Healers (32 page)

Tarc pointed toward the man who’d just sprawled onto the pavers, “I just knocked this guy out, but there’s someone coming from the other way. Tie this guy up while I go deal with the other guard.” So she wouldn’t be able to argue about who should do what, he immediately turned on his toes and ran lightly down to the corner.

Stopping at the corner, Tarc reached out with his ghost for the oncoming guard just as the man saw the one they’d hogtied. He immediately clamped off all flow in the man’s carotid, but not before the guard got out a little yelp. Hoping against hope no one had heard his abbreviated shout, Tarc ran down and quickly gagged the man. Then he bound the guard’s wrists to his ankles behind his back.

Tarc ran back to the room. Before he got there, his ghost told him Eva was up and moving to the door. The others were clustered in the doorway. Arriving, he hissed, “Let’s go! That last guy got out a little shout. Probably more of them are going to be coming.” He didn’t tell them his ghost already showed guards trotting their way. He just started toward the wall and expected them to follow.

Behind Tarc, Roper stared down at Eva’s ankles. The light wasn’t good, but he was sure he would have been able to see the chain! And he certainly should have heard it clanking! How did she get free of something that had been riveted into place?!

As they passed the last building between them and the wall, Tarc said, “There’s someone coming around the corner to the right!”

Lizeth said, “Got ‘im,” and danced forward, sword out in front of her.

“Don’t
kill
him!” Tarc hissed.

Lizeth rounded the corner, meeting the guy just as he was about to reach it. She managed to stop with her sword under the guard’s chin, but said, “What the hell are we going to do with him?! We can’t take time to tie him up now!”

Tarc ran by. As he passed, he slapped the man on the side of the head. To Lizeth’s confounded amazement the man pitched to the side, staggered about ten feet and ran into the palace wall. He collapsed to the ground with his arms spread out like he was trying to hold onto the pavers. The six of them started up the ladder next to the cupola where their rope was tied.

Shouting rose behind them on the palace grounds. Tarc leapt up onto the wall and started down the rope, saying, “Lizeth, you help them get started over the edge. I’ll help them down on the other side.”

Tarc had more upper body strength than she did, so it made sense for him to help catch them if they fell. Lizeth hadn’t considered how difficult it might be for Eva and the Ropers, just to get across the wall and on to the rope, much less descend it. They were slow and nervous and she could practically feel the guards coming. Her experience bossing people around in a crisis helped, but she practically had to heave Haley and Eva up on to the wall, placing their hands on the rope and hissing at them to hurry. Henry Roper insisted Daussie go next, which Daussie did with alacrity.

But then Henry tried to insist Lizeth go next.

She suddenly realized he was afraid he couldn’t do it. Leaning up into his face she bellowed at him in her best command voice. “Dammit Henry, if you don’t go right
now
, you’re going to get us
both
killed!” She shoved him, “
Go
, or by all the saints we’re
leaving you here
!”

Roper heaved his somewhat overweight body up on the wall, grabbed the rope and swung over to the other side. Even in the dim light, Lizeth could see the panic in his eyes. He froze. She smacked his hands and said, “Go!” once again. A second later, he began to descend. As soon as he was out of the way, she swung herself out over the wall. Glancing into the palace compound she saw dim shapes running toward her.
Shit!
she thought.

The rope bounced as Roper apparently slipped. Lizeth heard Tarc grunt, apparently catching the larger man, but when she glanced down they were both sprawled in the street!
Shit!
she thought again, then recklessly shot down the rope.

When she reached the ground, Tarc was on his feet and helping heave Roper to his. Thankfully, she saw Daussie hustling the other two women down the street toward the Palace Tavern. She started shoving Henry after them.

Tarc ran half a block down the street, then stopped. He pulled his bow off his back and reached back for an arrow.
Now he decides to start killing people?!
Lizeth thought in astonishment. She looked back at the wall. It was hard to be sure in the dim light, but she didn’t think she saw any heads appearing in the crenellations yet.

Tarc shot an arrow anyway. Lizeth had no idea what he thought he was shooting at. Maybe just trying to get them to keep their heads down? But they probably wouldn’t even see him shooting. He stood there for a few seconds, then turned and ran after the rest of them.

David was standing night guard in the anteroom to the king’s bedchamber when the ruckus broke out on the palace grounds. A few moments later, the king pulled open the door to his side of the anteroom, “What the hell’s going on?!”

“I don’t know, Sir King.”

“Well, let’s go have a look!” the king said, turning and stalking across his bedchamber to the east balcony.

Once they were out on the balcony, David could tell from the sounds that the commotion was coming from the east side of the grounds. He couldn’t see much, but realized uneasily it seemed to be from near the cells. Those rooms were where they kept the enslaved girls, the healer, and a couple of political prisoners. He’d just started to wonder if someone was trying to escape when he heard a thump to his left where the king had been standing.

David turned to look.

Even in the dim starlight, David could see the astonished look on the king’s face as he stared down at the feathered end of an arrow protruding from his chest.

The king gave him a pleading look, though David wondered what the king thought he could possibly do. A moment later, King Philip fell over, lying on his side because the shaft of the arrow protruding from his back kept him from rolling supine.

Though David knew the death of a king without an heir almost always produced a lot of turmoil, he still felt joy bubbling through him at the death of this one. This particularly
odious
king.

He wondered if he could release the palace’s enslaved girls during the commotion.
I can just say the king sent me out to find out what was happening. No one has to know I was standing there when a stray arrow struck him down.
He turned and headed for the door.
Then I can unlock their door and trash the paperwork on the girls’ sentences…

Daussie led their little troop. Lizeth was bringing up the rear with Tarc. Eva rode well, but the Ropers sat their horses like loose sacks of potatoes. Lizeth realized that if they were forced to go very far on horseback, the Ropers were going to be crying in pain.

They zigged and zagged the streets a couple of times, but were heading mostly north toward an empty warehouse Lizeth had picked out the day before.

Because the gates at the walls would be closed, they wouldn’t be able to leave the city at night. They planned to camp in the warehouse until morning. Lizeth worried they might not be able to get out then either. By then, the palace would surely have the gate guards carefully watching for them. She supposed they could scout the gates to see if it looked like the guards were on alert. If so they could wait for the furor to die down, but that could take days or weeks. Surely someone would report the presence of some vagrants in the warehouse if the palace posted a reward.

As he mounted his horse, Lieutenant Brent shouted at the guards to open the gate. According to the Captain, some of the prisoners had escaped. The healer woman and at least two others. Guards on foot were after them, but the Captain wanted a mounted squad in case whoever had rescued them brought horses.

Brent worried that, with the lead the escapees must have developed while he and his men were getting saddled, the healer woman and her friends would have faded into the warrens of the city. Hopefully, the foot soldiers at least had some idea where they had gone. In Brent’s favor, there weren’t very many people out and about on the streets, so if the escapees hadn’t immediately gone to ground they should be easy to recognize. Unfortunately, without a moon, they’d be searching by starlight.

The gate creaked open and Brent’s squad of eight horsemen rode out into the streets. A foot soldier ran up breathing hard. He threw a sketchy salute and gasped out, “They were keeping horses at the Palace Tavern! They started north, but turned right at the first corner.”

Brent returned the salute and kicked his horse up to a canter. They turned right at the next street after the Palace Tavern. At the next corner another foot-soldier told them the prisoners had turned back north.

They turned right then left at a couple of more corners, but then after being told to turn east one last time, they outran the guidance of any foot-soldiers. Brent was wondering whether to keep turning east, then north, or to split up his meager troop, when he saw some people on horseback about ten blocks to the north. “There they are,” he shouted, pointing and spurring his horse to a gallop.

Glancing back regularly, Lizeth was the first to see the troop of mounted guards barreling down behind them. “Crap!” she said, looking around for a place to make a stand.

Tarc immediately looked back over his shoulder; then slipped off his horse. He quick stepped to a halt. “Get the others to the warehouse! I’ll delay these guys.”

Lizeth’s first thought was to stay and help Tarc. Then she realized that would leave the others without anyone who could fight. With a curse she grabbed the reins of Tarc’s horse and urged her own to greater speed, “Pick up your pace! We’re turning left at the next corner! The guardia’s on our trail!”

Tarc shrugged out of his pack, grabbed the big bundle of heavy cord out of it and tossed the pack itself back over his shoulder. He quickly tied the end of the cord to a steel grating over the window of a wealthy looking house. He sprinted across the street, looking for somewhere to tie off the other end. Not finding anything, he ran a little farther down the street looking unsuccessfully for somewhere sturdy to tie it.

The horsemen were only a block away now. Tarc decided he’d run out of time. He stepped into an alcove and watched them approach. They perhaps hadn’t noticed him slipping off his horse, or just couldn’t see him in the dim lighting. In any case, none of them seemed to be focused on Tarc. Just before they reached the cord, he hauled it up tight at the level of the horses’ eyes.

Almost immediately, the cord jerked and burned his fingers as it raked across the face and eyes of the first two horses to run into it. They shied. The second horse reared, unseating its rider. The trailing horses balked and faltered in reaction, piling up in a group.

Tarc reached out with his ghost and found the semicircular canals of one of the two horses which seemed to be in the control of their riders. He swirled the fluid and the horse swung its head, twisting to the side then lurching as it tried to recover its balance. Its rider vaulted out of the saddle just before the horse went over sideways and would have crushed his leg. Tarc turned his ghost on the next horse. Worried the horse might break a leg he spun the fluid a little less vigorously. This horse staggered, but didn’t fall. Its rider leapt down and Tarc swirled the fluid in the rider’s ears.

For the next few minutes Tarc kept the horses off balance. Not wanting any of the guards to break their necks, he didn’t whirl their fluids while they remained mounted, but once they dismounted, he knocked them down hard. Of the eight men, five threw up. All of them spent minutes at a time lying spread eagled on the ground.

When Tarc judged enough time had passed for Lizeth to get the others to the warehouse, he slipped away into the night. He kept his ghost out wide as he walked to the warehouse himself, but no one else approached.

When he got to the warehouse, his mother ran to give him a hug. While clasping him so hard he could barely breathe, she said, “I
told
you not to try some crazy kind of rescue!”

Tarc laughed, then said, “I love you too Mom.”

He got welcome hugs from Lizeth and Mrs. Roper. Mr. Roper gave him a hearty handshake. Daussie though, slumped in the corner. He couldn’t see her expression in the dim light, but to his ghost, her body language read “depressed.”

While the others discussed possible strategies for getting past the gate the next morning, Tarc went over and squatted down next to his sister. “What’s the matter Dauss?”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“The king’s slaves?”

Daussie nodded, “I’m so
spineless
. I should have taken that bastard out when he first attacked those girls, but I tried to just disable his equipment. Then I promised myself I’d kill him once we had Mom free, but in the midst of our getaway, I kept holding off until voilà, I was too far away…” A look of determination spread across her face. She started getting up, “I can go back!”

Tarc stopped her with a hand on her forearm, “I already did it Dauss.”

She stared blinking at him for a moment, “That arrow you shot? You weren’t shooting at one of the guards?”