"First, get out of the castle without getting caught. Then … I don't know. We'll have to leave Maerchlin. After this, Phoros will be looking for all three of us."
"I had figured that much already," Kestrel said. He scowled. "We'll have to go far and fast. Probably safest to seek refuge in the lands of some city such as Soorenar or Mordulkin. I don't care to have Oslin's constables on my trail." He glanced around the room. Both guardsmen still slept, although Aeron had tied them up to make sure they wouldn't be going anywhere. "Here, Aeron. You and I can borrow these mail coats and helmets. Eriale. . well, she's obviously not looking too good. It's not unreasonable that a couple of guards might be taking her to the village to have old Meara look at her, right?"
Aeron agreed and knelt by the smaller of the two men, removing his mail hauberk. The fellow woke up, but tied and gagged as he was, he couldn't do anything more than glare at Aeron. Kestrel helped himself to the other guard's gear, and within a few minutes the two foresters could pass for Raedel's swordsmen at a distance.
Supporting Eriale between them, Aeron and Kestrel cautiously left the guardroom and turned back to the keep's gate. At this hour, the hallways were deserted, and they did not encounter anyone until they reached the sentry post. The drowsy watchman was now awake and alert, pacing back and forth across the stone doorway. His attention was on the courtyard, not the hall behind him. "What do we do?" Eriale whispered.
Aeron grimaced. "I'd hoped that he would still be sleeping. I can work a spell."
"No need," Kestrel interrupted. "I remember a trick or two from my younger days." He eased his borrowed dagger from his belt and crept up behind the sentry. Reversing his grip on the weapon, he quickly knocked the sentry's helmet off his head with his left hand and brought the heavy pommel down on the crown of the fellow's head. With a groan, the sentry went limp. Aeron caught his helmet before it clattered on the stone steps, while Kestrel lowered the unconscious guard to the floor. They waited, listening for a moment, but they didn't hear anything to indicate that they had been noticed.
"The lower gatehouse is guarded by four men," Aeron whispered. "I may be able to deceive them."
"What about the postern?" Kestrel asked.
"This castle has a postern gate?"
"Most do, Aeron. It's right over there, on the other side of the courtyard. Didn't you scout it out?"
Aeron shook his head. "I didn't even think of it."
Kestrel grinned in the starlight. "A year of learning, and it never even crossed your mind? If I were Fineghal, I'd be wondering whether you had rocks in your head."
"Won't the postern be locked?" Eriale asked.
"I can do something about that," Aeron answered.
"Then it sounds better than trying to talk our way out of here," Eriale muttered weakly.
The three of them started down the keep's wide steps and veered left. Yellow light burned in the barrack rooms that ringed the lower bailey, and Aeron could hear soldiers laughing and thumping tables in the castle's taproom. Kestrel led them straight toward the lantern light, but they went past the building to a small, shadowed alcove in the curtain wall. Aeron's eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. A small, heavy door sheathed in iron plate was embedded in the wall. "The postern?" he asked.
"That's it," Kestrel said. "Thirteen years ago, I-"
"Thirteen years ago you should have been strung up as a rebel, old man," a harsh voice grated behind them. Whirling to face the threat, Aeron gasped in shock. Phoros Raedel himself stood behind them, sword bared, with a stocky soldier in the uniform of a guard sergeant a pace behind them. "My thanks for leaving the sentry with a knot on his head, Morieth. If I hadn't noticed that he wasn't at his post, I never would have caught you here."
"Phoros," Aeron spat. He was terrified, but at the same time, an incandescent rage boiled in his heart. For years the mercenary lord's son and his friends had bullied him, finally driving him to strike back. And when he had dared to raise his hand in his own defense, Phoros had seen to it that everyone Aeron loved suffered for his defiance. "Let us go, and we'll never trouble you again. You win. I'll leave Maerchlin with Kestrel and Eriale, and you'll never have to see any of us again."
"I can make certain that you never trouble me again by having you drawn and quartered." Phoros grinned ruthlessly. "Or perhaps burned at the stake. That would only be fitting, considering what you did to Miroch."
"Aeron," Kestrel said, "can you open the gate?"
"Don't bother. It's locked." Phoros sneered. "Kestrel, if you lay down your sword this very instant, you and Eriale will live. Otherwise I'll burn you along with Aeron."
Aeron licked his lips and risked a quick glance at the postern behind them before turning to keep Raedel in his vision. They were within the postern's alcove, with Raedel and the sergeant blocking their escape to the courtyard, and stone surrounding them on all sides. There were dozens of guards only a few feet away in the taproom, but Phoros hadn't called for reinforcements yet. Carefully he said, "Yes, I can open it."
"Good." With a lightning-fast motion, Kestrel's hand dipped to his belt. Steel glinted in the darkness as his dagger, thrown underhand, sank into the throat of the guard sergeant. Raedel blinked in astonishment but recovered quickly. With an angry roar, he leapt forward and stabbed at Kestrel. The wily old forester barely freed his sword from the scabbard in time to parry the nobleman's attack. "Get started!" Kestrel grunted.
Aeron watched, mesmerized, as Phoros attacked Kestrel with a furious rain of blows, slashing and hacking with all his might. The young lord was a good swordsman, blessed with a powerful build and quick hands. Kestrel stood a foot shorter and weighed at least fifty pounds less than Raedel, and he had spent the last three months in a filthy dungeon cell. But Aeron was surprised to see that he was holding his own for a moment, displaying a surprising amount of skill and reactions even faster than Raedel's. "Time's on my side, old man," Raedel said. "Guards! Guards!"
"Aeron! The gate, before more soldiers come!" cried Eriale. She dragged at his arm, pulling him away.
"Right," he muttered. He turned his back on the duel and faced the postern gate again. Closing his eyes, he set his hand on the door and uttered a simple phrase, summoning a spell of opening to his mind. Beneath his fingertips, he felt the old, rusty lock slide and click. He set his shoulder to the door and pushed it open, a breath of cool air slipping through the widening crack. "I've got it!" he cried.
"Then get Eriale out of here," Kestrel snarled. "I can hold him a little longer." He stumbled with fatigue and bled from several small cuts, but somehow he still held Phoros Raedel at bay. The young lord tried to circle past him, only to be halted by the gleaming point of Kestrel's sword. Behind Raedel, several guardsmen had already appeared, and more were coming at a run.
"I don't think so," Raedel said. He feinted, drawing Kestrel's guard out, and smashed the forester's blade against the stone wall. On the backswing, he struck Kestrel across the scalp, sending him reeling to the ground, stunned. Phoros raised his sword, poised to run him through while his defenses were down.
"Father!" shrieked Eriale.
Without a moment's hesitation, Aeron reached out to seize the taut fabric of the Weave that surrounded him. He drew his hand over his face while pointing at Raedel, and breathed the words to a spell.
Phoros straightened with a startled cry. He reeled, stretching out to steady himself on the wall. "Curse you, Morieth! What have you done to me? I can't see!"
"Be glad I only blinded you," Aeron snapped. He reached down and helped Kestrel regain his feet. Roaring in frustration, Raedel slashed out uselessly. Even as the castle's guards pushed their way past their ranting lord, Aeron pushed Eriale through the postern, then helped Kestrel. The older man was bleeding freely from a long, shallow wound across his forehead, but he seized Eriale's arm and dragged her out into the night. Aeron slammed the postern shut and released his passage spell. Inside the heavy door, the lock clicked and reset itself. The castle's soldiers hammered on the other side, but to no avail. The postern was designed to handle any amount of pounding.