his stallion on in a knowing way and directed it down the twists of the street.
Everyone held their breath as he passed, even the boys could not say a word. All that could be heard was the marching of the guardsmen and the sound of hoof beats on the cobblestone street.
“Who is he?” Nikolis breathed when the man had passed.
“The White Serpent,” said Jak. “That’s the symbol of his house…”
“They call him Black Rob,” said Raife, as if it didn’t matter. He shrugged his shoulders pretending as if he too had not been caught in the same state of awe as the rest of them, a few moments before.
“But who is he?” asked Nikolis. “I mean…who…”
“Lord Robert Casserly,” said Garley. For once, the smile was gone from his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off the diminishing form astride his powerful mount, which was now making its way across the bridge and toward the keep. “He’s the Lord of Seaport and Regent of the South.”
The boys continued to watch as the procession made its way through the keep gates. Nikolis couldn’t help but be impressed by the show of guardsmen and cavalry; his imagination starting to flit in all manner of directions. When the last of the infantry, and the Lord Regent himself, had made their way through the gates, the crowd started to disperse. Guardsmen took their usual positions at the bridge and townsfolk went back to their homes.
The boys sat in silence for a few moments. Nikolis could tell the others were thinking along the same lines as he was. Guardsmen out in the field, defending the honor of the kingdom, battling the wicked, swords in hands…
Swords…Master Drennen! Nikolis looked up to see the sun now nearly below the horizon, the sky turning dark and grey. He was supposed to be in his room. Drennen had forbid him to delay, and now the crowd was gone. The master might very well be back to the tower by now, back to his room, looking for him.
Nikolis stood up and looked around. Slowly, the other boys came to and pondered what he was doing. “I’ve…I’ve got to get back,” Nikolis said. “I…I was supposed to be back by now.”
“He’s right,” said Jak. “We stayed too long. Master Drennen’ll have my hide just as much if he finds I left the armory untended.”
“Us too!” said Garley. No smile now present. “Littlefield will have us lashed. We snuck out.”
Raife waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not afraid of that old grump. I go where I want to go. Being a Penderton has its occasional advantages.”
“Your own father will have your head when Littlefield tells him!” said Garley.
Raife chuckled and slapped Garley on the back. “If my own father found his way out of mead or maid, I’d be more than a bit surprised.”
“Come on,” said Jak. “Let’s get out of ‘ere. No need for sqwakin.” He shot Raife a glare. “Some of us got to get back.”
Raife shrugged off the look but followed the other boys as they made their way to the roof’s edge. Jak hopped down, followed by Nikolis. Garley attempted a similar maneuver but only managed to crash through the crate below, and land on his backside. He howled in pain.
“Keep it down!” said Jak, as he and Nikolis helped him up. Raife sprung down onto the ground with surprising agility, grinned, and shook his head.
“This way,” Jak said, and the group followed him toward the gateway bridge.
When they came to the first set of guards, Nikolis immediately recognized one as Lirk. “Little wretches out and about again, are they?” he said. “Can’t say as I can fathom how the lot of you all got permission to leave the keep grounds.” He grinned at them and tried to ruffle Raife’s hair. The younger boy stepped around his brother, who started circling about trying to catch him.
Another guard came over when he saw the commotion and Garley grinned. “Evar, we need to get in,” said Garley. “Please, Littlefield’ll have our hides.”
Evar Dolbrand smiled as he always did, in that brilliant sort of way, so friendly, and genuine. He elbowed Lirk in the arm. “Let ‘em through, Lirk. Let ‘em through.”
Lirk rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he relented and stepped aside. The boys quickly moved over the bridge and headed toward the keep gates. The guardsmen there let them by after Evar gave a wave, and they were soon inside the keep walls.
“Alright…ah…” Jak began. After looking around for a few moments, it became clear he had no idea which was the best way to go.
Nikolis stepped ahead and looked around. He knew the castle rather well now; he should know. “Better to take the Guests’ Hallway,” he said. That’ll take us around a ways for a bit, out of sight, then Raife and Garley can go up the southern stair, and Jak and I out the back way.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Raife. “They’ll be taking Lord Casserly to the King’s chambers, no doubt, those halls will be swarming with guardsmen in red and in blue.”
Nikolis scratched beneath his ear and looked around. Garley was looking at him with worry. “Alright…uh…okay, this way.” They had no time to waste. He headed straight to his left, the others in tow, down a narrow corridor, through a few rooms, and into an adjoining hall. Then he stopped and looked around. “Okay…the west wing…yes…” The others looked at him, waiting for him to lead. One false move here could land them all in trouble, and yet somehow they were putting their trust in him.
“This way,” he said again, and they set off at a run. They went through another series of corridors. They were about to step out into the eastern hallway, when Nikolis fell back against the wall and motioned the others to stop.
He peered out. He had heard correctly. Standing in a small stone alcove were two guardsmen in red. Not greycoats, but fully armed and armored guards. No doubt they’d see a group of boys and drag them all off to the king for questioning. Nikolis shook his head and tried to think. Behind him, the other boys were leaning against the wall, breathing hard. He heard the rustle of chain and knew without looking that the guards were moving. Away from us or toward?
He chanced a look and had to whip his head back into the hallway or risk being bashed by the advancing men. Toward. He put a finger to his lips. They all held their breath. The guards moved on down the hall, they hadn’t seen them, they hadn’t heard. They all let out breath they had been holding, then Nikolis motioned to them and they followed along, moving as quietly as possible.
The group moved out into the hall and down toward the eastern tower. Nikolis kept watch, but they never overtook the two guardsmen. They must have turned off down a different hallway. Luck was on their side at the moment. They continued on, moving southeast as best as Nikolis could surmise. Finally, they reached the eastern tower, the Loyal Tower they called it. There would be guards at the tower entrance, so Nikolis let Garley and Raife off at the eastern stair. The boys smiled and nodded their silent thanks. Even Raife looked relieved as he and Garley turned and bounded up the stairwell.
“Alright,” said Nikolis, “now to the yard without a dozen guardsmen on our heels.”
Jak nodded, swallowing hard. Nikolis had never seen him quite so scared. He knew why, though. If Drennen treated Jak even half as close to how he did Nikolis, there was reason to be afraid.
“Okay,” said Nikolis. “Redboar Corridor.” They were off, down another series of twisting stone hallways. Sometimes slanting up, sometimes down. They managed to avoid several guards, and finally made their way to the practice yard entrance.
The field of green lay before them and it was blessedly devoid of guardsmen or students. Jak sighed and smiled. Nothing stood between them and the armory. The master of arms’ tower, however, was another matter. It may very well be too late for Nikolis. Master Drennen might be up in the king’s chambers as they stood there, demanding his punishment, or worse…his extrication. Would he be beaten again, or would he be cast into the lower dungeons, those rumor said were below the already darkened hallway of the storerooms? Would he be thrown out of the kingdom all together? Left to fend for himself?
Nikolis pushed Jak onward and left him off at the armory. He stood at the farthest edge of the building and peered at the small tower. There was no light coming from the master’s window. That was probably good, although the sky above was just now starting to truly darken, and he may simply have not yet lit candle or hearth. Nikolis tapped his fingers on his legs and bit at the inside of his mouth.
He made himself push off from the wall, made his legs move one after the other toward the building. The small stretch between the entrance to the armory and the base of the tower now seemed like a thousand leagues, an unimaginable distance. Will this be the last time I walk free?
The tower door loomed ahead. He reached for the handle, and then stopped, frozen. He heard the master’s voice. Where is it coming from? He closed his eyes, listened. Not from ahead – he let out a breath of air he didn’t know he had been holding – it was coming from behind him, and to his left.
Peering to the side, he saw Master Drennen approaching the tower. The older man hadn’t noticed him yet; he was looking off, toward the wooded area behind the green, and above. One last ray of sunlight had managed to break through the clouds. Perhaps that had caught his eye. Nikolis ducked and rolled to his right, just as Drennen turned to face the tower.
He heard the light gait of the approaching man and held his breath. The latch lifted, the door opened, and Drennen stepped inside. Now what? He had managed to narrowly avoid the man, but he was outside…and Drennen was likely now heading up the stairs. Did he dare chance to wait, then enter and make for his room as silently as possible?
No, even if Drennen didn’t go to the boy’s room right away, he would certainly hear his footsteps. His ears were too sharp, too practiced. What other options did he have? How else could one enter the tower? His window? It was high, but it was worth a look.
Nikolis made his way around the tower, passed the front door, and stood below the window. It was at least twenty feet off the ground. There was no way he could reach it without aid. He looked around the yard, searched for anything he could stand on or lean against the wall. Nothing. Anything that was salvageable was too short or would take too much time to drag over. Meanwhile, Drennen was now making his way to the top of the stairs, and from there would head to Nikolis’ room. The boy knew he would, he could just feel it.
He looked up at his window again, looked at the wall, to where it was joined by the roof of the armory. Perhaps if he could get on top of that, and then…but, no, the window was still too high beyond that. Then he noticed the wall. The stones jutted out in several places; the mortar had worn away in others. Perhaps he could climb it. Perhaps he could scale the wall itself, beyond that point and work his way over to the window. He had never done such a thing, but it was worth a try.
Running around to the back of the armory, he pulled himself up onto a window ledge, and then balancing on his toes, he managed to grab the roof, and pull himself up. He then ran along the thatch and over to the far side of the tower wall.
Inspecting the surface, he looked for the first likely handhold. He grabbed on and pulled himself up. His arms strained as his feet dangled an inch or so off the ground. He swung them up slightly and managed to find a foothold for one. Resting his full weight on that one leg made it sore faster than he would have thought, and it made his muscles spasm under the pressure. Taking a deep breath, he reached for another handhold, this one a small misshapen stone that stuck out at an odd angle. He managed to catch it and pulled himself up.
There was another foothold after that, and he managed to find more places to grab onto. He was doing it; he was making progress. After not too long, the window loomed only a few feet above him, and to the right. Slowly, he began inching along horizontally, lining himself up with the window. When he was there, he grinned and reached for another stone. As he went to move his feet again, they slipped out from under him.
He grabbed for the wall with his free hand, sought any hold he could get. His nails dragged against the stone, chipped at mortar, and shifted. He managed to grab hold, managed to stay up. His other hand now held a small spot between two stones, but his nails were bleeding around the edges. It hurt, but he managed to grit his teeth and ignore it. He found purchase for his feet and pushed himself up.
A few more feet, that’s it. He grabbed onto the edge of the window above, pulled himself up, and looked inside.
The room looked normal. Nothing was out of place. No one was there. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he noticed the latch was lifting; the door was pushing inward. His eyes went wide – he pulled himself up, straining, pushing, every muscle in his body aching from the exertion.
Nikolis swung over the window edge and landed on the floor. He ru
shed over to his bed, and crashed down, just as Drennen was entering the room. He was breathing hard, but he tried to force himself to take slow, shallow breaths. The fingers of his left hand were now dripping blood. He covered them with his right, and sat, staring down, not meeting Master Drennen’s gaze.
Drennen stopped a few feet before the bed. He took a deep breath and folded his arms. "Nikolis,” he said. “We need to talk.”
It was too late. He knew.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It wasn’t what he had thought. He couldn’t possibly have imagined what the master of arms was going to say next. He had sat down on his bed expecting the worst, Drennen hovering over him, pulling at his thin mustache.
“The King has called upon you for a service,” Master Drennen said. Nikolis exhaled a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. What?
Drennen eyed him and then went on. “As you may have heard, Lord Regent of the South, Robert Casserly, has finally made his way from Seaport to visit his leigelord. There will be a welcome feast tonight in the Great Hall. Many will be in attendance, the King and Lord Casserly included.”
Nikolis sat patiently, waiting to learn how any of this involved him. He tried his best not to fidget, but he couldn’t help but move his toes back and forth inside his shoes. He hoped Drennen didn’t notice.
“As it were,” the master went on, “the King would like to make a show of his power, as any good king does. Casserly has certainly already made his show. The king will require every possible guard to be in attendance.
“He asked me what students of mine I would recommend be at the feast. Those that possess not only skill, but wit.” Drennen looked down his nose at Nikolis. “Despite my reluctance, you were the first I thought of. You are to attend the feast. Your orders are to keep an especial eye on Lord Casserly, as only a child could. We wouldn’t want the Lord Regent running into any…disagreeable circumstances.”
Nikolis let out a long breath – he couldn’t believe it. That he would be entrust for such a task, and inside the keep.
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