Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3) (28 page)

A man in a dirty cloak, hood pulled down exposing his curly, hair charged at them.  He let out a loud cry as he lifted a long-bladed dagger from inside his cloak.

The two guardsman released their grasp on him in order to draw their own blades.  But the surprise and shock of being attacked in the middle of the castle caused them to be just a little bit slow in their reactions.  Berrien, instantly recognizing the curly hair of Commander Roland, grabbed the guardsman on his left and pushed him hard against the wall.  Roland went straight at the guard on Berrien’s right.

Roland was an expert soldier and was proficient in many weapons, especially the dagger.  With little effort, he dispatched his guard with a deep thrust into the gut before the guard’s weapon cleared his scabbard.  To ensure that the guard was dead, he drew the dagger across the man’s throat.

Berrien was not quite as fortunate with his attack.  Although the soldier was caught off his guard, Berrien’s smaller stature made it easy for the guard to quickly recover.  With a quick punch to the side of the face, Berrien was stunned and staggered backwards.  This gave the guard time to draw his weapon, but just as he did, Roland had taken up the other guard’s sword and stepped in between the guard and Berrien.  Roland did not give the man a chance to defend himself and thrust his sword deep into the guard’s chest, slicing into his heart and killing him instantly.

“Are there more?” Roland asked, peering around the corner to look down the hallway they had come from.

Berrien was still stunned and his mind and mouth weren’t cooperating together.  He looked from one dead man to the next.  A large pool of blood was still pumping out of the slit throat of the first guard, spreading across the hallway floor.  The second guard was slumped against the wall, eyes open.

“Are you hurt?” Roland then asked, recognizing Berrien’s state.

Berrien shook his head.  His stomach churned, but he was able to keep himself from throwing up.  He had seen dead men before, but never had he been so close to this kind of slaughter.

“Good,” Roland replied.  He looked down at the two dead guardsmen.  “It is fortunate that I came upon you.”

“Yes,” Berrien said, trying not to look at the dead men.  “Where is Peter?  We need to get out of here, and quickly.  The Karmons know our army is outside the city.  If we don’t get out now, we may never get out.”

“We still have a job to do.  Peter is up scouting out the queen.  I am on my way to meet up with him near the kitchens.  It is hectic there with scores of servants and pages running around trying to serve their lords and ladies so we should be able to make it out of the castle.”

“You don’t understand,” Berrien exclaimed.  “They know about us.  The army.  And us.  They’ll come for us!  This could be our only opportunity to get out of the city alive!”

Commander Roland looked at him and said, “You are panicking and this is no time to panic.  We must think clearly and smartly.  We still have a job to do, but if you can’t help, then you’re going to be a hindrance and I’ll just leave you here.”

“What?” Berrien exclaimed.  “You can’t just leave me here!”

“Then get a hold of yourself and follow me.”

Commander Roland seemed to know where he was going as he walked quickly along the hallways and made decisive turns when necessary.  It took them only moments to reach the kitchens.  Peter was there, dressed as a servant in a loose wool tunic.  He stood a head above everyone else, so it was easy to spot him.

Among the chaos and noise of the activity, Peter said as quietly as he could, “I was just up in the Great Hall and some soldier came running in and interrupted it.  He knows the army is here.  We have to move now.”

“You mean leave the city?” Berrien asked hopefully.

Peter grabbed Berrien by the front of his tunic and pulled him out of the main hall and down side corridor.  He said, “The time for diplomacy is over.  We have to act now before it is too late and the queen is fully protected.”

“I’m ready,” Commander Roland added.  “To die a soldier’s death will be an honor!”

“Wait a minute,” Berrien exclaimed.  “I’m not ready to die a soldier’s death!”

Roland let out a low growl.  “Are you not a servant of the emperor?  You are.  You must be prepared to serve the empire in any capacity that is asked of you!”

“You soldiers are crazy,” Berrien replied with a shake of his head.  “You go on.  I’ll stay right here.”

“We can’t do that,” Peter said.  “We can’t risk you getting caught.”

“I don’t want to die!”

“How about if I kill you right now,” Roland snapped, holding his bloody dagger up for Berrien to see.  “So it’s your choice.  You can come with us and maybe make it out alive, or I can slit your throat right now.  Which will it be?”

Peter pushed Roland’s arm down and said, “That won’t be necessary.”  To Berrien, he said, “I don’t want to die, either.  But sometimes in the service of our masters, we must sacrifice.  And to serve the empire, it just may be our lives that are sacrificed.  The castle will be in chaos for the next couple of hours as the weak panic and the strong try and maintain order.  But before long, the queen’s guards will put a tight ring around her that we will not be able to get through.  If we are quick enough, we might be able to get to her.  It’s now or never.”

“Now,” Roland replied.

Both looked at Berrien, who felt like he was going to be sick.  “Fine,” he finally said.

Peter patted him on the shoulder.  “Good.  I’ve scouted the castle and know where to go.  There’s a back entrance to her apartments that is lightly guarded.”

“Then lead on,” Roland said, licking his lips.

Berrien followed, unsure how to think about the idea that in only a matter of minutes, he would likely be dead.

Chapter Eighteen

 

In no time, Conner found his way through the hallways of the castle and reached the back entrance to the royal apartment.  The halls were empty, presumably due to the castle servants and pages helping to make sure that the queen and all her guests were served in a royal fashion.  He did find it slightly odd, though, as he had never seen any part of the castle so devoid of any activity.  It did make it easier for them to get through the hallways as they didn’t have to avoid anyone.

With the stairwell to the apartments just ahead, Conner placed a hand on Glaerion’s shoulder and slowed their pace.  A single guard stood at his post at the base of the stairwell.  His eyes followed them as they approached.

Conner had hoped that the absence of anyone else walking the halls meant that they wouldn’t be challenged trying to sneak into the queen’s apartments.  It would have been much easier not to have to deal with a guard, but he and Glaerion had already discussed what they were to do.  With a castle filled with guests, it would not seem out of the question for two of them to get lost.

“Hello!” Conner called out with a smile.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the guard said.  He was a young man around Conner’s age.  He seemed more surprised than alarmed that Conner and Glaerion were approaching, so he did not draw his weapon.

“We are lost,” Conner started to say.  But then he saw Glaerion pull out his dagger and leap towards the guard.  Unable to react, he could only cry out, “No!”

The guard tried desperately to pull out his sword, but he was not fast enough.  Glaerion landed just in front of the him.  Having turned his dagger over so that the pommel was exposed, the elf struck the guard directly on his forehead.  The guard crumpled to the ground without a sound.

Glaerion looked back at Conner and said, “Did you think I was going to kill him?”

Conner looked down at the guard, who suddenly had a large knot on the front of his head.  “Well, yes.”

“You were right.  I changed my mind at the last moment.”

“What about our plan to talk our way past him?”

“I don’t really like to talk,” Glaerion replied.  He started to climb the stairs.

“Wait!  What are we going to do with him?”

“Leave him.  We’ll be gone from the castle shortly.”

“Yeah, but what if another guard comes in the next few minutes and raises an alarm.  The secret exit just leads outside the castle walls, not outside the city.”

“What do you suggest, then?” Glaerion said impatiently.

“Hide him,” Conner said.  “There’s a door just down the hall.  We can put him in whatever room that is.”

“Will it really matter?  A guard knocked out or a missing guard?  And once he wakes up, he’ll raise the alarm anyway.  We’re wasting time.  You have the Ark, so let’s get moving.”

Conner stepped over to the guard and lifted him from under the armpits and started to move him.  “Help me move him, first.”

Glaerion let out a low grumble in elven, but he helped Conner carry the unconscious guard down the corridor to a nearby room.  It was a small room that was filled with dusty furniture.  They set him down on the floor and quickly returned to the stairwell.

Conner led the way up the stairs.

The last time that he had been in the castle, it was here that he was posted to serve as guard and protector to the newly crowned queen.  He had taken these same steps two at a time then, as he did now.  At that time, he was racing up the stairs towards Elissa to save her from Neffenmark’s brutality.  Now he was racing up the stairs to run away from her so that he could save the world.

For a fleeting moment he thought about this being the place where everything had begun.  If he had only ignored the cries and pleas coming from the queen, he would still be innocently living the life of a guardsman.  But Neffenmark would still be king and he probably would not have stopped hurting Elissa.  Even though Master Goshin might have still been alive, Elissa would have been miserable married to that man.  There were no regrets with what he did.

As he reached the top landing, he came to the final realization that regardless of anything that he had done in the past year, Tarcious would have still marched his army upon the city.  But because of the direction his life had taken him, he had the Ark and Tarcious would not get it.  Those thoughts gave him the confidence he needed to keep moving and know that soon the Ark would be safe.  He just hoped that Elissa and everyone else that he cared for were able to get out of the city before the army attacked.

Glaerion impatiently pushed past him and tested the door.  It was locked.  The doorframe, which had previously been shattered when Conner burst through it to protect Elissa, had been fixed.  With quick precision, Glaerion unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Conner stepped through first, cautiously stepping into the room where his journey had truly begun.  The entire room had been changed.  Every piece of furniture was new, as was every curtain, tapestry, and mural.  A thick rug was covering the spot where Neffenmark had fallen.  The long fireplace that warmed the room in the winter was still there.  The remnants of a fire burned providing a little warmth to the cold room.

“What now?” Glaerion asked, looking around.

Conner did not hear him as he looked at the wall above the bed.  Mounted there were two swords, sheathed in their scabbards.

“What are you doing?” Glaerion asked.

Conner stepped onto the bed and pulled down the swords.  He pulled one of the blades out from its scabbard and suddenly found himself unable to breathe.  He had given up hope of ever seeing his swords again, but now that he had them, he felt complete.  The other sword came out of its scabbard as he jumped off the bed.  With precise ease, he swung the swords, testing their balance.  They were perfect in his hands.

“Sak’turana.  A Hurai blade,” Glaerion said.  “You hold them well.”

Conner acknowledged the rare compliment with a nod while he swung them one more time, listening to them sing through the air.  With a comfort that he had not had in many months, he sheathed the swords and tied the scabbards to his belt.  Then he went to the long fireplace that spread across the entire back wall.  It took a couple of tries, but he eventually found the brick that triggered the hidden door to open.  A spring-triggered mechanism popped the door open so Conner could grab it and pull it open wide enough for them to step through

“We will need the light of your dagger,” Conner said, looking into the darkness.

With the light to guide them, the trip through the dark tunnel was much quicker than his last time.  Conner led the way with Glaerion and his glowing dagger just behind him.  When they reached the end of the tunnel, the iron grate was still unlocked.  He hoped that Elissa still used it to escape the castle.  She enjoyed visiting with the young children of the city, especially those that lived in the slums.  It would be a shame if her rise to power resulted in her inability to connect with those that loved her so much.

It was still night when they emerged in the back alleyway.

“Well that was convenient,” Glaerion said, mostly to himself.  “What other secrets does the castle hold?”

Cautiously, Conner led them down the alley and out into the street.  There was no one else around, which made the city seem slightly eerie.  He expected there to some sounds, some activity.  But it was just as quiet as the forest in the middle of winter.

A clanging of a gate shattered the silence.  There were a few shouts and then horses appeared from around the corner coming from the main gate of the castle.  Conner fought the instinct to dive back into the alley, but he just stood at the edge of the street and let them race past.  There were more than he could easily count and they made thunderous noise as they charged down the street.

“They are fully armed,” Glaerion noted.  “Barding on the horses.  Shield in hand.  Is that normal?”

“Not since we marched north into Thell,” Conner replied.

There was more shouting, but they were too far away to hear what was being said.  Even though it was still nighttime, the city began to wake.  With a quick step, they headed towards the main gate, which was also the direction that the armed soldiers were heading.

As they made their way through the city, more soldiers came racing from the castle.  They kept to the side of the street not only to stay inconspicuous, but also to avoid being run over.  But the soldiers atop their mounts did not pay them any heed.  They had their own duties and it didn’t involve two men innocently walking down the street.

“I’ve never seen the main gate closed before,” Conner observed.

The main gates had been pulled shut and all the mounted soldiers that had passed them on the street were milling about in front of the gate.  They had all dismounted and were gathered in a tight group.  Young boys stood next to the horses, holding their reigns to keep them from wondering off.

“What about your walk through the wall spell?”

“No.  You saw what it did to me the last time.  Are you willing to carry me after we make it through?  I didn’t think so.  Plus, I am feeling weaker than I should be.  I think touching the Ark took a lot out of me.”

“Well, there is another option.  There is a secret tunnel under the gate.”

The elf raised an eyebrow.  “Under,” he asked.  “As in under the ground?”

“Yes, under.”  Conner started to walk away, but Glaerion did not follow.  “What’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” Glaerion quickly replied.  “Lead on.”

With Glaerion following, Conner walked away from the gate towards the darkest part of the city.  While most streets of the city were lit by oil lamps during the night, the streets of the slums were only lit by the light of the stars and the moon.  But with clouds covering the night sky, only the ambient light from the city lit their way.

He had only been down this path once, but he still remembered the route that Havid, head of the Merchant’s Guild, had taken him.  The dilapidated house was still there, looking as run down as he remembered.  A thick blanket covered the doorway, doing a poor job of keeping out the cold and wind.  Cautiously, Conner pushed it aside and walked into the house.  Glaerion pulled out his dagger to bring light to the inside of the house.

“Hold there!” called a voice from beyond the soft blue light of the dagger.

Glaerion turned his dagger towards where the sound of the voice came from, spreading light to the far corner of the small room.  An elderly man was there, holding a long knife in his shaking hands.

“We need to get through the tunnel,” Conner said.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man snapped back.  “Be gone!  Before I have to take you out!”

“Well,” Glaerion said, chuckling.  “You have no fear, old man.  I’ll give you that.  Now show us this tunnel of yours.”

“You remember me?” Conner asked, ignoring the rudeness of his companion.  “Havid, Paul, and myself were here just a few months ago.  You helped us escape the city.”

The old man squinted in the low light.  “Yeah, maybe ya look familiar enough.  But you didn’t say the words to pass!  I can’t let no one pass without knowing the words.”

“I don’t know them, but we have to get out of the city right away,” Conner said.

“Where does this tunnel start?” Glaerion asked.  He started moving around the room and kicked the man’s blankets out of the way as he searched for the tunnel entrance.

“Glaerion! Stop it!” Conner called out.

“We don’t have time for this.  Where is the tunnel?”

The elderly man walked up to Conner and looked at him more closely.  “I have seen you before.  With the princess.  She is a good young lady, coming to visit us and all.  Haven’t seen her around in a while, though.”

“She is queen, now,” Conner said.

The man let out a snort.  “Queen, princess.  Whatever.”  He pointed to a spot on the floor.  “Dig there.  I am too tired to do it myself.”

Conner grabbed the man’s shovel while Glaerion used his dagger to clear the loose dirt from the top of the tunnel entrance.  As soon as the trap door was cleared of dirt, Conner pulled it up by a short piece of thick rope.  The elf dropped through the opening, landing without a sound.

“Thank you,” Conner said.  He wished he had something to give the old man, but he had no coins and could only offer his thanks.

“Yeah, well, okay,” the man grumbled, realizing he wasn’t getting his customary pay.

Conner climbed down the ladder to the impatiently waiting elf.

“What is this?” Glaerion asked, looking up at the low ceiling.  It was still taller than him by a few inches, but he still crouched.

“It’s an old smuggler’s tunnel that the Merchants Guild uses, or used, to get stuff into and out of the city without having to pay taxes on it.  I don’t think that it’s really used that much anymore.  It’s how I escaped after killing Neffenmark.”

With his dagger pulled out for light, Glaerion said, “Let’s move.”

He led the way, walking very fast.

They walked in silence until they reached the end of the tunnel.  A ladder led up to the door above their head.  A rope hung down through a hole in the ground.  Conner gave it two tugs.  Then he took a step back and sat down with his back to the tunnel wall.

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