“No, not subtle at all.” Hoyle was still looking at his reflection in the window. With the amount of light in the room, and the darkness outside, it was like a mirror.
Celia realized that she was hungry, her stomach betraying her with a loud rumble; she went to the tray and got a slice of bread. As she stood and buttered it, she asked, “So what is your ‘direct approach’ plan as these two call it?” She gestured at Salrissa and Hoyle with her bread after taking a large bite.
“I have two, each with their own merits and problems,” Robart started, his smile that of the cat-that-ate-the-canary. “The first is to fly east to the Goralon garrison down the pass, tell them who we are and challenge the warlock.”
Both Celia and Salrissa raised a single eyebrow at the same time, one the mirror of the other. They both noticed the other and shared a small smile. They turned their expressions on Robart. Hoyle was chuckling at the window, having obviously seen them in the reflection.
“Okay, it isn’t necessarily the smartest plan, I grant you, but it is the simplest. And it could succeed.” Robart offered. Celia was now watching Valena, who was trying very hard to stay neutral and out of the conversation, but she was starting to think that these plans were not Robart’s at all.
“What is the second plan, if I may ask?” Celia intentionally looked at Valena, who noticed out of the corner of her eye, and shrunk down a little on the bunk.
“Stage a little show, pretend to be fleeing the citadel on the drakes, pretending to hold the drake riders hostage. Once we arrive at the garrison, we claim we are defecting and have important information for the warlock. More work, a little more danger, but a better chance they take us seriously when we get there.” The torturer looked smug as he leaned back against the wall, his hands behind his head.
“Certainly would be faster than the original plan. How long would it take us to fly up through the mountains?” Salrissa asked. Celia could see Hoyle thinking quietly, still staring at his reflection in the window.
“Not sure. Maybe a week.” Robart answered. “Not that familiar with the drakes.”
Hoyle moved over and sliced a chunk off a small roast from one of the trays and put it on a slice of bread. He chewed it thoughtfully. Salrissa grabbed an apple and took a bite. Celia had finished her bread and moved over to the desk to get a piece of chicken that was resting beside the roast on the tray.
Valena and Robart stayed where they were for the moment, as the three of them chewed their food. “What do you think?” Celia asked quietly, so the other two could not hear.
“Not sure. All three are viable, if somewhat crazy, and most assuredly suicidal. I don’t fancy a week or more in the wilds, it’s not my element,” Hoyle answered just as quietly. “That being said, it would be better than spending another bell in a dungeon. Anyone’s dungeon. Which is a distinct possibility with Robart’s options.”
“They aren’t his, they’re hers.” Celia whispered. Hoyle looked at her curiously.
“Are you sure? Then why is she playing the follower?” he asked glancing over her shoulder at the other two.
“She is sure, because it’s true.” Salrissa answered for Celia. “As to what is exactly going on, that is still to be ferreted out. So far she has been harmless. The question remains ‘Will she always be so?’”
“So what do we do?” Celia asked.
“What no one expects.” Hoyle answered cryptically.
Chapter 17
Hoyle stood on the rampart looking into the night just after the twelfth bell on the sky citadel. His stomach grumbled loudly; it would be the dinner bell back in Tala’ahar. He ignored his discomfort, glancing at his companions to see if any noticed. Celia was beside him, dressed in her travelling clothes from earlier in the day, as were Valena and Robart. They had all followed him when he had jumped up about half a bell ago saying he had a plan better than all the rest. Valena followed quietly, Robart grumbling about being woken even though none of them had been asleep. He had already explained his plan to Celia and Salrissa, and the latter had gone on ahead. He had yet to explain it to Robart and Valena. He did not want to tip his hand... yet.
“So what are we doing out here?” Robart asked for about the eighth time. He was pulling his cloak around him as the cold wind swirled around them all. It was spring across Kaladahn, but on the east side of the Whitetooth Mountains the wind was still bitterly clinging to winter.
Hoyle heard a soft bird call from the darkness to the group’s left, Salrissa’s signal, so he began to move in her direction, the rest following. As they approached the tower, they saw the door was already open a crack, exposing only darkness inside. They followed Hoyle through the door into the dark tower room. Once inside with the door closed, Salrissa removed the hood from a lantern to reveal a simple guardroom, two bodies slumped against each other, and tied up. Where Salrissa had gotten the rope, he had no idea.
Salrissa stepped closer to Celia. “You can do this, can’t you?” she whispered quietly, but loud enough that the others heard.
“Do what?!” Robart demanded, clearly agitated.
Celia glanced at the large man, but answered Salrissa, “I think so, but I won’t know for sure until we’re on board.”
“If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now, someone’s going to get hurt.” Robart’s hand was hovering over his belt, not near his sword. He looked directly at Hoyle as he made his threat.
“Well, I thought your plan had some merits, but I worked out something a little better. If we were defecting, would it not be better to bring a prize worth something to prove our sincerity, rather than some drakes and riders they would have to kill or let go? Wouldn’t it be better for the Empire if they lost property, and not highly skilled lives? Thus my plan,” Hoyle finished with a small bow and fluttering of his hands.
“You still haven’t told us the plan.” Robart stated.
“The sky skiff.”
“The sky skiff?” Robart looked confused.
“The sky skiff.”
“Yes, that is a better plan,” stated Valena, almost to herself. Robart looked at her with a questioning look. She met his gaze. “We bring an item of magic the size of the small skiff to Karvesh, and they may believe that we are truly defecting. It will also get us there faster, mitigate the need for disguises, and possibly save the lives of the drake riders. I like it.”
“Good, so let’s get going.” Hoyle gestured at the small circular stairs in the corner, leading down.
They all followed as Salrissa led them down the circular spine of one of the large perimeter towers that ringed the sky citadel. They passed several closed doors that led to rooms on the lower levels. They passed the room at the ground level and heard the grunting of guards struggling with their bonds and gags through the open door. They went deeper still, until they were in a small hallway that led about ten paces to a door at the end; another door of newer construction was half way down on their left. A loud humming was coming from behind the far door, and a bright glow was emanating from under it, illuminating the hallway as well as, or better than, Salrissa’s lantern.
Salrissa led them to the newer door on the side of the hallway, but Celia walked past Salrissa and Hoyle to the door at the end.
“We don’t have time; we need to go this way!” Salrissa spoke loudly over the humming. Hoyle could now feel the humming as a vibration in the floor through his boots. He watched as Celia put her hand on the handle.
“Celia!” he shouted.
Celia turned to them with her eyes wide open. “I need to see what is beyond this door! Can’t you feel the energy?” With that she pushed the door open into the room, lighting the hallway with nearly blinding light. He saw her shadow step through the doorway, leaving the door wide open. The humming was louder now, too loud to speak, so he followed her, motioning to Salrissa to keep everyone by the door.
He moved up to and through the doorway, shielding his eyes as he stepped into the room. Once inside, his eyes adjusted
quickly to the pulsating light from a pit below floor level. Celia was standing at a stone balustrade that ran around the entire room about three paces from the circular wall. She was looking over the edge, down at the origin of the powerful illumination. There were two other doors around the room; one almost straight across, and one midpoint between that one and the one they entered through, on the right.
Hoyle stepped up and looked over the edge, making sure he was hanging on to the balustrade. What he saw was hard to describe. Three spans below appeared to be a magestone as large as his torso that glowed a bright azure blue, floating in the air about a span from the floor of the pit, its surface giving the appearance of motion, or rippling. Emanating from the magestone in five directions was what looked like a stream of light energy, just floating through the air, as if being poured from a pitcher, only horizontal. Each of these streams disappeared into a tunnel in the side of the pit about thrice the diameter of the stream itself. He looked back at the room at the level of the walkway, which is what they were truly standing on, and noted that three of the five streams of power coincided with the door locations above. The other two split the difference between the door pairs.
He tried to imagine how the sky citadel looked from above. He figured the middle stream must go toward the center tower, the other two to the towers north and south of this one, and the other off to towers on the other side of the citadel. He sketched the pattern in the dust on the top of the balustrade; the result was a circle with an eight-pointed star within.
Celia finally looked up at him, then down at the sketch he had made and nodded. Hoyle looked up, motioning her back to the door and saw the other three standing just inside the door. Robart and Valena stared in wonder as they stepped forward and peered into the pit. Salrissa stayed at the door, her expression anxious and slightly angry. He finally managed to herd everyone back to the door and into the darkened hallway, closing the door on the light and sound. After having spent several minutes in the loud room, the hallway seemed dead quiet.
“The plan depends on some speed you know!” Salrissa stated loudly in the still loud corridor as she led them to the door. Hoyle could feel a slight breeze through the cracks around the door. Salrissa opened the door inwards, it almost ripped itself from her hands from the breeze. Robart caught it before it smashed him in the face and scowled.
He looked out at the dark sky and the prize sitting just past the door. A giant contraption constructed of large wooden timbers hung off the side of the massive chunk of stone that comprised the sky citadel's base. Some timbers were mounted in holes that held them horizontal, with large metal chains connecting the farthest points of the timbers way up to brackets on the fortress wall itself. Off the bottom of the main timbers were many different beams and trusses that held a wooden catwalk that allowed access from the door. Between the two main beams were slung a system of webbed slings and nets. Resting in that sling system like a bird of prey at rest sat their prize: the sky skiff.
They started out onto the catwalk to the skiff, Hoyle feeling none-too-safe as the catwalk rocked and swayed with each step. Looking over the rickety side rails, he could see the shadow of the ground below in the darkness. To one side he could also see the flickering torches of the fort below. He really did not want to fall from here, so made he his steps quick.
Salrissa reached the skiff first and stepped over the rail, helping Valena and Celia over in their long robes. Robart followed with Hoyle immediately behind.
Suddenly shouts of alarm broke the night as guards spotted them from the wall high above. Everyone began to hurry as they were noticed. Salrissa grabbed Robart’s arm and guided him over to the dark forms of unconscious and bound guards near the far side rail. Celia paused for a moment casting a spell quietly under her breath, then flung her hands into the air. Tiny, glowing motes of light leaped into the air before dissipating. She then hurried towards the cabin door near the middle of the skiff. Before she could disappear below Hoyle called out, “Do you know what you’re doing?” as he gestured to the cabin.
“Do you?” she called back, gesturing to the helm at the rear of the skiff he was headed for, and ducked down and out of sight.
“I certainly hope we both do,” Hoyle muttered under his breath as he approached the large wheel mounted vertically that was the helm of the sky skiff. He looked up to note that Salrissa and Robart had hauled the two guards over to the side of the rail on the catwalk side. Salrissa held ones bound arms, Robart the legs, and they swung him back and forth, then finally up onto the catwalk with a grunt. They did the same with the second, Robart brushing his hands off as he moved towards the stern. Valena stood in the middle of the deck by the small main mast looking a little uncertain of what to do.
Bells began to ring in the sky citadel and more guards appeared on the ramparts above, bows in hand.
“Find cover!” he shouted to the three remaining on deck. Salrissa vanished into the shadows to the side of the cabin, while Valena and Robart hurried into and down the small ships ladder into the main cabin below. He looked back up, crouching behind the helm, on the wrong side to really pilot the ship, when he saw the archers shoot their arrows into the night breeze, to rain down upon the ship from on high. This has to look real, but we can’t die doing it!
Suddenly small flashes of light began to sparkle above them as the arrows were deflected away from the main deck harmlessly into the night. He smiled, Celia had thought ahead.
“Robart and Valena, get up here!” he shouted towards the cabin.
Robart poked his head out, looking up at the flashing lights the arrows were creating. “What?!”
“Get up here and help me set the sails!” he ordered as he moved to the main mast and started hauling on the main line to raise the sail. Robart joined him moments later to help him finish setting it in place. The main sail flapped in the strong breeze, the skiff pointed in the wrong direction, and the wind curling off the tall wall paces away.
The hail of arrows had stopped after the second volley, as some disturbance had started atop the walls. They stopped for a brief moment as Robart and he looked up to see a flurry of activity and shouts as combat became heated. He admired Salrissa’s proclivity to cause chaos when she so chose.
“Go set the side jibs into position, or as close as you can. As we rise out of the slings, swing the port side out first, then the starboard side.” He watched as Robart looked on in confusion. “The left sail, then the right.” He pointed to each as he clarified.
“What can I do?” Valena asked with quiet determination. Hoyle grabbed her shoulder and moved her over to a lever in the middle of the deck, just slightly behind the main mast.
“Once we clear the webbing, and I tell you, pull this lever up.”
“But what will that do?” she asked.
“When I tell you, just do it,” he answered, moving back towards the helm. Suddenly the skiff lurched in its sling, tossing Hoyle sideways, almost to the deck. He heard Robart curse and looked up to see him rubbing his knee. Valena had grabbed the mast to steady herself.
The skiff lurched again, this time upwards. Hoyle was prepared this time, but it still caused a stumble as he grabbed the helm. They were starting to rise out of the sling slowly, a handspan at a time.
Hoyle faced the bow of the small ship, looking across its eight spans of length and three spans abeam, and shouted out loudly over his shoulder towards the ramparts, “Salrissa, we’re leaving!”
He barked an order at Robart, who pushed out the port jib sail, which immediately caught the wind and began to turn the ship away from the wind. The main sail began to flap furiously. Robart strode over and pushed out the starboard sail, setting the locking pin in place. Hoyle called out “Valena, pull the lever!” The skiff was now about two spans above the webbing where it had rested moments ago, and climbing quickly towards the ramparts now full of soldiers fighting a shadowy opponent.
They couldn’t see it, but the lever Valena pulled had dropped the keel sail
below the skiff, steadying it and acting as ballast to the force of the wind against the main sail. They were climbing steadily, now almost even with the ramparts, so Hoyle ducked slightly behind the rail as several guards took aim with bows. The arrows sailed across the deck, the shield Celia cast above the ship useless now from this angle. Robart dove flat to the deck, and began crawling towards the cabin. Valena was already there.
“Salrissa!” he cried out once again at the top of his lungs, as they came level with and past the level of the ramparts. “We’re leaving!”
The shadowy figure that was dipping and dodging through the throng of guards, doing her best to do as little harm as possible, but cutting belt and scabbard straps, shallowly slicing the backs of hands causing swords to drop with curses, and cutting bowstrings, began to move toward the skiff through the throng of attacking men. She finally appeared out of the mass, stepping onto one soldier’s back as he was knocked off balance, then off another’s shoulder to the top of the stone battlements that looked like a beggar’s gapped teeth. Salrissa began to run along the stone battlements, leaping from one to the next, over soldiers’ swords and ducking arrows with uncanny precision, gaining speed with each stride. The skiff continued to gain altitude, the rail finally passing the level of the ramparts. Hoyle urged her on silently, putting all his will into her speed and her jump. She had always succeeded at tests like these in the past. Finally Hoyle watched her leap, and saw her hand miss the rail.
She did not scream as she fell.
Interludes II
Tarl
Tarl had been drinking. It was what he did when off duty in the Goralonian King’s Guard. Those off duty went drinking at the local tavern, The Lifted Skirt. The ale was strong, the food bad, and the music loud, but it was also the closest one to the castle. But that was not the only reason he went there. It was because of her, with her pale skin, long legs and deep black hair to the middle of her back. She had yet to notice him, of course, as he kept his head down and sat against the wall when drinking with his fellow guards.
Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) Page 17
