My feet were silent when I landed. Elizabeth was already halfway out, and she turned to face back inside the tunnel as she lowered herself. Her feet touched my shoulders and I knelt. She leaped off.
There were two candles at opposite ends of the room. I snuffed one, while Bran did the other. The light streaming through the busted doorframe gave us plenty to see by, but from outside, in the larger suite of rooms, we’d be hard to see.
I moved ahead, careful to be quiet and stay out of the direct light. There were two guards sitting at a table, sharing a bottle of wine. One of them called to another who was lying on the bed. I held up three fingers and heard the scuff of a boot near the doorway to the hall, but out of my sight.
Four fingers. I pointed to where the table was and held up two and pointed to Bran. He nodded. I pointed at Elizabeth and held up one and placed my hand to my ear as if sleeping. She understood. She would take the one in bed. That left the unseen guard.
He would be mine. I had two choices. He might charge into the room and I could take him out then, but he might shout a warning first, and he might run the other way and escape and warm our enemies. My choices were to wait or go to him.
I stepped in front of Bran. Elizabeth would have the most time since her single target was in bed, so she went last. I touched the end of my bow to Bran’s arm and listened. The two men at the table laughed.
The time was right. I darted inside the room drawing the attention of the two at the table but ignored them. They had no weapons in their hands. As I rounded the end of a wall, arrow nocked and ready, a startled guard at the door turned. I fired and hit him in the chest. He spun and I saw the shouted warning coming as he drew a breath and temporarily ignored the arrow protruding like the lone branch on a tree.
I dived and clamped my hand over his mouth just as a wail started to emerge. If there was a guard outside the door, he heard the noise and I was defenseless. I glanced over my shoulder and found I was not. Bran knelt behind me, an arrow ready to take out anybody who entered the doorway. Elizabeth was at his side an instant later.
That told me they had killed their men and mine had quit struggling. I stood and took him by his feet and slid him around the corner of the wall and placed him near the bed where none of them would be seen without entering the main room.
A solid sound followed by a grunt spun me. Bran drug another who had been outside the door in the hallway and placed him beside the others. He then pulled the arrows from all five, discarded two that were damaged, and put the others in his quiver. He looked expectantly at me—as if I knew what to do.
My plan had ended with the capture of the rooms we stood inside.
I remembered when we had been shown the hidden room by the prince. It had been the last room in the hallway that ended a few steps away. That was good. If the mages had posted men in that room, the one directly across the hall had them too. We could work our way down the hall and check every room without fear of them moving in behind us.
The door across the hall opened into an empty suite of rooms.
We moved to the next empty one, and then the next.
At the end, the door Bran threw open held two men. They were startled at the appearance of us and at the appearance of an arrow striking the chest of the other. Bran pulled the door closed in case either called out, then when we had another arrow ready, he opened it. They were on the floor, dead.
We were at a crossroads. Literally. The hallway continued on, but another crossed in front of us. Three ways to choose from. To our right, the sound of a scuffle warned us. A muffled order was given. The sounds of running feet followed.
We turned that way. We paused while Bran opened every door along the way, then as all were vacant, we moved on. The corridor turned and we clearly heard the sounds of a battle. Bran poked his head around the corner enough to see, then pulled back.
He whispered, “Twenty of them in the hall, all with bows and swords. Beyond are maybe five of the king’s defenders.”
He didn’t have to say more. As one, we charged around the corner into the hall and let our nocked arrow fly as we pulled our bows together. Then another. I vaguely saw three go down as I let my next arrow go. It struck the nearest to us, just as Elizabeth’s struck him, also. We were shooting men in the back and watching them fall until then.
A shout spun their heads and there were about fifteen either getting ready to shoot at us or charge. We leaped back around the corner, but not before the five at the end of the hall realized we were there to help, and they now fired at the backs of the enemy. We had them in a crossfire.
Bran whispered intently, “Back. Get into a room and poke your head out long enough to shoot when they come.”
We ran. Elizabeth took the first on the left, me the second. Bran took one across the hall, but I never looked back there. Six or seven men rounded the corner of the hall almost together, two of them waving swords and shouting to unnerve us. It worked.
Not well enough, however, as we all emerged just enough to loose one arrow and duck inside to fit another to the string. Our second volley struck three more who were almost on us. One fell at my feet.
One charged inside the room with me, swinging his sword wildly and almost cutting me in half. I managed to dodge while my sword appeared in my hand and blocked his thrust. He was no swordsman, and as I blocked his blade forcing it to one side, mine slashed neck-high on the return swing. Blood splattered.
My sword moved as if it had met no resistance, it was so sharp. The blade had cut as easily as slicing air.
Elizabeth called and I ran from the room. She was at the corner again, grappling with a soldier holding a knife. My legs churned, my sword held high, as an arrow whipped past my arm and struck the knife-holder in his back. She shoved him aside and scrambled to her feet.
I ran around the corner, my sword ready to take on whoever might be there. The odd keening rang in my ears. My sword was singing to me.
The first man I saw was the prince, his sword in hand, his eyes on his blade. I knew what he heard. He limped in our direction, blood streamed down his left arm, and he managed a smile. “We thought you dead.”
“Your father?”
“Inside.” He motioned with his arm and winced in pain.
“Damon,” Elizabeth gasped.
I turned to find a fuzzy orange ball of light nearly filling the hallway from floor to ceiling, slowly moving in our direction, an attack with magic by a mage. My reaction was to flee, like everyone else. But I didn’t.
The orange should have been bright red and nearly solid. How I knew that was somehow strange, but the swirling mist was also thinner than it should be, the entire thing more of a poor illusion than a ball of fire rushing to burn our skin black. I stood and drew from the wall of air from behind me, compacting it, then releasing it as a sudden gust of wind.
The orange dissipated in a swirl of faint orange and behind it were five men, all with bows drawn, pointed at me. I dived to the floor.
“Help!” I shouted as the first of the arrows flew.
I pushed the first arrow aside with magic, not a lot, just a nudge to make it veer off enough to pass by me. The second was the same. The third came too close behind the second to push aside. It flew directly at me.
I heard people behind me rush into the hall and return fire. My mind registered the activity back there while beginning to push back at the third arrow. I built a mental wall and decided an arrow couldn’t penetrate it. I winced as I expected to feel the arrow plunge into me, but it reached the mental wall and clattered harmlessly to the bare floor.
I looked up and found all five men were down, arrows sticking out of them at odd angles. I turned to look behind me and found six people, each with a bow. They must have fired two or three shots each.