The guards’ faces creased with confusion. All of the mage cells were the same. One guard shrugged his indifference while the other pointed to the girls’ cell. Tamar walked past the two guards, causing them to turn around to see what he was doing. When Tamar suddenly halted and turned around again to face the two guards, he had a broad smile on his lips.
“I am sorry to cause you this inconvenience,” Tamar shrugged, “but I am sure in time you will come to understand the necessity of it. I need two cells opened, the one that is occupied, and another. Hand me the keys, please.”
By captivating the attention of the guards, Tamar had allowed his men to be placed behind them. Knives suddenly appeared at the throats of the two guards. One of the guards extended his arm slowly towards Tamar. In his hand was a ring with two keys. Tamar took the ring of keys.
“There are only two keys,” the guard said anxiously, “one for the mage cells, and one for the other cells. The larger one is for the mage cells. Why are you doing this?”
“Because Alahara and Alastasia do not belong in cells,” Tamar stated as he unlocked an empty cell. “You will not be harmed unless you try to stop us. Get in the cell.”
The knives at the throats of the guards were removed and the guards slowly stepped into the cell. One of the guards turned towards Tamar after he entered.
“Who are Alahara and Alastasia?” he asked. “Our only prisoners are the foreign girls.”
“They are the lost princesses,” declared Tamar as he closed the door and locked it.
Tamar walked to the door of the girls’ cell and inserted the key. He waved to his men to hug the wall before he turned the key and unlocked the door. Then he backed away from the door and waited.
Inside the cell, Mistake and MistyTrail became instantly alert when they heard the key in the lock. Mistake dashed for one side of the doorway while MistyTrail dashed to the other. The princesses waited for the door to open. Several long seconds passed and nothing happened. Mistake frowned at MistyTrail. MistyTrail shook her head and shrugged. More seconds slowly expired and still nothing happened.
Slowly, Mistake’s hand rose to the door. She pulled slightly on it and felt it move. She froze and waved for MistyTrail to get behind her. MistyTrail crept past the doorway and crouched behind Mistake.
“I am going to open it,” Mistake whispered. “Be ready to move when I do.”
MistyTrail nodded, but Mistake did not see her. She was already tensing to throw the door open. In a burst of speed, Mistake threw the door open and dove into the corridor. She rolled across the floor and came up in a crouch with a knife in each hand. MistyTrail swiftly moved to occupy the doorframe. She also held a knife in each hand. Tamar stood against the wall. He was grinning broadly.
“Tamar?” gasped Mistake. “Why are you here?”
“To rescue the princesses,” he grinned. “Let’s get back inside the cell. You have to change clothes.”
Mistake looked past Tamar at the squad of soldiers lined up along the wall. Tamar saw the concern in her gaze.
“These men are loyal to me,” Tamar said as he waved the prisoner forward.
The prisoner’s hood had already been removed and his hands untied. Without the hood and bindings, he looked like any other soldier. He unslung the large pack on his back and handed it to Tamar. Tamar handed it to Mistake.
“Put these uniforms on and hurry,” ordered Tamar. “We have already been in here too long for my liking. Put your own packs into the big one. We will straighten it all out after we are outside the city.”
Mistake dashed into the room. She dared not close the door, but Tamar stood in the doorway with his back to the girls. They swiftly changed their clothes and stuffed their packs into the large pack.
“We are ready,” Mistake said as she and MistyTrail exited the room and handed the pack to Tamar.
“Good,” Tamar replied as he signaled for his men to form two columns. “I hope you have some ability for marching in formation. I like my columns to look sharp. Get in the middle of the columns.”
The girls ran and inserted themselves into the columns. Tamar closed the door to their cell and marched to the front of the columns. He nodded to his men and the columns marched for the exit. They passed through the regular cellblock and the corridors leading to it. They reached the exit from the prison and two guards held the doors for them. As the column marched out of the prison, one of the guards called out to Tamar.
“Why are you taking his pack out with you?” asked the guard.
Tamar separated from the column as he signaled for them to continue marching.
“I considered it too dangerous to leave with him,” Tamar replied to the guard.
Another guard tapped the first guard’s arm and pointed at the column leaving the prison grounds.
“There were only ten plus a prisoner and the officer when they entered,” he said excitedly. “Now there are fourteen of them.”
The four guards tensed and drew their swords. Tamar shouted to his men as he turned and ran for his life. A whistle blew somewhere behind Tamar, and he knew that word would spread quickly. Soon the streets of Morada would be filled with soldiers searching for the treasonous column of soldiers. He looked over his shoulder and saw that his pursuers were not as physically fit as he was. Already their mouths were open, gasping for air, while Tamar felt as if the race had not yet begun. He caught up to his column of men and shouted terse orders.
The two columns immediately split up, each going in a different direction. Tamar continued to run straight ahead and dashed into an alleyway. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and see what his pursuers would do. The four guards stopped and gazed in both directions. One of the guards took command of the others. He started shouting orders and pointing. Tamar frowned at the shouted orders. While the prison guards were out of shape, they were not dim-witted. Instead of following either of the two columns, they were alerting the city guard. Within minutes the city would be shut down. Tamar knew he had to move quickly. He turned and ran for the rendezvous point.
The city of Morada was not a walled city. Lush forests surrounded it with well-worn paths leading to the outlying villages. At the edge of the city was a very old wooden house. The sole occupant of the house was an ancient woman who had no eyeballs, a result of magic gone awry. She lived in solitude, never wandering out except to harvest her garden. If she had any neighbors, they would have thought it strange to see a dozen soldiers open the door and file into her house.
The blind woman heard the door open and listened intently to the sounds of footsteps crossing her threshold. She walked into the kitchen and took a spare mug off the shelf. She moved with precision steps in the small kitchen and took a pot of boiling tea off the fire. She carried the pot and the cup into the main room of the small house and set it on the table.
“I only have one spare cup for the tea,” the old woman said. “I am afraid that you will have to share.”
Another set of footsteps crossed the room after closing the door. He smiled at the old woman even though it was obvious that she could not see him.
“Thank you, Gamara,” said Tamar. “I am sorry that we had to intrude like this on your solitude, but I am grateful that you have allowed us to.”
“Are they among you?” asked Gamara.
“They are,” replied Tamar as he took Mistake and MistyTrail by the arms and led them towards the old woman. “I do not know which is which,” he added as he took the old woman’s hands and placed them on the shoulders of Mistake and MistyTrail, “but Alahara and Alastasia stand before you.”
“Kaltara bless you both,” smiled the old woman as her hands ran up the faces of the girls, memorizing their features. “Twins they are. I can feel it.”
“Has Garl arrived?” asked Tamar.
“Not yet,” replied Gamara. “He will be by soon. He always keeps his word.”