Byrd, on the other hand, hadn't been remotely concerned about Magiere, and now he trotted through the forest in search of the tunnel's hidden exit.
"Here," he called from beyond a tall fir tree. "If the tunnel runs straight from the keep, the exit will be along this line."
Leesil checked the sight line, shifting about until he caught a glimpse of the lake through the branches. Chap began sniffing the ground.
"Search for anything that doesn't smell natural," he told the dog. "Anything that might be man-made."
Chap licked his nose with a rumble, as if to say he didn't need to be told.
Leesil dropped to the ground. They could be looking for anything. It might even be buried, the opening unearthed from the inside only when the exit was finally used. Or it could be covered with decades of forest mulch.
Byrd dropped down beside him. "Timeron was quick-witted, from what I've heard. And remember that he was trying to hold off men like Darmouth's grandfather, which was no small feat. He'd have found craftsmen and builders clever enough to create more than just a hole in the ground."
Leesil nodded, still wondering what they searched for. All nobles holding a keep or castle made certain of an escape route for the family, but this was by far the most elaborately planned route he'd ever heard of. A watertight tunnel constructed before the plain was flooded.
He'd breached more than one stronghold in his life, but not like this. Scaling a wall or opening a hidden bolt-hole was simple by comparison. The tunnel had to emerge where the ruler and any retainers might reasonably escape assaulting forces. Looking around, all Leesil saw were trees, brush, and half-frozen ground.
"It has to be right here somewhere." Byrd scraped traces of snow and brittle mulch to expose the earth beneath. "Give me Magiere's falchion. You use the narrow wing on one of your blades."
They took a position five paces from each other and worked their way across the forest floor. Every two paces they rammed steel into the earth to probe for anything hidden below. Chap circled through the area around them, sniffing everything.
Leesil found nothing. In several places, the space between the trees was too narrow for any exit. Byrd's countenance was calm, but Leesil sensed that he grew anxious.
"We're missing something," Byrd finally muttered.
Leesil hesitated. "This is why my parents ran into the keep. The exit has to be here."
Byrd sighed. "One of them must have known."
Leesil thought back into the past. "They would have fled through the exit, perhaps exposing it somehow, but there's no sign of escape here. Did they get away or not?"
"Pay attention." Byrd stood up, looking around. "All right, if it's not in the ground, where could it be?"
Leesil looked about and saw nothing but snow-dusted earth, trees, and brush. He'd found bolt-holes within the walls and towers of strongholds. Here in the forest there were no designed structures to consider. Then he stopped and looked up at the trees rising into the air.
Towers-forest towers of wood.
Three thick and massive gnarled oaks stood on a direct line to the keep across the lake. At this time of year they were bare of leaves, but the one in the center seemed… wrong. He stepped closer, running his hand over each tree. The middle tree was wider than the other two. Some of its bark crumbled in his hand. This center one was old. Perhaps dead?
"Chap!" Leesil called. "Come here."
The dog loped over to his side. Chap circled the trees, his nose tracing exposed roots up to the trees' trunks. He stopped and leaned his forehead and snout up against the center one as he closed his eyes.
"Is it dead?" Leesil asked.
Chap looked up and barked once.
"Yes," Leesil whispered.
Byrd raised his eyebrows at this exchange. "So? What of it?"
"I'd guess it hasn't been alive for a long while, but it's still upright because it's soundly lodged between the other two." He pointed from the tree's base toward the lake. "Look. That's where Magiere came out of the water."
"A tree for an exit?" Byrd scowled and circled around, studying the triple trunks.
Leesil circled as well. Stopping at the back, he felt the bark for knots and crevices. He found nothing.
"If you think it has a door or hatch," Byrd said, with a doubtful shake of his head, "the larch or bar would be on the inside. The engineer wouldn't want anyone getting in… only out.'
''That doesn't mean I cant find a way in," Leesil answered.
"All right then." Byrd stepped back and hefted Magi ore's falchion to swing.
"No! That'll leave the keep wide open," Leesil warned.
Byrd whirled toward him in anger. "Then what would you have us do?"
Chap rumbled, moving in on Byrd. Leesil shook his head at the dog.
An open back door would serve a rebellion-or an assassination. He'd have to watch Byrd carefully, but short of killing him, there was only one answer in the end.
Wynn had been right. This province was headed toward conflict, and the removal of Darmouth would sink it-and perhaps all of the War-lands-into bloodshed. Darmouth or those close to him had to be warned before Byrd's anmaglahk allies could act.
Leesil's stomach knotted. He had to save the monster who'd made him kill again and again for the lives of his parents.
"Wait," he snapped at Byrd, and stepped close to the dead oak. He doubted they could hack through with only a sword. There had to be some sign of where the opening might be. The darkness made it difficult to see any detail, but he felt along the rough surface for anything odd.
At the place where the curve of the center trunk met its companions was a line. Some of the dead bark had broken away over the years. The more he inspected, the more a pattern emerged. A definite crack of decay ran vertically along the crevice.
"Here," he said. "Chip away lightly along this line. But be quiet about it."
Leesil stepped back, and Byrd chipped at the crevice with the falchion's point. The noise made Leesil flinch. They were far from the city, but he still turned about to glance in all directions through the forest.
At first Leesil saw nothing and held up a hand for Byrd to stop. When he ran his fingers across bare wood where the bark was gone, he found a thin crack in the exposed surface. He pulled one of his winged blades, sank its tip into the crack, and levered it to the side. Byrd joined him, pushing with the falchion's blade. They worked in turns, one prying so the other could slip a blade farther in.
A crack of splitting wood answered. Leesil pushed his blade deeper and they both heaved again. A louder crack and snap came this time.
Byrd stumbled sideways into Leesil before righting himself. A piece of the tree's wood broke away, and Leesil stared into a jagged dark hole the size of his fist. He braced his foot on the tree's roots where they met with the trunk, and stepped up high enough to slide his hand in.
The hole's depth was about half his forearms length, and then he felt nothing but open space. The dead oak between its siblings was hollow.
Leesil felt along the inside surface and touched a narrow but thick strip of metal. When he wiggled it, it spun sideways, mounted on some nail or pin at its midpoint. Nothing happened, and he sank his arm farther into the hole. He felt around the inside, found two more metal straps within reach, and twisted each one.
A large oblong piece of the trunk fell outward against him, and he jumped back out of its way. It toppled, thumping against the tree roots, and Leesil stared into a dark opening large enough for a crouched man to crawl through.
The builders couldn't hide hinges and had simply used the lines of the tree to cut a hidden hole in the trunk. They'd secured the panel from the inside-bark and all-with simple pivoting straps of metal that braced against the opening's inside.