Marysvale

by Jared Southwick

  “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  “Where are you going?” asked Jane anxiously.

  “I want to explore the tunnel and see if I can find out where Naehume went.” I replied.

  “Be careful,” she said, with more than just a little fear in her voice.

  “I will.”

  I ran down the passage; but stopped at the door where Hannah had been tortured. I opened it and stepped inside.

  Three oil lamps still burned, suspended from the ceiling by chains. Directly under the lamps stood a wooden table with straps attached to it. A smaller table was positioned beside it, on which lay small bone-handled knives with long, thin blades of many different shapes. Some were curved and some had hooks on the end of them. A few still dripped with fresh blood. Chairs lined the wall, many of which had straps attached to them. I guessed they were used to restrain the prisoners who were forced to watch as their loved ones were slowly killed.

  I’d seen enough, and left the chamber. The tunnel grew darker as I continued down the passage. At its darkest point, it made a gentle turn, and I smelled something. Welcomed, fresh, rain-scented air reached my nose. Ahead of me, a movement caught my attention, and I froze. Using my extra vision, I could make out the figures of two men sitting on what I guessed to be large stones. One was yawning and covering his mouth. I was surprisingly close to an exit, for beyond them, I could see the tops of trees, blowing in the wind from the storm. And, although I could only see living things, I could tell by the shape and positions of their hands that they were both armed with muskets.

  Stealthily, I inched up to the men. For a moment, a moral war broke out in my mind on what I should do. These men haven’t done anything to me; they’re simply doing their duty. Of course, that duty is to protect the entrance of a tunnel that allows access for the Brean into the castle—the same Brean that are to return later to feast upon our corpses. And, I told myself, I had no doubt that these men had heard and knew what happened in the chamber at the end of this cavern. Plus, if given the opportunity, I suspect that they would have no qualms about stopping us from escaping and return us to the dungeon. With the war decided, I drew the dagger from my belt.

  I silently crept within a few feet of them and sprang into action. I ran up behind the larger of the two men and slammed the hilt of my weapon into the back of his head. As he crumbled to the ground, unconscious, I reached around and snatched the musket from his limp hand. Whipping it up, I aimed it at the other soldier who had been taken completely by surprise and had barely registered that something was amiss. He looked at me stupidly, trying to grasp what was going on. His mind eventually caught up, and he attempted to raise his musket.

  “That will be the last mistake you make,” I growled. “Better for your health if you drop it.”

  He hesitated, and then, apparently agreeing with me, dropped his musket.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Who are you?” He asked in a rough voice. His face was now absent of any stupid stare as he glared at me with a hard one.

  “When I want to hear from you, I’ll let you know.” I barked. “Now back up against the wall.”

  He hesitated again and didn’t move. I wondered if he regretted his decision, perhaps thinking it was better to die at my hands than back in the chamber. Would they really do that? I questioned. Of course they would.

  As fast as I could, I kicked out hard and hit him in the chest. He flew back and his body smacked against the side of the cave.

  He cursed and stood up, rubbing his head. He was a little smaller than me, but his demeanor showed that what he lacked in size, he made up for in tenacity.

  “Follow my commands that slowly again and I’ll kill you.”

  He continued his glare.

  “Now, put your hands behind your head.”

  He did so, slowly.

  Keeping my eyes on him, I cautiously bent down and picked up his fallen musket.

  With that secured, I backed up a few feet to put some distance between us, just in case he tried something. I looked around.

  The mouth of the cave had been secured by heavy, double wooden doors that were now propped wide open, allowing the fresh, cool air inside the musty cavern. Near the doors, in each side of the cave walls, two cavities had been chiseled out of the rock; and four large barrels were nestled within each recess. Leaning one of the muskets against the wall, I used the tip of the dagger and pried up one of the lids. They were filled with black powder.

  “What are these for?” I demanded, though I already had a pretty good idea.

  He didn’t answer.

  I walked up to him and slammed the butt of the musket hard into his gut, then backed up a few steps as he doubled over.

  He groaned for a moment and then, while crouched, he lunged at me; but I was ready for such a trick. Starting at my thigh and moving upward, I swung the butt of the musket in a rising arc until it connected with his face, ripping his head back and knocking him against the wall. He leaned over, spitting blood and teeth from his mouth.

  Calmly, I repeated, “What are these barrels for?”

  He spat out more blood, but didn’t answer.

  I took another step forward, and he quickly answered, “They are to detonate and seal the entrance if needed.”

  Just what I thought.

  “Now, pick up your friend and carry him.”

  He bent down and heaved the unconscious man over his shoulder.

  I gestured with the musket, indicating to go back the way I’d come. He set off up the dark tunnel. I scooped up the second musket and followed.

  I didn’t trust him in the dark, so I opened up my vision to keep an eye on the stubborn soldier. It was a good thing I did, because in the darkest part of the tunnel, he slipped a hand under his clothes and withdrew something.

  Sticking the point of the bayonet into his back, I threatened, “I bet I can pull this trigger faster than you can turn around and stick me with that.”

  “How can you see?” he asked, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice.

  Poking the sharp point in a bit further, I replied, “I said, when I want to hear from you, I’ll tell you. Now drop it.”

  He did.

  It turned out that having a bayonet stuck in his back was a good motivator and, in no time, the light from the torches grew, until we passed the torture chamber and emerged into the dungeon.

  The women registered a brief look of surprise and fear at the sight of the soldiers, but relaxed when they saw me behind them, now armed.

  “Put your friend into one of the cells,” I ordered.

  He obeyed.

  “Now, lie down.”

  He started to, but Jane stopped him. “Wait, take off your clothes.”

  “What?” we both said in unison.

  “Did you find a way out?” she asked me.

  “Yes,” I replied, not seeing the point.

  “And I suppose your plan involves riding horses?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I don’t want to be stuck in this,” she said, drawing out her dress.

  I shrugged, “Please yourself.” Then, addressing the soldier, I ordered, “Do as she said.”

  He made no attempt.

  “Very well—we’ll do it the hard way.”

  I walked up to him.

  “No,” he said quickly. “That won’t be necessary.” And he stripped down to his undergarments.

  “I want clothes, too,” said Hannah weakly.

  I nodded. “We can use Lyman’s.”

  “Please,” she begged. “Not his.”

  The soldier, hearing Lyman’s name, perked his head up and noticed the body lying on the ground.

  “Is he dead?” he asked in astonishment.

  I didn’t bother replying and commanded him to lie down and put his arms behind his back.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m not going to discuss anything with you,” I replied.

  “T
hen I’m not cooperating.”

  “That can easily be solved,” I said, and I aimed the musket at him.

  He closed his eyes and tensed his muscles, expecting the worse.

  Instead of shooting him, I slipped silently behind him and knocked him out.

  Quickly, I obtained the clothes for Hannah, and then tied and gagged both soldiers. After retrieving their pouches of ammunition, I brought the uniforms to the waiting women.

  “Why did you tie them up?” asked Jane. “I don’t think they will be able to do much harm locked up.”

  “So they can’t undo their gags. I don’t want them calling out to anyone for help.”

  “Oh,” she said simply, and then motioned for me to turn around so they could change.

  When Jane finished, both she and Sarah worked on Hannah, who remained remarkably quiet during the ordeal. The only sound she made was an occasional sharp intake of pain as they dressed her.

  “All done,” said Jane.

  “Good. I’ll need your help, Jane. Sarah, you stay here with Hannah.”

  “No,” cried Hannah.

  “We’ll be right back,” I promised.

  “Please don’t leave us here,” she pleaded. “What if they come back?”

  I thought about that.

  “She has a point,” reasoned Sarah. “We don’t know when they will return, and if they do, neither of us are in shape to do anything, other than get recaptured.”

  “Very well,” I agreed. Then, turning to Jane, I asked, “Can you help Sarah?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll carry Hannah.”

  “John,” said Jane.

  I looked at her, “Yes?”

  “What about father? How are we going to get him out?”

  It was the question I’d been dreading. I knew it was coming, but illogically I hoped it wouldn’t. Again, the images of his death flooded my mind and, again, I relived the heartache…and now Jane and Hannah would have to endure it, too. I didn’t know what to say. I studied my feet and waited for some type of inspiration, something that would lessen the blow and make it easier for them to take.

  “Well?” she asked again.

  “Jane,” I began softly, still hoping for that inspiration that wasn’t coming. “Your father is dead.”

  She was stunned.

  “I’m so sorry…. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

  Her emotions flowed into me. I could feel her shock, as well as her doubt that she’d heard me correctly; yet she knew that she had.

  “How?” she asked.

  “Lyman,” was all I could manage.

  Slowly, the shock gave way to grief, and tears welled in her eyes. Jane threw her arms around Hannah, and Sarah gently embraced them both. They all wept.

  Chapter Twenty: Out of the Dungeon

  AFTER several minutes, Sarah finally said, “I’m sorry we don’t have more time to mourn properly. If we are discovered, your father’s sacrifice will be in vain and we will all perish.”

  Jane nodded and released Hannah. Wiping her puffy, red eyes on her sleeve, she stood up. Wordlessly, she took one of the muskets from me, then went over and offered Sarah a hand.

  Sarah took it, rose to her feet, and put an arm around Jane to use her as a crutch.

  I gently scooped up Hannah, who felt amazingly light. She wrapped an arm around my neck, buried her head in my chest, and silently wept. Giving her a tender squeeze, I desperately wished I could take her pain for her; but the best I could do was to carry her and fulfill my promise to her father.

  Sarah searched Lyman’s coat and withdrew some gold coins, a timepiece, and a key. She deposited all of them into her pocket.

  We set off, retracing our steps back through the tunnel. Words of comfort finally came to me in the dimly lit passage. Hoping it would ease their grief some, I decided to share it.

  “Do you remember anything about your mother?”

  Hannah shook her head.

  “She is very beautiful.” I said.

  She continued crying for a moment until what I said had sunk in. Taking a sniff or two, she gained some composure, then lifted her head and looked at me, confused.

  I continued, “You and Jane look so much like her, but you even more so—especially your eyes. Though her smile is very much Jane’s.

  Now I had all their attention.

  “Do you remember my mother?” asked Jane.

  “No, not exactly…” Then, searching for the right words, I added, “It seems that, not only can I see into a living soul, but I can still see that soul for a short time after the death of the body. I was able to see your father when he died. Your mother came to meet him, and I saw her, too.”

  Drawing from my memory, I went on to describe my experience from the time their mother appeared. I told them how she looked with the light that filled and encompassed her being. I recounted their father’s words to her and her words to him. I told of the loving embrace they shared and how she filled her husband with that same light, as they peacefully departed this world.

  “Did you really see all that?” Hannah asked hopefully, wanting to believe it.

  “Yes. Every word of it is true, I swear it.”

  Longing for more, she asked, “Is that everything?”

  “Only one more thing: before your mother appeared, your father asked me to look after you. So, I suppose that puts me in charge. You’ll have to do what I say from now on.”

  She grinned at me weakly. “Now I know you’re lying…he wouldn’t dare.”

  I smiled and she rested her head against my chest.

  We reached the winding torch-lit stairs that led up to the castle. Using my sight, I checked for guards and found none.

  The ascension went better than expected, but still required a few rest stops, mostly for Sarah’s sake.

  During our last break, Hannah said, “You don’t have to carry me. I think I can walk.”

  “I don’t mind. Besides, it’s not you walking that worries me; it’s your ability to ride a horse.”

  “I can do that.”

  “By yourself?”

  She nodded.

  Voices drifted down the corridor as we reached the top of the stairs. Leaving Hannah propped against the wall, I investigated.

  Peering around the corner, I saw two women walking away from us. They took a few more steps before turning a corner and disappearing down another arched hallway. Their voices faded.

  Finding nothing else, I returned.

  “Who was it?” whispered Jane.

  “Two women I didn’t recognize,” I replied back in an equally soft whisper.

  “Do you have a plan?” asked Sarah quietly.

  “If we can get our horses, there is a way out through the dungeon.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us there was a way out when we were down there?” asked Jane.

  “It didn’t come up in conversation—and I assumed you knew.”

  “Did you know, Sarah?” asked Jane.

  She nodded. “After I was…questioned, I guessed that Naehume was getting in and out through there.”

  “And you plan on simply walking horses through the castle?” asked Jane skeptically.

  “It’s easier than breaking through both gates,” I replied. “Do you have another idea?”

  She thought about it, then shook her head. “Do you know where the horses are?”

  “Yes, in a stable in the courtyard.”

  “Then we should get moving.”

  “We have another problem,” I confessed. “There are two guards outside the main castle door.”

  “I think I know a better way out,” said Sarah. “Lyman brought me in through a side door. Since it was locked, there were no guards.”

  “If it is locked, then how are we going to open it?” asked Jane.

  Sarah withdrew the key retrieved from Lyman’s coat and replied, “With this. Follow me.”

  Wrapping an arm around Jane, she led us through the castle. We went through unfamiliar
passages, occasionally hiding when faint voices echoed through the halls, but no one ever materialized. It was remarkably quiet, as most of the castle’s inhabitants had already retired for the night.

  Halfway down a particularly long hallway, a burst of loud laughter, from somewhere farther down the hall, made us stop.

  “What do we do?” whispered Jane. “Do we keep going, or go back?”

  “How close are we?” I asked.

  “Almost there,” replied Sarah.

  “Almost where?” asked someone behind us with a deep, gruff voice.

  I turned, with Hannah still in my arms, and saw a large soldier walking down the corridor toward us. He had a pistol in one hand and a bottle in the other. I still had the musket cradled up underneath Hannah, which he didn’t seem to notice.

  He saw Hannah in my arms and eyed me suspiciously.

  “What’s this?” he demanded.

  His breath reeked of spirits and his uniform was in slight disarray. He didn’t look drunk, but then the pistol didn’t look exactly rock steady either. If I didn’t have Hannah, disarming him would have been easy enough; but as it was, I worried about him getting off a shot, or yelling for help.

  My brain raced for something to say and I stammered, “Uh…we are…uh…”

  He didn’t bother waiting for my reply. “Oi. You sneakin’ women into your quarters, ain’t you?”

  My brain still seemed locked, “Uhh…”

  “I gots eyes, don’t deny it. Just make things worse for you. Now get a move on,” he flicked his pistol toward the sound of the laughter, motioning for us to go there.

  Jane left Sarah’s side.

  “Oh, please don’t turn us in,” she pleaded, and then slipped between his arms so quickly, he didn’t know what to do. She pressed her body up to his and said seductively, while teasing his hair, “Surely there is something I can do to dissuade you.”

  He looked down at her alluring smile and a grin spread across his face, revealing rotting, black teeth. “Well now, perhaps there is something after all,” he said, in a pathetic attempt to match her seduction. Stuffing the pistol loosely into his belt, he placed his arm around Jane, and took a long swig from the bottle. “I know just the place,” he said, pinching her bottom.

  She giggled playfully, as I watched in horror.