The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [82]
He awoke from a dream of another wine cellar visited under happier circumstances, unsure whether he had been asleep for an hour or a day. He was distantly aware that something had wakened him but couldn’t recall what it was.
He sat up and was wondering whether it was worth his while to stand when he heard a muffled thump.
His first thought was that the trapdoor was being opened, but then the thump repeated itself, and he felt the floor vibrate. His nose itched, and he suddenly found himself sneezing. The air was full of dust.
The sound seemed to be coming from the wall, so he went to it and placed his hands against it. This time, when the impact came, he felt it through the clay and made out a thin shattering sound.
The next was louder still, and the one after that was suddenly sharp and unmuffled, as if he had been underwater listening and suddenly had surfaced. He felt air move against his face and smelled sour wine.
Whatever it was hit again, and he felt clay shards pepper him. He shifted to put himself beside the rapidly growing hole.
Suddenly light came pouring through, so bright that at first he thought it must be the sun, until a lantern poked through the hole and he realized it was just his light-starved eyes playing tricks on him.
“Cazio?”
Oddly, for the first heartbeat he didn’t recognize the voice, although in the entire world it was the one most familiar to him.
“Z’Acatto?”
A grizzled face pushed through the opening behind the lantern.
“You’re an idiot,” the old man said.
“How—”
“Just get through here,” the swordmaster snapped. “With your luck, they’re on their way to get you now.”
“Right,” Cazio said. He got down on his hands and knees and pushed the rubble aside until he could crawl through.
What he entered was another underground chamber, and from what he could see of it in the light of z’Acatto’s lantern, it was really enormous. A sledgehammer leaning against the wall testified to the method the older man had used to rescue him, and to make matters even odder, on this side of the wall there was a door frame that had been withed and plastered over.
“So there was a secret exit,” he murmured as he stood.
“Sealed up a long time ago.”
Cazio studied his mentor for an instant, then threw his arms around him. He smelled of wine and many days of sweat, and for a moment Cazio thought he was going to cry. He felt z’Acatto stiffen, then soften and return the embrace, albeit tentatively.
“I should have known,” Cazio said.
“All right, enough of that,” z’Acatto said. “We don’t have time to go all weepy. Here, take this.”
He handed Cazio Acredo.
“Where did you get that?”
“Some soldiers were fooling around with it and left it in the hall near the kitchen. It wasn’t Caspator, but I figured it was probably yours.”
“Thanks,” Cazio said. Then he smiled. “You stayed.”
Z’Acatto’s brows collapsed in a frown. “Not on your account,” he said, wagging his finger. “I told you I was going back to Vitellio, and that’s still my plan.”
“You must be healed by now. You could have left months ago. Or has the Church been here this whole time?”
Z’Acatto’s eyes lit up with familiar mischief. “No, they only arrived a nineday ago. I found another reason to stay. Do you know who built this place?”
“I don’t know. The Dunmroghs?”
“The Dunmroghs? They’re the last crows to land here. This castle was built two hundred years ago. Back then the land was carved up into petty kingdoms by the knights of Anterstatai. Does that give you a clue?”
“Should it?” Cazio said. “The only thing I remember about the knights of Anterstatai—oh, no. You’ve got to be joking.”
Z’Acatto’s smile broadened. “Douco Cherfi daz’Avrii.”
Cazio took another look at the room they stood in and realized that all of the wine smell did not come from his old teacher. He was in another cellar, much vaster than the first.
“Impossible.”
“Come along,” z’Acatto said. “We’ll want to be far away when they find you missing.”
“You weren’t looking for me at all,” Cazio accused.
“Not until yesterday, no. But I have to eat, and the