The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [39]
“Second, we are trying to rescue Tinok. Our effort would only be hampered should the Empire learn we are on the move again.”
“Oh,” says Stig slightly embarrassed, “that makes sense.”
“Alright,” Ceadric says, “there’s an hour or so until sunset. Once it begins growing dark I will return and escort you through the back ways down to the stables. Then those of you who have no armor will be fitted with a breastplate and helm. When you are away from the keep, you can return the armor to Hedry and he and his men will bring it back once their patrol is over.”
“In your horses’ saddlebags, you will find clothes that will enable you to blend in with the citizens of the Empire.” Turning to James he asks, “Did you wish a translator?”
“I think that would be best,” he says.
“Very well, I’ll have him meet you there.” Before he leaves he asks, “Is there anything else?”
Shaking his head, James says, “Not that I can think of.”
“Then I will return when it is dark.” With that, he heads for the door and exits to the hallway. Closing the door behind him, they can hear his footsteps as he makes his way toward the stairs.
James commences to fill his plate and then stops when his eyes catch something. He stares at Miko until Miko asks, “What?”
Smiling, he says, “I never saw a high priest before with tart jelly smeared across his cheek.” Laughter fills the room as Miko wipes the jelly off his reddening face.
Now, almost two hours later, James stands at the window in the darkened room looking out into the night. A knock at the door breaks the stillness and when Jiron opens it, light comes in from where Ceadric stands in the hallway with a lantern.
“It’s time,” he says.
Coming from the window, James along with the others pick up their things. Leaving the dark room behind, they follow Ceadric down the hallway to the stairs where they descend all the way down to the bottom.
Once they leave the stairwell, Ceadric takes them through hallways other than those they used to initially reach the tower. Few servants are about, those they encounter pay them little attention.
They finally arrive at a locked door where Ceadric pauses a moment and produces a key that unlocks it. Pushing the door open, the unmistakable odor of straw and horse manure comes to them.
Hedry along with a dozen other Raiders whom they recognize turn toward them when they hear the door open.
“Everything set?” asks Ceadric as he moves into the stable.
“Yes sir,” replies Hedry. He and his men begin equipping those who need it with armor they brought. All that is except Brother Willim who dons a plain dark cloak which is as far as he’s willing to go.
Ceadric waves over a soldier who comes and joins him while he helps James into his armor. “This is Reilin,” he says. “He’s willing to accompany you and be your interpreter.”
“Welcome aboard, Reilin,” James says in greeting.
Reilin merely nods in reply. Standing a hair over six feet, he makes an imposing figure with his jet black hair.
“Are the gates still being watched?” Jiron asks.
“Last we checked they were,” Ceadric replies. “Don’t worry, I doubt if they’ll suspect anything.”
“Let’s hope not,” says James.
When at last they are all suitably attired in armor, they mount their horses. James and Miko need help, the additional weight of the armor making it difficult for them to make it up. With the aid of two Raiders, they manage to get into the saddle.
Hedry mounts and looks back. “Form it up back there,” he commands. James and the rest tighten their formation with Brother Willim in the middle. “We leave the barn and head straight for the gates. No talking or stopping.” After receiving acknowledgement for the plan, he turns back toward the stable’s exit and nudges his horse into motion.
They leave the stable and begin crossing the open courtyard toward the gate. As they draw near, a clank is heard and the portcullis begins to be drawn up. On the other side of the wall is a group of four men dressed in Empire attire not more than ten feet from the gate. Standing around a fire, they turn at the raising of the portcullis.