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The Royal Ranger: The Missing Prince

Page 23

by John F. Flanagan


  * * *

  • • •

  In the chamber on the sixth floor, Maddie waited impatiently. She knew Will would have to time his movements to coincide with the sentry, but he seemed to be taking an interminable time about it, she thought.

  She had gained entry to the same room with no problem. The window was still unlatched from where she had opened it the night before. Obviously, the chamber was unoccupied. Tonight she had brought with her a bent piece of wire, which would let her hook the latch behind them when they made their way back down. That way, there would be no evidence of the route taken by the escaping prince.

  She peered out the window, looking down, waiting for Will to appear. There was no fear that she might be seen. She was halfway around the curve of the tower wall, concealed from the sentries’ view. Then she saw the dark shape moving on the wall below her, scrabbling his way out and around the curve of the tower to a point where he too was concealed from the battlements. She gave a soft whistle and saw the pale oval of his face as he looked up, spread-eagled on the wall. She lowered the rope that she had ready until it reached him, then secured it to the leg of the bed in the room with a series of half hitches.

  Taking hold of the rope, Will leaned back, placed his feet against the rough surface of the wall and began to climb.

  “It’s all right for you to go climbing up the wall like a giant spider,” he had told her earlier. “But I’m older and heavier than you. I’ll use a rope, thank you very much.”

  In spite of his protestations, he climbed quickly, and when he slid over the windowsill to join her he was barely breathing hard. He’s very fit, she thought, and led the way to the door.

  There was no need for them to speak. They had planned their movements meticulously during the day. As before, she eased the door open and checked the central space outside. There was no sign or sound of movement, so the two of them, moving like silent shadows, made their way across to the stairway and started up.

  This was familiar ground to her now, and she had briefed Will thoroughly. As they went higher, they began to hear the mutter of voices drifting down the stairway from the seventh floor. The guards weren’t as noisy as the previous night. But then, it was much later and probably some of them were dozing while the others kept watch. She signaled upward with her thumb and the two of them slid round the banister pole and started up to the top floor.

  They wasted no time looking round the big open space but headed directly to the window she had used the night before. Will unlocked it while she fastened the rope to a bed once more. They stood together, peering down at the window directly below them. She seized hold of the rope and started to climb onto the windowsill but Will stopped her, with a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ll go first,” he said softly. “When you see me go through the window, you follow me.”

  She nodded and stood aside as he climbed onto the windowsill and let his legs dangle over the long drop. He took hold of the rope and, in a smooth movement, swung out, placing his feet against the wall and walking himself down the tower to the window below. She craned out, watching him as he settled on the window ledge. The clouds cleared for a few moments. She saw the gleam of starlight on his saxe and heard a faint click as he unlatched the window. Then he went through the open window and disappeared from view. She took the rope in both hands and lowered herself over the edge, going hand over hand down the rope.

  * * *

  • • •

  One floor down, Will stood by the window, getting his bearings. The room was lit by the dim glow of a small lamp set on a table in the center of the room. Either Giles was a nervous sleeper or, more likely, the lamp was kept burning so the sentries could check on him from time to time. There would almost certainly be a spyhole in the door somewhere.

  Giles himself was flat on his back in a narrow bed set against the wall. The soft sound of his snoring indicated that he was fast asleep. A faint slithering sound from the window told Will that Maddie had followed him down. She swung her legs through the open window, then eased herself down into the room. He put a finger to his lips—an unnecessary warning, he realized—and pointed to where Giles was sleeping. He then pointed to himself, indicating that he would wake the prince.

  Maddie looked at the door. Outside, the guards seemed to have fallen silent. Or maybe the thickness of the door masked the sound of their soft conversation. She took a pace toward the door, her hand on the hilt of her saxe, and nodded to Will, indicating that she was ready.

  Will took a deep breath. This was going to be the tricky part, he thought, waking Prince Giles without having him make too much noise. He crossed silently to the bed and knelt beside it. He readied his hand above the prince’s open mouth.

  Just as well he’s sleeping on his back, he thought. Things would have been much more difficult if he had been on his side, facing the wall. He placed his mouth close to Giles’s ear, and dropped his hand over his mouth, holding him firmly, muffling any sound the prince might make, preventing him from crying out.

  He felt the young man’s body stiffen in alarm as he came awake, and heard a faint grunt as he tried to speak.

  “Don’t cry out, Prince Giles,” Will whispered in the prince’s ear. “We’re here to rescue you. Your father sent us. Relax. We’re friends.”

  He could see the prince’s eyes, wide and ringed with white, staring up at him. Gradually, as his words sank in, he felt the young man relax.

  “Do you understand?” Will continued, keeping his voice low and calm. “We’re friends. Don’t make a sound.”

  Giles nodded his head—insofar as he was able to nod under that iron grip. Will saw the alarmed look in his eyes drain away and the prince lay still.

  “I’m going to take my hand away,” he continued, maintaining a soothing, even tone of voice. “Don’t make a sound. All right?”

  Again, the prince nodded and Will slowly removed his hand, ready at a moment’s notice to replace it. But Giles was silent, apart from his ragged, panicky breathing. Will nodded encouragement. Keeping his face close to Giles’s ear, he continued to speak in the same quiet, soothing tone.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”

  41

  He eased his hand under Giles’s shoulders, raising him to a sitting position and turning him so his feet were on the floor.

  “We’re going out the window,” he said, indicating the open window a few meters away. Instantly, he felt Giles’s body stiffen and he saw the whites of his eyes widen in fear.

  “Don’t worry,” Will whispered, trying to sound as reassuring as possible while keeping his voice lowered. “We’ll have you on a rope and we’ll pull you up to the next floor. You won’t have to do anything.”

  The young prince shook his head. “But I can’t—” he began, fear causing his voice to rise to a dangerous level. Quickly, Will clamped his hand over the young man’s mouth again and shook his head.

  “Keep your voice down!” he whispered urgently. “The Baron’s men are just outside that door.”

  He felt the prince breathing rapidly, but some of the tension went out of his body and he looked at Will, motioning for the Ranger to remove his hand. Carefully, Will did as Giles requested, ready in an instant to clamp it back over his mouth if necessary.

  “But the height . . .” Giles whispered. “I have no head for heights.”

  Will patted his shoulder. “Just keep your eyes closed and we’ll do all the work,” he said. “Now come on.”

  With his arm around the young man’s waist, Will raised him to his feet and urged him toward the open window, where Maddie stood, her hand stretched out to him. Fearfully, Giles stepped across the room until he had taken Maddie’s hand. She drew him toward her so that he was leaning against the wall, to one side of the window. Will turned back to the bed and quickly stripped off the quilt. Rolling it into a cylinder, h
e lay it on the bed and pulled the blankets up over it. He regarded it critically. To a casual glance, it looked as if there were someone asleep in the bed.

  “That should do it,” he said to himself. Then he joined Maddie and Giles by the window.

  “You’ll have to go first,” Maddie told him. “I can’t pull him up by myself.”

  He nodded, and reached out the window for the dangling rope. As he did so, Giles, thinking he was about to be tied on and forced out the window, pulled away from Maddie’s grasp. There was a small table against the wall, with an unlit candle in a candlestick on it. The frightened prince bumped against it and before Maddie could reach it, the pewter candlestick toppled and fell, rolling off the table and onto the floor with a crash that sounded deafening to their highly strained senses.

  Instantly, Will flung his cloak over Giles and dragged the prince down to a crouched position beneath the window. Maddie froze against the wall, pulling her own cloak tight around her.

  There was a rattle from the door as the cover to the peephole was flung open. For a moment, a glimmer of light showed from outside the room, only to be snuffed out as someone put their eye to the peephole.

  Fortunately, the window wasn’t in a direct line with the peephole. It was off to one side. Maddie’s heart pounded against her ribs, then she heard the peephole cover closing and a voice from outside the door.

  “It’s all right. He’s still asleep.”

  They waited for several minutes, making sure the guards were satisfied. Then Will swung himself up onto the windowsill, gripped the rope and started climbing.

  Maddie watched the end of the rope jerking in time to his movements. Then it fell slack and she knew he’d reached the window above them. A minute or so later, the rope reappeared, jerking up and down several times as he signaled to her. She leaned out the window, caught the loose end and brought it inside, knotting it quickly around Giles’s body, under his arms. Giles whimpered, looking fearfully at the window and sensing the long drop below it.

  “Come on,” she said, urging him toward the window. But he shook his head and pulled away, muttering indistinctly.

  She put her mouth close to his ear and spoke urgently, albeit in a lowered tone. “For pity’s sake, get a grip. If you keep making noise, they’ll be in here and we’ll be captured. Now come on!”

  Again, Giles shook his head and tried to pull away from the open window. Finally, Maddie’s patience gave out. Quickly, she drew her saxe and slammed the hilt against the side of Giles’s head, stunning him. As his knees gave way, she caught him and draped him over the windowsill to prevent him falling to the floor. She tugged fiercely on the rope and felt it tighten as Will began to haul the dazed prince up. She guided his legs and feet out the window and watched as he slowly rose, in a series of small jerks, out of sight.

  It seemed like an eternity before the rope dropped outside the window once more. She seized it, slipped the loop around her shoulders, then went out the window and climb-walked up the tower wall to the top floor. She went headfirst over the sill, rolling to her feet and casting the rope to one side. Will was kneeling beside Giles, who was shaking his head blearily.

  “What happened?” he asked her.

  She shook her head angrily. “He panicked and I had to knock him out.” She let go a huge sigh of relief, feeling the tension of the last few minutes releasing as her heart rate slowed. They were out of Giles’s chamber, away from his guards. Now it was a simple matter of making their way down to the sixth floor and lowering him to the walkway on the wall.

  And if he doesn’t go quietly, she thought, I’ll knock him senseless again.

  Will was heaving Giles to his feet. The Gallican prince shook his head, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Are you all right?” Will said, and Giles nodded uncertainly. Will led him to the door, one hand under his elbow. He paused again and laid his ear against the rough wood of the door. There was no sound from outside. “Okay,” he said. “It’s all clear. Just follow me and stay quiet. If anything—”

  He got no further.

  The door crashed open and the room was flooded with light as Baron Lassigny and half a dozen armed men burst in from outside.

  “Well, well,” said the Baron in a voice thick with sarcasm. “It seems the jongleur has come to sing you to sleep.”

  His eyes shot to Maddie as she made a belated attempt to draw her saxe. “Don’t do it!” he warned her.

  Will gestured for her to stop. “Leave it, Maddie,” he ordered. Against so many men armed with swords and clubs, their two saxes would be hopelessly overmatched.

  As Maddie let the weapon drop back into its sheath, the Baron signaled his men forward.

  “Tie them up,” he ordered. “They’re under arrest.”

  TO BE CONTINUED

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  With thanks to Joel Salom for teaching me the basics of juggling. A great teacher with a lousy pupil.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JOHN FLANAGAN grew up in Sydney, Australia, hoping to be an author, and after a successful career in advertising and television, he began writing a series of short stories for his son, Michael, in order to encourage him to read. Those stories would eventually become The Ruins of Gorlan, Book 1 of the Ranger's Apprentice epic. Now with his companion series, Brotherband, the novels of John Flanagan have sold millions of copies and made readers out of kids the world over. Mr. Flanagan lives in the suburb of Mosman, Australia, with his wife. In addition to their son, they have two grown daughters and four grandsons. You can visit John Flanagan at www.WorldofJohnFlanagan.com

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