“Walter!” I yelled in warning, “It’s coming from behind you!” A loud explosion answered my cry and a thunderous roar followed. Walter had brought down the tunnel. Dust filled the air and we waited for what seemed an eternity for the rumbling of falling rock to cease.
When the dust had settled the three of us were trapped inside the cavern, with no open route to the surface. The tunnel that Walter had collapsed had been the only way in or out. Thankfully Walter had hidden his presence and the creature had merely run past him. For now, we were alone.
“What now?” Harold asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over us.
I opened my pouch and drew out the silver stylus that was quickly becoming my favorite tool. It would be much easier to create the teleportation circle using it rather than my hands or staff. I held it up dramatically and looked at my tired and emotionally drained companions. Fear is one of the most exhausting emotions. For some reason their weariness sparked my perverse sense of humor. “With this,” I began dramatically, “we can cut our way through the rock and take the enemy from behind!” I grinned and waited for their reactions.
Walter couldn’t even reply, his jaw simply fell open. Harold was more pragmatic, wiping his sword blades off he sheathed them before commenting… “How did Dorian survive childhood with you?”
I decided to revise my previous estimation of Harold; he was definitely developing a nasty case of sarcasm. “I was joking. Give me half an hour and I’ll have us back in Lancaster.”
“Why not take us back to the Duke’s camp?” asked the burly warrior.
I shrugged, “I can’t. There isn’t a circle there.”
“If you leave a circle here that thing may be able to use it,” Walter pointed out.
I opened my magical pouch again and this time I drew a set of two small round objects wrapped together in a small square of paper, one made of glass and the other of iron. “These are a matched set,” I told him. “I created a lot of these for the war with Gododdin but I still keep a few handy. They are similar to the necklace I put on you a while back. Smash the glass bead and the iron one explodes. I’ll place the iron one near the circle before we teleport away. Once we’re safely in Lancaster I’ll smash the glass bead and destroy the circle.” I smiled smugly; I was rather pleased with myself for thinking up such a neat solution. Honestly though I hadn’t thought it up on the spot, I had spent some time considering such problems after some channelers had used one of my previous circles to invade Castle Cameron.
Harold whistled appraisingly, “Dorian was right.”
“About what?” I asked.
“He said you were too dangerous to be allowed to run free without a babysitter,” he explained.
“Was this when he explained why you were being stuck with guarding me?”
Harold grinned and nodded but Walter interrupted before we could say anything else. “Excuse me…” he said mildly. Once he was sure we had paused he continued, “How many of these explosive devices do you carry about on your person? Aren’t you worried you’ll trip and blow us all to bits of bone and jam?”
I chuckled at his odd turn of phrase. It was a valid question though, especially since I hadn’t shown him my special pouch. I drew it out again and opened the top. Rather than explain I demonstrated by pushing my arm into the bag. Although it appeared to be no more than eight inches deep I was easily able to put my arm into it until my shoulder reached the mouth of the purse. From his perspective it now appeared as if most of my arm had been amputated. “I keep all my dangerous surprises stored far from my person,” I informed him.
The look on his face was priceless, but I didn’t say anything else. I got busy working on our way out. I didn’t think any of us wanted to spend any more time in our subterranean prison.
Chapter 38
Cyhan followed the king down a long flight of stairs. He had been summoned late at night but he was used to such odd hours. During his years of service Edward had often needed him to serve in various capacities at times when most common men were long abed. Tonight was unusual in that the King was leading him through a circuitous route. The stairs they were on now led down from the outer palace wall and reached the courtyard near where the infrequently used postern gate stood.
The implication was obvious; Edward planned to meet someone secretly at the gate. Cyhan’s presence was purely for protection. If the King had wanted him to serve in a more aggressive role he would have been given more warning and time for preparation.
As they reached the gate the King addressed him, “The ones we will be meeting are dangerous but they should keep to their word unless I am mistaken. They will be bringing hostages, two of them. You merely need to keep them secure until the priests arrive.” While he was speaking Cyhan noted that the gate was open and the night duty guards were absent.
The veteran warrior understood immediately. This wasn’t the first time he had been asked to perform such a role. The fact that the priests would be arriving to take charge of the prisoners meant that the king wanted these ‘guests’ kept discretely in a place where none would think to find them. Edward had kept a number of such hostages over the years. What was unusual was the fact that the king had chosen to receive such prisoners without any other guards.
“Your majesty,” said Cyhan carefully, “I cannot guarantee your safety and secure the prisoners at the same time by myself.”
“We understand that,” answered the King. “Just make sure the prisoners are kept safely until the brothers arrive. There will be no treachery tonight.”
Other than our own, thought Cyhan. Given the timing he had a good idea who the prisoners might be though it still didn’t explain Edward’s obsessive need for secrecy. The King had a number of guards that could be trusted in such situations, and in the past he had used them. Something about tonight was different, so different that he needed to hide the details even from his most trusted guards. Except me, for my oath is my life.
They waited a short time, less than a quarter of an hour before several heavily cloaked figures entered through the open gate. Between them they had two people, bound and being led on short chains. All in all there were eight of them escorting the two prisoners. The prisoners were also cloaked but their faces were only partly hidden by the deep hoods and Cyhan was fairly certain that his suspicions were correct regarding their identities.
The king stepped forward confidently, “Let me see their faces. I need to be sure they are who you claim them to be.”
The voice that answered was a woman’s, though her speech was oddly inflected, as if she wasn’t used to speaking regularly. “Of course your Majesty, it shall be as you say. We do not wish you to suspect us of any trickery.” Despite her strange intonation Cyhan thought she sounded somewhat familiar.
Hands reached up and pulled the prisoner’s hoods aside, removing any doubt as to their identities. Standing before them were the Countess di’Cameron and Sir Dorian Thornbear. They appeared unharmed but their eyes were a bit wild around the edges. Penny’s gaze immediately locked upon Cyhan. “Snake! I should have known you’d be here serving your…,” she said vehemently but she was interrupted by one of her captors.
“Silence,” the strange woman’s voice broke in as she held up a finger in front of Penny’s face. The countess’s eyes locked upon that finger as it drew close to her cheek, and a look of intense fear and loathing was evident in her visage. Penny promptly closed her mouth while drawing her head back to avoid her captor’s touch.
Dorian struggled beside her, but he was tightly bound and gagged, even so he managed to pull away from those holding him for a moment and struck the woman threatening Penny with his shoulder. She stumbled backward as the two holding his chains pulled and tugged to get him back under control. The motion caused her hood to fall away and for a moment her face was clearly visible to Cyhan in the dim moonlight. It was Ruth.