Duty: a novel of Rhynan (29 page)

We never finished our argument. Dentin kept Tomas
planning until midafternoon. Then he sent me to bed so that I would
be fresh for our assault. He woke me at dusk, mere minutes before
we were to rendezvous with the rest of the team. I scrambled into
my gear. Tomas produced two oilskin capes. They didn’t offer much
protection from the cold, but they would keep rain off.

Once he checked to make sure I had all the armor and
weapons I was supposed to, he led me out into the deepening
darkness. The sky hung almost black in the east, and the
gray-yellow glow of an overcast sunset faded slowly in the west. It
wasn’t raining yet. A frigid wind whipped through the camp from the
north. As my teeth started chattering, I hoped the sacrificed
insulation was worth it.

I shouldn’t have wondered. True to Lolathen’s
prediction, the rain arrived as a fire circle marking the sentry
point came into view. The random drops of water spit and hissed in
the flames. Eirianware stepped out of the gloom and bowed.

“How many have arrived?” Tomas asked.

“Worand, Yerns, and Polaner checked in, my lord.”

“Sir Rathenridge show yet?”

Before Eirianware could speak, the man himself
stepped out of the gloom. “Just waiting for you to arrive.”

“Dentin?” Tomas asked.

“Coming. You should have time to make introductions,
assign roles, and clarify orders before he shows.”

Tomas turned to Eirianware in time to watch Worand,
Yerns and Polaner join us in the light of the smoking fire.

“Men, this is my wife, Lady Irvaine. You may refer to
her for the duration of this mission by the name Rell. We don’t
want them to know who she is. Upon completion of our mission that
permission is revoked.”

The men nodded.

“Brielle.” Tomas checked that I was attending.
“Captains Worand, Yerns, and Polaner will make up the rest of our
party. They respond best by their last names, just like Eirianware,
whom you already met.”

Each man dipped their head in turn as their name was
mentioned. I couldn’t get a good view of Worand because he stood on
the edge of the light, head tilted so his face fell mostly in
shadow. His one obvious feature was a shaggy mane of medium brown
hair.

Yerns was a thin man, wiry and lean, with alert eyes
and still hands. I expected him to be a fidgety type with that
intent gaze, but his hands rested on his weapons, relaxed and
ready.

Polaner stooped and hunched to one side. Holding his
left shoulder higher than his right, he appeared to be hiding his
face like a shy boy when he nodded my way. He moved deliberately,
as though thinking about each gesture. I wondered how he would
handle himself in a fight.

I smiled at Eirianware. A familar face among these
new strangers calmed my nerves a bit. After a startled blink, his
features relaxed into an answering smile.

“The mission is simple in concept. Infiltrate the
vargar and capture Sir Jorndar and Lord Wisten. The execution will
be a bit more complex. The king has demanded that Lady
Irvaine–“

“Rell,” Rathenridge prompted.

Tomas glared at him before continuing. “Rell is
coming with us. Your primary goal is to protect her.”

All three men lifted their faces. I glimpsed Worand’s
heavy features and narrowed eyes before he hid his face in the
shadows again. At least I had some idea what he looked like.

“Not the mission?” Polaner asked.

“Let Dentin, Rathenridge, and me worry about the
mission. Her safety is of utmost importance, understood?”

The four acknowledged the order.

“Good, now for the details. We enter the city by the
postern gate hidden on the south wall. Our escort will lead us into
the vargar via an entrance prepared by our inside informant. From
there, it is our task to find the two men. Questions?”

“How many armed men inside?” Yerns’ eyes darted to
the others as though counting our number.

“Ten armed guards, Lord Wisten, Sir Jorndar, and the
lady, Rolendis.”

“What should we do if we encounter the lady?” Polaner
asked.

“Subdue, but do not harm. She isn’t our focus.”

“I am not happy with the plan, sir.” Yern’s sharp
gaze studied Tomas’ face without diffidence or guile. “A cornered
animal is more dangerous than one with a way out.”

“Sir Landry and the king’s men will storm the vargar
in five hours. We have until then to get inside, open the gates,
find the men, and subdue them.”

“Not kill them?” Worand hadn’t moved, but his
gravelly voice drew all of our attention.

“If possible.”

“If not?” Yerns asked.

“You won’t be reprimanded if they die once we have a
confession,” Dentin clarified.

All four men avoided glancing at me. Though from the
awkward shifts in their gaze, I knew they understood the
significance of the clarification.

“Ready to move out?” Dentin asked.

Everyone double-checked their weapons. Once Dentin
received acknowledgement from each man, he signaled for us to fall
into formation.

Dentin and Rathenridge took point, Tomas and I
claimed second position, Eirianware and Polaner fell into third,
while Worand and Yerns brought up the tail. Hoods up and heads
down, we plowed through muddied fields.

The rain remained gentle until we approached the city
walls. Out of the darkness a wave of pouring rain washed over us
with a roar. The seething cold cut through the oilskin. I halted,
my heart pounding frantically and my lungs straining for air.
Eirianware plowed into me, driving me into Tomas, who caught
me.

“Sorry,” I whispered as I scrambled to find my
balance.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.” He squeezed my upper arms gently as he set me
on my feet again.

We tramped to the wall. Dentin turned sharply to the
left, away from the gate, and picked up the pace. The rest of us
fell into a single file. Tomas walked behind me. I focused on
trotting to keep up with Rathenridge’s rain-glossy figure. Not
sliding down the slick grassy mound while climbing it took more
skill than I suspected.

About the time I wondered if Dentin truly knew where
the opening was, Rathenridge stopped abruptly. I managed to follow
suit. Tomas steadied himself on my shoulders when those behind him
didn’t stop in time. After a few moments of almost silent
scuffling, and a muttered oath or two, they sorted themselves
out.

A crack of pale gray light appeared in the blackness
of the wall. Dentin and the man beyond exchanged murmured words.
Then the crack widened to become a door and we filed through into
the town.

“Horacian?” Tomas’ whispered exclamation brought my
attention to our contact’s face. It was him. Armed, soaked, and
looking more worn, he bowed elegantly despite his bedraggled
appearance.

“I seemed the obvious choice. Besides, I wanted to
plead on my daughter’s behalf when the time comes.”

“I am not sure what you will be able to say to stay
her punishment.” Rathenridge shook his cloak slightly so it fell
correctly. “She has acted against her liege lord’s better interests
and colluded with enemies of the crown.”

“Back to the issue at hand.” Dentin broke in before
Horacian could answer. “Which way is the vargar entrance?”

“This way, my lords.” Horacian pulled his hood over
his helmet and strode off into the dark and rain soaked streets. We
fell into pursuit, dodging heaps of muck and plowing through
puddles of slush that soaked through my boot seams and into my
socks beneath. By the time we reached the outer bailey wall, I
could no longer feel my toes and the sock beneath my foot was a
solid lump of compressed ice. The temperature continued to drop,
converting the rain to sleet.

Horacian led us straight to a postern door. Hidden
behind a rough-edged buttress, it blended in with the wall of the
tower above it and was only visible from one direction. We had to
squeeze past a strategically placed copse of bushes and stunted
trees to get to it.

“Who else knows of this door?” Dentin asked as
Horacian fumbled with the key.

“The late Lord Irvaine showed it to me when I took on
the duties of steward. He impressed upon me that no one else knew
of its existence.”

Rathenridge groaned. “Rolendis could have known.”

“And told Jorndar.” Tomas’ gloved hand closed around
my shoulder. He leaned down, nudging the hood aside so his breath
traced eddies of warmth across my cold cheek. “Enter behind
me.”

I nodded.

The door finally jerked open with a groan that echoed
somewhere beyond. Horacian struggled to pull the key from the lock
as Dentin and Rathenridge pushed past him into the dark gap inside.
Reappearing, Rathenridge waved the rest of us past him.

Beyond the door was a space barely wide enough for
two men to stand abreast and four to stand together. To the right a
stone stair rose twisting and steep, crowding out the ceiling.
Tomas, sword already drawn, took the stairs at a sideways run with
the confidence of a man with experience in tight and curving
spaces.

I didn’t even attempt his speed. My lungs burned.
Panic rose. What if I stumbled? Eirianware and the others breathed
heavily in the darkness behind me. I could not turn back. As though
underscoring the finality of our course, the door below closed with
a solid thump.

After an eternity of steps too narrow for my full
foot, a shout from above sent my heart into my throat. I scrambled.
Thomas needed help. I was in the way.

The top of the stairwell opened up into the center of
a bastion. I tripped over the last stair and rolled out across the
wooden floor. Crawling to the wall I climbed to my feet, dragged
out my sword, and looked for the fight.

Eirianware engaged a swordsman. Beyond the open
arches, I glimpsed Dentin and Tomas fighting two others on the wall
walks. Distantly, a third man, ran madly through the rain. Yells
from below turned my stomach cold.

“So much for surprise.” Dentin stepped back into the
shelter of the bastion as he wiped his sword with a piece of his
dead opponent’s shirt. “There were more than ten men running across
the bailey toward the keep.”

“You aren’t going to faint on us, my lady, are you?”
Worand’s heavy-lidded eyes watched my face.

Mouth dry, I shook my head.

“Good, because there is going to be a lot more of
that before the night is through.”

I nodded again, not trusting my voice.

Spotting Tomas, my gaze shied away from his weapon.
Instead I sought his face. He grimaced, but only in
concentration.

“I suggest we split up. We can cover more ground that
way.” Dentin consulted Tomas. “Any idea where they would hole up
once alerted?”

“Jorndar will run. He isn’t one to stick around if he
is losing. Horacian, best routes of escape?”

“Three. A hidden passage from the noble’s bedchamber
to a tunnel beneath the walls, the postern we just used, and the
main gate.”

“There was a tunnel?” Rathenridge’s face tightened in
anger. “Why didn’t you mention this sooner?”

“Later.” Dentin’s sharp retort silenced even the
murmuring between Yerns and Polaner behind me.

Horacian squirmed beneath Dentin’s glare. “The access
in the woods to the west is locked by a key only Kolbent carried. I
couldn’t get you in that way. Jorndar can only get out that way if
my daughter has the key and gave it to him.”

“Fine. So the chances are even he will try any of the
three exits. How certain are you that those are the only
exits?”

“They are the only three Kolbent told me about when I
attained my position.”

“Where is the tunnel entrance?”

Horacian glanced at Tomas as though asking
permission.

“Just tell him.”

“The second tapestry to the left of the fireplace
covers the door.”

Dentin accepted this with a sharp nod. “Eirianware,
Polaner, and Worand take the front gate. Rathenridge, Horacian, and
Yerns stay here. Tomas and Rell with me.”

It took me a split second to remember I was Rell.

He started trotting along the wall walk toward the
keep. I followed. An arrow whistled past my head. I dropped behind
the nearest turret, fear cutting into my air supply.

“Rell!”

Tomas crouched one turret to my right. Once he gained
my attention, he signaled to stay down. “Tell Dentin to draw
attention.”

Dentin squatted three turrets away to the left, too
far to yell without giving away the message. I shook my head at
Tomas.

Tomas signaled to someone on his right. When he
turned back to me, he grimaced. “We have to draw fire so Yerns can
disarm the archer.”

I nodded.

“I am coming your way.”

I waved him back. “No. There isn’t room.”

“I am not about to let you do it.”

He wasn’t in a position to stop me. I pulled my cloak
from my shoulders. Half-frozen sleet sluiced through my layers.
Gasping, I clamped my teeth together against the instant shaking.
Working within the confines of my cover, I propped the hood on the
tip of the sword. Bracing against the slick stone at my back, I
lifted my makeshift decoy with shaking arms. Once it creasted the
turret’s edge, I pulled it down again. The archer didn’t
respond.

The crack of wood on stone reverberated through the
air. I glanced past Dentin in time to see three swordsmen jostle
from the tower door.

Dentin squatted, obviously readying for a fight
despite being pinned behind a stone half his height.

“Don’t be a fool!” Tomas hollered.

“He doesn’t have a choice.” I yelled in response.

Dentin ignored us. The first of the three neared
him.

I moved the oilskin so it looked like I was peeking
out the side toward Dentin. An arrow glanced off the stone,
startling my breath from my lungs. I clenched the rain-slick hilt,
flexing my cramping fingers. I had to do this. Dentin wouldn’t hold
out long. I took a deep breath.