Kestrel went to the stairwell and pulled the unconscious guard into the empty cell, then went and got the dead guard. He started to undress the bodies to put their uniforms to use when Philip, Creata and the lantern came into the cell with him.
“I never thought I’d see you alive again!” Philip exclaimed as he hugged Kestrel. “What in the name of the gods are you? Other than the sweetest sight I’ve ever seen!” he grinned.
“Here, cup your hands,” Kestrel told them both, observing the lacerations on Philip’s scalp. He poured some of the healing spring water for each of them. “Drink half of that, and rub the rest of it on your sores and wounds. It’s from a spring with healing powers. That’s where the sprites took me, and that’s what saved my life.”
He watched both men obey him without question. “Now, where are the girls? Are they down here too?”
“No, we don’t know where they are. On the way into the palace they took us separate ways at the gate,” Philip answered.
“Put these uniforms on,” Kestrel indicated the guards. “There’s a prisoner named Carson in a cell. Is there anyone else we need to set free?”
“Set Carson free,” Philip told Creata. “In fact, go set them all free; no common criminal would be locked up in the palace,” he said as he removed the uniforms from the guards.
“What’s your plan?” Philip asked as he removed his own shirt.
“I don’t have a plan. I’m just here to set my friends free, and then I have to go set some of the Hydrotaz hostages free,” Kestrel admitted.
“Well, that seems to have worked well enough to have gotten you in here,” Philip replied, as he put the uniform shirt on. “But you’re going to need more than that to get out.”
“Why don’t you and Creata and I act as guards, and take these other prisoners through the palace to the back gate, where you all can escape, then I can go find the girls and set them free!” Kestrel suggested.
“What are the other options?” Philip asked.
Creata came back to the cell then, leading four other men, two of whom Philip knew and vouched for. As Creata began to change into his uniform, there was a sound outside, as a new shift of guards entered the chamber.
“Marchie?” a voice called. “Charrel?”
Kestrel pulled his bow off his shoulder, strung an arrow and went to the open cell door, then shot at the first man he saw, and fired a second shot that hit the leg of the other guard.
“Get these men, get their uniforms, and let’s question the live one about where the girls are held,” Kestrel directed the freed prisoners.
“You were quick to kill the one; was it necessary?” one of his freed prisoners asked.
“We are in the prison of a tyrant who is willing to kill thousands of people with his wars, and who will torture prisoners to death,” Kestrel found himself saying stridently. “We don’t have time to do anything but survive.”
He took a deep breath, as the others looked at him. “Put the two dead guards in one cell, and put each of the live ones in a cell of their own. We need to question them right now, and get out of here before someone notices the old shift didn’t come up, or before they send someone down to take one of you upstairs.”
The spell broke, and the prisoners sprang into action. Two other prisoners acquired uniforms, as the guard with an arrow in his leg was questioned about where the girls were held.
“They keep them in the south tower, on the top floor,” he answered. “I took one up there myself two days ago.”
With that Kestrel locked the door, then threw the keys into an empty cell.
“Is the south tower by the back gate?” h e asked.
“It is,” one of the other prisoners confirmed, one of the two who was still without a uniform.
“The south gate is where I came in, so it may be watched closely for a while,” Kestrel thought out loud, “but it’s easy to get to and easy to get away from. Let’s go in that direction and see what it looks like.”
“I know the way to the tower,” Creata said, and he led the group briskly through the halls and gardens of the palace, then stopped at a bushy spot outside a door. “That’s the tower,” he pointed up above them, where a tower only fifty yards away rose five stories above the ground. A pair of guards stood outside the door.
Kestrel unslung his bow again. “Start running, and as soon as you get there, pull their bodies inside, out of sight,” he directed. He calmly shot the first arrow, as the guards looked up in surprise at the men running towards them, then shot the second arrow, and both men toppled to the ground. He was about to put his bow away when the door opened, and he strung another arrow, which he fired as a guard inside the door looked out to investigate the noises, and then fell to the ground as well, halfway out the door, when Kestrel’s third arrow struck, and his sprinting companions arrived at the door.
Kestrel started to run towards them, and saw a struggle begin, as one of the prisoners went down, and someone inside the tower tried to push the dead body out of the doorway so that they could pull the door closed. Kestrel pulled his knife from his sheath as he ran, and as soon as he saw an arm stick into view, he released the knife, which flew to the door, then sharply veered within the narrow opening and disappeared from sight.
Within seconds another body fell out the door, and the struggle ceased. Kestrel arrived as the others hurriedly shoved three dead guards into the tower’sentry chamber. “You two stay out here and look like you’re on guard duty,” Philip told two of the escapees who already wore uniforms. “You two put on uniforms from these men,” he told the only two former prisoners who were not disguised. He then quickly looked at Kestrel, who knew what he was thinking, and nodded yes.
‘”Creata, stay here and get the uniforms off these other two guards, and bring them upstairs. Kestrel and I will be up looking for Margo and Picco,” he instructed, then began climbing the stairs with Kestrel at his heels. They found the rooms on the second floor empty, and the third floor doors were locked, as were the fourth floor doors, so they promptly went up to the single door on the fifth floor, the top of the tower.
Philip opened the door abruptly and pressed it wide open, looking within, as Margo and Picco rose with a start from their seats by a window and stared. “Philip!” Margo recognized her brother in spite of his hostile uniform, and the two rushed towards and hugged one another.
“Kestrel?” Picco asked, seeing his face over Philip’s shoulder, and she ran to him, then burst into tears as they wrapped their arms around one another.
“Don’t cry, little one,” he said comfortingly, alarmed by her sobs.
“I thought I’d never see you again, after what Creata told us,” she cried. “I’m sorry, I’m just so glad to see you alive.”
Margo too came over and joined the hug. “We’re so glad to see you,” she said gently, as she kissed his cheek.
Therewas the sound of feet on the staircase. “Where’s Creata? What’s happening?” Picco asked.
Kestrel broke away from the two girls and went to the closest window, where he found himself looking out over the palace buildings and grounds, then he circled halfway around the room to a window on the other side of the tower, and peered down at the south gate. He heard Creata come into the room, sparking another round of hugs and greetings.
“Ladies,” he said, turning to them, “put those uniforms on quickly. We’re going to try to get out of here as fast as we can.”
“What? Right now?” Picco asked.
“The sooner the better,” Creata replied, walking over to join Kestrel at the window, and observing the scene at their planned exit from the palace grounds.
“So there are six guards at the gate now?” Creata asked.
“Plus two in those trees across the lane on the outside,” Kestrel replied. “Plus probably more hidden somewhere nearby inside the wall.”
“Can we get out here, or do we need to go elsewhere?” Philip asked as he came over to join them.
“What are
the other possible gates we can use?” Kestrel asked, starting to turn back towards the other window, only to stop as he saw both girls in the room removing their dresses. “Turn around – no peeking!” Margo told him with a grin, and he immediately whirled around, his mind flashing back to his memories of the lush human contours of Merilla’s body.
“There’s the front gate, which we surely won’t try, and then there’s the gate at the stables,” Philip said.
“What’s it like?” Kestrel asked.
“It’s a wide gate, wide enough for horses five abreast to fit through easily, and it’s probably got four guards,” Philip answered. “That’s the normal number.”
“How far is it? How hard would it be to get there?” Kestrel thought it sounded promising.
“It’s on the other side of the grounds. We’d have to go all the way across,” Philip said.
“That’s no good,” Creata interjected. “They already know someone’s come into the palace,” he pointed below. “They’ll tighten security everywhere. And it won’t be long until they find out that prisoners have escaped. I say we go out this gate as fast as we can.”
“Alright,” Kestrel said. “I think you’re right; but let me stay up here at the window and shoot at the guards with arrows. That will clear the way for the rest of you to escape. Then I can sneak out tonight and meet you someplace safe.”
“We can’t leave you behind, after you’ve broken into the palace to set us free!” Picco said indignantly, coming up to join the conversation as she hitched her new uniform belt tight.
“I didn’t know anyone could make that uniform look so attractive,” Kestrel grinned at her.
“Oh, you are too smooth, mister savior of the day,” she smiled back at him roguishly.
“This is our best chance, and Creata’s right, we have to move fast. There’s a hidden room in the basement of your house, the maid told me,” Kestrel told Creata. “You four go there and wait for me. I’ll join you tonight. Then we can plan where to send you next.”
“There isn’t time to try anything else,” Philip agreed. “We need to do something quickly, and Kestrel’s gotten us this far, so we need to trust him and do it his way.” He reached out and impulsively hugged Kestrel. “We’ll see you in a few hours,” he said, then headed to the door.
Creata hugged him as well, then Margo came up and hugged him tightly. “You are an amazing wonder, Kestrel. Take care of yourself,” she urged, and left him to Picco, who hugged him as well, then kissed him soundly. “I want to see you again soon,” she scolded him, “so take care of yourself.”
He listened to them descending the stairs, then he quietly descended to the third floor, and broke into the door on the side of the tower facing the gate. He pushed furniture in the room in front of the door as a precaution. The window was still elevated enough for him to have a wide vision of the field, but low enough that he could hope to escape quickly once the others were on their way.
The guards at the gate were spread in a pattern that would allow him easy targeting of them all – there were none whose sightlines were obstructed. He waited a moment more until he felt sure his partners below were ready, then he began to fire arrows. The first arrow hit the guardsman on the far right, and the second hit the man on the left, while the third shaft struck on the right again. His fourth shot hit a guard on the right, but by that point the cries of panic were loud and the remaining two guards scrambled for cover, as the two men outside the gate sprang out of their hiding places and came running forward. Kestrel hit one of them before the other hid behind the trunk of a tree.
Kestrel notched an arrow to shoot, and waited to see where his next target would be. He heard the pounding of footsteps on the ground below, and saw his friends moving towards the gate in a pack, the girls in the center. As he carefully watched them, he saw an arrow fly at them from the left; Kestrel leaned far out of his window, facing towards the threat, and as a second arrow left a bushy screen he fired one of his arrows at the bush, pulled out another, and fired it as well, stilling the archer there. He looked at his fast-moving friends and saw that one of the escapees had been hit in the arm with an arrow but was still running towards freedom.
A guard at the gate pulled his sword loose as he rose from his hiding spot and stepped towards the runners, making himself visible as a target and allowing Kestrel to shoot an arrow at him. The guard still outside the gate was still almost completely hidden by a tree trunk, but Kestrel threw his knife at the man, then fired another arrow at the bushes where the arrows had flown from earlier.
There was a sound below him, within the tower, and he realized that his redoubt was under attack. His friends were at the gate and passing through to freedom, a sign that he no longer needed to remain at the window to protect them. “Lucretia, return!” he called, then swung his legs out the window, sat on the ledge until he caught the knife, and jumped to freedom as he heard footsteps on the third floor landing behind him. His elven affinity for trees, and leaping from them, allowed him to land safely in the greenery below, at the foot of the tower, and then he ran with all the elven speed he was capable of, placing his bow over his shoulder and preparing to use his staff in any conflict at the gate.
In the event, there turned out to be no conflict at the gate. He hurdled over the dead bodies scattered there, and ran past the one remaining guard who was still alive, cowering in a small spot of security. There were shouts from inside the palace walls, as the guards and defenders belatedly reacted to the attack at the gate, but outside the gate there was no sign of anyone else – his friends had gotten away.
Kestrel headed into a clump of trees, out of sight of the gate, then changed direction and headed into the urban density of the city, running through yards, crossing streets, mixing into the crowd at a busy market, until he was satisfied he was safe. He slowed to a walk, and worked his way around the city to the quiet streets where Creata’s home sat, as the sun began to set in the west. There were no evident guards outside the front of the house, but Kestrel took no chances and went around the block to the back, where he cautiously entered the kitchen without being seen by the staff, and he went downstairs.
Chapter 12– A Night at the Inn
Kestrel reached the bottom of the basement steps, without a light. His eyes gathered in the dim illumination that reflected down the stairwell behind him.
“Philip?” he called. “Picco? It’s me, Kestrel.” He had no idea where in the basement the hidden room was.
“Back here, Kestrel,” he heard a voice, and saw a slight glimmering behind a stack of dim crates. He stumbled on his way there, then found a door cracked open, and his four friends waiting inside with a single candle lit.
“You got here quickly,” Philip said, “not that any of us doubted your ability to rejoin us!”
Kestrel looked around at the faces of his friends, all of them still wearing the light blue-gray uniforms of the palace guard, as they all sat down on boxes and crates.
“I’m so glad you all are safe. How do you all feel?” he asked.
“We’re all in good shape,” Creata replied. “And miraculously, so are you. What have you done, Kestrel? Who are you and what do you plan to do?”
Kestrel took a deep sigh, and tilted his head as he looked down at his feet.
“I have many unusual friends, and these past two days, they have helped me survive. My friends the sprites are reluctant to be seen by us, but in friendship they carried me out of the prison and brought me to you to warn you to flee, and then they took me to the best doctor I know, an elven woman, and we used a miraculous spring of healing water to restore my body. Then the sprites brought me back here,” he succinctly explained.
“A goddess has assigned me a task I must carry out next; I’m going to have to leave you all very soon,” he told them, as they all stared at him raptly, “but my mind will not rest easy if I don’t make sure that you will escape from the city and seek safety immediately. Apparently I didn’t give you a frighteni
ng enough warning last time I told you to leave!” he smiled.
“We were preparing to leave!” Picco cried. “The boys wouldn’t even let us see you or tell us what happened to you, but their faces were white when they came out of your room. We all started packing, and even had our bags on our horses when the guards came and took us away.”
“Where are you going to go?” Philip asked. “Maybe we can help you.”
“I think you’ll be safer if you don’t know,” Kestrel said cagily, thinking about the torture he had endured, and what the others might reveal if caught. “Where are you going to go? I may be able to meet you somewhere,” he glanced for a moment at Margo, then shifted his gaze back to Philip.
“We talked about our plans on the way back here,” Philip said. “As soon as we were out the gate, the others went their own ways. They’ll spread the word that the palace is taking captives and torturing people, and all the leaders of the opposition will seek shelter.
“I need to stay here, in hiding, to help organize and lead the opponents to the prince, at least for a little while. Afterwards I can come up to the manor to meet you briefly, but then I’ll have to come back here.
“Creata is going to go south to his mother’s estate to spread the word down in that region. I’d like for the women to go up to our manor by the mountains to be safe up there, but we seem to have some disagreement about that,” he looked at his sister and Picco.
“I may need to go towards the manor once I leave this area,” Kestrel said, “and I think I’ll have a couple of guests. Your sisters and I could ride as traveling companions together.”
“Where are you going? Back to see the gnomes?” Picco asked.
“No, I’m going to Hydrotaz,” Kestrel answered.
“When are you leaving? Is there someplace the ladies will be safe until then?” Philip asked.
“If I escorted them to an inn in the countryside, would they be safe there, or at an estate outside the city, on the way to the manor?” Kestrel asked.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 02 - The Yellow Palace Page 19
