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House of Fear and Freedom (The Wyrd Sequence Book 1)

Page 6

by Kimberley J. Ward


  His ripped sleeves slid down his arms, revealing muscles and fading bruises, and a strange feeling settled over Nessa as she observed him, one she couldn’t identify, but which brought a blush to her cheeks and made her heart flutter just a little. He had found her, had come back for her. That meant an awful lot to Nessa. She looked away, and to settle her thoughts, began to retie her makeshift backpack.

  By the time Nessa had tucked the orb away and had the backpack strapped in place, Hunter had almost reached the top, and she realised that there was no space for him on the beam. So, very slowly, she shimmied backwards, creating a small gap for him to swing on to.

  His head of curly hair bobbed beside her as he reached the end of his assent, and then his hand reached out, grabbing at the weathered wood. With such ease that Nessa felt a touch of envy, Hunter pulled himself up, straddling the beam and facing her, a mischievous grin twitching his lips.

  “There,” he said. “That’s better. Now I can finally put a face to the name.”

  “Indeed.”

  His smile grew and he gazed up at the broken tiles. A thin shaft of sunlight hit his upturned face, and while he was preoccupied, Nessa took the opportunity to look at him from beneath her lashes, noticing that he appeared to be only a few years older than her. She also realised that what she had first assumed was a large belt was, in fact, a length of rope coiled around his waist, in which two items were tucked. Nessa’s eyes widened. Hunter was armed with a small dagger and a short sword.

  “So, I presume that the next step of your escape was to go through the roof?”

  Nessa dragged her gaze up from the weapons and found Hunter looking at her questioningly. Words lodged in her throat, so she simply nodded.

  “And then what?”

  Nessa cleared her throat. “I haven’t planned that far ahead yet.”

  “Huh. Improvisation.” Hunter nodded happily. “I like it.”

  With catlike agility, he leapt up onto the beam, standing tall, the top of his head brushing against the sharp slope of the roof. He pulled his tattered sleeve over his hand and, before Nessa realised what he was about to do, curled his hand into a fist and punched hard at the edge of a hole.

  Tiles cracked and shattered, raining down in a shower of broken slate as Hunter’s fist slammed against them over and over again. Nessa winced at each blow, at the sheer determination on Hunter’s face. The hole grew into a sizable opening, and with a few deft tugs, Hunter pulled free a few loose tiles.

  “There,” he said, looking down at her, his smile growing. “Part two of escaping can now commence.”

  Nessa stared at him, utterly gobsmacked. “Didn’t that hurt?” she croaked, nodding to his hand. “Because it looked like it would hurt. You know, punching something like that.”

  He unwrapped his hand and held it out to her, showing Nessa that, other than a bit of redness across the knuckles, he was otherwise unhurt. “Tough as an ox, I am.”

  “Good to know,” Nessa murmured.

  Hunter offered her his hand and she took it, using it as a much needed aid as she slowly rose to her feet. The beam was fairly wide, nearly a foot thick, offering plenty of foot space. When she was standing however, it felt like it was a tight rope, narrow and unsteady. A wave of vertigo crashed over Nessa, making her dizzy and her knees weak. She gripped Hunter’s hand with bone crushing force until the light-headedness passed.

  When she tentatively opened her eyes, she found Hunter staring at her with a measure of concern. His hand tightened on hers for a moment, reassuringly, and Nessa felt a little bit of courage grow.

  “You alright?” Hunter asked.

  “Oh, I’m just great,” Nessa said dryly.

  “Not scared of heights then?”

  “Not in the slightest,” she lied.

  “Good, because you really don’t want to be scared of heights when you’re standing thirty feet above the ground, now would you?”

  Nessa glared. “If we weren’t standing thirty feet above the ground, I would punch you.”

  Hunter chuckled. “It’s a good thing we are then.” He released Nessa’s hand and nodded at the hole above their heads. “You first or me?”

  Nessa looked up at the steep slant of the roof, and at the joists and battening that were covered with signs of woodworm. She wasn’t particularly sure they would be able to support much more weight. Besides, if anyone were to fall off the roof it would be her. If Hunter went out first, Nessa reasoned, at least she would be able to see how the joists faired under his weight first, and he would be able to steady her once she got up there too.

  She smiled, liking that idea.

  “You,” said Nessa. “Please.”

  Hunter smirked, as if he could read her thought process, then reached up, grabbing the edge of the hole. Without much effort he pulled himself out, and Nessa could hear him shifting around on the tiles above, getting into position.

  She stood as still as a statue, fearing that if she was to move even the slightest bit, then she would plummet to the floor below.

  Hunter popped his head through the hole, arms reaching down. “Give me your hands. I’ll pull you up.”

  Careful not to lose her balance, Nessa did as she was ordered, hating how her hands shook, displaying her fear for him to see. With a strong grip around each other’s wrists, Hunter hauled her up through the hole, her feet scrabbling for purchase as soon as she was clear of it. Her boots’ leather soles gripped the tiles securely, and she swiftly settled herself down beside Hunter.

  Up there, perched atop the spire, which in turn rested upon a high rocky outcrop, the world was spread out before Nessa, seen from a bird’s eye view.

  Fading light from the setting sun bathed the heavens in magnificent colours. Oranges and watery reds saturated the gathering clouds that blanketed the horizon, turning their undersides pink and yellow. The city was haloed in a soft glow as the sun sank behind the earth, showing the buildings in a mystical light. Nessa searched for the river, but it was out of sight. She presumed that she was on the other side of the prison.

  Hunter shifted. “So, any ideas from here?”

  “I hadn’t thought of a way down,” Nessa confessed. “In all honesty, I didn’t actually think I would get this far.”

  “Well, considering the ground is a good sixty foot below us, I reckon we can rule out jumping.”

  “I think that’s a wise decision.”

  “So we need to find a shorter distance between us and the ground, and then use my rope to climb down.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable course of action.”

  “Glad you agree.”

  Nessa quickly checked that her makeshift backpack was firmly in place, ensuring that the knots were tight, and then indicated that she was ready.

  “Stay close,” Hunter said, “and try to be as quiet as possible.”

  Nessa briefly wondered why they needed to be quiet when the bell still rang clear and loud, a near continuous dong that made the earth rattle and shake, but kept her mouth shut. What the hell did she know about escaping from a fortified prison? Nothing. Hunter, on the other hand, seemed to be pretty damn sure of himself, like he had done this before.

  Ever so slowly, they shuffled around the spire’s roof, making sure that they wouldn’t slip before moving an inch. Nessa was, not for the first time, grateful that she was wearing sensible clothing. If the tunic had been much longer or a dress, then she was sure that she wouldn’t have got far.

  On the other side of the roof, Hunter seemed to find what he had been searching for. Spread out before them was a castle. A keen, contemplative look settled on his face and he stilled, watching, planning. Nessa stared, disbelieving of what she was seeing.

  A dominating square building stood in front of her, a hundred feet high and built from dark stone that glinted malevolently. Thin, slitted windows shone with yellow torch light, and shadows moved within. Perched on each corner, and crowning the top were tall turrets which reached towards the sky like desperate
fingers. Surrounding the imposing fortress was a thick wall of protection, made from a mixture of adjoining buildings, towers and spires. It was there that Nessa and Hunter found themselves momentarily trapped.

  Between them and the castle was a courtyard, filled with numerous figures running to-and-fro. Some carried blazing torches whilst others bore swords.

  “It’s a hive of activity down there,” Nessa murmured, voicing her worry.

  “It most certainly is,” Hunter said with an alarming amount of excitement. “But that might work to our advantage.”

  “I don’t like the sound of ‘might.’ I would prefer something a lot more definite.”

  Hunter thought about it for a second. “It will most probably work to our advantage?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Was that better?”

  “Almost, but not quite.”

  “Pity.” He tugged at the rope, untying it from his waist. “If we get out of here alive, I’ll be sure to work on being more definite.” Then, almost too quiet for Nessa to hear, he muttered, “I really hate this place.”

  Nessa frowned. “Have you been here before?”

  His amber eyes went stark. “Unfortunately yes, I have.”

  “And where exactly,” Nessa asked, “is here?”

  “Welcome to Ironguard, home to the demented, the damned and the ignorant.”

  The sun sank beneath the horizon, turning the sky midnight blue before true night settled upon Ironguard. With the arrival of darkness, Nessa found herself hanging perilously from a rope, abseiling slowly down the side of the spire’s wall. The roof of the adjoining building was somewhere beneath her, but she couldn’t see where. The feeling of nothing under her feet was the worst, unnerving and terrifying, and the rope she clambered down felt far too thin. Nessa wound her legs around it for extra grip, and continued to work her way down, all the while thinking that when she got home, she’d be a frequent visitor to a gym.

  Hunter was stationed on the spire’s roof, steadying the rope as much as he could. When Nessa perceived something large in the dimness just a short distance below her, the rope jerked alarmingly, swinging wildly as Hunter began following her down. Nessa barely stifled a shriek.

  Blessed solidness came beneath her feet, and she swiftly untangled herself, springing away from the rope like a cat in water. The slope of the roof was considerably less than that of the spire’s, and Nessa found it easy to stand without the threat of slipping. As she waited for Hunter, she shook out her aching arms and brought up her hands, blowing on the rope burns that streaked across her palms, soothing the sting a little.

  Nessa looked up and saw that the sky was devoid of stars. The moon peeked around from behind the castle, its pale light catching the front of a mighty cloud that was swiftly devouring the night. A chilled breeze tugged at the hem of Nessa’s top and at the loose strands of hair around her face.

  A storm was blowing in. A big one.

  Hunter jumped and landed beside Nessa with a thump and a muffled curse. She flinched at the noise and didn’t have time to wonder what was happening before he grabbed her wrist, yanked her over to the other side of the roof, and pushed her against the base of the neighbouring tower. His body covered hers, trapping her between him and the tower’s wall, and his hand clamped over her mouth, smothering her cry of outrage.

  Nessa squirmed, alarmed, and Hunter’s grip tightened in response.

  “Shhh,” he hissed.

  With his free hand, Hunter pointed to above them, where Nessa could now hear the sound of studded boots stomping around. A ring of burning light shone down from the tower’s battlements, narrowly missing them but brightening the rest of the roof.

  “I’m telling you,” a gruff voice growled. “I heard something down there.”

  They had been found.

  Nessa froze, muscles tensing in panic.

  “Wait,” Hunter breathed into her ear.

  “Nonsense,” a second said. “How in the Nine Devils would you be able to hear anything over that bloody bell? Bollocks, I say. You’re as deaf as a post most of the time. Besides, what would they be doing on the roofs? There’s no way for them to get to the city, at least not without a fatal fall first. Anyway, the commander said that the door had been busted down. They’re scurrying around the castle grounds somewhere, just like rats.”

  The light was withdrawn with a grumbled, “Don’t like rats,” and the sound of the footsteps faded away.

  They remained undetected for the time being.

  Nessa slapped Hunter’s hand from her mouth. “That was far too close for comfort.”

  Hunter gave a low chuckle, taking a slow step back. “Perhaps, but now we know that they don’t suspect what we’re doing yet. Good escape plan. Very good.” Nessa sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore her burning cheeks as he crossed over to the dangling rope, pulling at it. With a sharp flick of his arm, the rope cracked like a whip and fell to his feet, dislodged from where it had been looped over the spire’s point.

  “What now?” Nessa asked, coming up behind him.

  “Now? Now I’m going to lower you to the ground and then jump down.”

  Nessa peered over the side of the roof, trying to judge how much of a drop it was. The darkness made it hard, but she guessed that they were about first floor height. “Won’t you hurt yourself jumping that far?”

  “Nonsense, it’s all in the technique. I’ll be fine. I’ve jumped further distances before and haven’t been too badly hurt.”

  Nessa was not impressed. “Too badly?”

  “Stop worrying,” Hunter said, placing the end of the rope in her hands. “Hold on tight, and don’t wander off when you get down there.”

  “I’m seventeen, not seven. I do know not to walk off into the midst of people armed with swords who are searching for me.”

  “If you say so.”

  With that, Nessa clutched the rope firmly and allowed Hunter to help her over the edge of the roof. He lowered the rope slowly, and all Nessa had to do was hold on and steady herself against the wall with a foot.

  Once she was on the ground, she gave the rope a small tug to let Hunter know.

  Feeling rather exposed, Nessa crouched down, back against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible. Hunter timed his jump perfectly with a dong of the bell so that it drowned out the sound of his landing. One second she was alone, and the next Hunter was beside her, nearly scaring Nessa out of her skin. Silently he knelt down, and together they surveyed the courtyard.

  Spread out before them, it looked even larger and more daunting than it had from above. The wide expanse of it was filled with burning torches and large groups of armed soldiers, their chainmail glinting in the firelight.

  A ring of shadows clung to the outer wall of buildings, where Nessa and Hunter hid. To their right, the courtyard curled around the castle, and to their left, a long building stretched between it and the outer wall, connecting them and cutting the yard in two. In the centre of it was a large, open gateway, and beyond it a similar scene could be observed.

  Hunter handed something to Nessa, and her fingers automatically closed around it. Whatever it was had some weight to it, and quizzical, she gazed down at her hand, discovering that she held the dagger that Hunter had so far been carrying.

  “You might be needing that,” he whispered.

  “Might I?” Nessa hissed. “It’s a dagger. I don’t know what to do with a dagger. I’ve never even held one before.”

  “Well,” Hunter said slowly, “it’s quite simple really. If anyone other than me comes near you,” he flicked the tip of the blade, “then use the pointy end.”

  Nessa swallowed, nervous and a little sick at his words. He wasn’t joking, not even in the slightest. The place was filled with enemies, and if it came to it, Nessa would have to fight her way out, would have to use the ‘pointy end’ if need be.

  “Follow me,” the softly spoken words floated in the air.

  They set off, moving at a painfully slow pace, keeping tigh
t to the wall, hiding in the shadows. They crawled on hands and knees, making themselves as small as possible to avoid detection. Twice they were forced to stop as small groups of soldiers marched frightfully close to them, and once when a troop of cavalry cantered past.

  But at a snail’s pace, they continued on, creeping ever closer to the gateway.

  ∞∞∞

  They huddled in the corner, the gateway a stone’s throw away. Light poured through it, chasing away the shadows that Nessa and Hunter had so far been using as a cover. The darkened corner was their last refuge.

  “Stay here,” Hunter whispered in Nessa’s ear. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Nessa nodded as he stood, and pressed herself into the corner until the wall was firm against her back. In silence, she watched as Hunter slowly approached the threshold between the light and the shadows. In his hand was the short sword, tucked in close to his side. With sharp eyes he scanned the courtyard, and then darted from the gloom, disappearing around the corner of the gateway.

  Nessa almost went to follow him, desperate not to be left alone, worried that they might become separated or that one of them would get caught. She stopped herself though, just. Long, tense minutes passed with no sign of Hunter. Nessa watched the gateway, the courtyard. Her heartbeat sped up and her hands grew clammy, making it hard for her to hold the dagger. She felt vulnerable there by herself, open and weak.

  Hunter rounded the corner and Nessa had never felt such relief as she did just then. He rushed over to her, eyes trained on the courtyard and the soldiers, and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and tugging her after him as he raced back to the gateway. They turned the corner and Nessa was yanked sharply to the left. A door closed behind her, and she found herself in a long, narrow room filled to the brim with things.

  Nessa turned questioningly to Hunter, and paused. His hands fumbled at the door’s lock, his fingers lightly holding two metal skewers that he had inserted into the keyhole.

  “What are you doing?” Nessa asked, bewildered.

 

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