“Focus, squire,” he jolted, eyes flying open. He hadn’t heard the Ranger approach through the turmoil. The Ranger pushed a brush into his hands. “I’ll get the saddle. Just get the horse ready. We don’t have time to waste if they really are being dumb enough to go get Giltor.”
Will started brushing down the big blue roan and had just finished when the Ranger returned, throwing the blanket and saddle over the horse’s broad back. He handed Will the bridle and left again, slipping between people and horses with ease on his way to Airagon. Will shook himself, struggling to stay on his current task. Talloe lowered his head to take the bit without argument as Will slid the bridle onto his face before leading him into the courtyard.
The sun was starting to sink, the short day-light sending long shadows across the courtyard from the barn. The King, near the doors, moved to meet Will. The squire held the horse steady as the King swung into the saddle with a nod of thanks before riding toward a blurry-eyed Sir Ross, seated on his paint stallion, a helmet under each arm.
“This is a death sentence for all of us,” Will wondered if he would ever get used to the Ranger’s appearances.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes still trained on the King, who had slid on one of the helmets. He was waving an arm to his men to start across the bridge as others mounted up.
“Use your head, boy,” the Ranger growled. “Think about what you have guessed of the tunnels, think about what we don’t know…we don’t know where that other tunnel is yet. But if it leads into the castle…” the Ranger drifted into quiet as Sir Don rode past, pushing his visor over his eyes. “Keep saddling horses,” the Ranger snapped suddenly. “The faster they leave the faster we can count on their return.”
Will obeyed and moved back into the barn.
***
The bridge was raised as the last riders cantered across, swords drawn, heads high. Will’s heart felt heavy as he looked around the now deserted courtyard. The other squires looked as lost as he felt. Sir Miller and Sir Laster were both grim-faced, standing in the doorway to the castle.
“Squires, inside, all of you,” Laster barked. Will waited at the barn entrance for Colin and Rowan. They gave Will matching expressions of confusion and exhaustion. The adrenaline of preparing the knights and soldiers for battle had carried them this far but now the castle was truly empty; a stone fortress defending only the few ordered to stay behind. The three of them slipped to the back of the group of squires that Miller was leading into the dining hall. The Ranger had vanished after speaking with Will, leaving his sluggish brain mulling over what he had said. The thoughts that it conjured up weren’t pleasant.
The castle, no matter how he considered it, was under-armed. The Ranger was right, the tunnel hadn’t been found. Will sank onto a bench in the hall without even noticing that they had reached the long tables. He moved automatically to put food on his plate and then stared at it, unseeing. The Ranger had known this would happen. The Ranger knew that this was a trap from when Sir Dannix’s body had been found. It couldn’t be the tunnels, though. It couldn’t be…
“Where is Airagon?” Sir Miller suddenly demanded. Will sat up straight, looking up and down the line of squires. Airagon’s freckled face wasn’t there. His heart started to slam against his chest.
Haru stood. “I can go out to the barn; he may still be treating that grey.”
“No, stay here,” Miller barked, hand on the hilt of his sword. “I’ll check,” he moved from the hall and everyone sank into quiet, their eyes on the door he had just left through. Minutes later, they heard raised voices in the hallway beyond the door. Sir Laster, standing at the end of the table, drew his sword, striding for the entrance. Before he could reach it, Sir Miller returned, his face flushed, his hands balled into fists. The Ranger, beside him, moved deliberately into the dining hall as Miller turned on him.
“Why didn’t you stop him? Why!” he was shaking, his black curls falling over his eyes. He pushed them aside, clearly livid.
The Ranger leaned on the wall, coolly surveying the young knight. “Why would I?”
“He’s a squire, Ranger! A squire!” Miller was yelling. Laster moved toward them, sheathing his sword as he did so.
“What’s going on?” he barked. “Where’s Airagon?”
Miller threw his hands in the air in disgust, turning away from the Ranger. “Ask him!”
Laster spun on the Ranger. “What did you do?”
The Ranger straightened, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “I did what needed done, Laster.”
“Enlighten me,” snarled Laster.
Will and the other squires held their collective breath, no one daring to move.
“I sent him away, on my horse,” the Ranger’s voice was a tight hiss.
“You did what?” Laster’s voice shook as he fought for control.
“I said I sent him away,” the Ranger stepped closer to the angry knight. “I sent him after Earl Kenta.”
“He’s a squire!” Laster burst, hand leaping back to his sword hilt.
The Ranger turned, walking away, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. “You can be as mad at me as you’d like, Laster. If I’m not mistaken, which I am afraid I am not, we won’t make it long tonight without the Earl’s men,” he turned to face Laster, several strides out of striking distance. “Save your sword; the tunnels will open again tonight and, this time, we are not strong enough to stop it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The Ranger and Sir Laster left the hall, Sir Miller staying to guard the squires and ensure that none of them tried to leave. Will wasn’t sure where he would go. The Ranger’s words, the images in his head of the ground splitting open to pour Tunnel People and Thornten soldiers alike into their midst… he stared at his hands and tried to ignore the throbbing in his temples.
“So…if the King knew the Ranger’s theory…why’d he leave us? I know Laster is looking to see how many soldiers we have, but we know it’s not enough?” Novin finally asked, looking toward Sir Miller.
Miller shook his head, running a hand along the dark stubble starting to shadow his jaw. “The King and the Ranger have been fighting this theory for some time, it’s why we haven’t struck at Thornten, even though they keep goading us,” he looked at the attentive group, shaking his head. “The King was put in a bad place where he had to pick one of two evils after Giltor made the request for help. Either let all of the Shadow Dale men die while we defend a castle with a diminishing number of allies or…” his voice faded.
“Or take the chance that the idea the Ranger had might be true,” Robin finished, stretching his long legs out in front of the bench. “I guess that theories don’t compare as well to corpses.”
“No, I guess they don’t,” Sir Miller agreed.
Everyone straightened as the Ranger and Sir Laster returned to the chamber. Laster wore a disgusted sneer and the Ranger’s lips, just visible beneath the hood, were drawn in a thin line. “Seventy-three men, that’s how many we were left with to defend the bloody castle!” Laster snarled, kicking an empty bench as he passed it. The bench fell and struck the stone floor with a deafening cracking noise. “That includes you and me, Miller, and the damn Ranger!” Laster’s eyes flashed.
“Does that include us?” Rowan asked, sitting up straighter.
Laster gave him a withering look. “I said men, didn’t I, squire?”
“Robin and I are nearly knights!” Haru protested, standing, as Rowan crossed his arms with a disgruntled huff.
Laster strode to Haru until they were inches apart, glowering down at the younger man. Haru’s broad build visibly tensed as if expecting to be struck. “You might be the age to become a knight but you aren’t a knight yet. Until you are, you best not compare yourself to one.”
“Laster,” Miller growled. “This isn’t helping anything. We have a handful of soldiers and a few squires, like it or not this is how we may have to defend the castle.”
Laster turned on the R
anger, striding away from Haru. “How do we even know your theories are right?”
The Ranger laughed darkly. “Laster, it is my job to be right. I have my sources.”
“Your bloodlines certainly do give you the advantage of internal sources, if nothing else,” Laster hissed. “So where is this tunnel in the castle that you think they will come through? That’s where we should be stationing our men.”
“I’ve told you,” the Ranger’s voice was dropping to a dangerous growl. “I don’t know yet. The ground floors would be our best bet, but there are passageways in the walls of these castles that the King doesn’t even know about.”
“So, you’re saying it could be anywhere!” Laster threw his hands in the air, pacing away from the group. “We don’t have the luxury of men to guard the entire castle, every room, every inch of the courtyard and the barracks!” he spun round to face them again. “Or do you have some solution for that which you have decided to withhold for your dramatic effect, as per usual?”
“My withholdings are because what I do for the King is not your business,” the Ranger snapped.
Will chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to make his sluggish mind work. It was as though an urgent thought was just out of the reach of his exhausted brain, something that he should have remembered long before. Something that was important now…
The thought struck and he stood, all eyes pivoting from the Ranger to him. “Ranger,” Will addressed the hooded man. “You said they would most likely strike from the ground up, because of the tunnel layouts, right?”
“Yes,” the Ranger’s head tilted slightly. “What is it?”
“So, in the dungeons…is Vonnic still down there?”
The two knights fell silent as the Ranger turned to look at them. “Laster?” the Ranger said finally.
Sir Laster nodded, drawing his sword and striding from the room. Sir Miller made to follow but the Ranger shook his head. “Miller, no.”
“What? Why not? He will need help down there!” Miller demanded.
The Ranger shook his head again. “If he can keep the dungeon closed, that will help, and that’s only one theory. That’s a start for sure but there could be more than one entrance or that might not even be one,” the Ranger started toward the doors. “I am getting soldiers to guard with us. You and the squires need to rest, it’ll be a long night,” he paused in the doorway, not turning round. “Also, I don’t give a damn about the tradition that squires learn to fight with daggers in the safety of Alamore. There is no safety right now, get the boys some swords,” and, with that, he swept from the room with the shadow of his dark cloak slipping from sight.
***
The squires and Miller sat in the dining hall on cots they had brought from the squire chamber. Will looked at the weapon lying next to him, uneasy and nervous. The sword was shorter than the weapons knights carried, more fit to his size like the practice weapons they’d worked with for months. Unlike his practice sword, the edge of the blade shone sharp, sleek, steel forged to kill rather than teach.
He glanced at the cots around him where his fellow squires were sitting or lying down, each struggling to rest. Sir Miller sat on the edge of one of the tables, his eyes reflecting the fading firelight of the hearth. Somehow, in the near darkness, it was more obvious that Airagon wasn’t with them. He thought about Airagon, riding the unfamiliar black mare, pleading with Kenta to return. Had he even reached Finnwick by now? Or the Finnwick riders? They would be moving far slower than a single rider could. He shivered, picturing Airagon riding back, alone. The Earl had to send help.
“Will, go to sleep,” Miller ordered quietly. “Or at least try to.”
Will nodded mutely, lying down on his back, his hand drifting to the hilt of the weapon beside him. His eyelids were heavy but now he worried that falling asleep would bring more dead people to mind, more knights that had fallen or were falling as they lay in the castle. He pictured Sir Ross lying in the snow, a sword plunged through his chest, Sir Rockwood trapped and struggling to get out from beneath his chestnut horse. The King slumped across Talloe’s neck as the roan swam through the dead and dying…
Now, Will was on the ground, blood dripping down his face, the snow turning red. Marl was kicking him in the legs, laughing coldly, raising the sword with the blue stone in the hilt…Sir Ross’s sword. “You deserve to see them die!”
***
He jolted awake, cold sweat beading down his forehead. His eyes strained to make out anything of the dark ceiling looming over him as he tried to remember where he was, what was happening.
“Ranger, if you’re wrong…” Will’s body stiffened and he held his breath, trying to catch Sir Miller’s low whisper.
“Miller, you don’t think I am wrong,” the Ranger hissed.
Will slowly turned his head to see the two men seated at one of the tables, a dying candle between them. Sir Miller sighed, running his fingers through his hair and resting his forehead in his hands. “How long can we hold out if they attack?”
“Depends when they strike,” the Ranger, his back to Will, rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“The King is going to be livid if we touch the crypt,” Miller said, sitting upright with a grimace.
The Ranger laughed quietly. “I would rather the King forgive me than bury me,”
Miller nodded slowly. “Very well. Just us then?”
“No,” the Ranger glanced at the squires and Will quickly closed his eyes. “Haru and Robin, they’re the oldest?”
“Yes,” Miller said slowly. “But they’re squires.”
The Ranger stood. “We don’t have options, Miller. If we tell Laster, you know how this will end, and every soldier in this castle will report to him.”
Will moved cautiously to look to his left, trying to make out the forms of Robin and Haru in the darkness. He saw the reflection of the fire in Rowan’s eyes and Rowan moved slowly, pressing a finger to his lips. Will didn’t need the warning. His ears strained to hear as Miller’s soft murmur woke the two oldest squires.
Will squeezed his eyes closed as he heard footsteps around him. What was going on? Where was the Ranger taking Miller, Haru, and Robin? And why weren’t they telling Sir Laster? The footsteps drew nearer then passed, the whisper of unintelligible words drifting then fading to silence.
“What the blazes,” Rowan whispered, sitting up, “was that about?”
Will sat up slowly as well, looking around the dim room. His fellow squires were sound asleep except for the two empty cots, blankets thrown aside, barely visible. “Colin, wake up!” he turned to see Rowan shaking their friend.
Colin, yawning, pushed Rowan’s hand away and sat up, running a hand over his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“The Ranger,” Will whispered. He pushed aside his blankets, automatically reaching for his belt and boots. “He just took Miller, Haru, and Robin somewhere,” he hesitated. The sword’s unfamiliar weight on his belt felt like a reminder that they were no longer training. The danger was real and it was unpredictable. “I bet there’s another entrance,” he lowered the belt.
Rowan, already sliding into his boots, stopped. “Aren’t you going to get ready?”
Will shook his head, setting his jaw. “No, we shouldn’t go.”
“Will, if there’s another tunnel, it’s only those four and us that know about it!” Rowan hissed. “If they get attacked, if they get killed, then we are all done for.”
“We’re first-year squires!” Colin said, sitting upright. “We are going to be more in the way than anything.”
“But he didn’t tell Laster!” Rowan stood; his face determined in the pale light. “I’m going, with or without you. If I’m not back soon, you can tell Laster, and maybe he’ll send soldiers.”
Colin growled and stood up, reaching for his belt. “You honestly think we’d let you go? Alone?”
Will glanced around the chamber again, at his fellow squires, fast asleep and unguarded. He shook his head and fastened
the sword belt to his waist, sliding on each boot. “We don’t even know where they went,” he muttered.
“They said something about a crypt,” Rowan whispered.
The three wove between the rest of the sleeping squires and toward the side of the chamber lined in doors. Colin stopped and the other two turned to him, struggling to make out more than his form. “I think I know,” he whispered at last, “where they’re going.”
“Where?” Rowan and Will hissed together.
Colin turned, silently opening one of the doors and leading them into the dark hallway beyond. He closed it, plunging them into darkness. Will reached a hand out, touching the wall. “Are there brackets in here?”
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 33