Elizabeth helped me stand. She escorted me into a large chamber where perhaps ten of us faced the king, who was seated on a small wooden bench as his throne. He wore armor, the thick leather type that prevented arrows from penetrating, and a metal helmet. He also wore an expression I never wished to be directed at me.
He spoke, his voice firm, “One general, one of my own, sold out his king, kingdom, and future. We are penned in by hundreds of men and we have no chance to defeat them. They hold every entrance and exit to the south wing. But we can make them pay. There is only one way inside this chamber.”
The words triggered my mind into action. “There is a way out. The same way we came back in.”
He looked up in surprise. “You’ve been outside? And returned?”
I jostled Honest Bran with my shoulder. “Sure. To do so, we needed the help of your most loyal subject to defend you. That would be Bran, here.”
“Stop joking,” Elizabeth ordered. “If you will get your men to follow us, we might be able to get us all out alive.”
“You heard her,” he barked. Then he motioned for her to lead. Instead, Bran went first, me second, and a couple of the king’s men after that. The king followed, and Elizabeth and the rest of the guards came after.
We ran quietly, retracing our steps. At one point, an enemy darted out, fired a single arrow which I pushed aside strike the wall of the hallway. He disappeared and we didn’t bother looking for him. We didn’t have time.
The door to the suite with the secret room was directly ahead. We left a few men at the door with orders to shout out a warning, close and bar it if they saw trouble. The guards we’d killed earlier were still where we left them. The rest of us ran into the second room, the hidden one. I set the ladder in place and Elizabeth raced to the top and lifted the trap door. The king and prince exchanged startled expressions. Both had known about the room, but not the tunnel.
Others followed her up. I waited at the bottom, sending more up first. Then I called to the three men at the door and they rushed in, saw where the others had gone, and were up the ladder without being told. I followed.
As before, I climbed and unhooked the ladder and threw it at the bed. It clattered short and skidded across the stone floor. An arrow flew inside from the doorway. I gently closed the trap door and waited. If the sounds of men setting the iron ladder into place came, I’d flee, but with my short bow, the first one or two to enter the tunnel would certainly die.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Nobody tried to enter the tunnel behind us. I must have closed the hatch before they saw it hanging open. I heard men searching, and at one point the iron ladder screeched across the floor with a clatter and sound of metal on stone. A few muffled orders were given—but the hatch remained closed.
I backed quietly down the tunnel, still expecting it to be exposed at any instant. They must know we’d entered the hidden room and vanished. The search for the exit must be happening. My mind kept returning to the orange mist in the hallway and how weak it had been. How easy I’d defeated it. The incident seemed to confirm what I’d been thinking. The almost dead Waystone meant the source of essence was almost gone and therefore so was the magic power for the mages. If not gone totally, their powers were severely weakened if that was the best they could do at making a wall of fire to consume us.
The sounds of our friends retreating at the far end of the tunnel diminished and I turned to follow them. When I reached the wooden door, they were all waiting for me. The king was more than agitated—he was furious, face red, fists balled. The prince had departed already.
Elizabeth explained, “He went to find the other generals, the ones loyal to him.”
The king spat, “They think we’re still penned up in there with no way to escape and they’re searching for us, but when the rest of my troops surrounds the south wing, we’ll see who’s penned up.”
It hadn’t taken him long to decide what to do. He looked at me. “You found the secret door?”
“Just luck,” I said, displaying my modesty.
He snorted, then said, “No such thing. Now, while we have a moment, tell me about my most loyal subject.” His eyes were on Bran.
I recognized the term I’d used to describe Bran earlier. “Our carriage driver and the man who did the most to rescue you, in fact, he insisted he come along. It must make you feel very proud to inspire men like him.”
“Bran, the carriage driver, you and I will have a discussion or two when this is over.”
Bran’s face was red with embarrassment. He stood taller and said, “Can you take me with you?”
“Where?” asked the king.
“To wherever all of you are going. I want to be part of it.”
The king smiled for the first time. “Will you accept a royal appointment to my personal guards? Later, we can change that, if you like, but certainly, you may go with us. I obviously need people I can trust.”
Bran wanted to go very much if the satisfied expression and smile were indicators.
Elizabeth said, “I hate to mention this, but I have people in need of me at our rendezvous location in the Brownlands.” She stole a glance in my direction. “Damon’s sister is in possible danger and we need a boat sailing in that direction as soon as possible.”
I said quickly, “How long do you think it will take for us to recapture the south wing?”
He shrugged. “I have ten men for every one of theirs, probably more since the three of you arrived and killed so many. The loyal army will enter there soon—and I expect the south wing will be clear of enemies well before nightfall. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“How long before you send troops on ships?”
“I can see how anxious you are.” He turned to one of his men, “Escort these three to the docks and tell Admiral Maas my orders are for them to sail tonight on his fastest ship.”
“Three?” I asked.
“Bran will drive you to the docks and go with you. I understand his carriage is nearby.”
We said our goodbyes and followed Bran and the messenger the king sent with us. At the carriage, he climbed in and helped us, then pointed to the ramparts of the castle. Three Wyvern perched there, no doubt supplying essence to the mages.
“Too far away for scalding water,” I said.
Elizabeth said, “Their essence will help the mages defend the south wing. Good men will die.”
“Only if they are in close proximity,” I said, an idea coming into mind. “Bran take us closer to the wall, as near to those beasts as you can get.”
He clucked the horse ahead and we reached the closest point the road would allow. It was enough. I said, “Elizabeth, use your bow to shoot at them.”
“Don’t be silly, I can’t . . .” her voice trailed off. “I get it. You can push the arrows like we used to do when the Dire Army practiced archery.”
She was already pulling the first arrow back as she talked, thinking she understood, but there was more. I struck a tiny fire at the tip of her arrow. As she released, I fanned the fire into a ball so big a man couldn’t place his arms around it, then directed the arrow to fly higher and faster. The wind pushed it a little left, I corrected that and sent it directly at one of the Wyvern.
It struck the nearest one solidly in the chest and exploded in a ball of fire, scaring the others so they flew away in a panic. They flew high and fast. They soon disappeared from sight. The one struck by the arrow burned and fell off the rampart, trailing black smoke.