“I’m going to stay right here,” I said, subduing my own unease. “Just keep looking at me, and you will be beside me in a moment.”
She at last consented, and London dropped her to the ground. I hugged her, then Davan called, urging us to follow him, and I led Miranna forward, listening to the thuds as the rest of the men dropped down behind us.
The tunnel did widen after a bit, so we could walk in pairs, and the ceilings were high enough to allow even Cannan, the tallest of the men, to stand without crouching. London had joined Davan to lead the way, and I was directly behind them with Miranna, whose head was buried in my shoulder. Then came Steldor and Galen, with the captain bringing up the rear.
It remained difficult to breathe as we took step after step, and though Davan carried a torch before us and Cannan one behind, the way was shadowy and dank, and seemingly never-ending. My anxiety was growing, along with my need for fresh air and for the knowledge that the world above us still existed. Though my mind told me I could not stand another taste of the murkiness of the tunnel, I gulped the air more quickly with every passing moment.
“London, when will we—” I started, but he shushed me, pointing to the ceiling.
“They’re above us,” he whispered. “We’re almost to the end.”
I listened closely and could indeed hear the distant, muffled pounding of what were probably hoofbeats over our heads.
At last, the light from London’s torch fell upon an earthen wall, and I knew it was time to ascend, potentially to our deaths. I took a look around at the men with whom I traveled, realizing that every one of them would be willing to sacrifice himself to protect Miranna and me. If this were to be our demise, I would be dying among Hytanica’s best and bravest, a thought that lifted my spirits and fueled my determination.
CHAPTER 21
CAPABLE MEN
WHEN THE TUNNEL HAD ORIGINALLY BEEN constructed, a wooden ladder had been left to aid escape. Through the years, the rungs had decayed, and they currently looked none too sturdy. London adjusted the angle of the ladder, then tested the first rung, which gave way before he had even put his full weight upon it.
“This will be interesting,” he murmured, turning back to us with a wry smile. “Someone steady it.”
Davan stepped forward and did as London asked, while the nimble former scout climbed upward, putting as little weight on each of the rungs as possible by moving quickly and keeping his feet on the outer edges. Fortunately, the rung on which he eventually had to balance to press upon the wooden escape hatch was sturdier than the first had been. Unfortunately, the hatch would not budge. No matter where London shoved, there was no give.
“Earth, grass, perhaps even roots must be interfering,” London muttered as he jumped to the floor. He spoke briefly to the captain, then once more scaled the ladder. Davan and Steldor hoisted Galen up so that both he and London could apply pressure to the wood, but still it would not yield.
“We’re going to have to blow it,” London said, voice low. “There’s no turning back now.”
“Even if Narian has pulled his troops, the noise will lure the enemy, so we had best move quickly,” Cannan agreed. He then addressed Miranna and me. “Move back into the tunnel until we have it open. But stay in front of the others so we can quickly lift you up and out.”
As Steldor, Galen and Davan moved into the tunnel to stand behind us, London removed a pouch from his pack, climbing yet again. Using two fingers, he removed some explosive powder and packed it carefully around the edges of the wood. He again jumped to the ground, then ducked down low, touching the torch to the ceiling. I covered my ears, but still the sound was deafening in the narrow tunnel. Wood and earth rained down on top of the deputy captain, extinguishing his torch and almost burying him in rubble. When the dust had settled, he straightened, staring at the haze until moonlight filtered through. He glanced at Cannan, who smothered our other torch, then London scrambled up the ladder to hoist himself out the opening.
“Hurry,” he said urgently, peering down at us. “Lift Miranna.”
Cannan put his hands on my sister’s waist and boosted her as easily as if she were a doll. London grasped her arms and pulled her above ground.
“Now Alera,” my former bodyguard prompted.
Steldor took my hand and stepped forward, but when he gripped my waist and lifted me high enough for London to reach me, he seemed reluctant to let go.
“I’ll see you soon,” I felt the need to say before London hauled me out.
Davan climbed out next, and London spoke one last time to Cannan.
“I hear riders. I suggest you move now.”
He and Davan herded us into the cover of the forest, and we began our dangerous trek to safety.
Two hours later, I was exhausted, but we pressed on, through the thick trees and the undergrowth that continually caused me to stumble, going always uphill. At times it was so dark I could hardly see my companions; at other times, the moonlight filtering through the skeletal trees reflected off patches of snow to cast an eerie glow. My cloak was thick, but not thick enough to keep the frigid winter air from numbing my fingers and toes, and my very bones seemed to throb. Miranna was not faring any better than I.
I didn’t have any idea where we were going, but London seemed sure of himself, while Davan brought up the rear. We traveled slowly out of necessity, and London left us more than once in the oppressive and terrifying shadow-land to scout out the area ahead.
Several times, our guards tugged us to the forest floor when voices, Cokyrian accents distinct, reached our ears, often accompanied by the tramping of horses’ hooves. Every time, my fear was indescribable, and I pictured sharp swords coming down on us, unable to imagine what it must feel like to be run through with a blade—if it would be quick, if I would be aware when the weapon was withdrawn from my flesh. The prospect of a bloody death, which had been almost inconceivable, was now so very real.
When the enemy had passed us by, the Elite Guards would pull Miranna and me to our feet, but I would glance behind us and wonder if the same Cokyrians would pass the King and if our second party would be as lucky. From London’s parting words to Cannan, it seemed they would likely face even greater danger.
When the first rays of the sun glowed on the horizon and dull gray light appeared between the branches of the barren trees, London at last told us to rest. Miranna and I collapsed to the cold ground in the small clearing in which we stood, and he tossed us a pack containing bread and jerky, along with a water flask so we might quench our thirst.
“Eat and sleep while you can,” he said, still standing, scanning our surroundings. “We won’t stop for more than an hour. I don’t like moving during the day, but in this case, the farther west we travel, the farther we are from harm.”
Davan, whom I was rapidly learning preferred listening to talking, did not comment, but took up position at the edge of our makeshift camp to stand watch.
“Won’t the others catch us?” I asked, stuffing food into my mouth and drinking readily. Miranna was eating very little, a fact that troubled me, for I did not think her stamina could last much longer. Still, she drank as thirstily as did I.
“No,” London replied, not giving me his full attention even though Davan was on guard. “They are taking a different route. We won’t see them until we reach our destination.”
“What exactly is the safe—”
“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, cutting me off, not out of annoyance, but likely because his instincts as a soldier told him to keep us quiet. “We’ll be far from any lands the Cokyrians might search. Take the time you have to sleep.”
I nodded, then ripped off one more chunk of the bread before returning the loaf to the pack. Hoping to stop my sister’s quivering by sharing my body heat, I curled up close to her and began to doze.
“Alera, wake up.”
London’s voice was hushed and urgent, and he clamped a hand over my mouth as I forced my eyelids apart. Miranna beside
me sat up in confused alarm, only to be likewise dealt with by Davan. He hoisted her to her feet, pulling her into the undergrowth and out of the clearing.
“Go with them,” London ordered. “Now. We have company.”
I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding, as boisterous voices reached me from farther up the forested hill. As they neared, I could hear the sound of horses’ hooves rustling through dried leaves. The riders were Cokyrian, but judging from the volume of their voices, they had spent a good part of the night reveling in their victory. I hurried into the trees after my sister, unable to see where Davan had taken her, and was abruptly tugged to the ground by his hand about my ankle. My fall would probably have gone unnoticed by the enemy, but my small cry of surprise caught their attention.
“Silence,” a woman ordered. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” A few chuckles from her male companions drifted down to us. “I think you had too much ale.”
“Hush, you mooncalf, there’s someone here,” the woman insisted, but the man who had spoken remained unperturbed.
“So we aren’t the only ones who stayed behind to celebrate,” he said dismissively. “Are you surprised? The kid just doesn’t recognize that this war is finished. He’s got no business trying to give us a different assignment when we’ve already won. The only thing that might be left is to kill a few Hytanican stragglers as they try to run away.”
“Exactly.”
The point having penetrated their brains, the men grew serious to the best of their abilities in their semi-inebriated states. They dismounted to creep erratically down the hill on foot, and the moment they came into view, I heard Davan slide his long knives from their sheaths.
But where was London? I couldn’t see him from where I was hiding and had not noted where he’d gone when I’d fled the clearing. The Cokyrians were close now, too close. One, a large, burly man, was leaning over the place Miranna and I had slept, examining the imprints our bodies had made. The second, slightly smaller than the first, lumbered over as well, his eyes following the tracks I had left.
“Looking for me?”
London had snuck partway up the hill and now stepped out from behind a tree, gripping the Cokyrian woman by her hair, a dagger pressed against her throat. The men turned away from us, fists clenched at their sides, disgruntled with their compromised position.
“Keep your heads down,” Davan muttered to Miranna and me as he carefully stood, and we promptly buried our faces in our arms.
Davan moved away, and I cautiously lifted my head, my good sense defeated by my desire to know what was happening. As the Elite Guard approached the two men from behind, I realized that the Cokyrian woman could not see her comrades due to the slope of the land and the angle at which London held her head.
“Let her go,” one of the enemy soldiers growled, but it was the last sentence he would utter. Davan plunged one of his long knives into each man’s neck, jerking both blades outward. Their backs were to me, but blood showered the ground in front of them, a spray of thick, dark red. The men coughed and choked, and sank to the earth just before I heard the nauseating snap that could only have been London breaking the woman’s neck, granting her a much cleaner death.
My former bodyguard thrust the Cokyrian’s body to the side, where it fell among the trees, and he swiftly descended the slope to the clearing. I scrambled to my feet, fighting the urge to retch, as Davan wiped his blades upon the ground and proceeded, with London’s assistance, to heave the bodies of the men out of sight. Miranna still hugged the ground, which meant she had seen nothing, but she was trembling, not totally oblivious to the actions of our guards. London gently coaxed her to her feet, then his manner stiffened.
“We need to leave here, now,” he said.
Davan motioned for us to follow, and I walked after him, arm around Miranna, ignoring my fatigue. London had once more disappeared, only to come into view after a few minutes, leading the mounts of the felled Cokyrians, and I felt extremely fortunate to be in his capable hands.
Davan lifted Miranna into the saddle of the horse he would ride, while London permitted me to take my own. I had never ridden through such rocky terrain, but I said nothing, content to be viewed as competent.
London had been right in his prediction that the farther we went, the fewer Cokyrians we would encounter. When we came into the foothills to the northwest, our going became rougher but less eventful. The Cokyrians had no need to be this far from our kingdom or their own empire.
We were leaving behind the trees that had dropped their leaves, instead coming into pines, and the heretofore rocky ground was now strewn with boulders and patchy with snow. I was grateful the bulky nature of the evergreens was sufficient to block much of the wind that had been picking up during our continual climb.
The land was so steep now that we wound our way back and forth, traveling many miles to gain a few hundred feet in height. It was late afternoon when we breached the top of a steep incline that had been hard even on the horses, only to find ourselves on a narrow ledge before a red-streaked rock face so immense it cast a shadow over much of the land below. London dismounted, and I felt certain we had lost our direction somewhere along the way. When Davan likewise dismounted, lifting Miranna to the ground, I dubiously did the same.
Massive pine trees, like giant sentinels, guarded the sheer rock in several places, their branches overgrown and sweeping. London passed between two of them, reemerging a few minutes later.
“It’s safe to enter,” he said.
He and Davan pulled aside the trees’ laden arms to reveal a large vertical fissure in the rock face. It began halfway up the mountainous wall, then ran toward the ground, ever widening in its descent.
Without a word, the two men waved us forward, and I ducked through the trees, Miranna’s hand clasped in mine. Brushing against the rough rock, I slipped through the crevice, pulling my sister along behind me. I stopped, waiting for my eyes to adjust, for the only illumination was provided by slim shafts of fading daylight at the far end. My sluggish brain also detected a trickling sound that could be made only by water.
I was jostled by London as he came in behind us, but I dared not move forward until he brought a torch to life with his flint and steel. He walked around, shining the light against the rock walls of a cave, easily thirty feet in depth and twenty feet in width, with a ceiling rising to three times my height. It was considerably warmer in the cavern than it was outside, due to both the lack of wind and the insulating quality of the earth. Surprisingly, the air was not as dank as had been the air in the tunnel, and I could feel a slight draft flowing through the interior. When Davan joined us, having hidden the horses, London touched the head of another torch to the burning one he held, then passed it to Davan. With a flick of the wrist to indicate we should follow, my former bodyguard led us to the back end of what would be our hiding place, and the flame caught a small cascade of water that tumbled down the right-side wall to form a pool.
“Welcome to your new home,” London said sardonically. Once more he shone his torch around the area, and my eyes took in barrels of grain and alcohol, bundles of dried herbs and fruits, stacks of animal skins and furs, a variety of quilts and various other foodstuffs and supplies along the right side. In a hollow to the left, there were stores of weapons, and a little farther away, a virtual wall of firewood. It was obvious this shelter had been stocked for us, probably gradually over the past six months.
“I won’t make a fire tonight,” London said in an unassailable tone, “so you should grab several hides and some quilts to make yourselves a place to lie down. We’ll eat the bread and some of the jerky. As you can see, we have plenty of fresh water. Other than that, I suggest sleep. There will be much to do in the morning.”
He stuck his torch into a bracket on the wall and opened his pack, tossing the items he had mentioned to me. I grabbed an armful of furs, spreading a few on the ground along the right side of the cave for warmth and cushioning. I return
ed for quilts to drape around my sister and me, then tugged her down beside me on the makeshift beds, offering her some of the food. London moved to speak to Davan.
“I’ll take the first turn on guard,” he offered. “You should eat and sleep, as well.”
Passing me, London grabbed a handful of jerky and disappeared through the sheltered cave opening. Davan stopped to offer us some water, then prepared a bed for himself on the other side of the cave near the stacked firewood, granting us some semblance of privacy. I lay down next to my sister to fall into an exhausted slumber.
I awoke to the sound of voices and sat up, hoping that Steldor and Galen had arrived. Cannan would be on his way back to Hytanica by now—he could even be there already. My stomach tightened as I recalled what the captain had said to his son about his own probable death and an example being made of my parents. My father and I had never fully repaired our relationship, and neither of my parents had been told that Miranna was alive. Maybe it was too late now for either of those things to happen.
I looked around in the dim torchlight through still-tired eyes to see it was only London, who had come to switch watch with Davan. As he made a bed for himself toward the cave opening, I forced myself to think rationally. We had left ahead of the others, after all; their different route might take them longer; and we had ridden horses a good part of the way. I suppressed my pessimistic thoughts and lay down again, for London was already dozing peacefully, a sure sign that there was nothing about which to worry. It did not take long for sleep to again seduce me.