The King, page 6
part #4 of The Jester King Series
Hugh took the locket and tried it. “It’s hard to line up.”
“You gotta use just one eye.”
Hugh closed one eye and looked again. “I’ll be …” He then handed the locket to the others and allowed them to see the tiny miracle it held.
Camion took a last squinty look, then handed it back to Aeth. “Here. Your one eye sees more than our six.”
Aeth smiled, then Malcolm and Camion patted him on the shoulder and back. Hugh came beside him, put his arm around the boy’s shoulders, and waited for him to make eye contact.
“I told you. You are my guide.”
The two men from the hole in the wall smiled at each other and started up the tunnel in front of them.
“So, which way from here?”
“This way.” Aeth pointed to the tunnel on his right.
Malcolm and Camion fell in behind Aeth and Hugh as they turned the corner. The four disappeared into the blackness of the catacombs with torches and spirits held high.
***
“I need to rest.” Aeth hobbled over to the side of the square chamber they had just entered. “We’re halfway there. I just need to rest for a minute.”
The fatigue in the boy’s limbs was obvious to all. They had been pushing to get across the catacombs and the pace was hard for Aeth with his broken body. Even Hugh’s abdomen was yowling from the exertion.
“Aye. We’ve made good time. Just tell me which way we’re going from here before you sit down.”
“That one.” Aeth pointed to the doorway across the room. “We’re in the middle of the maze. This room is the center.”
Hugh walked to the doorway, picked up a piece of chalky rubble, and scratched an “X” on the arch. “There. Don’t want to get lost at this point.”
As he reached up to strengthen the mark, his wound snarled, and he yanked his hand down. With one hand on his stomach and one on the arch, he took a deep breath and let it out.
“You up to this?” Malcolm asked.
Hugh straightened and looked down at the bloodied bandages around his belly. “I’ll be fine. This is old.”
Malcolm and the giant exchanged glances, then split up and sat on opposite sides of the doorway they had entered. Hugh and Aeth took up positions opposite them. In these dismal surroundings, no one had the heart to talk. The heightened spirits they had felt upon commencing their trek across the ancient tomb had fled from them; bled away by the never-ending darkness held ephemerally at bay by their torchlight.
For this reason and many others, Hugh remained silent. His mind churned with doubts about the coming rescue attempt. He couldn’t fool himself into thinking it was anything more than a desperate half-baked attempt. How would he find Myrredith? How many guards would they run into? Would they have to do battle? If they did, how would he fare? Would Myrredith be happy to see him, or would she cast him off at the first opportunity? Could they get her out of Cyndyn Hall without raising the alarm? Where would the prince be during all this?
Hugh had started with a simple plan: enter Cyndyn Hall by way of the catacombs, free Myrredith, and escape back through the catacombs. Maybe it was too simple. Most of his life, he had kept his plans simple, and that had served him well. He had chosen the path straight ahead, the path of the arrow. The closer he examined his current plan, the less it looked like an arrow and the more it looked like an angry viper.
A faint sound interrupted Hugh’s thoughts. He sat up and turned his head, attempting to find the sound again.
“What?” Camion asked.
“Shhh. I think someone’s coming.”
The four companions listened to see if they could detect which of the four doorways the sound had come from. A moment later, Malcolm motioned to the others that the sound came from behind him, from the way that they had come.
They hid in the side tunnels and doused their torches. Like heavy velvet, the ancient darkness wrapped itself around them. Sweat rolled a cold finger down Hugh’s back. He clenched his fists to crush a tremor. The oppressive dark took on substance, mingling with the cold, musty air, and raking his senses on edge. Something stirred behind him—shambling steps, the whisper of Latin not spoken in four hundred years …
At that moment, Hugh felt a hand on his arm and he flinched before Aeth could whisper, “It’s just me.”
Though he could see nothing, Hugh frowned at the little thief. “I told you to stop doing that. Wish I had a blade.”
“Where’s your knife?”
“Lost on the corpse wagon.”
Without another word, Aeth took Hugh’s hand and placed something in it. He felt the item with his fingers and found the sharp end of a blade. Then he turned back to face the square chamber, the weapon poised in his fist.
The moments passed slowly, and then pale amber light peeked around a distant corner of the passage they had come from. With cautious advance, the light grew brighter, expanding and encroaching further into the central chamber.
Hugh strained to hear what he could of the men following them. They did not tromp around in noisy war-sandals or boots the way Gwythie soldiers did. In fact, they made no noise with their feet at all. Instead, what Hugh heard was the same sound that had first alerted him—the sound of someone adjusting a heavy load on his back. Within moments, they were at the doorway to the central chamber. The amber light filled the archway, spilling light into the side passages. Hugh leaned back into the shadows to avoid detection.
Without warning, the newcomers stopped their advance. Hugh held his breath and tightened his grip on the crude knife.
A soft whisper split the silence, “Wait, Your Highness. I sense a trap.”
Your Highness? Prince Hereweald? Down here? This could be our chance to turn things to our favor.
He risked a peek around the corner and saw a short, slight man wearing a cloak, his face hidden in the shadows of its hood. A small orb of light, with the color and intensity of a torch, floated in the air near him. The little man slipped his sword from its sheath, and the orb moved away to circle the room.
Hugh inhaled and readied himself to attack.
Just then, another cloaked man stepped out of the shadow beyond the archway. Like the first man, he was short and kept his face hidden within the recesses of his hood. He had a long cloth-covered package strapped over one shoulder, and in one hand he wielded a short curved sword of a design Hugh had never seen before. He extended his other hand, and a bluish orb of light appeared, floating above his palm. It shot to the arched ceiling of the chamber, where it intensified.
I have to act while I’ve still got surprise on my side. And quick as a bolt before they can cast a spell on me. His muscles tightened to spring.
“Sir Hugh?” the second man said.
Hugh froze.
The little man raised his hand, and the bluish orb became as bright as daylight, causing Hugh to squint. The second man then opened his sword-hand, and his weapon disappeared.
“Sir Hugh?” The second man probed the darkness beyond with his voice. “Is that you?”
The voice was so familiar to Hugh, and yet he could not place it. It seemed like a voice that crossed oceans of time to reach his ear.
Is this some trick of magic? A demon’s spell to catch me off guard?
At that moment, the second man pushed back his hood and revealed his face.
Billy! It cannot be!
Malcolm stepped into the room from the opposite archway. “Billy!” He showed his empty hands to the first little man and advanced.
The man stepped in front of Malcolm, barring his way.
“It’s all right, Shaldra. He’s a friend.”
Shaldra pushed back his hood, lowered his sword, and stepped aside. For a moment, his pointed ears and almond shaped eyes struck Malcolm dumb, but then he remembered Billy.
“Billy!” The highlander threw his arms open.
Billy rushed forward into his embrace.
“I thought I’d never see you again, my boy.”
“And I, you!”
At this, Camion ambled out of the dark. His size caught Shaldra and Billy off guard. Shaldra raised his sword, and Lura Zahn appeared in Billy’s fist.
Malcolm, still holding onto Billy, put his hand on his arm. “He’s no trouble. He’s with me.”
“I remember you,” Billy said to the giant. “You were on the Gyldan Mene.”
Camion nodded. “Glad to see little people still alive.” He eyed Shaldra and the point of his sword. “All little people.”
Shaldra smiled and lowered his weapon.
“‘Member me, Billy?”
Aeth leaned against the archway. Billy stared at his crooked, bandaged body and frowned. Finally, he made his way up to the boy’s face and his one eye. “Stitch?”
“Aye.”
“What happened to you?”
“‘Tis a long story. Maybe I’ll tell ya sometime, but now we need to be rescuin’ Lady Cyndyn.”
“Right.” Billy walked to Aeth and put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
Hugh remained slumped half in the shadows, on the floor behind the doorway. He was staring at Billy with tears rolling down his cheeks. He still held Aeth’s crude knife in his hand.
Billy stepped to Hugh and removed the long package slung over his back. The blue orb of light dimmed and moved to the archway. Billy sat cross-legged in the pool of light, in front of Hugh, with the package across his lap.
“Yeah, … it’s good to see you too.”
Hugh remained mute.
Billy opened his shirt and showed Hugh the scars the dragon had left across his chest. “We meet again, old friend.”
The crude blade in Hugh’s hand fell to the stone floor with a tink, and he rolled to his knees. He grabbed Billy and plucked him off the floor, wrapping his arms around him, like a man drowning in a river grabs hold of a fallen tree.
“Hugh,” Billy gasped. “You’re crushing me.”
Hugh loosened his grip but kept hold of him. He closed his eyes, but the tears continued to roll down his cheeks and catch on his smiling lips. His breath drew in slowly but escaped in bursts as if his lungs could not hold it.
“I saw you die.”
“I know. I know. But, in fact, it was you that saved me.”
“What?”
“That little coffin you brought aboard the Gyldan Mene saved my life.”
Hugh relaxed his embrace of Billy and sat back onto his haunches to examine him. Unable to let go completely, Hugh held onto his newly restored friend at arm’s length.
“The coffin?”
“Aye.” Billy picked up the long package that lay on the floor between them and held it out to Hugh. “This belongs to you.”
Hugh released Billy and put his hands around the long cloth-wrapped package. When Billy let go, its well-balanced weight fell into his hands and told him exactly what it was.
“Is this a dream?”
Billy smiled. “Shall I pinch ya to make sure?”
Hugh stared at him and the item resting in his hands.
“Go ahead. I kep’ it oiled for you, just like you taught me.”
Hugh loosed the tie strings and flipped back the open top of the sack. The bluish light sparkled off tiny silver leaves and bone as the silky cloth spilled away from Hugh’s ancestral sword. The blue gemstone in the pommel winked at him in greeting.
“I never dared to dream. I am forever in your debt.”
“No. True friends have no debts between them, only gestures of kindness.”
Hugh put his hand behind Billy’s neck and leaned in until they were touching foreheads. “Right. Right.”
As they drew apart, Hugh said, “Say, how did you know it was me?”
“When?”
“Just now. Before we came out of hiding, you called my name like you knew it was me.”
“Well, who else would be down here with four men preparing to storm a fortress guarded by a legion of well-trained elite forces in order to rescue one lady from under the nose of her war-seasoned royal captor?”
Hugh laughed, and Billy joined him. Their infectious laughter spread to the others, but it didn’t last long. There was still sober work to be done.
Billy and Hugh stood up, and Hugh strapped on his sword.
“I suppose that’s a long story too.” Billy pointed at Hugh’s wound.
“Not really. I got drunk, insulted some very patriotic Gwythies, and when they grew bored of beating me, their sergeant used me for sword practice.”
Billy reached out and touched the site of Hugh’s wound. He closed his eyes and concentrated. After a moment, he straightened. “Shaldra, bring me Elzgig’s balm.”
Shaldra slipped off his backpack and brought it to Billy. He then opened it and handed over a small clay jar.
Billy nodded at the backpack. “Might as well give him those.”
Shaldra reached into the pack and pulled out a helmet and a pair of gauntlets. He handed them to Hugh while Billy doctored his wound.
Hugh and Shaldra just stood and stared at one another.
“Oh, pardon me,” Billy said. “Shaldra, this is Sir Hugh, the King’s Champion. Sir Hugh, this is Shaldra, my friend.”
Shaldra straightened with pride.
“I’m not the King’s Champion anymore. I’m not even a sir any longer.”
Billy looked up from his bandaging.
Hugh caught his eye. “Ergyfel.”
Billy nodded. “And that fine fellow behind me is Stitch.”
“Not Stitch anymore. Name’s Aeth.”
Billy looked over his shoulder to the giant. “I never learned your name, but perhaps that’s to my advantage. No doubt, it too has changed recently. Whatever it is, I owe you my thanks for the Gyldan Mene.”
Camion grinned and bowed at the waist.
“And you, Malcolm, what do they call you now? Are you still the famous Malcolm the Magnificent?”
“Aye.” The master juggler smiled. “Though I’ve not felt very famous or magnificent lately. My friend’s name is Camion.”
Hugh blurted out at Shaldra, “You’re a faerie, aren’t you?”
“I am of the Faerie Court, though of all the names men call us, I think I prefer ‘elf.’”
“The Faerie Court?”
“Aye. The court of my prince.”
“That’s enough.” Billy stood up and handed Shaldra the jar of balm. “We don’t need any more of that.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Shaldra whispered.
Then Billy turned to the others. “Come. It’s time we rescued Lady Myrredith.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ghost of a Chance
The new rescue party continued into the dark of the catacombs. Though he could sense his way to Cyndyn Hall with his ring, Billy allowed Aeth and his locket to lead. Shaldra took up a position at the ex-pickpocket’s side with orders from Billy to, “protect him as if he were me.” Billy and Hugh came next, with Malcolm and Camion guarding the rear. Billy split up his faerie light into a half-dozen orbs and spread them around so that no one had need for a torch.
After turning two corners, Hugh spoke to Billy in hushed tones. “You seem to know a great deal about what we face.”
“Unlike you, I can’t afford just to make it up as I go.”
“Funny. And yet you brought only the two of you.”
“You only brought four!”
“Yes, but I brought a very talented sneak, two skilled warriors, and a giant.”
“We brought weapons.”
“Good point.”
“But seriously, my plan depends on stealth and a speedy escape.”
Hugh raised an eyebrow. “Speedy escape?”
“Aye. Two members of my company are waiting with horses at the old stable, south of Cyndyn Hall.”
“The old ruin under the hill?”
“Aye.”
“How many horses?”
“I figured on one spare mount per rider, so ten.”
“There will be nine of us with Myrredith.”
“Then we’ll just have to do without spares.”
“Good plan.”
“I know.”
“How do you intend to get Lady Myrredith out of Cyndyn Hall and to the old stable?”
“There’s a secret passage that Lady Myrredith made me swear never to reveal to anyone. It goes under the walls of Cyndyn Hall to the south.”
“I know that passage, but there’s a great deal of open ground between the exit and the hill.”
“If we move quickly, we can make it before sunrise. Shaldra?”
“Aye.”
“Can we pick up the pace a bit?”
Shaldra glanced to Aeth, who nodded.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Let’s move.”
The party quickened their steps. Hugh continued to march with the group, but his eyes were on Billy more than the path ahead.
Billy noticed his stare. “What is it, Sir Hugh?”
“Please, just Hugh.”
“Sorry, Hugh.”
“Hearing Shaldra call you ‘Highness’ brought back to my feeble mind the truth of your identity and the meaning of your return. I was so overwhelmed and happy to see you alive, that it completely slipped my mind. In fact, I think it’s slipped all our minds, save Shaldra.”
“The meaning of my return?”
“Recently, a seer told me that I might save Lyonesse. With Ergyfel on the throne, I couldn’t see how that was possible, but now that you’ve returned, my direction is clear.”
“Hugh, why do you think I’ve returned?”
“To reclaim the throne, of course.”
“I came back to save Lady Myrredith.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Once we get to the crypt under Cyndyn Hall, you will wait there for us to return with Lady Myrredith. This rescue is far too risky for our future king. You must stay safe for the good of Lyonesse!”
“You’re not listening.” Billy put his hand on his friend’s forearm. “I didn’t come back for Lyonesse.”
Hugh fixed his eyes on him. “You are the heir. You have a responsibility—”
“I have other responsibilities.”
“Not to a whole kingdom!”
“Yes, to a whole kingdom.”
