"I was a prisoner in a dungeon cell before Oberon brought me here. I know that he keeps a master key ring there, in the catacombs below," the lady offered. "The chief warden-he's a big brute of an ogre-keeps it on his belt. You'll usually find him sleeping on a bench right outside the main guard room."
Ariakas sank on the bed, heavy with despair. "Below the castle? I am willing, but I must warn you the chances of my capture are great."
"There's another way. Often Oberon visits me by the secret stairway, avoiding the main part of the castle. It's concealed in the outer wall, and will take you all the way down."
New hope infused the warrior. He rose to his feet eagerly. "Where-where is this passage?"
She pointed to a heavy curtain of pale blue velvet. "Draw that aside. Then push on one of those stones above your head-as high as you can reach."
He soon found the catch-stone, and a panel of wall soundlessly slid sideways to reveal a small landing and a tight, narrow stairway curving downward to the left. His sword held before him, he turned toward the concealed passage.
Then, in a moment of decision, he turned and crossed back to the bed, kneeling again beside her. The lady's face invited him, only a few inches away. Her lips were still parted slightly, shining with excitement or desire.
Without hesitation, he seized her and kissed her. She melted into his arms, and met his mouth with a fiery force of her own, a force that set the blood to racing in his veins. Even his scar was forgotten.
A fierce grin lit his face as he turned back to the secret door. He felt that he could face any adversary, any chal shy;lenge, if only to win the chance to hold her again.
Chapter 5
Ferros Windchisel
Reaching upward, Ariakas again found the catch-stone for the door. When he released it the portal slipped quietly shut behind him-and plunged the entire landing into utter darkness.
His sword sheathed, Ariakas felt for the top step with his foot while he balanced with his hands against the walls. Finding the edge of the landing, he took a step downward, and another. The stairs circled through a regu shy;lar spiral, so he soon found that he could move fairly rapidly even through the darkness. He knew that if he came to a missing step or some other obstacle, he ran the risk of injury, but he couldn't bear the thought of the lady remaining a prisoner any longer than absolutely necessary.
For a long time the stairs circled steadily downward. Ariakas noticed several narrow, slitted windows that served to admit such gleams of starlight as spilled from the night sky. Nevertheless, as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he found that even this dim illumination gave him the ability to speed his descent.
After some time he came to another small landing. A quick investigation showed him a concealed door lead shy;ing into the interior of the keep. He decided to risk open shy;ing the portal to learn all he could about their prospective escape route.
True to his suspicions, the door opened into one of the huge, column-studded rooms that lay below the lady's chamber. Quickly he closed the door and started down shy;ward again. He passed several other landings, mentally ticking off the floors, and then he stopped to open another door.
This time the portal slid aside to reveal a masking tapestry. Ariakas was about to pull the curtain aside when he heard the muted grumbling of ogre voices. Cautiously, he peered around the edge of the cloth. He had reached the small room containing the drawbridge machinery. Two ogres stood beside a tall window, where the great winch-chain fed outward to the bridge. The main door to the room still hung ajar, only a few paces from the secret entrance. Ariakas grimaced in thought; certainly these two guards created an obstacle.
He silently continued down the stairway, passing sev shy;eral more levels, until his memory told him he had reached the main entry hall of the tower. Where Ariakas had left two ogres bickering at the gate, he now heard raucous sounds of ogre merriment, ranging from bel shy;lowed curses to hearty, stone-shaking laughter. Quite a party, it seemed, had developed around the main gates.
He turned away from the ribald ogres and descended farther, through several long spirals with no sign of any alcove or landing. The passage now was completely dark, and-frustrated by the enforced slowness of his pace-Ariakas felt a need for caution. He groped with his toe for each step, all the while keeping hands on the side walls to ensure balance.
Finally he felt a space to his right, and at the same time the air took on a dank, claustrophobic character that told him he had entered a region some distance underground. Feeling his way out of the stairwell, he moved carefully along a narrow corridor. The passageway abruptly veered to the right, and a faint glimmer of light rounded a corner before him. The intensity of the illumination rose and fell as if it came from a flickering torch. Impatient, Ariakas forced himself to remain still and listen.
The light before him continued to brighten and dim, though he could hear no sound of flame. Gradually, however, he discerned a deep, rhythmic noise. The sound resembled a low growl, drawn out for a long time before it ceased. Then, after a similar interval, the growl came again…. Snoring! The depth of the tone suggested a large nose and deep, resonant chest. It didn't take much imagination for Ariakas to picture an ogre guard slumbering beside the torch, just out of his sight. Could this be the chief warden the lady had described?
Gradually he became aware of other features of his surroundings. The corridor before him was narrow, but not so tight as the stairwell. Darkened niches stood at regular intervals along the walls, and in them stood the doors of countless cells. Apparently only one guard kept watch, and not very well at that.
Creeping forward/Ariakas encountered something the dim light had not revealed: a cluster of rubble on the floor, through which his foot scuffed loudly. The noise echoed like thunder through the dungeon hallway, but Ariakas heard no disruption in the vast snoring. Care shy;fully, he worked his way along the hall. A few steps car shy;ried him past several heavy cell doors to an intersection with the side corridor.
Around the corner, an obese ogre slumbered on a long wooden bench, a torch in a wall sconce flickering and flaming above him. Beyond another row of shadowy cells, the corridor ended in an open door, and another flight of stairs led upward.
He took a step around the corner, taking care to move as silently as possibly. He would have to tiptoe right up to the ogre to get the keys, but he was willing to take that chance.
"Ssssst! Hey, you out there!"
The whispered voice froze his feet to their tracks. Whipping his head around, he saw no sign of anyone in the corridor with him.
"Help me-I need your help!"
Again the words, which might have emerged from the ether for as much as Ariakas could discern their source. Angrily he stepped back around the corner, out of the slumbering ogre's line of sight.
"Who is that?" he hissed.
"In here," replied the whispering voice-more a croak, now that Ariakas listened carefully. It seemed to emerge from the cell door he had just passed.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Water … need water," came the voice.
"I can't help you," Ariakas replied. "Be silent!"
"Help me-or I'll make more noise than you can believe."
Seething, Ariakas looked at the door to the cell. The portal was solid iron, with a small hatch over a narrow opening-barely space enough to slide in a cup or a bowl. Pressing his face to the opening, he saw nothing more than darkness beyond.
"Who are you?" he demanded again. The prisoner was obviously an enemy of the ogres, but that was no guarantee Ariakas would find him to be a friend.
"My name is Ferros Windchisel-and all I ask is a cup of water!"