The four squires exchanged nervous looks and Ross waited, crossing his arms, face unreadable. Finally, drawing a deep breath, Colin spoke. “The tunnel entrance; it was the King’s Crypt,” both knights let out low growls at this but neither made to speak, “the Ranger, Robin, Sir Miller, and Haru went down because they knew that, if they were wrong, the King would be furious. They didn’t want to draw a lot of attention and…” Colin’s voice drifted.
“Judging by the banner I saw as I rode in,” Ross said in a measured voice, “all of them are in the tunnel now, driving people back, with the Earl of Finnwick and his men at arms. How did he get here?”
“Airagon. As soon as you all left, the Ranger sent Airagon on his mare to get Finnwick,” Will hesitated. “And Haru isn’t with them. He’s in the Final Farewell. All the injured are.”
Rockwood swore, spinning round. “I’m getting the King. Ross, go get these four back inside.”
Ross nodded, resting a hand on Will’s and Colin’s backs, pushing them back to the double doors. “You’ve all done well,” he said in a low growl. “You’ve done far more than we would have wanted you to have to at your age.”
“Where are we going?” Colin asked, craning to look back toward the courtyard. “We need to help with horses.”
Ross laughed gruffly. “They can handle their own horses, they’re grown men. We are going to the council chambers. The King will need to know what’s been happening.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The King paced, hands behind his back, face drawn. In the round council chamber, every knight had shadowed eyes and looked as exhausted as Will felt. Throughout his, Rowan, and Colin’s retelling of the night’s events, more soldiers and knights had returned, forcing them to start over.
“We should gather the men who’ve arrived and take the Thornten forces by surprise with the tunnel as a means of attack!” Giltor said. He sat hunched forward in the chair to the left of King Revlan’s own.
The King whirled round, eyes flashing. “These are my men, Giltor, and my castle. Our intentions are clearly different as are our judgements. My focus isn’t on attacking Thornten anymore than we already have been forced to do,” he turned to Sir Ross. “How many men do we have that could, without putting others in danger, go into the crypt and help the others get back out?”
Ross raised his eyebrows and grunted; arms crossed over his chest. “I wouldn’t count anyone in but myself, King. We are all exhausted, we are all lucky to be alive. I won’t tell you how many men can dive right back into that danger. That’s not my place to say.”
The King ran his hand through his hair and Will caught the frustrated look he threw around the room. “Then what do you suggest? You’re my knight’s council, we need to have ideas.”
“We need to extract them and guard the tunnels inside,” Ross growled. “But that requires more men. What I recommend is we get the strongest soldiers and knights we have now together to go down, volunteers only. The next wave will rest. When we get them out of the tunnels, back into the castle, the second guard will be woken to go in and make sure Thornten doesn’t plan another attack,” he laughed harshly. “Even Thornten, Phersal, and Bronswick are exhausted now. We didn’t follow the plan they expected us to and it took a toll on their men.”
The King looked to the other knights, ignoring the hateful glower that Giltor had on him. “Any other suggestions? Anyone?” Will saw the knights, grim-faced and filthy, shake their heads and the King’s shoulders slumped. “Very well. I hate to ask this of any of you,” he said, wearily, “but who is willing to follow Sir Ross to the tunnels?”
For a moment no one moved. Then Will found himself climbing to his feet, Rowan and Colin doing the same on either side. “We will,” Will met the King’s tired eyes.
“Like the blazes, you will,” Ross snarled. “You three will stay here. Soldiers and knights only.”
“Ross is right,” said the King, cutting off the retort that Rowan had opened his mouth to say. “All the squires have done their duties to defend the castle here. Knights and soldiers.”
“I’m in,” Rockwood stood with a grin that turned to a wince as the bruising around his eye creased.
One by one the other knights in the room stood, as well as soldiers that Will didn’t know. Soon, only Sir Richard remained seated. He sighed, shaking his head as the King turned to him. “I am getting too old for this,” he struggled to his feet.
“Richard, your squire is in the Final Farewell. I understand that he’s been injured in the line of defense,” Ross growled. “You aren’t coming. You need to be with Haru. You’re all the family he’s got.”
Richard looked at the squires, his face draining of color. “What’s happened?”
“He took a blow to the leg,” Will explained quickly, feeling guilty that he hadn’t told the knight sooner. “When I left, he was asleep. He was the first to get care, the healer thinks he’ll be fine if,” he didn’t have a chance to finish as Richard swept from the room.
“You three go with him,” Ross ordered, waving his hand at the squires dismissively. “If you try to follow us into the crypt, you’ll learn very quickly that the tunnel people aren’t half as terrifying as I can be.”
They left, Rowan sticking his tongue out at the door as it closed behind them. He stuck out his chest, swaggering toward the door at the end of the squire chamber. “Not half as terrifying as I can be,” he mocked, spinning round to shoot a hard stare at Will and Colin.
Will snorted trying to stop himself from laughing. “You’re ridiculous, Rowan.”
“I’m exhausted, actually,” Rowan hesitated next to his bed, a longing look on his face.
“How about you two get some sleep, or try to,” Will said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “And I will go to Sir Richard and Haru.”
Colin sank onto his mattress with a groan. “I’m not sure if I can sleep or if I want to after all that,” his head bowed forward onto his chest, “but I don’t want to get back up now.”
Will nodded and forced himself to stand before he could fall over, asleep, onto his pillows. He kept thinking of Richard’s stricken face and imagining the elderly knight sitting next to Haru’s unmoving form on the stone floor. “Right, you two might want to wash up first,” he said as Rowan fell, face first, into his pillows. His response was too muffled for Will to make out but he didn’t move to rise again.
Colin struggled to his feet, green eyes assessing Will. “Are you sure, Will? You’ve been helping the healer almost all night. Are you sure you are up for going back into that chamber?”
Will nodded. “I’ll be fine, Colin, get some sleep,” before Colin could protest further, he turned and strode out of the squire chamber.
The halls were starting to come to life, pale-faced serving men and women rushing to relieve the exhausted healers that staggered into the dining hall. More than one person he passed seemed not to notice him or any of their surroundings for that matter. When he slipped into the Final Farewell, he was greeted with the choking smell of blood and a blast of cold air. Someone had opened all of the windows and propped the doors, where soldiers from Finnwick stood on guard. The benches had all been pushed aside, some used now as makeshift cots, others stacked to make more room.
He could see Sir Richard sitting on one bench, a silent sentry next to Haru’s unconscious form on the floor. Will said nothing as he sank on to the bench next to the knight, looking down at Haru’s pale face.
“The healer said he would be fine?” Richard asked, finally, breaking the silence.
Will nodded. “He just needs to rest it a while and watch for infection,” the knight grunted in answer and they sank into quiet again. Around them, people were using hushed voices, the soldiers who could be moved limping or being carried from the chamber and toward the healer quarters. The occasional whimper of pain made Will shiver. He couldn’t take it any longer. “You know, he was putting up a really good fight against Marl, even with this injury.”
�
�Is Marl who did this?” Richard asked, turning to face Will.
Will shook his head. “I don’t think so. He came out of the tunnels backwards, forced up the steps. Pretty sure he managed to kill the person who did this, or at least injure them enough that they couldn’t come up. Marl made it out after that.”
Richard nodded, eyes settling on his squire again. “If there were that many come for the main branch into the crypt, I don’t see why the Ranger would have sent him on his own up the tunnel.”
“We don’t know how many were moving other directions, to other tunnels below,” Will rubbed the back of his hand over his stinging eyes. He was suddenly so tired that he wanted to curl up and fall asleep on the bench, still guarding Haru.
“That’s true,” the knight sighed heavily.
Haru’s eyelids twitched and the two sank into quiet as the squire on the floor moaned in his sleep. His eyes slowly opened, blinking up at them bemusedly.
“Decided to rejoin the land of the living, boy?” Richard asked. He smiled and years of worry seemed to fade away.
Haru squeezed his eyes closed and opened them again, the green-grey shifted between Will and Richard. “How long have I been…what’s happened…where?”
“It’s morning, Haru,” Richard reached down, gripping Haru’s shoulder affectionately. “You haven’t been resting long enough. We just arrived back but Laster, the Ranger, and the Finnwick soldiers are still in the tunnels, pushing Thornten back.”
Haru’s gaze moved to Will and his brow furrowed in confusion. “Will?”
“I’m here,” Will said, fighting to keep his voice even. A lump was forming in his throat. Probably because I haven’t slept enough, he tried to reason with himself.
Haru tried to nod, wincing. Richard stood. “I’ll find the healer. I expect he has something to help with pain,” Will noticed how bright the knight’s eyes had become.
“Is he about to cry?” Haru asked, a crooked grin on his face as the knight strode away.
Will nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.
“Are you about to cry?” Haru raised his eyebrows.
“Shut up,” Will ran his sleeve over his eyes.
Haru laughed hoarsely, his own eyes unnaturally bright. “Stop that, right now, I’m not dying.”
“You nearly were killed by Marl,” Will forced himself to inhale.
“Marl is a bastard,” Haru said firmly. “And before you start bringing up that he’s your father and all that, I need you to know that doesn’t matter. You’re not like him,” Will nodded again, trying to believe Haru even as a dark part of him wondered if he could turn that cruel and heartless. Perhaps he would become that way if he stayed a squire and became a knight, as means of defense more than anything. “You saved my life, Will,” Haru said, grimly. “I can’t repay that.”
Will snorted. “You’d have done the same for me.”
Haru nodded, his eyelids started to sink. “Yeah, but it nearly cost you your life,” his words started to slur. “You’re going to be a damn good knight, someday,” his head lolled to the side slightly as his breathing deepened.
Richard returned a few minutes later, sinking onto the bench beside Will. “The healer will be over here shortly, but it looks like he’s already out again.”
“Yeah,” Will wiped his eyes on his sleeve again.
“You need rest, Will, you’ve done enough for one day,” Richard patted his shoulder. “I’ll be with him now, so you get set to sleep. Do you need to see the healer?”
Will’s hand moved to the tear in his tunic, the shallow slice from Marl’s sword beneath it. “I might as well,” he stood. “Richard, can you tell me if anything changes? Or when everyone comes back from the tunnels?”
The knight nodded. “I’ll send Ross himself to tell you. I think he can do that,” his lips twitched. “Will, the Ranger and Sir Ross are two of the best swordsmen ever to be born, they will be fine.”
Will nodded and, his muscles shaking with use and exhaustion, he started toward the doors. He didn’t need a healer, he had decided. All he really wanted right now was to wash and sleep for the next six years. He could wake up then; when they were ready to knight him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Despite the sunlight slanting through the windows, nightmare after nightmare woke Will through the day. By the whimpers and muttered words of the squires around him, he knew he was not the only one having issues forgetting the events of the night.
Twice he opened his eyes, sure that Marl would have followed him from his sleep and would be standing in the corner, a leering smile on his lips and his blood-stained sword in hand. He could hear the quiet voices beyond the wall of the council chamber and the footsteps of people coming and going.
In some of his nightmares, he was too slow and he watched Haru die on Marl’s sword, his eyes going blank like so many of the corpses he had seen. Too many corpses. He could see the Ranger dying in the darkness under the castle, Sir Ross, Robin, Laster, the Earl of Finnwick. Each time he woke, cold sweat was dripping down his forehead and the shallow wound on his chest throbbed with his heartbeat.
He closed his eyes, begging the nightmares to stay at bay, and felt a hand land, lightly, on his shoulder. He jolted awake, sitting up and striking out. The man beside the bed jerked back, barely missing the blow.
“Easy, Will,” the man growled, his form slowly coming into focus.
Will sat up, heart thundering. “Ross,” he whispered.
“Unfortunately,” he said, chuckling quietly. “Keep your voice down, I don’t want to wake everyone here. Richard said I had to come see you and Colin myself when we got back.”
“Where are the others? Did you find them? What’s happened?” Will asked in a rushed whisper.
Ross held up a hand. “Calm down, let me wake the other two so I don’t have to repeat myself.”
“We’re up,” Rowan’s voice hissed.
“Of course you are,” Ross turned to shoot Rowan and Colin a glower. “I’d expect nothing less. Eavesdroppers…”
“What’s happened?” Will demanded. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle not knowing.
“They are fine, amazingly enough. Robin needed some stitches on his ribs and Laster has a black eye to match Rockwood. Miller and the Ranger are exhausted, but, other than that, they somehow are alive and fine,” he sank onto the foot of Will’s bed with a groan. “The Earl, of course, seems fine and his biggest complaint is that he broke his sword’s blade and has to fire a blacksmith back at Finnwick.”
“What’s happening in the tunnels?” asked Colin, sitting up, “Are they being guarded?”
“Yes,” Ross nodded, running a hand through his hair. Will wasn’t sure he had ever seen the knight look so old. His dark blue eyes were shadowed, the lines on his face deeper than ever, “The King is commissioning gates to be built and locked throughout the crypt, as extra defense until more decisions are made. But,” he stood, furrowing his brows as he glowered at the three of them. “That’s not for you three to know. So, keep your noses out of it.”
“What if we just happen to hear something?” Rowan asked slyly.
“I’ll ensure you never hear again, how about that, Lonric brat?” Ross growled but his lips twitched into a small smile. “Now I am going to sleep. You three should try to sleep more if you can. Just don’t get into anything, please, until tomorrow. I can’t do anything else today.”
With that the knight walked from the room, leaving the three of them to exchange curious looks. “What do you reckon is not our business?” Rowan asked, raising his eyebrows.
Colin threw his pillow at Rowan. “For five minutes, can you not get us into trouble.”
Will chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking. “It’s got to be something with the crypts. I imagine the King has to decide something further with them than just gates. Gates can get broken.”
“But it’s the crypt of Kings,” Rowan said, sitting up further. “Col, pass me back the pillow, I decid
ed I still want it.”
“Too bad,” Colin pushed the pillow behind his back. “I’m not even comfortable, I just don’t want you to have it back.”
“You’re seriously the worst human on earth,” Rowan scowled before turning back to Will. “They can’t do a whole lot more than the gates. Honestly, we shouldn’t have even gone in. The Ranger didn’t want people to know because, unless you are tasked with carrying the body of the King to his final resting place, no one is to enter the crypt except Alamore royalty.”
“Wouldn’t the Ranger count as that?” Colin asked, readjusting the pillows. “I have too many pillows. Want one, Will?”
Will grinned. “Sure!” he caught the pillow, stacking it against his own.
Rowan scowled at them. “I hate you both.”
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 36