The Last Dragon: Book Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

When I awoke again, I was alone. Mentally better, hungry, and alone. A plate of food was on the table, cheese, sliced meat, bread, and fresh water. Enough for two. I ate it all. Since Elizabeth was out doing princess work, I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes because it made mental communicating easier.

*Anna?*

*I’m here.*

*I’ve been sleeping and don’t know what time of the day or night it is.*

*If that is the only reason you are talking to me, I’ll punch you next time I see you.*

*No, there is a lot going on here. When I woke last time after fighting off that essence in the king, Elizabeth was talking about armies from Fairbanks, Landor, and Malawi leaving on ships to the coast near you. I made her promise I’d be on one of the first.*

*That’s wonderful news. Kendra will be excited.*

*I have to go now, but we’ll talk later when I know a few facts.*

*Wait. What about giving me another letter?*

I passed two of them on to her and felt her joy in there being two instead of one. At the rate she was going, we’d be sounding out basic words before long.

The room felt cold, so I wore a blanket like a cape as I explored. There was no consideration of leaving until Elizabeth returned. Aside from dust and the smell of things old and unused, the room contained all a person would need over an extended period of time. A shelf held clothing of all sizes, another food such as nuts and dried fruit that would last season after season. A series of kegs held mild wine and others sour ale.

The bed, sofa, a few small tables, and a large store of candles laid beside flint and steel. Those meager furnishings completed the room. It was safe, not comfortable, probably constructed when the wing of the castle was built, unknown to all but a few . . . and it bothered me. Besides being a safe place to hide, it was a trap.

If enemies forced part of the royal family to hide in the room, after a few days they could only depart to face their enemies and possible execution. It was an unpleasant thought and not the way I’d construct a safe room.

My eyes searched the undecorated walls for the outlines of a hidden door. There were none. The floor was made of flagstones far too heavy to lift. The mortar between them indicated they were permanent. It didn’t make sense.

The musty smell triggered a thought. I’d smelled it before. A cave. I’d explored a cave with Kendra in Dire, an old mineshaft, and it smelled similar. I placed a hand on the wall nearest me and tapped softly, then moved to my left until I’d circumnavigated the room, tapping the entire time.

I went to my knees and began a minute exploration of the floor, moving everything to search under. The bed had a metal railing that fell off and clattered to the stone floor, certain to be heard by anyone in the outer suite of rooms. It hadn’t been attached to the bed but held on with hooks. No demanding pounding came from the door, so I continued searching—and find nothing.

Finally, I sat on my bed again, frustrated and puzzled. The faint smell continued to antagonize me. The room was in disarray, far more than when I’d entered. Knowing the tongue-lashing Elizabeth would give me, I started cleaning.

All went well until it came to attaching the metal railing to the rear of the bed. There were two hooks on the back of the bed to hang it on. That made sense of a sort, but it didn’t provide any support for the bed. What didn’t make sense were two other items. First, was the length of the railing was too long for the bed. While all the rest of the bed was of quality construction, no craftsman would make the railing stick out on each end so far.

The second thing was that I noticed there were small iron hooks at one end of the railing, built to look as if they were part of the overall design, but hooks all the same. The other end of the rails were flattened.

It isn’t a bed railing. It’s a ladder.

The thought sprang into my head as a fact, not conjecture. The slats were steps when it was stood upright. The hooks on one end were there for a reason. I looked at the walls again, with new eyes. At a height my hand could almost reach, a decorative band of molding circled the room. It was at the same height the railing would be if stood on end. My heart pounded. Above the molding was a small section of wall, decorated with geometric designs.

My eyes tracked it, starting at the nearest corner. Nothing stood out. I started on the next and instantly saw a pair of decorative slots cut in the top of the molding, the width of the railing apart. Heart pounding, I lifted the ladder, turned it right-side-up, and moved the top to the slots. It slipped into place as if made for it, which it was. There were posts to hold the hooks in place.

I tested the bottom step and found it solid. Three more and I examined the ceiling above the ladder. There had to be something else. Nobody would go to the trouble to construct the ladder and hide it unless there was a reason.

Up close, located above the molding where it was unseen from below, was a thumbhole. I reached in and lifted. A section of the geometric design pulled free, hinged at the top. Behind it was a tunnel through solid rock and the source of the smell.

It was dark inside. Cobwebs filled it so full I couldn’t see more than a short distance. Before entering the tunnel, I’d want something to clear the cobwebs and a candle. I closed the hatch, removed the latter and replaced it on the bed, and sat on the sofa, letting all sorts of ideas run free.

The tunnel cut into the rock told me it was an escape tunnel, the last resort. It made sense. However, where the tunnel emerged was a weak point in the defense system. If anyone knew, or discovered it, on the outside, they could enter the room and thus the castle.

Nobody had, not recently, the cobwebs said, but my devious mind told me that if the care to build one tunnel and the secret room had been taken—there were more.

A tap at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I peeked through the pinhole and found Elizabeth. I let her inside. Instead of her gown, she wore a pair of work pants, a loose shirt, and a floppy leather hat. Where and why would come later, I assumed.

I still wore my fancy dress clothing.

She started talking from the time the door opened. She and the king had been in the conference for an entire morning. Outside of his private quarters, from a small private balcony, she’d watched the army organizing, gathering supplies, and plans being made. The two mages had not yet been located and I wished I had Kendra’s power to locate them.

Two enemy mages in the palace could be a problem. They might use their magic and call down storms with lightning to destroy the army ships, or worse. They could be attempting to assassinate the king and his sons.

The dying Waystone outside the east gate returned to my thoughts. I hadn’t seen or heard of any magic in Malawi since arriving. Not only was that odd, but there had been no resistance by the four mages who were captured and executed. What mage would allow himself to be captured without using magic to defend himself?

Remembering the small rainstorms I’d created in the desert, I had no doubt I could create a veil of mist to hide me in all but direct sunshine. A true mage could probably do much more to hide or disguise himself. Without having ever done so, I believed I could distort my features enough that nobody would recognize me. A slight change to the cut of my hair, a bit of light brown, and perhaps a distinctive fake scar on my cheek and I could go anywhere unrecognized. Why hadn’t the mages done that to protect themselves?

I believed I knew the answer. I interrupted her dialogue, “The Waystone here is dying. The mages have no essence to draw from, or if they do, it is very little, or they couldn’t have been captured. The only place to obtain more essence is from the Wyvern we’re seen near here and they were too high. We need to tell the king to order them killed on sight. No Wyvern, no magic.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I have no idea. My magic is as strong as ever, maybe stronger. I can’t explain.”

“We depart in the morning,” she said. “Be ready.”

I wanted to be away from Malawi almost as badly as I had wanted to visit it. It had the feel of a full pot ready to boil over. As if to emphasize that idea, a fist pounding came from the door of the safe room.

We rushed to it, to the small viewport, and outside were soldiers, blades drawn. One charged the door and struck it with his shoulder. If they were sent by the king, they would have identified themselves. Despite the iron bar in place, now that they had discovered the door to the hidden room behind the tapestry, they’d either break through or set it on fire and then enter.

The king might send men to rescue us before that happened. Or he might not.

“We have to go,” I whispered.

She looked at me in surprise. Her eyes flittered around the room in confusion.

“There is a tunnel,” I said softly as I ran for the ladder on her bed. From the sounds of the pounding at the door, and the heavier thumps, some sort of battering ram was in use. The door wouldn’t hold much longer. If I was a better mage, I would cast a magic spell of some kind. I handed Elizabeth a tall metal candlestick. She took it but was confused as I carried the railing to the wall below the trapdoor and set it in place. As she swept past me, up the ladder, I said, “There’s a thumbhole up there.”

I grabbed two candles already lighted, and my sword. The candles stood on small brass holders and we’d need them for light in the tunnel. She already had the trapdoor open and used the long candlestick to sweep ahead and clear away some of the cobwebs. I followed, placed the lighted candles on the floor of the tunnel, and reached back to get rid of the ladder so they wouldn’t find the tunnel.

A sharp lift cleared it off the hooks, and a shove sent it bouncing across the floor where it came to rest, one end leaning on the bed. I couldn’t have planned it better. The thumping on the door increased to heavy booming. The doorframe shook with each new blow.

I lowered the trapdoor carefully and silently crawled to attempt catching up with Elizabeth. She ignored the lack of light ahead as she swung the candlestick from side to side as she moved, collecting an impressive number of cobwebs wrapped on it. I hurried behind, losing ground the entire time. We crawled until my palms were sore, my knees tender, and never slowed.

Elizabeth turned a corner and disappeared. I hurried to catch up. She turned another corner and we crawled down a slight decline and came to a halt. Ahead was a heavy wooden door, a metal bar the diameter of my thumb set into the wall. She lifted one end and let it drop. A handle let her pull the door to us.

Light streamed inside.

She pulled it open more and we found a jumble of vines, shrubs, trees, and other dense growth. Elizabeth poked her head outside, and after a quick glance around, crawled out. I followed. We stood on the side of a steep hill, almost a cliff, the outer wall of the castle behind us fifty steps. Vines and brambles grew all around, interweaving and growing over the wood door that could barely be seen.

I pulled it closed after me and moved the undergrowth back in place to hide it. Elizabeth had spiderwebs in her hair, on her shoulders, and most everywhere else. I couldn’t see myself but could feel them. I’d feel them for days to come, even if I managed to find a bath.

“Where are we?” she asked.

Down the slope, were the buildings of the city. Beyond was the bay, narrower than the mouth. The sun was above. I said, “I think that is south.”

“So, we go to our right,” she interrupted instantly.

I went back to the door and listened. Nothing. After pulling it closed again, we found a small animal track and followed it. We kept the wall of the castle on our right as we moved. Before too long, we came to a road.

“Hold on,” she ordered as she began brushing my hair with her fingers, then my face and she worked down to my waist. I did the same for her.

I cannot say she looked that much better when I finished, but at least she wouldn’t scare anyone. We walked out on the road and pretended we were a couple out for a stroll—if anyone noticing us also ignored the sword I carried in my hand, the torn knees in my pants, and the spiderwebs clinging to odd places.

“Now what?” she asked me.

“We sneak into the Black Swan where our clothes and things are.”

“And then?” She asked as if I should have the answers to all her questions.

“We contact the king and hitch a ride on a ship sailing to the Brownlands.”

To my surprise, those answers seemed to satisfy her. We walked behind a slow wagon pulled by a lazy mule because it hid us from people walking towards us, and those coming from behind were so anxious to pass they never looked in our direction.

Two soldiers rushed past, talking about the battle waging in the castle. I decided not to ask them any questions since they sounded as confused as us. We entered the main part of the upper city and spotted the inn from a distance.

We trudged nearer and a familiar carriage pulled from the stables and raced our way. As it neared us, Honest Bran leaped from the seat and said, “I’ve been worried. Where have you been? Never mind, there is a war that started last night. I thought you might be caught up in it.”

I considered telling him we had started it.

He rumbled on, “I heard all about the princess who wore a crown of light. She was dressed exactly like you were.” His eyes were on Elizabeth, now crowned with a few strands of straw and more than a few remnants of cobwebs.

Bran helped us into the carriage, telling us about the army getting ready to sail, the recovery of the king’s health, and the rumors that four mages were dead, but two others had hidden away. We arrived at the front door and the coachman rushed to our aid, then as he got a good look at us, he halted.

“Yes, yes, I know we’re a mess,” Elizabeth snarled. “We need baths and we need them now.” She climbed down without his help and strode inside, past the matron at the tall desk, and turned to take the small stairway at the end of the counter without another word.

I meekly followed.

She stormed into our room and ordered me to my alcove, as she let the leather hat spin from her fingertips and fly across the room Her boots were kicked off before I could get around her, and she was untucking her shirt as I pulled the curtain.

I slowly pulled my boots off, and knowing she was going to take a while, I stuck my head into the hallway and called for food. I settled on my sofa and fell asleep to the sound of water pouring and splashing.

She woke me and I got into the tub with the water she’d allowed to cool. The harsh soap woke my skin up and I tingled all over, but the feel of cobwebs wouldn’t go away. My fancy clothing from the ball was tattered, the knees were torn, no amount of cleaning was going to help them.

I put on another set of new things and joined Elizabeth. She wore a simple dress that managed to look impressive. We walked down the stairs together and entered the dining room where we were greeted by an excited buzz of conversation.

The topic was the same at every table in the room. A battle had broken out, mages were being hunted, the army was marching, and the king was well. His illness had been overcome. Cured. However, there were few facts and a lot of guesses. Nobody paid us any attention. I whispered, “We know more than them.”

Elizabeth said, “Bran knows more than these people.”

I stood with her and we went out the back way where the stable was located. He appeared as if by magic, in his carriage. We climbed inside, she sat beside him again.

“Where to?”

“Just a ride around Malawi and some talk,” she said. “Hear any good rumors today?”

He laughed, “I don’t know what you did last night, but everyone is talking about the princess with the gold crown, which I suppose is you.”

She pulled a coin and placed it in his hand. “Before I forget to pay you. We’ll be leaving soon.”

His face paled. “Too much.”

“I only pay what a service is worth to me. You’ve been here and looked out for us.”

“I cannot accept this,” he tried handing it back to her.

Elizabeth turned to face him. “I am a princess and will meet with your king this evening. We will need you to take us to the castle, but are you forcing me to tell him you have insulted me?”

He broke out in a grin—and then it faded slowly. “Your meeting might be delayed. The castle is a dangerous place today. A small army slipped inside and is hunting down any royalty or supporters of the crown. The loyal army has been locked out of the south wing where the king and his family is located. The mages are advancing on them.”

She said, “And the invaders are in the south wing?”

“Yes,” he said.

She pointed to the castle looming high above us. “Which is the south wing?”

He pointed to the wall above the tunnel we’d emerged from. Instead of the reaction I expected, which was to charge up the hill and enter the tunnel, she turned to quiet introspection. Then she said, “Is there an armorer that sells bows nearby?”

He turned a corner and sped up. He said, “You cannot go inside.”

She refused to answer. People on the street scattered at our approach, a few shouted insults as we raced past them, but Bran only shouted for the horse to run faster and used his whip to get them moving faster. He finally pulled to a halt and pointed to a doorway. A placard beside the door held a stylized bow.

She leaped out of the carriage before I could, and I followed her inside. A customer was talking to a man, but she stepped between them. “Excuse my rudeness but I need two short bows and arrows right away.”

The dour customer smirked and said as an insult, “I suppose you’re going to practice your archery? That’s why you interrupt my discussion? You can wait until I’m finished.”

“I intend to defend Malawi today. And your king,” she snapped, then turned to the shop owner. “Now, enough talk, show me your weapons or face my wrath.”

Behind her, Honest Bran said to the shopkeeper, “Better do it. Either that, or I’ll tell your wife about that wench at the roundhouse you’ve been sneaking off to see.”

“Short bows, you say?”