Kingmaker (30 page)

"Who called for the guard?"

The voice was vaguely familiar. It took Ellie a few moments, but she finally recognized the guard captain as one of the sergeants from the old days in Sergius's army.

The king wasn't a complete idiot, then. He'd sent his own men to take over the defenses of this critical city rather than trust his uncle to stay loyal.

Ellie had to hope that the sergeant wouldn't recognize her in her squire disguise.

"This lad sneaking around the crypts. He was probably looking for loot,” the priest announced.

Ellie laughed. “What sort of loot would a broken-down church like this hold? I'm sorry that my ancestors have had to spend so much time here. When I make knight and have a fief of my own, I'll have them exhumed and brought to a new church. Some place where the priests aren't decrepit and senile."

"Senile? I'll senile you, you villain.” The priest gave her another swing with the staff.

Fortunately, Ellie was ready for this one. She jumped over the low swing, letting the heavy crosier smack into one of the guards’ legs.

"Hey."

"I told you he was out of control,” Ellie reminded the sergeant.

The priest's wild swing had been a piece of luck. The guards all backed away from him, giving him looks that were filled with suspicion.

Unfortunately, the sergeant didn't fall for that. “Yeah? I don't remember seeing you around. What's your name? Who do you serve?"

She thought fast. “I'm Ellis, new squire to Baronet Arnold, son of Ranolf.” She wished she'd thought to ask Arnold how long he'd been here.

"Oh? And what horse is Arnold riding these days?"

Since she'd spent the previous night sharing an abandoned stable with Arnold's horse, that was an easy one. “He's a bay gelding. Eight years old. His name is Carrot."

The sergeant nodded. “All right, then, father. I can't say this Ellis doesn't look like a suspicious character but I guess he's all right. We'll just take him back to Baronet Arnold and make sure he's supposed to be out here. In the meantime, why don't you get back into your church and say a few prayers or something? I'm sure we could all use them."

She needed to talk her way out of this one. “But I've got errands—"

He cut her off before she could go on. “You'll come with me, Ellis. Because you were no more visiting your ancestors than I was spinning gold from straw."

She set her face into what she hoped was a convincing sulk, kicked her feet on the cobblestones, and let the sergeant grab her by the ear and lead her off—into the keep.

The keep's entrance was well protected.

A wet moat surrounded its high walls, providing both protection and disposal for its waste.

A single drawbridge crossed the moat. It was kept raised and was lowered only when the sergeant identified himself and showed his pass.

The lowered drawbridge exposed a heavy iron portcullis that further protected the sole entrance to the keep. Only when they had advanced across the bridge was this raised.

Ellie was dying to ask whether they were always this careful, but she was supposed to have been here before and she didn't dare. Instead, she kept her eyes open, looking for anything they could use in their attack.

Nothing jumped out at her.

The portcullis opened into a narrow stone passageway. Only two footmen or one mounted man could use it at any time.

No carts could enter this way. They would have to be offloaded, the boxes and crates hand-hauled into the immensity of the fortress.

For ordinary living, for comfort, for convenience, the design was horrible. For defense, it was formidable.

The passageway was dark, but occasional flashes of light showed where the kill slots were hidden. Twice, Ellie saw movement on the other side. Even at a time of relative peace, the guards were ready. If anyone attempted to make their way into the keep without proper passes, they'd be showered with boiling oil, skewered by iron crossbow bolts, and trapped by descending gates.

A second guard patrol met them at the far end of the passageway, rechecked the sergeant's pass, and finally allowed them entry into the main part of the keep.

But even that was more darkness, more narrow passageways that could be blocked and defended.

The keep had been built in the days before gunpowder weapons. Instead of windows, arrow slits provided a bit of light and an occasional breath of air.

What they wouldn't provide, though, was access. Even Ellie wasn't slender enough to slip through the narrow openings. The ninja would have to find some other way of entering. And Ellie had already decided it wouldn't be the front door.

Arnold's chambers were one level below the floor reserved for the captain of the city and his family.

The sergeant banged the hilt of his sword against the door. When a distracted looking man finally opened Arnold's door, the sergeant shoved Ellie in. “Tell your master that his squire was found wandering around the St. Norton's churchyard and to keep him out of trouble."

Ellie tensed. In seconds, she'd be discovered. And there was no way in the world that she could fight her way out of this keep. Getting killed would be bad enough. But once they'd killed her, it wouldn't take them long to figure out whom she was. Unless the local captain was a complete incompetent, he'd instantly guess what her presence here meant—and take steps to reinforce the guard and institute a citywide search.

"He's a new squire,” Arnold's man explained. “And you know lads, always wanting to explore and get into trouble. Searching for a woman, were you? Your father will be ashamed.” He turned away from the dumbfounded Ellie and spoke to the sergeant. “Thanks for bringing the boy back. I'll pass word to the master that he's been causing trouble."

"Right. I'll hold the Baronet responsible for any trouble he makes. And have him stay away from Saint Amando's Church."

The servant chuckled. “Ran into Father Big-Mouth, did he? Serves him right for wandering without leave. I'll make sure that Baronet Arnold keeps him under control. Now get in here, you scamp.” Arnold's man took Ellie's other ear and yanked her into Arnold's chambers.

The sergeant looked like he wanted to say more, but Arnold's man closed the door on him.

"Now what the devil are you doing here, princess? And where's Arnold?"

"I don't know what you're—"

"Spare me the excuses. I was there when you wandered into Ranolf's manor less than a year ago. And I never forget a face."

Oh, yeah. The aging butler. He looked pretty good, though. Fresh air and exercise had put some color in his cheeks.

"Want to let go of my ear, then, Kalfr?"

Ellie was a little surprised when he complied. Still, although he wasn't calling the guard, he certainly didn't look especially happy to see her.

"You have exactly two minutes to convince me that Arnold is safe,” he growled.

He was a big man, but his hand had practically blurred when he'd grabbed Ellie by the ear. Even if she stood a chance of subduing him, she would never be able to sneak out of the keep. She'd have to talk.

No clever lies sprang to her mind. She'd have to rely on the truth and hope that she'd found a sympathetic ear. From the way her own ear stung, she thought the odds were low. Still, even a bad chance is better than no chance at all.

"I ran into Arnold yesterday. I knew his honor would force him to report me, so I captured him."

Kalfr nodded although his face showed considerable doubt. “Say I believe you. Then what?"

"He gave me his parole not to try to escape. So he's unharmed and well fed. At least as well fed as he can be considering he's doing most of the cooking."

The servant breathed a sigh of relief—and Ellie did too. She was telling the truth but she wasn't sure she would have believed it.

Her relief was premature.

"So the rebel army has decided to strike at Harrison? That seems foolhardy, even for a gang of bandits."

She froze, her eyes searching for a way out. Unfortunately, the only way out was the way she'd come in—past hundreds of wide-awake and anxious soldiers.

"That's an interesting speculation,” Ellie said, trying not to admit anything. “What do you intend to do about it?"

"Baron Ranolf is very concerned about your crazy scheme to treat peasants like nobility."

That didn't sound promising. But she wasn't going to compromise on her ideals again. Not even to save her life. “I can understand his feelings."

He smiled. “I, on the other hand, am more sympathetic. Lacking specific orders to the contrary, I'm forced to use my own judgment. And my judgment is that Arnold is better served by you than by Sergius. So, what can we do to help?"

It turned out that Kalfr, couldn't do much. Ellie had considered introducing a drug into the keep's food, but ordinary squires and servants didn't have access to the kitchens. Worse, the soldiers did their own cooking so Alys's plans to infiltrate the female servants wouldn't work.

Kalfr also didn't know the guard schedules or rotations, and didn't even know the password for the following evening. Lubica had spent too long at war for its warlords to be careless.

There was no way Kalfr could help Ellie smuggle a hundred ninja into the citadel. And even if he could, there was no way even a hundred ninja could overcome the fortress's garrison of over five hundred soldiers and another hundred squires who could be armed and pressed into battle. Plus the off-duty city guards who often bunked in the fortress.

"Can you get access to the roof?” Ellie asked after running through just about everything else on her list.

"Oh, sure. Lots of people go up there to get some air or to grow herbs. But I don't see how that would help. It's three hundred feet high."

"Could you lower a line?"

Kalfr considered, then shook his head. “There are guards. They'd notice if I brought up a rope."

"Okay. I'll get the rope to you. Your job is to be there, secure the grappling hook, and then make sure any guards are distracted when we start coming over the top."

"If you can get a rope up three hundred feet of solid rock, I guess I can create a distraction."

"Good. Tomorrow night an hour before dawn, then."

"You are going to keep Arnold safe, aren't you?"

Ellie laughed. “Safer than the rest of us, anyway."

The keep reeked of ancient magic. For hundreds of years, mages had summoned their energies to defend the fortress against physical and magical attack. After a time, it seemed, the shadows of those patterns remained, clinging to the building like lichen clinging to a rock.

For thirty hours, Ellie had carefully, slowly, dissolved many of the ancient barriers until, finally, she was ready to move. Just in time. Sunrise was probably two hours off. Mark would be launching his offensive to coincide with the break of dawn and she wanted to be in control of the fortress by then.

Ellie took the grappling hook and placed it in the center of her magical wards.

She pushed stones into place, creating the pattern that would focus her energy and watched the hook rise.

The guerilla army had gathered all the silk they'd looted from a dozen Rissel trading caverns and woven it into a lightweight rope, but three hundred feet of rope, even silk rope, was a heavy load for Ellie's magic.

Still, this was their only hope.

She pressed a stone into place, then another, trying to keep her focus on the purple haze of magic rather than on the thin rope that gradually paid out behind the levitated grappling hook.

Both hook and line were dyed a deep black. They blended into the darkness of night. Around her, she could sense rather than see the black uniforms of the proto-ninja as they gathered, stretched, and prepared for the long climb.

Her hands shook as she placed a stone. Each time, there was more weight to bear and each time, she was more fatigued. But fatigue didn't matter; only the task mattered. She shook sweat from her eyes but didn't dare take the moment to wipe them. It took time to focus enough energy to raise the hook. It would take only a momentary lapse of concentration to send it crashing to the ground.

She was pressing another stone into place when the sensation of weight vanished—and she stumbled forward, her head almost cracking into the flat rock where she had laid her pattern before she caught herself.

"It's up,” Alys breathed.

Ellie had wanted to go first. Now, she was glad she'd let Micael talk her out of it. She had about as much energy as a colicky kitten.

Instead, Micael began the long climb. Behind him, he trailed half a dozen thin black lines—lines he would use to haul up more ropes—if he survived long enough to do so.

In the meantime—Ellie forced herself to her feet. She had work to do down here.

The huge log had once been the central stay for an abandoned building's roof. During the past two days, the ninja had dug it out from the ruins. Now, they raised it on its end, and waited.

It seemed to Ellie that they'd waited forever. Surely Micael would have reached the top long before. Surely they must have been betrayed—either by Kalfr or by one of Arnold's other servants.

But a light finally flickered green and mysterious looking at the top of the keep.

She couldn't hear any sounds of fighting—but that didn't mean anything. The keep's rooftop was too far for any but the loudest of sounds to penetrate.

She felt, rather than saw, the ninja swarm up the silk rope and then the other lines that Micael had hauled behind him.

And she began her count.

If she moved too soon, she would warn the fortress and trap Micael and the other ninja on the rooftop. If she waited too long, the guards could swarm from the trap she was about to spring.

Another wave of ninja left. And she heard the first faint sound of metal on metal from far overhead.

Her muscles tensed, but she willed herself to relax. The first wave included their best warriors, ninja trained to move silently, to kill without allowing an alarm.

"Five hundred.” She finished the count out loud. “Now."