Benjamin climbed up the rock to get a view. The path rippled straight ahead but then turned sharply right and wrapped behind the rock he was standing on. He clambered over the towering rock, his exhaustion making his limbs heavy and slow. Benjamin pressed through a gap, scraping a button of his shirt off. He gasped, his head swimming, as he looked down. The path was farther down on this side and more of a wall than the other side had been. He allowed himself a drink of water, slung his waterskin on his back, and then half-slid, half-climbed down, shredding the heels of his hands as he tried to slow his fall. He added them to the growing list of injured parts he’d hopefully attend to later. Benjamin’s muscles burned with real heat as he worked his way down the wall. He tried to muffle his descent. Stealth was important.
He jumped down the last yard and landed shakily on his feet. He hoped that he’d still have enough energy to fight. He pressed himself into a depression in the wall and waited, panting. He soon heard footsteps on the path and held his breath, willing himself to be unseen.
Benjamin gripped his knife and readied himself to spring. He lunged too early. Baldo recoiled, screamed, and retreated. Benjamin dove, catching the boy by the legs. Baldo tripped, losing his grip on the chest. He rolled and kicked Benjamin in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs, allowing Baldo time to recover his precious strongbox. As soon as he had gotten two good breaths of air into him, he scrambled after the little scoundrel. Benjamin ran, clutching his stomach.
Baldo stumbled wildly ahead of him, while pain flared through Benjamin’s body. He pushed the pain down and limped after Denny’s precious baby brother. Benjamin rounded the turn cautiously but was surprised to come face to face with Denny.
“Where’s Baldo?” Denny scowled. Sweat poured down his flushed cheeks.
“What?” Cold dread filled Benjamin’s stomach. “He was—”
He pushed Denny against the wall to peer past him. There was a flash of light. Wetness coated the back of Benjamin’s shirt. He waited for the searing pain to hit, as a knife clattered against the rocks, but he only felt damp.
“Are you hit?” Denny rolled around him, pressing him against the wall and then screamed.
A small throwing knife stuck out of Denny’s shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on a spot down the path. “Baldo?” Denny uttered before his legs gave out, dragging Benjamin down with him.
Benjamin laid Denny on the ground. Baldo stood up, covered in dirt; a red gash ran across the sharp edge of his cheekbone. He turned and ran. Heat welled up under Benjamin’s fatigue. He yanked the knife out of Denny’s shoulder, but before he could shove Denny off him to follow, he grabbed Benjamin’s wrist.
“No!” Denny’s eyes were insistent.
But he almost killed you. Denny didn’t waver. Benjamin ground his teeth but dropped the knife. He sprinted after Baldo, his head pounding with every step. “Who cares if he kills me?” Benjamin raged. “I’m expendable.”
He slowed as he approached a small outcropping of rock just large enough to hide behind. Benjamin bent to scoop up a palm-sized rock as Baldo stepped out to throw another small knife. Benjamin dove forward and threw his rock, hitting Baldo’s knee.
A howl erupted, and the waif crumpled into a pile of dingy clothes. Benjamin picked up another round stone and ran toward the pile, hoping to pounce before Baldo had time to draw another knife. Baldo’s pale face flashed at him—and then he was gone. He rolled off the path and down the steep embankment. Benjamin peered down and watched Baldo’s thin frame bump and roll through loose gravel and large spikes of rock.
Benjamin let out a breath when the boy finally landed in a puddle on a flat rock. There was no way to reach Baldo now. But after that fall, the boy wouldn’t be in any shape to go anywhere on his own.
Denny tottered around the corner, gripping his shoulder to slow the bleeding. Benjamin reached for the waterskin on his back. It was slit and empty. He removed his scarf for a bandage for Denny’s shoulder.
“Where’s Baldo?”
“He’s still alive. He rolled over the edge.”
“What!”
Denny shoved Benjamin aside easily and dove to the edge, screaming Baldo’s name. He then paused, as something on the trail caught his eye. The chest that Baldo had carried through the whole chase lay open. Empty?
Benjamin peered over the edge. He could see Baldo moving and heard a faint moan. “Over here.”
Denny looked down ashen faced, allowing Benjamin to finally tie a bandage around his shoulder.
“Do you have a rope or something we could lower down there to bring him up?” Benjamin asked.
“Baldo!” Denny screamed.
A sick feeling rolled through Benjamin. “Odie?” he asked.
Denny reached out a hand and stopped him. “I left him with some soldiers. He was still in control.”
Benjamin slumped against the rocks behind them, exhausted.
“We’ll get your brother out, I promise. I just need to rest for a minute.”
“Strange; there was nothing in that chest.”
“Yes,” Benjamin said between breaths. He opened his eyes to an accusatory stare. “Well, I didn’t take it! I didn’t even see it until you did! I was a little too worried about knives flying at my head to go looking for treasure.” Hadn’t he proved himself? “He was able to move incredibly fast while carrying it. It could have been empty the whole time.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know! A decoy of some sort? Or just so we could have this conversation! I don’t know!”
“What?”
Benjamin froze and peered over the edge. Baldo was gone. A rope dangled from a rock.
“I know he’s your brother, and I’m not supposed to—” Benjamin’s voice was so cold, it startled him. “but I’m going to kill him.”
Denny shoved Benjamin back and watched his brother limp away. “Baldo!”
There was no way to even know if their path would join the path Baldo was now escaping on, but they jogged limply back down. Further below, they heard yelling. They picked up their pace until they saw men filing out of the exit, peering below.
“Odie can’t still be fighting, can he?” Benjamin turned to Denny, who was only able to shrug back before sliding down to join the men on the path below.
They found Odie resting against a wall, glistening with sweat. The Lieutenant stood in front of him with his sword drawn. Shreb stood on the edge of a steep drop-off, his small crossbow pointed at the Lieutenant’s heart.
Sweat trickled down the archvillain’s temples. His obsidian hair stuck to his face, and dark circles pooled under his eyes. His lips were purple; his fine clothing was slashed and bloodstained. He’d lasted a long time against Odie and the Lieutenant. A trembling hand fumbled with the ruined gold brocade.
“All these years, I dreamed of this moment, and I almost missed it,” Shreb said, panting. “Where is the Heart of Darkness? I want the ring my father gave you. It should be mine!” His eyes bulged as he clutched at the crossbow. “Where is it?”
“Is that what you want? I don’t have it.” The Lieutenant laughed, raising his sword an inch. “I gave it to my true lord and master, King Aldo.”
The Lieutenant dove before the words finished leaving his lips. Shreb’s bolt went wide, as the Lieutenant rolled toward the archvillain. Once his feet were under him again, he lunged, bringing his sword down on the crossbow, sending it over the edge. The Lieutenant stepped back, pointing his sword at one of Shreb’s jeweled buttons. The old spy straightened his eye patch as he watched Shreb step back and raise his hands in defeat.
Benjamin didn’t like the look of this. He wiggled through the knot of men to get closer to his father and Shreb, trying to think of all of Shreb’s possible avenues of escape. He had to see what lay below the drop-off. His hands ached as he drew his last knife from under his sleeve.
The Lieutenant glanced at him as he approached. “What?”
“I don’t know,” Benjamin said, as he staggered to
the edge to look over. “Baldo’s still—” He screamed.
Baldo was propped on a thin outcropping just below the edge. He held Shreb’s fallen crossbow, a bolt notched tightly into its bowstring. He swung a long knife up, digging it into the ground in between Benjamin’s feet. He jumped out of the way, screeching and stumbling into the Lieutenant and knocking him off balance.
Shreb jumped off the ledge and slid to the ledge below. Baldo peered up at Benjamin, aiming his single bolt at his heart. Benjamin swallowed and focused on Baldo’s twiglike finger that rested on the trigger. Finally he winked and slid out of sight. Only the buried hilt of a knife into the cliff’s edge marked the villain’s escape route. Everyone stood stunned for a moment before soldiers erupted into yells and scampered after them. A few tried to follow them on the narrow path; but most ran down various downward paths, hoping to catch them further below, but the two were never found. Not a sign.
Benjamin suspected there were other hidden passages in the ravine. He combed over the path more closely than anyone.
Odie quietly attended to the dazed Denny, who waited for news of his little brother, not completely giving up hope of reclaiming his brother. Besides the wound on his shoulder and his aching heart, there wasn’t much wrong with him, and soon Odie nudged Denny toward the fortress. They ascended the stairs behind the Lieutenant and Benjamin as they silently went to face Mouthrot. Benjamin glanced back to see tears streaking down Denny’s face unchecked.
FIFTY TWO
Keston and Pete stood in front of Mouthrot, scowling at one another. Two guards stood on either side of Pete, whose filthy hat was crumpled more than usual. Two more guards flanked Mouthrot. He had a fresh gag in his mouth and more rope around his wrists, legs, waist, and neck.
The Lieutenant heaved a sigh as he examined the old spy’s black eye.
“He started it,” Pete said with little conviction as he squirmed under the Lieutenant’s gaze.
“Yes, the man who had been drugged and tied up to a chair started it. Of course.”
The Lieutenant signaled the guards to remove Pete from the room. He shrugged and followed his guards.
“Sir.” Keston saluted the Lieutenant.
He returned the gesture stiffly and then removed Mouthrot’s gag.
Mouthrot flashed a wicked smile of gold. “I see time has not been kind to you.”
“And too kind to you.” The Lieutenant squeezed the hilt of his sword. “Mouthrot, in the name of King Aldo of Lam, I’m arresting you for treason against the kingdom of Lam, the entire royal family, and the crown. You will be tried and, if found guilty, will be executed however your king and lord sees fit.”
Mouthrot barked maliciously, “He is not my king! I am of the Thieves’ Plain. Neither King Aldo nor his father, King Zavier, has ever claimed authority here.”
“Guards, take the prisoner outside. We will transport him immediately.” The Lieutenant lifted his eye patch and stared deeply into Mouthrot’s eyes.
Keston and his men saluted. Shackles were brought in, and the prisoner shuffled his way through the fortress. Twenty men escorted him, with an innumerable amount of men lining the corridors and stairs. A large platoon of soldiers stood waiting with the prison cart in the main courtyard. A refined nobleman wearing Aldo’s colors sat astride a horse. He saluted the Lieutenant.
Mouthrot glared at the official crest of the king on the cart. “The people of the Thieves’ Plain will not stand for this! We will rise up and steal the crown for ourselves!”
Mouthrot continued to swear oaths against the king as they locked the doors behind him. The gates opened, which revealed a large group of peasants lining both sides of the road. They waved shovels, cudgels, hammers, and pitchforks angrily. The king’s soldiers eyed the crowd suspiciously, preparing to push through, but the crowd cheered as they watched Mouthrot pass. Then Mouthrot’s curses turned against the people he had sworn would avenge him.
No one seemed angry with the king’s men for snatching Mouthrot out of the heart of the Thieves’ Plain. The depressed farmer from the Gray Gander shook his fist at the cart as it drove by, grumbling curses against him and all his kin, both living and dead. If there was anger, it was directed toward the villain in the cart. The group seemed grateful to have one less villain on the plain. When the cart and its escort were no longer visible, the people staggered away in small groups. They mumbled enthusiastically and shook their heads, bewildered.
Benjamin thought for a moment about mingling with the crowd to get a sense of the people’s mood about the king’s involvement, but he saw Pete and several other spies already starting up conversations with them. Benjamin’s fatigue hit him again. He would just ask Branwen later.
Benjamin needed to get to the castle. He felt anxious about Rebecca; he’d left her too long. There was no telling what this Lady Jalene was planning to do to the young princess. He looked up at the fortress for a moment. His knee throbbed, and the other layers of pains and aches awoke to torment him. He pulled off his wet pack, dumping his torn and empty waterskin on the ground, and dug out a meager apple. It was nowhere near enough to fill his empty stomach. Neither Denny nor Odie was anywhere to be seen.
The brothers were probably inside licking their wounds still. Benjamin closed his eyes and pressed a fist into his chest and swallowed. Denny wasn’t taking things well, and Benjamin didn’t have a pep talk in him. Was there really anything to say? Maybe sympathetic silence was best.
Benjamin bit into an apple and trudged through the laundry area again to avoid the crowds by the main doors. Guards were interviewing Shreb’s men inside. Some were being detained, but most were stripped of their weapons and let go.
In the middle of a row of drying sheets, he found the Lieutenant sitting next to Helda, sharing a drink. She picked up a familiar-looking jug and handed it to the old man.
The Lieutenant took a swig, forcing it down, and then handed it to Benjamin. “You look like you could use this.”
Benjamin grimaced but took it.
Helda nodded encouragingly. “It tastes awful, but it won’t kill ya. It will help you heal faster. I swear by it, and so does your Lieutenant here.”
The Lieutenant looked at his empty hands and nodded.
Benjamin closed his eyes and took a swig. He could honestly say that he’d never tasted anything like it and hoped he never would again. It looked like mud and tasted worse. Overtones of rot trickled up as an aftertaste. He gasped and then gagged a little. “Any water or cider to wash this down?” he asked.
They both laughed while Benjamin focused on his breathing and keeping the contents in his stomach. Helda handed him a mug of cider. When mixed with the aftertaste of the medicine, he decided, tasted like rotten apples.
The Lieutenant patted him on the shoulder but then pulled him gently closer. “We’ve lost Baldo, then?”
Benjamin nodded.
“There’s no chance—”
“He nearly killed me and Denny.”
The Lieutenant nodded, pressing his lips together and peered up toward where the brothers probably were.
Benjamin wandered toward the main hall and took another bite of his apple and nearly chucked it. With the aftertaste, the apple now tasted bad as well. His wobbly legs insisted that he take a few more bites, so he decided that the apple was helping. Someone handed him a mug of cider, and he gingerly sipped it before pouring it down his gullet. The aftertaste was much less noticeable. He limped up the stairs. Battle was for stronger men than he.
He paused by the room with the trap door. Men climbed in and out of the hole in the floor. Baldo was brilliant after all. He easily had twice as much ambition as Denny and less than half the conscience. That was supposed to be Benjamin.
Would he have been tied up and delivered to the king like Mouthrot if things had been different? Benjamin should be the villain; Baldo should be working for the king. The Lieutenant had been more of a father to Baldo than to Benjamin. Was it just chance? Or had each boy been given a chance
to choose something different than what life had given them?
Benjamin’s chest tightened. Baldo had given up so much. He walked away from his family. He broke Denny’s heart. Benjamin’s own ties with the brothers, the Lieutenant, and Rebecca were tenuous at best. So many complications. Even now, he felt compelled to see Denny and Odie’s pain, as if that would help. He felt a tug toward the castle, where Rebecca paced a hole in the carpets. Benjamin leaned against the doorway and closed his eyes. Why would he want this? These ties bound him to pain. The job was finished, wasn’t it? And yet he wanted to stay. He wanted to see his friends right. He just wasn’t sure if he knew how to do that, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
He straightened up and lurched down the hallway. The brothers sat on top of the table where Shreb must have eaten his meals. Odie and Denny leaned into each other. Rina, the goat, butted Odie’s foot. Benjamin felt awkward, watching the brothers. The moment felt too intimate. He turned around and ran into Keston.
“We found something upstairs,” Keston said in a low voice, casting a sidelong glance toward the brothers. “I think you might want to see it.”
“Is this about Baldo?” Denny asked, his hair dangling over his red eyes.
Keston straightened into an official stance but staggered with his answer. “We don’t know…for sure.” He glanced at Benjamin for help.
Benjamin shrugged. If Keston didn’t want the brothers to know, he should have been more discreet.
The brothers slid off the table and followed them up another flight of stairs to a room directly above Shreb’s. The entrance was crammed full of old, dusty gear and furniture, but as they pushed further back into the room, it was spotless. Furniture was arranged into a court of sorts. Chairs sat around the room facing an opulent chair that could only have belonged to Shreb Senior. There was a wardrobe pulled open. The inside was covered with maps, notes, and lists of all kinds. Benjamin rubbed his small notebook in his pocket.
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