At the far end of the stable, he found a gray gelding that wasn't too skittish. He saddled it, then checked the girth straps on the bay and the gelding. It wouldn't do to have the saddles slip when Orman and Xander tried to mount. With the horses ready, he moved to the able entrance and eased one side of the double doors open, peering through the narrow gap toward the keep. He saw a brief movement at the eastern door and realized it was Xander, standing just inside the half-open doorway, in the shadow of the interior. A dark figure as just visible behind him-Orman, he hoped, and then realized could well be one of Keren's men. He shrugged. There was only one way to find out.
"Fine," he muttered. He glanced at the dog, who was staring expectantly up at him, ears pricked and eyes questioning. "Follow," he said, then added: "Silent." He reinforced the word command with the hand signal he'd taught her. The dog, content now that she knew what was expected of her, dropped to her haunches, ready to move.
Hastily, Will fastened a lead rope to the other two horses, tying the end to Tug's saddle. Then he moved quickly to the door once more, easing one side wide open. He ran back, swung quickly up into Tug's saddle and touched the little horse with his heels.
There was a momentary drag on the lead rope as the mare and the gelding resisted the pull, then they were clattering out onto the cobbles behind Tug, moving already at a brisk trot. The dog slipped along beside Tug, a black-and-white shadow running belly low to the ground.
Xander was already helping Orman down the three steps that led to the keep door. The castle lord looked to be in bad condition, supported by his secretary's arm around his shoulders. There was a moment of confusion as Will hauled on the lead rope to bring the horses to a halt. Tug, sensing what he had in mind, braced his sturdy legs to stop the other horses. They plunged and pulled for a few seconds, then Xander gripped the mare's bridle and held her steady as Orman tried to pull himself up into the saddle. Will heard his quick, painful intake of air and heard also a voice from the battlements as the sudden swirl of movement caught the guards' attention. He slid an arrow from the quiver hanging over the pommel and laid it on the bowstring. Xander would have to help Orman by himself. It would be Will's task to take care of any opposition that might show itself.
As he had the thought, he heard muffled shouting from inside the keep tower, and the sound of running feet. He glanced down at Xander, struggling with the deadweight of his master as the mare stepped skittishly away in a small half-circle. Will urged Tug close beside the mare, held his bow in one hand, reached down with the other and heaved on Orman's belt, hauling him up into the saddle as Xander pushed from below. The castle lord groaned in pain, but he was mounted now and Xander was struggling to get his foot into the stirrup as the gelding danced nervously, affected by the tension and excitement.
Behind him, he heard the keep doorlock rattle, then the heavy door was flung open by someone inside. Twisting in the saddle, barely looking, he shot, slamming an arrow quivering into the wood of the doorjamb at face height. He heard a startled shout and the door slammed shut again.
"Come on!" he yelled. There was no more time to lose. He touched Tug with his heels and the little horse clattered away, dragging the others behind on the lead rope. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Xander half in and half out of the saddle, clinging desperately to the gelding's mane. He couldn't spare the little man any more time or thought. The gatehouse was before them and one of the sentries was running uncertainly toward the giant windlass that operated the portcullis. Will sent an arrow whistling past the man's ear and saw him drop to the cobbles for cover.
There was more shouting behind them now and from the corner of his eye, Will saw movement on the battlements ahead of them, and heard a crossbow bolt strike, skidding, on the stones in front of Tug.
Without conscious thought, seemingly without aiming, he shot again and a figure tumbled from the parapet into the courtyard, his crossbow clattering on the stones beside him.
Then the horses' hooves were thundering on the timber of the drawbridge and the drag on the lead rope was virtually gone as the gelding and mare, drawn by the excitement of the moment, kept pace with Tug. They shot into the darkness under the massive gate tower, then out into the winter sunshine. Within seconds, the hooves were drumming on the hard frozen ground at the end of the bridge and they were clear. He sensed the hiss of crossbow bolts in the air but there were only a few of them. They had taken the sentries by surprise-or they were mainly Orman's men and had refused to fire on their lord. He glanced back and saw that Xander had finally made it into the saddle. He was riding close beside Orman, the taller man hunched painfully in the saddle, but holding firmly to the pommel.
It would be some minutes before any pursuit was launched and Will knew where he wanted to be when they came after him.
28
Will drew rein as they reached the now-familiar entrance to Grimsdell Wood. He allowed the other horses to pull alongside Tug and studied Orman critically. The castle lord was swaying in his saddle, his eyes half closed and with a faraway look in them. His mouth moved but no sound came out.
Xander was watching his lord anxiously. "We have to get him to Malkallam quickly," he said. "He's nearly unconscious."
Will nodded. He looked away from Orman to the bend in the road where their pursuers would appear-he had no doubt there would be pursuers.
"Get him further into the trees," he said. "I'll stay here and discourage anyone from following too closely." He indicated the narrow trail that he and Alyss had followed on their previous exploration of the wood. "Follow that path for a hundred meters or so and wait for me there. You'll be well out of sight by then."
Xander hesitated. "What about you?"
Will smiled at him. The little clerk had unexpected courage. He flicked the cowl of his cloak up over his head and nudged Tug farther into the dappled shadows under a bare-branched oak tree.
"I'm out of sight now," he said. And when Xander still hesitated, he gestured for him to go. "Get going. They'll be up with us any minute."
The secretary saw the good sense of the suggestion. He nodded to Will and, seizing the lead rein for Orman's horse, led the semiconscious castle lord into the dim shadows of Grimsdell Wood. After fifteen meters, they were lost to Will's sight. He nodded to himself with satisfaction and sat unmoving. The dog was flat on her belly on the ground beside Tug. She emitted a low, rumbling growl.
"Still," he told her, and her tail flicked obediently.
A few seconds later, Tug's ears twitched nervously and he pawed the ground with one hoof. So far, Will had heard nothing. He marveled at the acute senses of his two animals. He soothed Tug, and knowing that his master had heard his warning, the little horse relaxed.
It was another half minute before the band of riders rounded the bend in the road. There were eight of them, all armed and led by a familiar tall figure.
"Buttle," he breathed. The dog allowed herself another almost inaudible growl, then settled again.
The group drew rein about two hundred meters from where Will sat. One of the men was obviously a hunter of some kind and he dropped from the saddle to study the tracks on the road, looking to the snow-covered meadow that separated the road from Grimsdell Wood, where the path taken by the three horses through the snow was all too clear. He pointed toward the wood and moved to remount.
Buttle gave the signal for the men to advance, but they didn't move. Will heard raised voices as Buttle turned on them and repeated the order. He smiled to himself. Buttle obviously hadn't heard about the horrors of Grimsdell, he realized. For a moment, he regretted a lost opportunity. If they had come forward, he could have waited till they were in the middle of the open ground and then started shooting. He could probably have reduced Keren's available force by eight men that way. Then he rejected the thought. Some of the men might well be Orman's soldiers, forced to go along against their will. And even if they weren't, he knew he could hardly bring himself to murder eight men in cold blood, no matter how dangerous they might be. That wasn't why Halt had trained him for years to the level of skill he now possessed.