The Betrayed Page 16

  Kayam raised his eyes as though he hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose they do. If I was hard-pressed, I guess I could just lead us out. Coming up with some bit o’ dung to feed him shouldn’t be too hard. If the right guard is on duty, anyway. There are some as wear the uniform o’ Citadel who’d rather stab us in the heart as let us pass.”

  “We’ll solve that riddle when it’s time,” Thimeon said. “For now let’s just figure out where we are going. I’d guess we still have to descend another five or six flights before we’re belowground.”

  The other two nodded. Thimeon led the way now. After two dead ends they found another staircase. By the third time they had explored a new floor, Thimeon had a good intuition for the layout. He found the next staircase right away. And so they descended six flights with the last four much quicker than the first two. Still, it seemed to be taking interminably long. Thimeon knew that every minute it took was a minute closer to daylight, when escaping from the palace would become much harder. And every day he was delayed was another day he could bring no aid in the battle against the Daegmon.

  But at least now the air was cooler and damp. They had come to a place where the wooden walls came to an end on one side and were replaced by walls of stone and mortar. The passage also got wider. They could almost walk two abreast. Thimeon’s hopes that he might find the treasure chamber again rose, and pondered what might be in it.

  However, the next floor proved more confusing. After descending one more level, the passage walls on both sides alternated between carved rock and mortar. Here the passage was two shoulders wide. Siyen came up beside Thimeon, and they led together. Then they came to a place where wall on one side turned to brick for about twenty feet. It appeared to be the back of several large stone fireplaces. Roasting heat poured off the bricks, and Thimeon moved quickly past. They had gone another hundred steps, when Kayam stopped and clapped his hands. “The kitchens!”

  “What?” Thimeon and Siyen asked simultaneously.

  “That’s what we just passed. The kitchens. The bakery, to be precise. Those chimneys are the backs of the ovens. That’s why they were all so hot. The day’s bread is being baked.”

  “Do you know which way the dungeons are from here?” Thimeon asked.

  Kayam paused and scratched his rough white beard. “I think the new dungeons are directly below us. The old dungeons, on the other hand—the ones from which you escaped, if I understand Siyen’s story—are over in the south keep. That’s quite a ways we have to go, I’m afraid. Clear across the castle and down. Even in the main hallways it would take me ten minutes of walking.”

  “Wait,” Thimeon said. “The new dungeons? Where an important prisoner might be kept?”

  “Probably,” Kayam answered. “That is, if Koranth hasn’t had him executed yet. Lots of covered wagons have left the castle as of late, and rumor says they’re full of corpses.”

  Siyen turned pale, but Thimeon gave himself no time to dwell on this somber thought. “We have to go there.”

  “That won’t be too easy,” Kayam replied. “And whether it’s easy or not, it wasn’t part of my deal. No amount of treasure is worth dying for.”

  “Don’t look at me either,” Siyen added quickly. “Your worst thoughts were true. I’m here for the treasure. I’ve risked my life enough for your quest and got nothing.”

  Thimeon shook his head sadly. “Then I will go alone. If there is any chance of finding the prince and rescuing him, I must at least try.”

  At the mention of the prince, however, Kayam raised his head with sudden interest. “Prince Dhan?”

  Thimeon nodded. “Yes. I mean to help him if I can.”

  The old guard stared for a moment. “Are you serious?” Then he lowered his voice. “Do we have a chance? Do any tunnels lead there? And if we do get him out of the dungeon, can your friends get him out of the city? That would be no small task.”

  Now Siyen stared wildly at Kayam. “Are you crazy? I thought you were—”

  “In it for the treasure?” Kayam finished. “I was. I have no loyalty to the throne. Not after the way I’ve been treated for all my years of service. But for Prince Dhan, I’d take some risks. That I would.” He turned back to Thimeon. “What are you thinking?”

  “It won’t be easy,” Thimeon admitted. “I’m almost sure I heard the prince say there are no passageways leading to the new dungeons. That was why he had us imprisoned in the old ones, so that we could escape. But perhaps we can get close—”

  “Wait,” Kayam said. “There may be a way. Despite Koranth’s bloody approach to eliminating opposition, there are still a few left in the castle—men of better character than myself, I must admit—who don’t bow to his ways. Men who keep their shoes clean of the dung heap, if you know what I mean. I’d guess most of them are loyal to the prince instead. Of course, if rumors are true, most of those loyal to the prince are in the dungeon with him, but I think I know somebody who might help us out. And he’s not too far away. Follow me.”

  Kayam didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and started back along the hall, disappearing out of the fading light of Thimeon’s lantern.

  Thimeon looked at Siyen. Her face was pale. But Kayam’s words made him even more hopeful. He turned and jogged to catch up.

  Half a minute later he stood next to Kayam. Siyen stepped into the light a few seconds after him, still looking pale. They were back where the mortar and stone walls of the secret passage gave way to brick. Except now they looked more closely, and Thimeon saw a wooden panel about armpit high on the near side of the fireplace. It had a latch and a hinge. A hidden passage!

  Kayam put his hand on it about to push, but Thimeon grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Wait!” he said in a loud whisper. “We have no idea who is out there. If this is a kitchen, it could be busy even in the early hours.”

  Kayam’s jaw dropped. “Well, I almost stepped in the dung,” he said.

  Thimeon looked around. At the edge of the fireplace, he noticed a row of bricks about knee high sticking out just far enough to make a step. He scanned further up the wall. About seven feet up was a hollow where several bricks were missing. It was hot, but not as hot as at the center of the chimneys.

  On a hunch, Thimeon stepped up on the ledge. It was just the right height to put his face to the gap in the bricks. He stared into a peephole with his right eye and found he was looking down into a busy and brightly lit room. It took his eye a moment to adjust. He seemed to be looking out through a sort of glass cabinet or cupboard. His vision was blurred on the edges, but looking straight ahead he could see clearly. Though it was still early in the morning, well before sunrise, he spotted four cooks working at tables around the room, while servants scurried in and out.

  He watched a moment, then stepped back down. Turning to Kayam, he said in a soft voice, “Take a look. Tell me if you see the person you are looking for. Somebody we can trust.”

  Kayam stepped up. “He’s there,” the old guard said almost at once. He also watched for about a minute and then stepped down. He looked at Siyen, then back at Thimeon. “He’s the head baker and pastry chef. Take a look. He’s the tall burly fellow with a big belly and even bigger chest and shoulders. If there is anybody in the castle we could trust—anybody loyal to the prince and willing to do good—it’s him.”

  “Does he know how?”

  The old soldier blushed. “In a manner of speaking. Can’t say he has any reason to like me. But for the sake of the prince, I’m willing to take a chance. Keep a watch up there, and let me know when it’s safe to go in. If I step in it, I step in it. But less risk for me than for you.”

  Thimeon clasped Kayam on the shoulder. Then got back up on the ledge and looked into the room. Right away he saw the man Kayam had described. Only one person in the room fit the description. He was busy at a table kneading a large ball of dough while shouting orders at everybody else. Most of wh
at he said was too muffled to hear over the general din, but Thimeon picked up a few words—mostly instructions about where to bring food and what to cook. There was no indication of the room emptying, however. No chance to get into the room and speak with the chef alone.

  Thimeon’s calves ached from standing on the ledge, and he began to despair. “We need to move,” Siyen said in an urgent voice. But Thimeon kept his watch. If this was the one hope, he would cling to it.

  Half an hour passed, and then he saw the chance they were waiting for. The room started to clear. One at a time the servants left. “Get ready,” Thimeon whispered down. Soon the room cleared of everybody except the head baker. “Go!” he said.

  Kayam popped through a hidden panel out into the room and pulled the door closed behind him before the chef could even spin around. Thimeon remained behind the wall, peering through the spy hole. He saw the blurry figure of Kayam appear out of the right side of his vison.

  The baker turned and jumped at the sight of a uniformed guard seeming to appear out of nowhere. But if he was surprised, he showed no fear. In an instant, he had a huge butcher’s knife in his hand and walking menacingly toward Kayam. With the room otherwise quiet, Thimeon could now make out the words. “What are you doing here, you thieving scoundrel and unfaithful crooked wretch of—”

  “Hold it,” Kayam pleaded, holding up his hands. “I need your help.”

  “You need more than my help if you don’t get out of this kitchen by the time—”

  “It’s the prince,” Kayam said. “Dhan. He needs help.”

  The baker stopped. He took a quick look around. “What have I to do with the prince?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I’m here to rescue him.”

  “You? You’re too cowardly to try—and too greedy to care.”

  “I won’t argue that, but I’m speaking the truth. The prince once risked his life to save my wife and child, and I promised I’d help him someday if ever I got the chance.”

  The baker laid down his knife and shook his head sadly. “He’ll take some helping to get him out now.” Then he turned and looked at Kayam. “And so will I, I guess, if I just fell into a trap.”

  “It’s not a trap,” Kayam said. “I want to help him. I’ve got friends with me, and others outside who are also ready to aid us escape from the castle and the city if we can get him out of the dungeon.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  Kayam thought for a moment. “Bread and three aprons.” But before the chef could act, Kayam turned suddenly toward one of the doors into the room, apparently hearing something that Thimeon couldn’t hear from the other side of the panel. “Can you keep everybody else out of here for a moment?”

  The chef nodded and strode to the door. He disappeared, and Thimeon heard him yell an order down the hall, forestalling the return of one of his assistants. But Kayam now looked right at the spy hole and motioned for Thimeon to come out. Thimeon jumped down at once, pushed the lever, swung open the door, and popped out of a panel in the wall with Siyen close behind. The chef stepped back into the room holding three serving aprons. “Well I’ll be,” the baker said, shaking his head in surprise and amazement as Thimeon closed the secret panel behind him. “All the years I’ve been here. Where on earth—?”

  “No time to explain,” Kayam replied. He grabbed the aprons and handed one each to Thimeon and Siyen. “Which way to the dungeons?” he asked the chef.

  Thimeon had an idea what Kayam’s plan was. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he didn’t have a better one. He donned his apron. Siyen and Kayam put theirs on also.

  Three minutes later, Kayam, Siyen, and Thimeon were dressed as kitchen staff and descending a wide stairwell. To reach the dungeons, the chef told them, they had to pass through three guardrooms. The baker knew the routine well since his staff was responsible for feeding the prisoners as well as the guards. Each of the three rooms had two guards on duty at all times. The first two also had alarm bells that rang in the big guardroom on the floor above, where twenty or more guards remained on alert. The third and lowest room was behind heavy doors. From there three hallways ran to the various cells. There was no other way down.

  Siyen cursed Thimeon and Kayam under her breath, but she went along with them carrying a pitcher of water. The other two each had two loaves of bread. Their swords were concealed beneath their aprons. Somebody looking closely might have noticed the end of a scabbard or seen the faint outline beneath the white cloth. Thimeon had to hope nobody would look closely.

  His hopes were not vain. They passed the first pairs of guards without drawing any attention and descended a staircase and along a short hall into another chamber. The guards there grunted at them but gave them hardly a glance. Then it was through another door and down a longer stair.

  At the bottom of another long stair, a bolted door blocked the way. Thimeon knocked, and a guard answered. Kayam nudged Siyen, who answered that they were bringing bread and water to the prisoners.

  The door opened. In she stepped, followed by Kayam and Thimeon. The door slammed behind them. They looked up to see both guards standing with fierce grins on their faces and their spears lowered threateningly. Siyen’s face was white. Thimeon’s stomach was in his throat. Were they exposed? Caught? Was this a trap? He was ready to drop the bread and make a grab for his sword, when one guard lowered his spear and sniffed. “That smells too fresh for prisoners.”

  Thimeon’s heart pounded, but he went with his intuition and took a leap. “I don’t care who eats it,” he replied gruffly, casting his eyes downward. “And I don’t want trouble. I’m just following orders. As long as you report to the head baker that I delivered the bread where I was supposed to, you can eat it all.”

  “That’s more like it,” the guard replied. They leaned their spears back against the wall. “Just leave one loaf with us. You can divide the other among the prisoners in the cells to the left and straight ahead. But stay out of the corridor on the right. King’s orders. Nobody goes there.”

  The prince! Thimeon guessed. But he kept his excitement hidden and his eyes lowered. How to get down the corridor on the right was now the question.

  He risked a brief sidelong glance at Kayam, who gave a barely perceptible nod. Now was the time. Thimeon held out the loaf of bread, but let it slip out of his hand just as the guard reached for it. Cursing, the guard bent down to pick it up. As he did, Thimeon drove his knee sharply into the man’s face. Before the guard could even breathe, Thimeon slammed his elbow down on the man’s head. Either the elbow or his collision with the floor knocked him unconscious. The other guard let out half a shout and turned for his spear just as a pitcher of water shattered across the back of his head. Kayam took him down and had a knife to his throat in an instant. “Don’t breathe a word,” he whispered.

  Thimeon looked back at the heavy door and thick walls, imagining the long stair with another heavy door at the top. He had to trust it had sufficed to muffle the sounds.

  He turned and took his first careful look around the room. It was just a large square space, with four walls of stone and mortar and a door in each. On the opposite wall hung some ropes, a pair of lanterns, a few chains attached to leg irons, and a three heavy wooden beams. The other three walls were bare except for doors. He started at once toward the door on the right, then turned. “Tie up the prisoners,” he told Siyen, pointing toward the ropes. She nodded, and headed at once toward the wall where the rope hung while Kayam kept a knife to the throat of the guard who remained conscious. “Bind them both. Throw them into a cell on the left. I’ll look for the prince.”

  Seconds later Thimeon was through the door. He stood at the entrance of a short hall. It had six doors, all on the right side. The doors were bolted heavily from the outside, but they had no keyholes. He started down the hall, looking through the grate into each one. Each was empty—until he reached the last cell.

&nbs
p; 16

  THE AMANTI

  Elynna lay on her belly on the slope, trembling with fear and exhaustion. Several Citadel arrows lay on the ground around her. One was stuck in dirt inches from her hand. But for a moment she was safe. The Uët warriors had launched their ambush just in time. She turned and looked back down the slope. More enemy soldiers had piled over the ridge, but they stopped short when they saw what awaited them—many of their companions lay dead upon the slopes. The rest were retreating, fleeing from the Uët warriors, who gave brief pursuit.

  She rose to her knees and took a quick inventory. All her companions had reached the top except herself, Beth, Noaem, and Tienna. Tienna, who stayed at the end of the pack as rear guard, stepped beside Elynna and pulled her to her feet. Together they climbed the remaining distance. Atop the slope, Elynna turned to look back down. They were several hundred feet above the Plains and she could see for a hundred miles southward. For just a moment her eyes rested on the blue of Lake Umgog glittering in the early afternoon sun. Then her gaze fell to the slope below and the glittering of swords and spears below that same sun, where the Citadel army was regrouping. The Uët warriors had already ceased their pursuit and disappeared again into hiding. The battle, Elynna knew, was far from over. Her companions had been given a reprieve. That was all.

  She turned to her companions. Lluach and Alrew spoke in low voices. They had spotted Golach and were trying to identify a captain speaking with him.

  “Come,” Tienna commanded. “We do not know how long our people can hold them off. We are outnumbered five to one. Now is our chance to escape.”

  “No,” Nahoon answered. “These are my people. I must stay and fight. This is why I should have left the company earlier—to be with them.”

  “I will stay too,” Cane said.

  “And I,” echoed Cathros.

  “You fools,” Tienna cried. “Do you not see? The Uët warriors don’t want a battle. It is for us they are fighting, buying time so we can escape and fulfill our quest. If we are killed, then their sacrifice means nothing. And the sooner we disappear, the sooner they can disappear. Fade into these slopes and out into the Plains and be gone.”