“Will, have you any experience with cattle?” Rockwood asked, passing him a heavy rope halter. Will nodded, thinking of the brown cow that his parents had kept for some time. The animal had been traded off when his father decided he needed the room for his horse and that they could sacrifice the additional food.
“Great. I don’t trust Rowan to not get kicked. Go ahead and milk these, this one here,” he patted the nearest black and white cow. “Is the best behaved. Rowan, there are a few chickens in the last stall across the way. Get as many eggs collected as you can find,” ordered Rockwood.
Will took the halter and listened to the retreating footfalls of the other two until it was impossible to hear over the raging storm. The cow shifted nervously as he slid her halter on and gently pulled her head into the stanchion. The calf nibbled on his tunic hem as he unhooked a bucket from the gate and crouched next to the cow. It was a familiar movement, familiar smells too as he worked and tried to focus on his task instead of how quickly Colin’s health had failed. It made no sense. He should have noticed sooner, said something, brought it up when they were getting ready to leave the castle. He’d heard of people dying from far less severe symptoms. He should have known.
The calf licked the side of his face with its rough tongue, forcing him to smile and gently push it aside. “I see you,” he whispered. “But you have to wait, little lady.”
When he was done, he scratched the calf behind the ears and opened the gate. A crash of thunder made him flinch. Shaking himself, he walked over to where Colin and Ross waited. Ross’s face was drawn and he stared at his squire silently. “Sir, is he going to be okay?”
Ross turned to him, wearily. “Honestly, Will, I don’t know,” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “He most likely had a fever before now and this shock of cold has pushed it over the edge. He had a bit of a cough yesterday but I didn’t think of…or to check…” he drifted off and turned his attention to Will.
“Hand me that bucket, Will. Go find if Rowan’s got any eggs collected. We need to get Colin fed and this storm means we can’t get to the castle kitchens.” Will nodded and turned to find Rowan.
He located him quickly and both returned to Ross, handing him the bucket of eggs that Rowan had carried back. Ross took the bucket without a word and gestured for them to leave. They did reluctantly, finding Rockwood collecting more straw bales. “Grab a couple each, lads, and let’s get settled. It’s early but you both need to rest anyway to avoid getting sick.”
They worked in complete silence, each lost in their thoughts until they laid down and forced themselves to uneasy sleep as the storm continued, unrelenting.
A heavy weight on his legs woke Will. Half asleep, he shifted to break free before opening his eyes and sitting up, groggily. The storm was still raging outside and the only light was that of the low burning fire. A figure was seated at the end of his bed, face turned toward Colin’s motionless form.
“Rowan, what are you doing other than crushing my feet?”
“I can’t get to sleep. I just don’t feel tired and I thought I’d check on Colin.”
“Oh, then why are you smashing my feet? Never mind answering that,” Will grumbled, looking at Colin’s sleeping form. “Come on, let’s go check on the horses.”
“Okay, lead the way,” whispered Rowan getting to his feet. Will pulled on his boots and stood. His whole body, now used to the comfort of his bed, was stiff from sleeping on the floor. He started for the stalls, Rowan following. They saw the chestnut stallion in the nearest stall, standing with his eyes closed and his lower lip drooping as he slept.
“Rowan, what is that horse’s name? I’ve never seen it.”
“Nor have I, and I have no clue what his name is,” whispered Rowan looking at the horse with dawning realization. “Oh, it’s Colin’s horse. And Colin hasn’t named him. That’s why we had to come down in the first place, to try out our new horses.”
A jolt went through Will’s stomach. Had it been just that morning that Rowan had been holding that secret? He and Colin had wondered but followed blindly for what should have been the best surprise. They had horses waiting…they had horses. “Rowan…” he let his voice drift, guiltily swallowing his rising excitement. “we probably can find the horses for us.”
Rowan’s eyes widened in the darkness. “I hadn’t thought about that! Let’s do it!”
They started down the rows, peeking in each stall and straining their eyes to see. At one stall a large blue roan pressed himself against the door, his neck and head in the alleyway of the barn, and stared down at Will with a superior gaze. Will could feel that this horse, dark coat over rippling muscles, was a full war animal. It gave the impression of power without having to bare its teeth or even pin its ears.
“Whoa, Rowan, whose horse is this?” Will whispered. He didn’t dare reach out to brush the animal’s face with his hand.
“That’s the King’s horse. He’s a brute but he’s also the fastest and best warhorse. Still, doesn’t mean I trust him,” announced Rowan, eyeing the roan suspiciously. “His name is Talloe,” The horse turned his head away from Will, staring at Rowan at the sound of his own name.
It was as though the horse was warning them, displeased with their wandering the barn. Suddenly uncomfortable, Will turned to Rowan. “Do you want to get some sleep?”
“Sure, I think that would do me good now,” said Rowan as he stifled a yawn. The two of them hurried back to their straw beds and laid back down.
Will tried to force himself to sleep but suddenly was wide awake. He had a warhorse, a real warhorse. Somewhere in the barn was an animal to take him into battles and a gleaming chestnut that Colin might never ride. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think like that. Colin would be fine. He had to be. It was a long time after Rowan’s breathing had deepened and steadied that Will finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.
***
He was riding a white horse; the horse he had envisioned the day he had met Rowan and Colin. The animal was rushing beneath him on long strides, smooth and powerful. Suddenly, something flashed blue in front of him. The horse spun sideways, off seating him and he hit the ground.
He turned to see where his horse had gone. It had vanished and, in its place was a helmeted knight. The knight laughed as he struggled to rise and it was his father’s voice coming from the helmet. “You think you can be a knight? You are a damn fool and deserve this death!” He raised his sword and then…
***
“Will you shut your big mouth and get up. William, I know you’re listening, move it or I’ll slap you in the face.”
He woke up with a start to see Rowan kicking his leg. It felt like the early hours of a new day and the rain outside had lightened, though only slightly.
“What is it? And stop kicking me,” snarled Will looking in Rowan’s frantic face in the light of a torch the other boy clutched. “Rowan what is it, and what time is it?”
“You’ll see if you get your lazy butt off the floor,” said Rowan, aiming a swift kick at Will who was ready for it and rolled aside.
“I’m getting up now, stop kicking me,” snapped Will, staggering to his feet. He was tired and just wanted to sleep. But Rowan, he knew, would continue to kick his legs, until either they broke, or Will strangled him.
“Come see what I found. It’s neat,” Rowan said as Will stood. The knights were nowhere in sight, but the form of Colin was still lying on the makeshift bed, under even more blankets. He seemed to be resting easier.
“Ow, hurry up.”
He turned, growling under his breath, and followed Rowan into the darkness.
At the end of the alleyway, Rowan shouldered open a heavy door. Uncertainly, Will ducked under the low entry after him. “Look at this,” Rowan hissed and crouched down, pointing outlines on the floor. “It’s a hatch of some sort!”
“Storage?” Will suggested.
Rowan shook his head, eyes alight. “I don’t think so. There’s always rum
ors of an underground tunnel system. It’s all legends and stuff but they say it used to stretch for miles under the castle and they blocked all of them but I think this is an old entry.”
Will ran his fingers along the edge of the stone slab. “Have you gone down yet?”
Rowan shook his head. “Not yet, I wanted to see if you want to come with me or if I am taking this on solo.” He was already prying his fingers into two larger grooves in the stone’s edge, hidden expertly along the dusty wall.
“No, I want to come,” Will said quickly. Tired he may have been, but now excitement and a sense of adventure was closing in on him. He needed something after the days of doing nothing but training and then spending a full day and night stuck in the barn.
He felt along the stone as well, finding enough purchase to help Rowan shift the block aside and reveal a dark drop.
“Oh! this is awesome,” Rowan announced, bending low with his torch to illuminate the way down. The walls seemed to be heavy stone and the floor of the tunnel, some seven feet below, well-worn red dirt.
Will had to silently agree. He hadn’t heard the legends but he was eager to learn more about the crypt. “How do we get do-” his question was answered before it was out of his mouth as Rowan unhooked a long line for lunging horses from his belt, securing it to the heavy door and dropping the other end down the passage.
“I’ll go first. Then, if it is safe you come down,” decided Rowan, handing Will the torch. He grabbed the rope before Will could say anything and slid down in a half-controlled fall. “It’s safe, go ahead and drop the torch, I’ll get out of the way.”
Will did so and waited until he saw Rowan pick it up and step aside, out of sight. “This is wicked, Will, you have got to get down here,” called Rowan as his voice trailed away. Will slipped down into the tunnel and gasped.
Old torch brackets lined the wall and Rowan was already lighting them as he moved. The ends of the tunnel moved both ways into complete blackness.
“There’s bones in here,” Rowan whispered, lowering himself down to look at the gruesome find.
Will felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, “Let’s go,” he hissed, glancing around as he pulled one of the torches loose from the wall. “Rowan, please, let’s go back up. We can show it to Ross or Rockwood.”
CHAPTER FOUR
By noon, the rain had stopped and, despite the high water and freezing winds, Sir Ross announced they were moving Colin to the infirmary. He carried the blonde boy, still asleep, while Rockwood and the two squires cleaned up the bales, their makeshift cots, then the iron bellied stove, and put away blankets. None of them spoke much, too exhausted from the uneasy sleep. When they made it back to the castle, Rockwood ordered Will and Rowan to seek treatment in case they were getting sick and then to go to bed.
“Training to be a knight is a lot less fun if you die,” he said, drowning out Rowan’s groan. “We will resume a normal schedule in a few days.”
The two did as they were told and moved through the next few days without a word about the tunnel. It wasn’t until the third day, restless and bored, that Rowan, lying on his back on his bed, brought it back up.
“Will, I’m going back down there to the bone tunnel and looking around. Do you want to come or do you want to stay?” asked Rowan.
Torn between fear and restlessness, Will didn’t answer at first. He didn’t like that Rowan had called it the bone tunnel. It reinforced the feeling of danger that the dark place brought with it. Still less, though, did he like the idea of Rowan blundering around on his own.
“Okay I’ll go,” he answered, “but I want to be armed.”
Rowan looked delighted. “That’s fair enough! You have your dagger, right?” He stood, grabbed his own dagger, and started toward the door out of the squires’ chamber. Will, more reluctantly, followed through the dinner hall, the entry hall, and across the still recovering courtyard where stable hands were trying to move the last of the dead branches to a stack out of the way.
Rowan was already in the room with the tunnel entry when Will got there, the stone pushed aside to reveal a dark opening where he could imagine one would fall forever and never escape.
“Are you going to take all day or are we going now?” asked an impatient Rowan. Will did not answer, just walked forward. He grabbed an extra torch as Rowan prepared to throw his own down the opening.
“What do you need that for?” asked Rowan.
“In case the torches down there are too burned out to light,” Will answered. He didn’t mention that the weight of the torch was the closest thing he felt he had to an adequate weapon. His dagger felt as useless as a needle for a fight.
“Oh, okay. Hurry up, will you?” Rowan hissed and lowered himself into the tunnel.
Then, wishing he was anywhere else, Will slipped into the tunnel after Rowan. Rowan had managed to light two of the torches again already which made Will uneasy. It was as though someone had restocked the kindle in each. He hefted his own torch more firmly as he lit it off of one of those bracketed to the wall.
“Rowan, we should only stay for a bit. In ca-” his last words were cut off by Rowan darting further down the tunnel, his torch raised above his head. “No, wait! You lumbering idiot!” yelled Will racing down the hall after his friend. Rowan turned, indignantly scowling at Will.
“I am not a lumbering idiot. I’m as graceful as a swan” said Rowan, spinning and leaping, one arm over his head in an arc. He tripped, knocking a torch bracket to the ground. It fell with a crash that made Will’s ears ring. “Well, maybe I am a lumbering idiot,” laughed Rowan standing shakily.
A sound behind them made Will’s heart freeze. Raising the torch, he turned. No one was there, but Will swore he heard running feet and thought something whipped out of sight, in the direction from which they had come.
“We have to get out of here, help me find another way,” whispered Will, turning to Rowan.
Rowan, brown eyes fixed where Will had seen the flash of movement, nodded slowly and shivered. The two boys bolted down the hall.
Now Will could hear the feet, louder, gaining on them. Fear clouded his mind as they took a turn and saw a door. Rowan was almost there and Will put on an extra spurt of speed to reach him, skidding to a stop on the other side as Rowan slammed it shut, leaning against it. Will threw his body against it as well, panting and shaking.
A burst of familiar laughter was muffled on the other side. “Open up, you cowardly dogs. Or I’ll knock down this door. Come on, it’s me.”
The two boys looked at each other, grinning sheepishly.
“I didn’t know they were going to release you yet,” Rowan admitted, opening the door. Colin, still pale from his illness, was gasping for breath through his laughter.
“You gave us a scare,” said Will.
Colin sank to the floor, growing even whiter as his laughter died down.
“I need to catch my breath for a bit. I’m too tired to go back and get up that rope yet,” he gasped. “How did you two even find this place?”
“Rowan found it that night we were all stranded in the barn,” Will said, flopping onto the floor beside his friend. “How did you find us?”
“Novin said he saw you two head to the barn so I followed and saw the torchlight at the end of the hall before you two must have dropped down here. This is bizarre,” Colin ran his hands back and forth over the red dirt floor. “Truly bizarre to have tunnels underneath a castle. Kind of defeats the purpose of walls, you know? If there’s an exit outward that’s not guarded?”
“Guess it does,” Rowan said. He still looked drained of color. “Can we go now?”
“I guess,” Colin grunted, slowly rising. Will followed suit, brushing the dust from his pants with his torch free hand.
Rowan stiffened suddenly, like a hound that had scented a fox. “You two hear that?”
Will froze, ears straining, and his blood ran cold again. There were voices, back the way they had come from, and they sounded wi
ld. Like the snarls of dogs, with the occasional word and, hidden in the snarls, a low chanting from someone.
“Hunt them, find them, bring them to me. They have trespassed here, they have run here, and die here, they must.”
“Run! Hide! Colin, come on!” yelled Will, grabbing one of Colin’s arms. Rowan grabbed the other and they half dragged him through the door, slamming it behind them. “We can’t hold that; we have to keep going!” Will snapped as Rowan made to lean against the door again. “There are more of them than us!” he tossed aside his torch to grip Colin more firmly and Rowan did the same, dragging him through the blackness.
Once out of sight of the flickering light, they froze, straining to hear anything.
“I think we lost them,” Rowan finally whispered.
Will opened his mouth to reply. The words didn’t have a chance to reach his lips as something struck him in the head and he crumpled. He was unconscious before he hit the dirt floor.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 6