The Royal Ranger: The Missing Prince

by John F. Flanagan

  Orienting herself, she moved to one of the windows set round the wall, judging that it would correspond to the room below, outside which the guards were stationed. She leaned out and peered down. There was a window some four meters below her and she could see a gleam of light coming from it.

  “That must be where they’re holding Giles,” she muttered to herself, and uncoiled the length of rope that was around her shoulders. She looked around for a point to anchor the rope and selected one of the bunks. She tested it, pushing against it to make sure it wouldn’t slide across the floor when she committed her weight to it. She didn’t want any noise to alert the guards who were directly below. But the bunk was solidly built from heavy timbers and she couldn’t budge it.

  Quickly, she knotted the end of the rope round the leg of the bunk and went to the window.

  * * *

  • • •

  “He’s on the seventh floor, in an outside chamber,” Maddie said. Will glanced casually at the tower, scanning upward to the second-last floor.

  “You’re sure it’s him?” he asked.

  Maddie shrugged. “As sure as I can be. I climbed to the eighth floor and let myself down on a rope to look in the window. He’s a young man, a little below average height and wearing expensive clothes. Who else could it be?”

  “Does he look like the portrait the King showed us?” Will asked.

  Maddie hesitated. “Who does look like their portrait?” she said finally. “It could be him, but I suspect the portrait painter erred on the side of flattery when he did that painting. For a start, he gave him a chin. But there is a strong resemblance to the King himself.”

  It was the morning after Maddie’s exploration of the tower. They were strolling in the garden area once more—the best place to keep their conversation private. Aside from a few words when Maddie returned to the common room the night before, it was the first time they had had to compare notes.

  “What’s on the top floor?” Will asked.

  “It’s open space. I’d say it’s intended to be part of the castle’s defenses in case of an attack. There’s access to the flat roof above it, and there are racks of crossbows and weapons and bunks for troops.”

  “And you didn’t make contact with him last night?”

  Maddie shook her head. “I didn’t. I figured there’d be a risk we might be overheard by the guards outside. And I knew we’d have to contact him again to get him out. I thought this way I’d halve the risk.”

  Will considered this for a few seconds. “Good thinking,” he said.

  “How will we get him out?” Maddie asked.

  Will rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger. “I guess we can get him out of the tower easily enough. We’ll take him back up to the top floor, then down the stairs and out through the window on the sixth. We can lower him on a rope if he’s not up to climbing.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “He’s a Gallic prince. I doubt he’s up to climbing. Or much else.”

  “Getting him out of the castle is another matter. The only way out is the main gate and the causeway. We’ll hide him in the stables until the sixth hour, when the gate opens each day. The kitchens don’t start serving breakfast until the eighth hour, and we’ve seen that he’s fed after everyone else’s meals are served. Odds are, nobody will discover he’s missing until his meal is delivered. So we’ll ride out, saying we’re exercising the horses. We can steal a horse for him and he can come a few meters behind us.”

  Will nodded toward the main gate. “I’ve been watching the guards at the gate over the past few days and, while they check on people coming in, they don’t take too much notice of people leaving the castle. I guess they think if you’re in here, you’ve already been checked. But if the worst comes to the worst, and we can’t bluff our way out, we may have to fight. There are six guards at the gate, but if we take them by surprise, we should make it out. While we’ve distracted the guards, he can ride out. Then we ride as if the devil is after us.”

  Maddie pursed her lips. “That’s one too many ‘if’s for my liking,” she said.

  Will shrugged. “Can you think of another way?”

  She shook her head.

  “Neither can I. And at least this plan is simple, which is all to the good.”

  “I suppose so,” Maddie agreed.

  “One thing,” Will said. “We’re going to have to do it in the next two days. I think Lassigny is getting suspicious about us. He was asking where you were last night and he’s engaged me to sing again on the sixth day—and I don’t think he liked my singing all that much.”

  “Suspicious? What does he suspect?” Maddie asked.

  Will shook his head. “We’re strangers. We’re foreigners. And he’s a man who’s up to his neck in plots and treachery. Men like that are always suspicious.”

  “Then the sooner we get the prince out the better,” Maddie said. “Let’s do it tonight.”

  Will thought about it for several seconds, then nodded slowly. “That’s what I was thinking,” he said.

  39

  They planned the rescue mission for the third hour after midnight. The moon was due to set at the first hour, and there was a heavy cloud cover, so they would have ample darkness and shadow to conceal their movements.

  This would be important if three of them were to make it down the outside of the tower and across to the stairs leading up to the ramparts without being seen by the sentries. It had been relatively easy for Maddie to manage this, but with three of them, the chances of being noticed were much higher—particularly as the prince was unused to moving without being seen.

  The day passed slowly. They visited the stables in the early afternoon, on the pretext of feeding and watering their horses and cleaning out their stall. They took their few belongings with them and concealed them in the back of the stall.

  Maddie forked extra straw into the stall, piling it at the rear. They would use it to conceal Prince Giles when he was in the stable. Will checked the leather bow case. It appeared to have been untouched since they had left it at the back of the stall. Both bows and quivers were still inside, as well as two double scabbards, each one with a saxe and a throwing knife.

  The one item Will didn’t take with him was his mandola. It hung on a peg outside his sleeping space in the keep, and it would be too obvious if he were to remove it to the stables—a clue that he was planning to leave.

  “Pity,” he said, regarding it as they returned to the common room. “I’ll miss that mandola.”

  Maddie smiled sympathetically. “Just as well it’s not your Gilet,” she said. The Gilet was Will’s pride and joy, a mandola made by one of Araluen’s finest luthiers, which had been given to him many years prior. It was a very expensive instrument, and he had decided not to risk it to the rigors of travel.

  The evening meal was served at the usual time. It was a rich vegetable stew, with fresh, crusty bread from the kitchen and jugs of ale, wine and water on the table. Maddie’s stomach was churning with anticipation of the coming action and she picked at her food until Will admonished her.

  “Eat up,” he said. “You won’t be getting breakfast and you don’t know when your next meal is going to be.”

  She nodded, realizing the good sense of his statement, and applied herself to the task of finishing the bowl. The food served in the common hall was simple and the menu unvarying. But it was tasty and nourishing all the same—although this time, she might as well have been eating straw for all the flavor she found in her food.

  They finished the meal with coffee, sweetened with honey as usual. Will had prevailed on one of the servers to provide a small bowl for them at each meal.

  As the platters and bowls were cleared away, the people in the common hall broke up into small groups, pulling their stools into circles and talking and laughing together while they finished the ale and the wine. Will pushed back
his stool from the table and rose.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  Maddie yawned as he said it. She had been awake most of the previous night and had had no chance to catch up on her sleep during the day. But as they headed toward the sleeping niches set around the wall, a servant intercepted them.

  “How about a few songs, jongleur?” he asked. His tone was friendly and he gestured toward a small group of his fellow workers who were gathered in a half circle, watching hopefully. Will hid his reluctance behind a smile. After all, no jongleur would refuse such a request, as it would provide an opportunity to earn a little extra money.

  As he took the mandola down from its peg, he was glad he had decided not to take it to the stables with their other belongings. Its absence might have been difficult to explain. He moved to the small semicircle of expectant staff, hooking a stool with his foot as he went and positioning it in front of them. A few other people in the room, seeing he was preparing to sing, moved to join the audience. Maddie, deciding that her absence might be noticed, took a seat at the rear of the audience, where she could lean back against one of the long tables.

  It’s all right for you, she thought to herself as Will launched into his opening song. This gives you something to take your mind off things, while I’m sitting here thinking about all that can go wrong.

  The tight knot of tension was back in her stomach. Waiting was always the hardest part, she thought. In spite of the tension, or perhaps because of it, she yawned hugely. She closed her eyes, hoping that the sweet sound of the mandola and Will’s soothing voice might help her relax.

  After several minutes, she sensed movement in the people around her and opened her eyes, looking around the room. The seneschal, Sir Gaston, had entered the room and was scrutinizing the occupants with his gaze. Seeing Will performing to a small but attentive audience, he watched for several minutes, his foot tapping in time to the music. Will looked up, caught his eye and acknowledged him with a slight bow of the head.

  Sir Gaston nodded in return, then turned away and headed for the large doorway. Odds are, he was on his way to the dining hall on the next floor, where he would report to the Baron.

  Just as well that servant asked you to sing, Maddie thought. Sir Gaston will report that all is normal in the common room.

  Will sang another two songs after the seneschal had left, then brought the performance to a close. The audience clapped appreciatively and, one by one, they rose to drop a coin or two into his hat, which was laid on a bench beside him. Then they drifted away, breaking up into smaller groups.

  Will scooped the money into his belt purse, then hung the mandola on its peg once more. Maddie noticed his hand lingered on its polished wood surface for a few seconds, as he stroked the instrument in a private gesture of farewell. Then he caught her eye and nodded meaningfully at her sleeping niche.

  She rose and moved to the narrow bed, removing her boots and swinging her legs up onto the mattress before pulling her blanket up around her. Will peered round the end of her curtain.

  “I’ll wake you at three,” he said.

  She nodded. She knew he had an uncanny knack of waking himself at any hour he pleased. He pulled the curtain shut, cutting out the dim light from the common room. Maddie lay on her back, breathing deeply, listening to the muted conversations around the room.

  She noted the strange phenomenon that, when a person is half asleep but conscious, they can hear the voices around them more clearly, and listen in on conversations that are being carried on in lowered tones some distance away.

  She yawned again but sleep eluded her, even as the room outside her niche grew quieter and darker and people drifted off to bed, dousing their lanterns as they went. Her mind raced, going over their plan, listing the things that could go wrong.

  The curtain wall sentry might see her, or Will, as they climbed the tower. What if Prince Giles cried out in alarm when they entered his tower room, alerting the guards outside his door? What if he lost his nerve and made a noise or fell, when they hauled him up to the top floor? What if they were spotted as they descended from the sixth floor to the battlements? What if the stable master woke when they entered the stables to wait for the morning?

  What if, what if, what if? She had told Will there were too many “if”s involved in this rescue attempt. Now all of them crowded into her mind, dispelling any possibility of sleep, leaving her tossing and turning on the thin, straw-filled mattress.

  The watch tower bell struck twelve. She counted the strokes. But her mind was racing and she couldn’t sleep. Still wide-awake, she heard it strike one, then two. Then, perversely, in the last hour, she drifted off, waking suddenly when Will’s hand shook her shoulder gently. As she did, she heard the bell finish striking three.

  “Time to go,” Will whispered.

  40

  The main door to the keep was supported by rusty hinges that creaked loudly when the door was opened or shut. By day, this wasn’t too big a problem, as the sound blended into the ambient noise of the comings and goings in the courtyard outside.

  But now, in the still of the early morning, all was silent outside and the squeaking hinges would be audible around the courtyard and on the battlements. Will had brought a small bottle of thin oil with him and they paused inside the door as he poured liberal amounts over the three large hinges.

  Maddie fidgeted impatiently as they waited for the oil to penetrate the crevices in the hinges and lubricate the metal. Will frowned at her and mouthed the words, Be still. She sighed quietly and tried to settle down. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Will nodded to her and took hold of the large metal ring that opened the door latch. He turned it and eased the door open several centimeters, testing the effect of the oil.

  There was an initial squeak as the door first moved, then the hinges fell silent as the oil smoothed their movement. Will opened the door a few more centimeters. There was no further noise and he opened the door wide enough to let Maddie pass through.

  “Go,” he said softly.

  She slipped through the narrow gap and, hugging the wall, turned left, away from the tower. They had planned this earlier. If they were seen crossing the courtyard, it was better that they weren’t seen heading for the tower where Giles was kept prisoner. Will had decided that they should make for the stables first, then, keeping close to the base of the curtain wall, move around to the stairs leading up beside the southwest tower, staying in the deep shadows under the walkway.

  He watched as Maddie’s dark form crossed to the stables, then disappeared in the shadow. Then he slipped round the door, closing it gently behind him, and followed her.

  The courtyard on this side wasn’t completely empty, another reason for choosing this route. There were stone benches, a drinking trough for horses and several mounting blocks on the way, each of them providing cover to conceal their furtive progress from any eyes that might happen to look their way. Will slipped from one piece of cover, from one area of shadow, to the next. He moved swiftly, but without undue haste that might attract attention or catch a sentry’s peripheral vision.

  He passed the stables, sheltering for a few seconds in the deep shadow under its recessed main door. He waited, watching and listening, to see if there was any sign that their movement had been noticed. There was no outcry, no sound of alarm, so he continued, slipping across the last piece of open ground to the line of shadow under the walkway. As he ghosted his way into the concealing darkness, Maddie rose from a crouch in front of him. He nodded to her and jerked his head toward the stairway beside the southwest tower.

  They could hear the measured tread of the battlement sentries on the wooden walkway above their heads as they made their way with virtually no sound around the inner wall to the stairway. Maddie crouched at the base, waiting for him, and he signaled her to go ahead. On hands and knees, she swarmed up the s
tairs, staying close to the wall. He watched from below, seeing her freeze as the sentry’s footsteps approached. Then, as he turned away again, she continued to the top of the stairs, stopping just below the walkway level. Silently, Will followed her, reaching a spot just below her as the sentry returned.

  They had planned the next sequence of movements earlier in the day. As the sentry began his return patrol, Maddie slid over the top of the stairs and moved to the battlements alongside the tower. Will waited. There was no time for two of them to make it to the battlements at the same time, and not enough cover for two of them to stay concealed if they did. He peered carefully over the top of the stairs. The sentry was halfway along his prescribed beat. His opposite number was still far enough away not to notice Maddie’s dark form as she climbed onto the battlements, crouching low, then clambered onto the wall of the tower, moving out around the curve so that she was out of sight.

  Will waited, crouching in the darkness, as the sentry returned. He was confident in his ability to remain unseen—after all, he had been doing this sort of thing for over twenty years now. But still, his heart beat at an accelerated rate inside his chest. There was always the chance that something could go wrong.

  He counted slowly to himself, hearing the sentry come back, then turn away. He had to give Maddie time to climb to the higher level and lower a rope for him. He reached two hundred as the man was on his return path. He’d have to wait now until he reached the tower, turned again and headed back. He heard the footsteps grow louder. They stopped just above him and he heard the sentry yawn. Then his boots scraped on the walkway as he turned and headed off once more.

  Will rose to a crouch and swarmed across the walkway to the wall.