The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [186]
Looking back on it, it seemed rather vague, the tale of that siege. There was lots of talk about bravery and bloody determination but not much detail about how William I had actually ended up in the Hall of Doves, with his sword driven into Thiuzwald Fram Reiksbaurg’s liver.
How many times had it happened like this? A small group of women or Sefry invading the fortress through this passageway to work some sort of mischief, to open the lower gates that a larger force might enter? Mother Uun, it seemed to her, was the keeper of far too much power. The fate of a dynasty could hinge on her Sefry whims.
But any man who sought her aid wouldn’t recall exactly what had happened, wouldn’t know how he’d gotten into the castle, wouldn’t remember how much power this lone Sefry wielded.
But Anne would remember. She would remember, and she would do something about it. When she was queen, there would be no walking into the castle unopposed.
With a sudden shock, Anne realized how intently Mother Uun was watching her. Could the Sefry read her thoughts?
“Well?” she asked.
“At the base of the stairs you will find the passage,” the Sefry explained. “Take the right-hand way, and it will take you outside the city, to the rinns. Take the left-hand way, and you will find your way into the dungeons, and from there into the castle, if you so wish. If the lower way is filled with water, you will find the valves that drain them in a small chamber to the left, just before the point where the water reaches the ceiling. They will take time to open up, of course, on the order of half a day.”
Anne nodded. If her vision was accurate, Sir Fail’s fleet would arrive in two days. If Thornrath was in Artwair’s hand’s by then, her uncle could confront the fleet and keep the outside gates open long enough for her to exit, then lead in a larger force.
She’d considered trying to take the palace with the men she had with her but didn’t think there would be enough of them. There were hundreds of guards in the castle. The thirty men she had left wouldn’t be enough to do more than tip her hand.
Either way, it was probably going to be difficult getting men to follow her through a gate they couldn’t remember even while they were looking at it. But it could be done. Cazio had managed to follow her would-be-assassin, after all. And her brother, Uncle Fail, and the Craftsmen had managed somehow to leave Eslen, led by Alis Berrye, if the rumors were true.
Yes, it could be done, and she had to take the first step: making certain the way was open.
“Take Cazio’s hand, Austra,” Anne said. “The rest of you, link hands as well. Keep them held until I tell you to let go. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Very well. And now we go.”
“Go where?” Cazio asked.
Cazio wondered if he’d gotten drunk without knowing it. He was aware of Austra’s hand, of the stone beneath his feet, of Anne’s face in lamplight, but he kept getting lost in the details.
He couldn’t actually remember what he was doing or where they were. It was like walking through a terrible sort of dream. He kept thinking he was waking, only to discover that he’d only dreamed he was doing so.
He remembered going into the Sefry house and Anne talking about something or other with the old woman. He recalled that they’d gone down to the cold cellar, which seemed peculiar.
But that felt like a long time ago.
Maybe it was a dream, he decided. Or maybe he was drunk.
Maybe—He blinked. Anne was talking to someone again. Now she was shouting.
And now he was running. But why? He slowed to look around, but Austra tugged hard on his hand and screamed for him to keep going.
He heard unfamiliar laughter somewhere.
He tasted blood on his lips, which seemed especially odd.
NEIL FELT the death calm settle about him. His breathing evened, and he savored the salt air as he watched a sea eagle banking in a sky equally