“Certainly.”
“Go and move it outside the gates. I’ll meet you there shortly.”
She glanced at him in wild uncertainty.
Sweet Ilios. Walled town. We’re trapped.
“I’ll be fine,” he said softly, his stare pinned on the black-haired knight. “Go. Eadric failed to listen to me. Remember what happened to him?” he reminded her in a low tone when she lingered, torn.
“Very well.” She swallowed her uncertainty and nodded. “Be careful.” Then she slipped away, blending into the crowd and heading down one of the market aisles, her heart pounding.
Before leaving the market for the innyard, she paused just long enough to see what happened next. People fled out of the way, clearing a path as the soldiers clomped toward him in formation. The red knight hung back. Reynulf was the only man there who was Thaydor’s size, but the foot soldiers had the numbers…and their orders, it seemed.
She could hear their captain shouting. “Sir Thaydor Clarenbeld! Thaydor, son of Thaydon War Hammer!” the man yelled at him in a tone of guarded respect. “Stop right there, sir! Would you put your hands up, please, where we can see them? Don’t touch Hallowsmite! You need to come with us.”
Another dozen troops hurried onto the scene, streaming into position from the other end of the market to surround him.
Wrynne’s stomach twisted with a dreadful knowing as she glanced again in Thaydor’s direction. This degree of treachery could only come from the palace. Just as she had warned him.
“What is the meaning of this?” Thaydor demanded.
“Sir Thaydor Clarenbeld, you are under arrest!” the captain shouted.
“Arrest?” he thundered in astonishment. “For what?”
It was the war god’s paladin who answered him with a cold smile, but Wrynne was too far away to hear Reynulf’s reply. All she saw was the rage that filled Thaydor’s face, then the ripple of shocked murmurs as the gawking shoppers whispered to one another. Much to her frustration, she could not make out their words, only see their incredulous expressions.
But the shock on Thaydor’s face told her that he knew in that moment beyond all doubt that he had been well and truly betrayed. Given his own high rank, the warrant for his arrest could not have been issued unless the king himself had signed it.
“You know these are lies,” he said loudly to Reynulf.
The red knight shrugged. “I have my orders.”
Thaydor shook his head, his stare fixed on Reynulf. But when he drew his sword, against the captain’s warnings, Wrynne’s breath caught, her hand flying to her mouth.
Don’t…
Lowering his head, Thaydor charged straight at Reynulf and tackled him. Ramming him with his shoulder, he knocked his rival off his feet and sent him crashing to the ground in a clatter of metal. Still dressed in street clothes, Thaydor was too quick and agile to go down with the heavily armored knight.
Instead, he stepped on Reynulf’s chest as he leaped over the red knight and ran a few steps out into the square, eluding the soldiers who had surrounded him and moving clear of the crowd of innocent bystanders.
Wrynne could not tell what exactly he intended to do. Fleeing was obviously not in the man’s nature, but if he hurt or killed any of the king’s men, he would only be making it worse for himself.
She could not bear to walk away and leave him to his fate, but he had given her his orders, and she knew she had to trust in his experience and skill. Hoping no one had noticed them come into the town together, she ran the rest of the way to the wagon and dismissed the boy who’d been guarding it.
As she climbed up onto the driver’s seat and took up the reins, she paused for a second, wondering if she should free Avalanche to gallop to his master’s side and get him out of there. He was trained to do so, judging by how he had gone running to Thaydor yesterday in the field.
But no, she decided. If the king’s men captured his mount, Thaydor would be absolutely furious at her.
Then, to her horror, one the king’s men bellowed to the sentries on the tower.
“Shut the gates!”
Wrynne clapped the reins over Polly’s back and managed to get the wagon moving. The way Thaydor had left it parked, backing up would have been too long and arduous an ordeal, so her only choice was to go forward and circle all the way around the inn before turning back out onto the street.
As she squeezed through the narrow drive that wrapped around the inn, she could not help but notice the array of signs, leaflets, and handbills nailed up all along the tall wooden fence. She ignored postings of the tavern’s menu and countless advertisements for the town’s various shops, but her gaze homed in on a freshly inked
Wanted
poster nailed up in a prominent position.
It featured a very poor sketch of Thaydor’s face.
With a furious glare, she leaned out from the driver’s seat and tore it off the wall as she passed. She glimpsed the words
Bounty
,
Urmugoths
and
Beware! Armed and Dangerous
, before she spotted the most shocking word of all along the bottom.
Treason.
“What rubbish!” she cried aloud, enraged. Folding it roughly in half, she tucked it under her backside to keep it from blowing away. She’d examine it later. There was no time right now to learn the details of whatever trumped-up charges they had dreamed up against him, but it didn’t look good.
She couldn’t believe it. The king’s champion, the most honorable man in Veraidel was now a fugitive with a bounty on his head?
Then she urged Polly out onto the street and turned left toward the town gates. The soldiers were already trying to close them, shooing people either out or in. Obviously, they wanted Thaydor trapped within the town walls so they could corner him. Wrynne felt sick just thinking about it.
She did not know what she was going to do. But the first thing was to obey his orders and get this wagon outside the gates. Pedestrians, but no carriages, blocked her way as she hurried Polly onto the bridge.
“Let me through!” she hollered as the gates, still wide, swung slowly toward each other.
“Sorry, mistress, you’ll have to wait!”
“I can’t wait! I’m a healer. There’s an outbreak of fever down in Butterdale! I’m on my way to help them. I just stopped into town to buy some medicine. Now, let me go to them or people are going to die!”
He eyed her simple clothes and spotted the necklace identifying her as a Daughter of the Rose and gave in. “Oh, very well. Hurry up!” He waved her through impatiently. Distracted by all the excitement of everyone looking for Thaydor, the sentry did not notice the very fine white warhorse trotting along behind the humble carriage.
Unhappy about lying
again
—though once more, she’d had no choice—Wrynne held her breath as she drove over the bridge, glancing back to ensure Avalanche made it through, as well. To her relief, the towering gates closed inches behind the horse’s swishing ivory tail.
Turning off the bridge and back onto the road, she picked up the pace, urging Polly into a trot. She looked over her shoulder in distress, wondering how Thaydor was ever going to get out of there, past that heartless assassin.
Whether or not her dream about Reynulf was true, it was no mystery why he would’ve been willing to carry out this deceitful warrant. Of course, he was only following orders, but every knight had ambition, and with Thaydor out of the way, Reynulf would finally be the top knight in the kingdom. She would bet he’d already been promised the role of royal champion.
Eyes narrowed, she shook her head angrily and finally slowed the carriage, pulling over to the side of the road about a half-mile south of the town.
Now what do I do?
It was hard to think clearly in her rattled state. Even if he had already escaped, which she doubted, he would still have to find her and the wagon.
Unless I go find him.
She’d brought her staff. Using the
hasten
spell three times in a row could have her back inside the town walls.
I can get him out of there.
It was not the most appetizing prospect, and he might not like seeing her there again. Eadric had come after him on the battlefield, after all, which was how he had ended up in pieces. However, she knew it would work.
She briskly decided this was the best plan, perhaps the
only
plan at this point. Scanning the woods alongside the road, she picked an opening between the trees wide enough to fit the wagon.
She jumped down off the driver’s seat and took hold of Polly’s bridle, murmuring assurances to the bay mare as she led her on foot into the forest. Avalanche followed with the cart. Once she had walked the horses several yards into the woods, she tied Polly to a tree. She stilled her mind as best she could under the circumstances and cast a sanctuary spell to hide them.
Making sure the horses were content, she got her staff off the back of the wagon and then walked out to the road. From this vantage point, the horses and wagon were invisible. The only evidence left behind were the wagon tracks where she had left the road. She kicked dust over the telltale tracks, then memorized the location, marking the spot in her mind by the half-fallen pine tree that appeared to have been hit by lightning long ago.
Hold on, Thaydor. Don’t get yourself killed again, my friend. I’m on my way.
With that, Wrynne closed her eyes, gripped her jewel-headed staff, banged it lightly on the ground, and whispered, “
Hasten
.”
Landing about a thousand feet up the empty road, she took a breath to steady the slight vertigo, then she did it again. The third jump would put her inside the walls of Toad Hollow. She thought for a moment about where to land, then bumped her staff on the ground once more and whispered the command.
Poof!
She was dizzy when she popped back into materiality in an alley across from the market. With a queasy groan, she clutched her stomach.
Ugh, I really need to learn a proper travel spell.
Hasten
was really just intended for very short distances—emergency escapes and the like. Even so, her little spell had got her there faster than even Avalanche could have carried her, and fortunately, no one had seen her arrive.
Trying to regain her balance, she strode out of the alley and looked around amid the still-seething chaos.
“Thaydor?” she shouted, searching the scene before her. She checked the market, striding past the aisles to see if he was in there somewhere, but no. She peered into the surrounding streets, as well, then suddenly spotted him running across the rooftops, sword in hand.
A little taken aback, she shook her head to herself.
So that’s how he means to get over the wall. Madman.
Thankfully, the blade of Hallowsmite was not yet bloody, but still bright and clean from what she could see.
She shifted her gaze down to the ground where the soldiers chased after him, swarming the adjoined buildings atop which the Golden Knight dashed, sure-footed as a cat. How he balanced atop the peaked roof ridges, she had no idea.
But his escape plan wasn’t going to work.
From where she stood, she could see what he could not yet—a large gap lay between the houses and the top of the wall. It was too wide to jump. Even for him.
The soldiers were yelling at him to come down and at one another, reporting which way he was going. Reynulf looked on in amusement, leaning by a post out of the way and casually drinking a tankard of ale, as though he merely meant to let the soldiers wear their quarry out before he stepped in to take Thaydor into custody.
What infuriating arrogance!
Wrynne glared at Reynulf, then scowled to see that his men had shackles at the ready. Closing in on Thaydor from both sides on the ground, they had even brought out a man-catcher on a long wooden pole.
How dare they?
The hero of the kingdom, and they’d clap that contraption around his neck as though he were a rabid dog? Wrynne thumped her staff angrily on the cobblestones and magically whooshed up onto the roof a few yards ahead of him.
Thaydor, running straight at her, nearly fell off it in his astonishment. “Wrynne?”
“Hullo, dear. Having fun?” she inquired as she used her staff to steady herself atop the narrow roof ridge.
“What are you doing here?” he cried, waving his arms to catch his balance.
“Rescuing you, Sir Knight. Take my hand.” Fighting the dizziness that came with the spell—and probably with the simple fact of standing on a rooftop—she stretched out her hand, waiting for him to reach her. Below, the soldiers fell into ever-greater chaos at this new arrival.
“A sorceress!” someone shrieked. The whole town gawked at her, some of the people falling back in fear.
“Look, sir! He’s got a witch helping him!”
She had got the red knight’s full attention. “Who is that?” Reynulf demanded.
One of the market vendors squinted. “I recognize that woman! It’s the Maid of the Mount! She’s got Ilian magic!”
Reynulf snorted. “Kill her,” he ordered. “He’s the only one we need alive.”
“Archerrrrs!” the captain bellowed, waving his arm to signal his men.
“Thaydor!” Wrynne cried, only to lose her balance when she jerked too fast to look at the archers taking aim at her.
“Wrynne!” Thaydor caught her hand as she teetered wildly, planting his foot atop a dormer to save them both. He yanked her to his chest, then turned to the soldiers, his sword raised in a frantic gesture of surrender. “Don’t shoot! Hold your fire! Let her go! I’m coming down!”
“Oh, no, you’re not!” she muttered, clinging to him.
“What are you do—” His words broke off and he cursed as they both started falling in earnest, their arms wrapped around each other.
“
Hasten!
” Wrynne clunked her staff awkwardly on the roof tiles as they plunged earthward.