“It should open up within a few yards of the entrance. Then it’ll be high enough for you to walk the entire way, unless it’s blocked.” Earon canted a look at the wall. “Or guarded.”
As Kendrick followed Kian into the hole, Earon motioned for Jarrett to step out of earshot. Jarrett followed him a few steps away.
“You understand why I can’t do this?” he asked, rubbing at his scar.
“I understand.”
“I’d do almost anything for Tyla, but this…this is too much. I can’t even run and crawling…”
Jarrett gripped his shoulder. “I understand, Earon. Wait for us here. We’ll find you again. I promise.”
Earon swallowed hard. “When he finds out he can’t use her anymore, he’ll kill her, but if he captures you, he’ll make her do terrible things.”
Jarrett released the runner. “I’ve seen him do that before. I won’t let it happen again.”
Earon nodded. “Take care of yourself, Terrian. You’re a right bastard most of the time, but there’s no one else I’d want at my back in a fight, I can tell you.”
Jarrett forced a smile. “Don’t ride off with my horse, all right?”
“On my honor,” answered Earon with a wink.
Jarrett gave a bark of laughter, then strode back to the hole and knelt down. The wound in his side protested and each crawl forward made him catch his breath. After a few minutes, he saw a flicker of light ahead and eased through a round opening into a much larger tunnel. Both Kendrick and Allistar could stand fully, but he and Muzik would have to duck their heads. He leaned back on the hole and pressed a hand to his side, trying to catch his breath. Kian bounded to him, obviously excited by the bit of freedom they now enjoyed.
Kendrick motioned at his torch. Jarrett lit his own off the one in the Nazarien’s hand. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked to the other end of the tunnel and held it out. The light illuminated the tunnel for a few feet.
“So far so good,” he said, then started walking.
They encountered no obstacles during the duration of their journey under Sarkisian’s walls. Nor did they encounter any soldiers. They traveled for quite some distance, moving stealthily, their weapons ready.
The tunnel ended suddenly at a grate. Once again Muzik pushed Jarrett aside and peered through the grate. Muscles bunching in his back and across his shoulders, he shoved against it. Allistar joined him and they forced the grate open.
“Douse the torches,” whispered Allistar.
“As soon as we climb out, we’re in Sarkisian,” said Muzik with a meaningful look.
Kendrick and Jarrett doused the torches, while the captain and Allistar climbed out. Kendrick hoisted Kian up to the men and then he pulled himself through the grate. Jarrett followed, grimacing in pain as the move pulled at his wound, but Kendrick and Allistar helped him up. He found himself in a dark, dirty alley. A short distance away was a trash bin. They hurried to the bin and hunkered behind it, then peered toward the end of the alley. Suddenly a couple of soldiers marched past on a cross street, going about their patrols, their silhouettes caught in the lantern light on the corner.
“What now?” asked Kendrick.
Jarrett shook his head. “It’s too hard to assess the situation in the dark.” He leaned to the side and looked up at the building on their right. A back door opened onto the alley so that someone could access it to throw away the trash.
He eased beyond the trash bin and tried the doorknob. It was locked from the inside, so he returned to his companions. His wound burned and he felt defeated. Without knowing how often the patrols came, they risked being captured, and that wouldn’t help Tyla at all.
“I guess we wait,” he said wearily. “At least for daylight. I don’t know what else to do, unless we allow ourselves to be caught.”
“Let’s not do that,” said Allistar.
“Then we need to watch the patrols, time how often they pass, and mark if they come from the same side every time.”
“One person can do that, while the rest get some rest,” said Muzik, eyeing Jarrett pointedly. “I’ll take first watch.”
“I’ll take second,” said Kendrick.
Jarrett knew what they were doing, but he was grateful for it just the same. If he was going to face Rarick in a battle, he’d just as soon do it without every limb in his body trembling with fatigue.
CHAPTER 31
A line of Sarkisian Front Guard stood before the enormous gates of the city. Kalas and Dolan slowed their horses. Behind them rode the battalion from Adishian, flanked by the men the Baron had brought from Kazden. Kalas had ordered the archers to ride closest to his back and situated in the midst of them was the Baron himself, where everyone could see and hear him.
The Sarkisian Guardsmen all bristled with weapons, but the senior officer was the only one to step forward and greet them. “No one enters Sarkisian by order of the King.”
“Open the gates,” commanded Kalas. The sun rose above the battlements and bathed his face in light. He could see into the city. A number of people were gathering in the streets, watching the exchange.
“No one enters Sarkisian…” began the captain.
Dolan rose in his stirrups. He held the Adishian standard in his right hand. “Genuflect, you idiot. You are in the presence of the Crown Prince of Sarkisian and the acting King of Adishian.”
The captain’s gaze shifted to Kalas, then he made a mocking bow, followed by the rest of his soldiers. When he straightened, he surveyed the ranks of Kalas’ men. “No one’s allowed inside of Sarkisian.”
Kalas crossed his hands over his saddle horn. “Do you really mean to keep the Crown Prince out of his own city? Is that what Rarick told you to do?”
The captain’s eyes snapped back to Kalas’ face.
“Be sure those were your orders. We’re going through even if we have to take the gates down, but I’d hate to let all of these refugees in if it’s not necessary.” He leaned forward in his saddle, the leather creaking. “Did Rarick really tell you to keep me out?”
The captain considered his words for a moment, his expression pained, then he looked away. “Open the gates and let the Prince inside.”
Kalas straightened and shared a brief look with Dolan.
“I fear getting into the castle may prove more difficult,” offered the Nazarien.
“I fear you may be right.” Kalas turned in his saddle. “Baron, please prepare the men for combat.”
“Done,” came the Baron’s immediate response.
* * *
Muzik’s snore rumbled in the alley. He slumped behind the garbage bin, his chin resting on his chest. Dawn was just peeking over the rooftops, illuminating the streets, but the patrols of soldiers had only increased. Still, they didn’t seem to hear the giant captain’s snores through the cacophony of their march.
Jarrett kept watch, Kian asleep at his feet.
Kendrick passed him a waterskin. “No change?”
“If anything, there are more of them.”
“Do you have any idea how we’ll get into the castle?”
Jarrett shook his head, taking a drink. To his right sat Allistar, polishing his sword. “Any more visions?” the Stravad asked.
“None.”
“I wish we knew if she was all right,” Allistar replied.
Jarrett turned back to his watch. “So do I.”
Motion caught his attention. Soldiers had begun to race toward the main street, drawing their weapons. Jarrett rose to his feet and eased down the alley, until he could peer out the opening. Kendrick sidled up beside him.
The soldiers had fallen into a loose formation, blocking the road. Jarrett squinted, trying to make out what had them so alarmed, but it was difficult to tell from this angle.
“What’s going on?” asked Kendrick.
“Not sure.”
A moment later, Allistar and Muzik joined them, Muzik rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What is it?” he asked.
Jarrett stepped o
ut of the alley. A few soldiers looked over at him, but they didn’t break formation. A larger force was riding up the street from the direction of the front gates. There had to be three squadron of men, all heavily armed. At the front of the assembly flapped the standard of Adishian, moving steadily toward the castle.
“Kalas,” said Jarrett and he started shoving his way through the crowd of on-lookers. Kalas appeared to be moving toward Stronghold, rising in the distance.
Jarrett quickened his pace, trying to cut the Prince off at the castle gates. He was only half aware that his companions were behind him.
Once at the gate, he hesitated, finding soldiers blocking the road. Kalas and his battalion rode right to the barricade, pulling their mounts to a halt. The gates were closed and a regiment of Front Guard filled the parade grounds, waiting for them.
“Open the gates,” shouted the Prince of Sarkisian.
Jarrett couldn’t believe the change in this man. He appeared confident and focused, not at all like the confused waif he’d been just a few months before.
“No one’s allowed inside the castle,” came the response.
Kalas turned to the man next to him, exchanging a number of words. While he was occupied, Jarrett forced his way through the soldiers.
“Kalas!” he shouted.
“Jarrett, be careful,” Kendrick warned, but Jarrett didn’t heed him. He shoved through the last of soldiers and came abreast of the Prince.
Kalas stared down at him. “Jarrett?” He marked Jarrett’s other companions. “What are you doing here? Where’s my sister?”
Jarrett pointed to the tower rising above them, its black sides glinting in the sunlight. “In the tower. Rarick has her.”
Kalas frowned in confusion, then he looked up at the tower. “How?”
“It doesn’t matter. Get us inside these gate, Kalas. Now.”
Kalas’ gaze dropped to the guardsmen. “Open the gates.” As he spoke, he lifted his hand. Behind him rose row after row of archers, standing in their stirrups, their arrows aimed at a point beyond the gates. “Open the gates or die.”
A murmur went through the Sarkisian soldiers. Beyond the gates, one detached himself and came forward. He bowed low before the Prince. “Hail, Prince of Sarkisian,” he said, then lifted the bar holding the gates closed. Motioning to another soldier, the two of them pulled the gates open.
Kalas didn’t waste any time. He kneed his mount forward and rode into the inner bailey of Stronghold Castle.
* * *
Inara helped Tyla cross the tower. Her legs trembled and her head throbbed. She hadn’t been able to keep down any water for the last day, let alone any food. She could feel the potion moving through her body, making her heart pound faster. She tried to block it, but it was winning.
Rarick stood before the broken window, staring down. His mouth worked, but no words came out. When she was close enough, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up beside him. She noted a few soldiers standing around the room. They were also looking at a spot directly below the tower wall, their expressions alarmed.
“Look!” Rarick said, pointing at the gate.
Tyla squinted in the bright sun and looked down. She could see a large force on horseback collecting in the street. In the midst of the battalion waved the standard of Adishian. She felt her heart beat faster and a cold sweat peppered her skin. A wave of nausea swam through her.
“They’ve come to usurp my throne. I want them dead.” His grip tightened. “Do you hear me? I want them dead.”
Tyla looked up at him. As she did so, her eyes chanced to mark the emerald where it lay on the floor. The talisman no longer glowed. It looked no more important than a bit of green glass.
Oh, what a mistake she’d made.
“You damn fool,” she said tiredly. “Don’t you know who’s at the gate?”
“Men who want my throne.”
She gripped the window frame to hold herself upright. Her legs wanted to fold. The nausea was becoming hard to ignore. “You don’t see the standard? That’s Adishian down there. Kalas? Your Crown Prince?”
Rarick’s head lifted and his mouth opened. Again, he spoke words without sound. Finally he moaned, “He wants my throne. He’s come for my throne.”
As Tyla looked out the window, one of the commanders dropped to his knee before her brother, then rose and began opening the gates.
Rarick shook her. “Kill him! Do you hear me, stop him from coming!”
Tyla gazed up at him, the weight of her hair falling down her back. “I can’t. Your potion made certain that I can’t summon my power. There’s no one to save you now, Rarick.”
His pupils dilated and he looked down frantically. Kalas and his army of soldiers spilled through the open gates of the castle and into the bailey. Around them, the Guardsmen simply stood and watched, doing nothing to hinder their progress.
Rarick was breathing rapidly, his nails digging into Tyla’s arm. He wrenched her away from the window, shoving Inara when she tried to stop him. The nurse fell, but Rarick didn’t hesitate.
He dragged Tyla to the middle of the room. They could hear shouts coming from the lower floor. Jerking Tyla forward, he stumbled to one of his soldiers. The man reared away from him, but Rarick grabbed for his sword instead, wrenching it from its sheath. Then he yanked Tyla in front of him and pressed the tip of the sword to her side.
“When he tops the stairs, kill him!” he commanded his soldiers.
They exchanged looks and backed away. They obviously weren’t ready to meet the force that Kalas brought with him.
* * *
Kalas and his men rode to the stairs leading to the interior of Stronghold. Swinging his leg over the horse’s back, he dropped to the ground.
Jarrett was suddenly beside him.
“Baron,” Kalas called, starting up the stairs. “See that no one from Sarkisian enters this castle.”
“Done,” said the Baron, moving his own mount into position.
Kalas drew his sword and continued climbing. Dolan positioned himself on his right side and Jarrett to his left. Behind them came Muzik and Kendrick. Another Stravad followed with the dog, but Kalas didn’t recognize him.
He hoped this small group would be enough. The thought of Tyla under Rarick’s control chilled him. He couldn’t understand how it could have happened, but he knew nothing good would come of it.
A single soldier manned the castle entrance, but Jarrett shoved him aside and threw open the double doors. The interior of Stronghold was dark, especially after the brightness of the early morning sun.
Both Dolan and Jarrett shoved Kalas back as they entered. He didn’t hesitate to follow, but once over the threshold, he halted. The darkness and cold made him shiver. Gods, he hated this castle.
“You are not welcome here,” came Marlas’ voice from the shadows.
Oh, how he hated that voice!
Shoving between his protectors, Kalas grabbed Marlas by the throat and threw him into the wall. Various jars and vases on the table beside the door rattled with the impact. Marlas’ fingers curled around Kalas’ wrist, trying to pull him off.
“Where’s my sister?” Kalas snarled, tightening his grip.
Marlas whimpered, trying to shake his head.
Kalas eased his grip just enough for him to speak. “Answer me!”
“She’s not here.”
Kalas slammed him back into the wall and released him. He turned and surveyed the entrance hall. Jarrett had said she was in the tower. How he knew, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed the most likely possibility.
“Now what?” asked Dolan.
Kalas looked down the hallway that led to the tower. There was no way to know how many men Rarick had stationed along the way or within the tower itself, and fighting on those stairs could be treacherous.
“We go up,” he said.
He’d just taken a step forward when Jarrett threw his weight into him, nearly knocking him over. Kalas twisted as he fell and Dolan caught his a
rm, keeping him on his feet.
He blinked in shock. Jarrett had impaled Marlas on his blade, the chamberlain’s body slumped against the entrance wall. An iron statue dropped from Marlas’ hand and clattered on the tiles. His eyes were wide and beginning to glaze over as the Terrian leaned on the blade.
“She told you to run,” he said in a voice that vibrated with strain. Wrenching the sword free, he allowed the chamberlain to sink to the ground, then he turned and met Kalas’ startled gaze.
Kalas’ attention shifted to the statue. “Thank you.” He exhaled a shivery pant.
Jarrett’s jaw clenched. “Let’s go.”
Kalas nodded, but his gaze was drawn back to the chamberlain. Marlas’ expression seemed so shocked, so unprepared.
“Kalas!” urged the Terrian.
Dolan clasped his shoulder, easing him around. Kalas tried to pull his thoughts about him as he mechanically moved forward. How many times had he seen death strike that suddenly? Lex Prestar. Marlas. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his eyes, shaking away the shock.
Quickening his pace, he led them to the tower door. Wrenching it open, he began running, taking the stairs two at a time. He could hear the others behind him and could feel Jarrett’s presence looming at his back. If the circular stairway wasn’t so narrow, he knew the Terrian would have overtaken him.
They topped the staircase and skidded to a halt at the entrance of the old school room. Kalas had only a moment to take in the scene. A number of soldiers stood around the periphery of the room, but they didn’t move to attack.
Rarick held Tyla in front of him, a sword pressed against her side. “Don’t come any farther.”
Kalas threw out his arm, knocking Jarrett in the chest and bringing him to a halt. “All right. We won’t. Let her go.”
“You came for my throne.”
Kalas shook his head. “No, I don’t want your throne. I just want my sister.”
“You came for my throne. After all I’ve done for you, after everything I’ve sacrificed, you want it all.”
Kalas searched the room. He could see Inara huddled on the floor, watching him with enormous eyes. He turned his hands out, palms up, holding the sword hilt in a motion of surrender. “I didn’t come for your throne. I came for my mother. She sent for me. I just want to see her.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 50
