by Damien Black
Gazing into the blazing firepit nearest to her she wondered if she would gain a glimpse of her future in the flames, as the mystics claimed one sometimes could. All that stared back at her was an orange flicker which dazzled her eyes as the fire scowled hotly. She did not think this a good presentiment.
She stinted on the wine and asked to be excused early. Her father, by now merrily in his cups, waved her away casually. Berthal looked over at her, with old eyes that seemed sad.
Did he have an inkling? No, he could not – he was far too ingenuous ever to suspect her of such a monstrous crime. As she smiled as fully as she could at him and rose from her seat, Adhelina felt a sense of everything falling away from her. It seemed then as if the world she had known was breaking into tiny pieces around her, whilst some unknown force propelled her up and up, into an infinity without colour or form.
My unknown future, she realised suddenly.
Gripping the back of her chair to steady herself she took a deep breath and a last look around the hall where she had eaten almost every day of her life since she was old enough to dine with the grown-ups.
From his seat near her Father Tobias looked up, his fat lips coated with grease, round black eyes peering at her.
‘My lady, are you well?’ he asked politely.
‘I am... quite well,’ she responded, hastily gathering her wits. ‘This wine is a little too strong for my liking is all. I shall retire to rest now, I think.’
The sententious perfect nodded and began an impromptu sermon about the wisdom of young high-born ladies steering clear of drink and other vices. She left him in mid-speech: she would certainly not miss his hypocritical moralising.
As she left the hall she reflected that perhaps packing her small collection of books hadn’t been such a good idea: clearly her imagination was inflamed by all that reading. Only now she was about to step into a real-life adventure of her own. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.
Making her way back to her chambers she nodded curtly at the two guards on the door before entering and bolting it behind her. Taking one last look at the bottom of the portal she nodded decisively: the gap between it and the floor was a good finger’s breadth at least. That would serve nicely.
Walking over to the walnut table she checked the herbal concoction she had prepared in a wooden bowl and made sure the flint and tinder next to it was dry and ready. Then she looked over the supplies Hettie had packed one last time.
Her jewels were secreted in leathern pouches that she would wear next to her body, beneath the folds of her robes. Her herbs and poultices she had taken down from their hangings and packed into a bag. Another contained some food Hettie had managed to scrounge from the kitchens. It could not be too much without arousing suspicion: some bread, dried fruits and hard cheeses that would keep on the road. Not enough to get them to Meerborg, but they could purchase more on the way.
She had yet to make up her mind whether they should stay at any inns. It might be too risky – but then she could hardly pitch up at the nearest knight’s manor and demand lodgings as the Eorl’s runaway daughter.
Pursing her lips as she considered the matter again she made sure the maps were also tucked safely into another bag that contained a change of clothes for both of them and a few other odds and ends. Once they collected their steeds from Merkstaed they would transfer most of this to the saddle bags Hettie had also purchased.
Taking a last fretful look out of the window across the broad expanse of fields and the river below, Adhelina could see the odd cottage fire defying the darkened firmament with a bright stab of orange. Off to the south-east the myriad lights of Merkstaed clustered thickly, wordlessly calling her to the first stage of her new adventure. Adhelina suppressed a shiver as the night breeze swept in.
Turning from the window she was about to light another lantern but then thought better of it. She was tired, the last few weeks of plotting had left her enervated. Best to get some rest before Hettie returned from her final supper at the castle – she would be needing all her strength before too long.
Casting herself down on her bed Adhelina soon drifted off into sleep, despite not having her lady-in-waiting’s reassuring warmth next to her.
She dreamed strange dreams.
She saw four riders making breakneck pace towards a dark forest. The forest looked thoroughly alien and unnatural, and she felt an urge to cry a warning to the riders from where she floated high above its writhing bourne. But a screaming pack of barbarians pursued them hotly, waving crude axes and swords that gleamed dully in the strange light. The hapless riders had no choice but to plunge headlong into the forest...
Then the scene changed. This time she saw a great host moving across the rolling plains of a land unknown to her. Knights in gleaming armour carried banners that rippled in the breeze; two unicorns danced about a white raven, and against the horizon towards which they moved a great castle burned...
Then she saw herself, in another forest. It was less malignant than the other one, but no less old; the boughs of gnarled oaks loomed over her menacingly, and beyond them a gibbous moon shone brightly against the black skies. Hettie was with her and they were holding hands. Next to them walked a cloaked and hooded figure with a sword at his belt. Suddenly they found themselves in a clearing. From beneath the damp eaves on all sides there loomed white-faced giants, reaching for them with two-fingered hands. Eyes and mouths gaped at them from otherwise blank, featureless faces...
Adhelina woke with a start. She was covered in a cold sweat, and it took her several moments to remember where she was. Then she heard a sharp report on the door followed by a voice.
‘M’lady! Are you in there? It’s me, Hettie! Unbolt the door!’
Pulling herself upright Adhelina strode briskly over and unbolted it. Opening it she saw her lady-in-waiting and both guards peering at her with anxious faces.
‘I fell asleep,’ said Adhelina. ‘Too much wine is all. Nothing to worry about.’
This mollified the guards, who resumed their posts to either side of the door. Adhelina shut and barred it again after Hettie had stepped inside.
‘I had the most frightful dreams,’ she said distractedly as Hettie went to check their bags herself one last time.
‘I’m hardly surprised,’ Hettie replied absently as she busied herself. ‘My nerves are all a’jangle – I was sat next to Lady Mila, you know her, the wife of Sir Jordun of Ingolstein, and what d’you think she’s on about the whole evening? “Must be excited now your mistress is getting married, Hettie – it’ll soon be time to find you a husband as well! Who knows, with your mistress’ influence you might even get married to a well-off vassal like I was!”’
Hettie rolled her eyes, trying to make light of the situation. ‘Lord Almighty, that was the last thing I wanted to talk about on tonight of all nights!’
‘Yes well, it’s hardly surprising that’s all anyone should want to talk to you about just before my big day,’ replied Adhelina.
Her voice still sounded more distracted than sarcastic in her ears. Though the memory of her dreams was already fading it still left an unpleasant imprint at the back of her mind.
Hettie must have sensed this. Fixing her mistress with a quizzical stare she asked: ‘Are you quite well, m’lady? Last-minute nerves getting to you I should imagine, no wonder you’re having nightmares! There’s some wine left over – shall I pour you some?’
Adhelina shook her head. ‘Heavens no, that’s the last thing I need right now. I’ll be fine – let me make one last pot of herbal tea, to see us on our way.’
Hettie nodded dumbly, but continued to fix her mistress with the same quizzical look. Then she suddenly walked over to her and took her by the hands.
‘Oh Adhelina!’ she said earnestly. ‘You know... if you don’t want to go through with this, it isn’t too late – to turn back I mean.’
Gazing down into her dearest friend’s eyes Adhelina could see in a heartbeat that this was what she wante
d her to say with all her heart.
With a twinge of profound sadness and pity she shook her head and said: ‘It is too late, dearest Hettie – I made up my mind a long time ago. You know, in a funny way I feel that it was always going come to this... that somehow I’ve known my whole life it would. Dreams can point the way to our destinies, and some birds were never meant to be caged.’
Hettie’s look changed to one of consternation. ‘What are you speaking of now?’ she frowned. ‘Why, but you’re babbling – are you sure you are well?’
Adhelina smiled and nodded. ‘I am quite well, Hettie – indeed in some ways I think I may never have been quite so well, though I am all afraid too. But listen, if you don’t want to come with me, you don’t have to – you’ve already helped me, you can stay here if you like.’
Hettie’s frown deepened. ‘And do what? Explain to your father how I let you slip out from under my nose?’
‘You could say I drugged you, why I could even - ’
Hettie shook her head. ‘I won’t hear this, m’lady. If you’re going, I’m going. Simple as that. We agreed on this a fortnight ago and I won’t waste time and energy debating it.’
Adhelina hugged Hettie and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. ‘Dearest Hettie, I believe the whole world wouldn’t hold half its allure for me if I didn’t have you by my side! How I love thee!’
‘And I you, my mistress,’ replied Hettie, blinking away tears. ‘I wouldn’t be parted from you for half the world, nor all of it either!’
Adhelina felt her nerves subside a little. It was good to know she wouldn’t be facing her new unpredictable life alone. By the time they settled down to one last brew she almost felt calm.
When they were done guzzling tea, Adhelina bade Hettie fetch the thick scarves they would use as veils.
‘Remember, it’s very potent, so not even having the window open will avail you if you inhale a full draught,’ she whispered. The crackling of the fire Hettie had made to ward off the night-time chill also served to muffle their voices – but even so whispering seemed more appropriate when discussing their escape.
‘Very good, m’lady: but how will you get the guards to inhale it on the other side of the door?’ Hettie whispered back.
‘Easy – the gap beneath it’s more than a finger wide,’ explained Adhelina. ‘I’ll use my old bellows I need for getting inhalant poultices into vials to suck up as many of the fumes as I can and then just blow them under the door. They won’t know what’s hit them!’
‘Will it... poison them?’ asked Hettie nervously. ‘The guards are only doing their duty, after all.’
Adhelina just laughed. ‘No, don’t be silly! Morphonus’ Root is a powerful sleeping agent – it’ll put you out for hours, but it won’t harm you! And I’ve written a note explaining everything, so father will know not to punish them for falling asleep on the job.’
Hettie bit her lip. ‘Assuming he doesn’t just have their heads off straight away,’ she said reproachfully. ‘As you’ve always pointed out yourself, your father’s a man of action not words.’
‘But old Berthal can read, and so can Lotho,’ replied Adhelina, unmoved. ‘And there’s Tobias, pompous fool that he is. If my father struggles with his letters, there are those who can help him. And I don’t believe he would have loyal men summarily executed without investigating the matter first.’
Hettie sighed nervously. ‘I can only pray you are right, m’lady,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want their deaths on my conscience.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll leave the note in plain view. They won’t be punished unduly.’
Privately she could only hope she was right about that – her father was going to be furious when he found her gone. But she had to do this: she felt with all her heart it was her life on the line too, in a manner of speaking at least.
After that it was a matter of hunkering down and waiting for the appointed hour. They dressed for the road and gathered their bags about them. The guards on the door would not be relieved until dawn – that would give them plenty of time to put some distance between themselves and the castle, assuming their rendezvous with the ostler at the Wytching Hour went as planned.
Thinking on this Adhelina suddenly felt nervous again – Hettie had portrayed him as a slippery character, whose loyalty was uncertain at best. She hoped he would be loyal to the prospect of gaining further coin, and pushed the doubt from her mind.
The fire was burning low in the grate when the time came to go. It was just over an hour before midnight – all the castle occupants would be sound asleep by now. Wrapping their veils of thick cloth tightly about their faces the damsels prepared to make good their escape.
Taking up the wooden bowl Adhelina placed it gingerly on the floor by the door. Then she brought the bellows and her flint and tinder over. Hettie stood behind, sweating uncomfortably in her thick clothing, their bags at the ready beside her.
Taking up the flint and tinder Adhelina struck it and soon had a flame burning. She set light to the herbs prepared in the bowl before her. They began to burn immediately, emitting a thick, pungent smoke. Taking up the bellows quickly Adhelina teased as much of the fumes as she could into them before gingerly putting the nozzle to the gap beneath the door and squeezing.
She knew she had to move swiftly: as like as not the guards would be less than alert after standing still for several hours, but they would soon notice the strange smoke wafting around their knees.
Fortunately the root was powerful, and she had put in enough to knock out a dozen horses. Holding her breath she sucked in more of the cloying smoke, before pumping it under the door again. Twice more she repeated the exercise, still holding her breath.
Still she did not hear the guards stir.
Some of the stray wisps that she hadn’t caught were starting to drift across her chamber; frantically Adhelina fought to keep her breath as she sucked up another gout of smoke and pumped it underneath the door.
Glancing over she saw Hettie, whose face was turning purple beneath her veil with the effort of holding her breath. If they had to take another breath their scarves might just protect them, but there was a chance they’d fall victim to the root too...
Then, like a blessing, the sound she had longed for came from the other side of the door.
‘Hey, can you smell anything?’ she heard one of the soldiers ask, followed directly by the sound of a mailed warrior slumping to the floor and the clatter of a spear being dropped. Two heartbeats later, the sound was repeated.
Motioning quickly to Hettie, Adhelina rose and unbarred the door. Flinging it open she saw both guards lying on the floor, one on top of the other, as tendrils of thick smoke curled towards the ceiling and danced hypnotic patterns in the smouldering torchlight.
Grabbing their bags both women nipped down the stairs as quickly and quietly as they could, gratefully inhaling deep lungfuls of untainted air.
Tiptoeing past servants’ quarters and guest chambers the two made their way to the bottom of the tower and into the south wing of the inner ward.
The ground floor of the tower abutted directly onto the south wing’s entrance chamber, and passing through the gothic archway connecting the two they emerged at its western end. Opposite them a grand crumbling staircase of cracked and pitted stone led up to the extended series of chambers reserved for her father and his servants. In the northern wall a pair of barred double doors led out into the ward’s flagstoned courtyard. The doors were flanked to either side by gothic-arched windows.
Keeping well away from these, they approached the side of the staircase closest to the eastern wall. Set against this were the four statues of the erstwhile rulers of Dulsinor, their graven forms staring sightlessly out at the windows looking into the courtyard.
The statue of Ulmo was second from the left. He was portrayed as a stocky, muscle-bound warrior clad in crude mail and helmet. His braided beard came down to his midriff and his broad hands rested on the hilt of his double-headed ax
e.
‘Keep an eye out, in case anyone comes from the courtyard!’ hissed Adhelina. ‘I need to find the secret catch.’
Reaching into her bag she pulled out her flint and tinder and a taper. She knelt to light it, before holding up the flaming brand to get a better look at Ulmo. She knew this was the riskiest part of their escape: a sleepless servant chancing to gaze out of a window from across the courtyard might just notice a light burning in the entrance hall where there should not have been. But it was a risk she had to take.
Hettie glanced about her nervously as time slipped by with a painful slowness.
‘I’ve got it!’ whispered Adhelina triumphantly, reaching around to the side of the statue where it met the ordure-stained wall behind and grasping the likeness of a dagger hilt at Ulmo’s belt. There was a distinct clicking sound as the disguised lever responded.
‘Here, help me pull it, old Ulmo’s heavy!’ said Adhelina.
With some effort they managed to open the secret door, of which Ulmo’s statue was but the frontispiece. Hettie had half expected it to make a dreadfully loud screeching noise – after all, how often had the secret door been used in the six hundred years since it was built?
But amazingly, it opened on hinges that moved as soundlessly as if they had been oiled just yesterday.
‘I can’t believe it still works after all this time!’ exclaimed Hettie.
Her mistress turned to favour her with a girlish grin. ‘I told you old Goriath knew a thing or two!’ she said.
Beyond the door a narrow flight of spiral stairs disappeared down into stygian blackness.
Hettie swallowed hard. ‘Do we really have to do this, m’lady?’ If she hadn’t been whispering her voice would have been small regardless.
‘Of course we do – stop asking silly questions. Don’t worry, I don’t mind going first.’
