“Waiting!” complained Quentin darkly to Durwin as they trudged back to the hiding place. “We have come all this way only to wait while they rescue him. It isn’t fair.”
Although he had not thought about it before, he had naturally assumed that he would be there when the King was rescued. Only now when that prospect was denied did he feel cheated.
“I dare say it isn’t fair at all,” sympathized Alinea. “But the Queen is glad for the company of her protectors.”
“I am sorry,” blustered Quentin. “I did not mean…”
“I understand,” she cut him off. “You had every right to be there. But we must all play our part as we are given it. And I am grateful, really. I could not have endured that dungeon cell a moment longer. You have rendered your Queen a great service once again. I shall never forget it.”
At this Quentin brightened somewhat, and took his task more seriously. But the walk back down along the ridge was uneventful, and they reached the shelter of the woods without incident. Trenn grumped along behind: he, too, was miffed at being led away with what he considered the old men, women, and children.
They stopped to wait in the small glade, off the road and well hidden, but within easy sight of the dreadful castle soaring above on its crag of rock. The spot afforded a clear view of both the ridge and the road below. Each settled down and Durwin closed his eyes and drifted promptly off to sleep.
They waited. The minutes dawdled along maddeningly. Then an hour. And another. It was too much for Quentin, who jumped out into the road at frequent intervals to see if anyone was coming. Trenn was certain something had gone wrong and that they should all go rushing back to the aid of their freshly-captured comrades.
Gradually, the sun slipped lower in the afternoon sky. Quentin watched as a long caravan of clouds made its way in from the west. He had decided to give the rescuers until the last cloud had passed over the castle before going after them-against all orders to the contrary.
He was saved from this dereliction of his duties by the appearance of figures on the ridge.
“Here they come!” he fairly shouted. Toli, who had been scouting the road below, came running back, and Trenn and Alinea jumped back into the road to see.
“Yes, someone is coming, all right. But I cannot see-how many are there? Can you tell?” Trenn squinted his eyes against the sun, now shining level along the ridge.
Quentin could not see that far either, so he turned to Toli who peered intently for a moment and then announced, “Lea nol epra. Rhunsar en Teedo.”
“What did he say?” asked Trenn, anxiously. The Queen said nothing, only clasped her hands under her chin and closed her eyes.
“He said there were only two. Ronsard and Theido. The King is not with them,” replied Quentin. “I am sorry, my Lady.”
Shortly, Theido and Ronsard drew up. Theido, puffing from his run down the steep path, said between gulps of air, “He is not there. The King is gone. We searched the entire castle-even forced the chamberlain, who we caught napping, to open all the closets. He said they had gone, all of them, with Nimrood. Though who ‘all of them’ were he did not know.”
“Are you certain?” cried Trenn. His anguish was real enough and spoke for them all. “There might be ten thousand places to hide a man up there.”
“And we searched ten thousand!” snapped Ronsard. Disappointment darkened his brow. “He was not there, I tell you.”
“Yes, you are right,” replied Durwin who had been unusually quiet all this time. Quentin thought he had gone to sleep.
“I have been sifting the ether for a sign. I sense no trace of the King’s presence. The chamberlain, it seems, is telling the truth. The devious Nimrood has taken his prize with him. I should have guessed as much.”
“It makes sense,” Ronsard admitted grudgingly. “That is why we met with no resistance when entering the castle.”
“And none leaving,” said Theido. “Now we have to find a way off this accursed isle.”
“That, too, should not prove difficult,” offered Quentin. “Perhaps the ship that brought Toli and me still lays in the bay.”
“Excellent! Quentin has provided us with a ship. To the beach.”
“It is not a large ship,” said Quentin apologetically.
“I don’t care if it is a bucket with oars,” crowed Theido. “As long as it takes us far away, it will suit me. Lead the way.”
Quentin and Toli led them off at once, Toli darting ahead along the trail to scout the path ahead, lest they meet the returning soldiers. But the path was clear, and by the time their shadows had grown long upon the dust of the trail they reached the thinly wooded area rimming the bay.
“It is beyond here a little way,” whispered Quentin. “Just beyond those trees. Toli will go see what is to be seen.” He threw Toli a quick sign and the forest dweller vanished in the wink of an eye, melting into the dappled patches of light and dark thrown down by the oncoming dusk.
In a moment he was back. He spoke a few words to Quentin while the others looked on anxiously. Quentin turned and said, “The ship is there…” Then he squelched the kindled hopes of the former captives. “But so are the soldiers. Toli says they have set up camp on the beach.”
“Strange,” wondered Theido. “Why would they do that?”
“That, at least is why they were not to be seen at the castle,” offered Ronsard.
“Hmph!” snorted Trenn. “How many are there? We are more than a match for them be they ten to one.”
“I would agree with you, but for the fact that we have no weapons.”
“The day is fading; it will be dark soon,” said Durwin.
“Perhaps something will present itself between now and then.”
The fellowship settled down to await the cover of night. But no sooner had they made themselves comfortable than Durwin jumped up. “I have it! The perfect diversion!”
“Shhh! We won’t require a diversion if your shouting brings those beach rats,” snapped Trenn.
Durwin paid him no attention. He cast an eye at a patch of sky overhead. “Quickly! We have but little time. We need to gather some things.” He assigned each one an item to fetch from the woods: bark from certain trees, leaves of a certain type, stones which might be found, and other ordinary items. “Hurry now! And bring me all you find.”
By the time the sun had set Durwin had amassed a small mountain of these raw materials. He set to work shredding and pulverizing, breaking and husking, mixing and sorting the substances into appropriate piles. As the first star of the evening appeared, he announced, “So it is! We are ready at last.”
“Theido and Ronsard, creep to the edge of the wood to the sand. Dig a hole, so,” he indicated the size, “three of them-one on either side of the path leading into the wood from the beach, and one in the center of the path.”
“Quentin and Toli, each of you take some of this,” he scooped up an armload of the stuff, “and follow me. Trenn, Alinea-gather firewood and come to the edge of the beach where we will dig.”
At these words everyone leapt to action. When the holes were dug in the sand and approved by Durwin, the shallow depressions were filled with the things Durwin had requested, carefully arranged in layers with painstaking patience. Then Durwin took his leather pouch and emptied the contents over the three mounds.
On the beach, the soldiers had started a fire and were cooking an evening meal. Coarse laughter and snatches of their crude conversation drifted to where the party worked in silence under the watchful eye of Trenn who had been posted to watch lest any of the men on the beach take it into their heads to pass into the woods.