“Leave the keep here just as it is-and take all your men. If everything goes as planned you will have troops back here long before anyone knows we have gone. We march at midnight, silent as vengeful spirits, to be in positions of concealment at dawn, as close to Capo Doccia’s. keep as is possible. I know just the spot. When the drawbridge is opened at dawn I shall use your new machine to see that it stays open. Your troops attack, take the keep by surprise-and the day is won. As soon as you have captured the keep you can send a strong force back here.” “It could happen that way. But horv do you plan to stop them closing the drawbridge?” As I told him the wicked grin spread across his face and he whooped with joy.
“Do it!” he shouted, “and I shall make you rich for life. With Doccia’s groats of course, after I loot his treasury.” “You are kindness itself to your humble servant. May I then suggest that all in the keep be persuaded to rest, for it will be a long night?” “Yes, that will be done. The orders will be issued.” After that I slipped away. Other than my natural concern for the tired bodies of my comrades I had other reasons for wishing all of them in their beds. I had a few important tasks to perform before I could get any rest myself.
’Tools,” I told Dreng when I had rousted him out. “Files, hammers, anything like that. Where would I find them here?” He shoved a finger deep into his matted hair and scratched hard in thought. I resisted the urge to reach out and shake him and waited instead until the slow processes had crawled to a finish. Perhaps the fingernail rasping on skull helped his sluggish synapses to flinction. It would be best not to interfere with an established practice. Eventually he spoke.
“I don’t have any tools.” “I know, dear boy.” I could hear my teeth grate together and forced myself to keep control. “You don’t have tools, but someone here must. Who would that be?” “Blacksmith,” he said proudly. “The blacksmith always has tools.” “Good lad. Now, would you kindly lead the way to this blacksmith?” The individual in question was sooty and hairy and in a foul mood, sour wine strong on his breath.
“Hiss off, runt. No one touches Grundge’s tools, no one.” Runt indeed! I did not have to force the snarl and growl. “Listen you filthy piece offlab-those are the cape’s tools, not your tools. And the capo sent me for them. Now either I take them now or my knave goes to bring the capo here. Shall I do that?” He closed his fists and growled, then hesitated. Like everyone else, he had seen me drive the capo into the keep and knew I was his confidant. He couldn’t take any chances on crossing his boss. He began to bob up and down bowing and scraping.
“Certainly, master. Grundge knows his place. Tools, sure, take tools. Over here, whatever you want.” I pushed past his sweaty form to the dismal display of primitive devices. Pathetic! I kicked through the pile until I found a file, hammer, and clumsy metal snips that would have to do. I pushed them towards Dreng.
“Take these. And you, Grundge, can crawl over in the morning to the barn and get them back.” Dreng followed after me, then gaped up in awe at the steam cart.
“Close your mouth before you catch some flies,” I told him, seizing the tools. “What I’ll need next is a stout bag or sack of some kind, about this big. Scout one out and bring it to me here. Then get to bed because you will not be getting much sleep tonight.” With proper tools I could have done the job in no time at all. But I had a feeling that tolerances wouldn’t be that exact here and as long as I was close to the model it would be all right. The metal siding next to the drivers seat was roughly the thickness of the wooden key. I cut and filed and hacked a portion of it into shape. It would have to do.
Dreng-and hopefully everyone else-was now asleep and I could begin Operation Great-groat. With the key in my pocket, the bag tucked into my waist, silent as a shadow-1 hoped-1 made way into the depths of the keep. I had memorized The Bishop’s map and his spirit must have been watching after me for I found the treasury without being seen. I slipped the key into the lock, crossed the fingers of my free hand, and turned.
With a metallic screech it clanked open. My heart did its usual pounding-in-chest routine while I stood rooted there. The noise must have been heard.
But it hadn’t been. The door creaked slightly when I opened it and then I was inside the vault and easing it shut behind me.
It was beautiful. High, barred windows let in enough light so I could see the big chests against the far wall. I had done my fiscal research well, getting a look at a braggard’s store of groats, so I knew just what to look for.
The first chest was stuffed with brass groats, my fingers could distinguish their thick forms in the darkness. In logical progression I found silver groats in the next chest and I shoveled my bag half full of them. As I did this I saw a smaller chest tucked in behind this one. I smiled into the darkness as I groped and felt the angled shapes within. Golden groats-and lots of them. This was going to be a very successful heist after all. I only stopped shoveling when the bag became too heavy. Beware oT greed. With this bit of advice to myself I threw it over my shoulder and let myself out just the way I had come in.
There were guards in the courtyard but they never saw me as I slipped into the barn. I turned on the instrument limits of the car, which provided more than enough illumination for me to see by. I opened the storage locker below and put the money bag into place. As I closed it I was overwhelmed by a great sensation of relief. In my mind’s eye I slid out another rook to join the first. The chess game was going as planned and mate was clearly visible ahead.
“Now, Jim,” I advised. “Get your head down and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an exceedingly busy day. “
Chapter 29
I muttered and slapped and rolled over but the irritation persisted. Eventually” I biinked my grimy eyes open and growled up at Dreng who was shaking my shoulder. He stepped away in fear.
“Do not beat me, master-1 am only doing as you instructed. It is time to waken for the troops are assembling now in the courtyard. “ I growled something incoherent and this turned into a cough. When I did this a cup appeared before me and I drank deep of the cool water, then dropped back onto the bunk. Not for the first time did I approve of the knave system. But I was beat, hushed, fatigued. Even the stamina of youth can be sapped by adversity. I shook my head rapidly, then sat up on my elbows, angry at myself for the brief moment of self-pity.
“Go, good Dreng,” I ordered, “and find me food to nourish my hungry cells. And some drink as well since alcohol is the only stimulant these premises seem to have.” I splashed cold water over my head in the courtyard, gasping and spluttering. As I wiped my face dry I saw in the clear starlight the ranks of soldiers being drawn up as the ammunition was being issued. The great adventure was about to begin. Dreng was waiting when I returned. I sat on my bunk and ate a pretty repellent breakfast of fried dinglebeans washed down by the destructive wine. I talked between gruesome mouthfuls because this was the last private moment I would have with my knave. “Dreng, your military career is about to end.” “Don’t kill me, master!” “Military career, idiot-not your life. Tonight is your last night of service and in the morn you will be off home with your pay. Where does your old dad hide his money?” “We are too poor to have any groats.” “I am sure of that. But if he had any-where would he put it?” This was a complicated thought and he puzzled over it while I chewed and swallowed. He finally spoke.