The Warden's Sword Page 8

  Where Anna was, he didn’t know but he guessed that she must be at the prince’s palace. I should’ve asked Renato where that was. The more he thought about his current situation, Renato’s orders and the master, the more he wanted to find Anna—fast.

  Chapter 17

  Anna paced back and forth across the bedroom’s thick carpet. After her meeting with the master and Wolfgang, she had been led back here and the door locked. There were no doubts now that she was a prisoner. Her only escape from the room was to climb down the ivy growing beside the balcony. It didn’t look sturdy and if she fell, the fall would kill her.

  I need to get out of here now!

  Would Mordan find her like he had in Freewater? When? A day, a week, a month? Would she still be alive in a month? The master might have bled her dry by then and used her blood in his magic—blood magic! Being a descendant of the First Born was proving to be a curse. And not for the first time Anna found herself thinking about her quiet life and her stepparents.

  If she was as powerful as the master said, then maybe she could fly out of the palace. It was worth a try. Anna concentrated as she sat on the floor and tried to imagine herself lifting off the ground. Nothing happened.

  “Come on, empty your mind,” she muttered to herself. Again, nothing happened. “NO!” she screamed in anger. Anna dropped her head into her hands. She didn’t cry—she wouldn’t give the master that satisfaction. “I will get out of here,” she proclaimed to the silent room.

  There was a soft knock at the bedroom door and after a brief pause, the door swung open. Anna stood quickly and tried to compose herself as Eula entered carrying a tray of food. Anna smiled, happy to see a friendly face. She approached the young maid but stopped mid-stride as Wolfgang had entered the room behind Eula.

  “Good evening, Anna,” he said, like a hungry predator. “Would you like a late supper? Some cheese? Or a slice of apple pie, perhaps?” He smiled slyly. Even dressed in fine clothes he still looked like a thug.

  “Trying to poison me?” asked Anna.

  “My girl, the master needs you alive. You’re only locked in this room for your own protection. He doesn’t want anything to happen to you…and neither do I.” Wolfgang indicated to Eula to put the tray on the table.

  “I don’t trust you!”

  “Please, calm yourself,” said Wolfgang. “If we wanted to harm you, you would be locked in a dungeon.”

  “You’ve locked me in a cell before.”

  “That was just a misunderstanding. We know your true value now.”

  “I’m just an object to you, aren’t I? If I wasn’t one of these First Born, I would be dead!”

  “Well…lucky for you,” said Wolfgang. “Be thankful we didn’t kill you and that eldon boy for spies when we first met. You can thank Karp for that. He recognised your potential.”

  “I will never help you!”

  “You’re a funny girl,” said Wolfgang, moving closer. “You don’t have a choice.” His voice was cold and threatening. Anna took a step back.

  Wolfgang turned and moved toward the door. “Get out,” he said to Eula, who stood silently beside the table. She obeyed and moved to the door.

  “Please,” Anna pleaded. “Can Eula stay?

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We wouldn’t want you two talking about escaping, would we?” He opened the door and he and Eula left the room but before he closed the door, he poked his head back in and said, “Read a book—it will help you pass the time.”

  Chapter 18

  Finn moved through the dark streets with purpose, keeping his eyes forward and his hand on his sword. Thankfully, no one spoke to him or noticed him passing.

  Paranoid that he was being followed, Finn looked the way he had come. The street was full of city folk going about their business and at this hour, he guessed most were headed home for their dinner—his stomach growled. He had brought no food. Eat first and then find the palace. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.

  He headed back onto the main street and followed it to the central market square. It was a large tiled area that during the day would be filled with merchants trying to sell their goods. At that time, the market was almost deserted except for a few people looking for taverns. There were many inns facing into the square, their lights shone out and beckoned to the eldon to enter. Sounds of singing, cheering and shouting poured out and echoed around the square.

  Finn chose the second inn because of the aroma of roasting meat that wafted out the door as he passed. The sign above the door read ‘The Merchant’s Rest’. He pushed opened the door and stepped inside, leaving the cool evening air behind him.

  The smoky taproom was full of people of all types and sizes laughing and talking loudly. There were a few empty tables as the evening was still early. Finn weaved around the crowded room and headed to the bar. Without looking up from pouring a beer, the barman asked, “What’s it going to be?”

  “Green tea and something hot to eat, please.”

  A group of men cheered, making it hard to hear. The barman stopped his task and looked at Finn. “What? Honey mead?”

  “Yeah. And hot food, please.” The barman gave Finn a wooden mug of amber-coloured liquid and then went through a door to a small kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a bowl of steaming vegetables and meat in a thick broth. Finn paid the barman and looked for a quiet table.

  The young eldon sat down at the end of table beside a group of noisy men. The men were drinking beer and laughing at jokes and slapping each other on the back. Finn found this to be a strange human custom. After some time, he unintentionally caught on to their conversation and listened closer.

  “…they said the prince will finally marry,” said a bald man. “And about time.”

  “I heard she’s a foreigner,” said another.

  “Yeah, a Tarmian princess, no less. A real black-haired beauty, or so they say—”

  “What wedding?” interrupted Finn. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer—he had to know if they spoke about Anna. The men at the table stopped their banter and looked at the eldon.

  “My good woman said a week from today,” said the bald man.

  Finn apologised for interrupting. “I was just curious.”

  The men didn’t seem to mind. “I heard from my barber that she’s a prisoner,” said a long-haired man. “And being tortured by the king’s cousin, Lord Tollis.”

  Finn stood abruptly—knocking over his stool. “Sorry.” He righted his stool and sat down again.

  “Why would the prince allow his future wife to be tortured by…that man?” The table went silent and the men looked around to see if anyone overheard them. “They say he’s a necromaster.”

  “You shouldn’t mention that word. Guard your tongue, Tollis spies could be anywhere.” The men went quiet and took long swigs of their beer.

  Finn couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Where’s Prince Anthon’s palace?”

  The men stared at him. “Why?” asked the bald man.

  “Just curious,” said Finn. “Thought I might do some sightseeing.”

  “You can’t miss it. Just follow the main street south. It’s a big building”

  Sneaking from shadow to shadow, Finn avoided the armed guards patrolling the wealthy district where the prince’s palace was located. He stood beside the tall stone wall and looked around. The street was empty.

  Finn snuck along the perimeter, looking for a tree to help scale the twelve-foot-high wall. It looked like he was out of luck.

  “Your first day as a thief?” whispered a voice from the shadows. Finn’s hand went instantly to his sword hilt and stared into to the night. He couldn’t see the speaker.

  “Who’s there?” he said softly.

  A tall man stepped out of a nearby shadow, his dark hooded cloak concealing his form. “You won’t need that sword, young sir,” the stranger said calmly. For a moment Finn thought it was Mordan but the man was shorter than the
alp.

  “Who are you?” said Finn.

  “A friend,” the stranger said. “If you plan to climb this wall, where’s your rope?”

  “I…”

  The stranger, who Finn was sure was a thief, put his back against the wall and cupped his hands. “I’ll boost you over.” Finn was suspicious. Who was this man? But he had no choice if he wanted to find Anna tonight. He placed a foot on the thief’s hand and the man boosted him up so he could grab the top of the wall.

  Finn dragged himself up and straddled the wall. He turned back to offer a hand to the thief but the man had already jumped up, grabbed the top of the wall and pulled himself up beside Finn. This was not the thief’s first day on the job. Silently they dropped into the shadowy garden below.

  Finn studied at the thief as he moved between some shrubs. The man was a similar height to himself and moved with the natural grace of someone whose profession was stealth.

  The palace was massive, silhouetted against the surrounding street lamps. Several lights shone out into the garden from the three-storied structure even at that late hour. The thief pointed to bushes near the rear of the house and Finn nodded. Half crouching, they made their way swiftly along a garden bed and across the open lawn to the bushes against the building. Finn was nervous and his heart pounded in his chest. His sweat felt cold on his brow.

  “Where to now?” whispered the thief.

  Finn hadn’t thought any further ahead than finding the palace. Anna could be anywhere…

  “I hope your plan was more than just scale the wall.”

  “Well…I-I…”

  “No plan?”

  “All I know is my friend is being held here against her will.”

  “I should’ve known there would be a woman involved.”

  “Where would they hold a prisoner?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe the basement.”

  “How do we get in?”

  “That’s the easy part. Follow me.” The thief moved silently through the garden to a backdoor. He produced a roll of soft leather that contained a few thin metal tools and started working on the door’s lock. In a short time, the lock clicked and putting away his tools, the thief pushed open the door.

  Finn wondered why this man was helping him. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Later,” was all the thief said before he disappeared inside. Finn followed. They had entered a large kitchen. The cooking fire had burnt down and there was little more than glowing coals. It provided little light.

  The thief moved like a shadow across the room and cracked open a door to peer out. Satisfied, he closed the door without a word. Pointing to another door, the thief indicated the entrance to the cellar. Finn opened the door slowly, revealing stairs leading down into the darkness.

  A light appeared behind Finn and he turned to see that the thief had lit a lamp. The thief handed the lamp to Finn and indicated that he should go down into the cellar. With the lamp in one hand and his sword in the other, the eldon carefully descended the stairs.

  A brief search of the cellar revealed there were only crates of food goods and barrels of wine. There was nothing living down there except a few mice. Disappointed, he headed back up the stairs. The kitchen was empty. The thief was gone.

  Where is he?

  Finn turned off the lamp and moved to the internal door, peering into a dark hallway. All was quiet. Sheathing his sword, he slipped through the door. Passing several closed doors, he stopped at the hall’s end as it opened into the building’s entrance foyer. It was a large room with many doors leading in all directions and a wide flight of stairs leading to the second level. He could faintly hear people’s muffled speech coming from further inside the house and decided to check the second floor.

  Finn quickly went up the stairs and paused at the top and listened. Strange, there are no guards. With his heart beating loudly in his chest, he moved along a dark hall. Stopping at the first door, he turned the handle and it opened. Inside was dark but he could hear someone snoring. Not her. He closed the door and moved on.

  Finn became more and more anxious as he opened several more doors. He disliked creeping around someone else’s house and felt like he was going to be caught at any moment. As he reached for yet another door handle, a strong hand gripped his outstretched hand and another covered his mouth.

  “Not that room,” whispered a voice at his ear. It was the thief. Finn nodded and the thief released his grip.

  “She’s not here,” said the thief. He moved fluidly back down the hall and descended the stairs. Finn followed after him. As a hunter, Finn prided himself as a person who could move silently but this thief was so quiet it was uncanny. Even Finn’s eldon ears could not detect any sound that might give the man away.

  The thief crossed the entrance foyer and disappeared down the hall that led to the kitchen. Finn was halfway across the entrance room when a door opposite opened and light spilled out, highlighting Finn. The young eldon was almost as surprised as three red-robed men that stepped into the foyer.

  “Thief!” shouted one of the men. The three men recovered quickly and drew long knives from their belts, then moved toward the eldon. Before Finn could draw his sword, one of the men cried out and grabbed at his throat. Blood coated his hand as he dropped to the floor with a small black knife protruding from his throat.

  “Run!” shouted the thief as he pulled Finn’s arm. Finn stumbled toward the kitchen and the thief moved to block the robed men. From under his cloak, the thief produced a curved sabre—which was hidden before. The two men stopped. Their knives would be no match for a sword. The thief backed down the hall toward Finn, who waited in the kitchen’s doorway.

  “Go, boy! I will catch you!” shouted the thief. Finn obeyed and turned, running through the kitchen and out the back door. He heard shouts and then he was outside, running across the lawn to the garden wall.

  A few small trees grew near the wall and Finn scrambled up the closest one. His hunting bow caught in branches as he climbed and he now regretted not leaving it on the wagon. Freeing the bow, he jumped to the wall and glanced back at the house. Light shone out of more windows now and shouting grew louder. It sounded like the whole building was awake now!

  Come on! Come on! Perched on the wall, Finn waited for the thief. Just as he decided to go back and help his new friend, a black shape ran out of the building toward him. Finn sighed in relief until half a dozen red-robed men exited the house in close pursuit of his new friend.

  Without hesitation, the thief was at the wall and seemed to spring up, grabbing its top with outstretched arms. The thief effortlessly pulled his body up and over the wall and he landed silently on the tiled street.

  “What are you waiting for?” yelled the thief. “Those priests want our blood!” Finn threw his leg over the wall and dropped down beside the cloaked man. Together they ran through lit streets to a poorer sector of Parma where they paused in an alley and listened for any sounds of pursuit. It was quiet.

  Gasping for breath, Finn said, “I almost died in there…thank you for your help.” The young eldon looked at his new hooded friend who was not breathing hard—in fact, he looked calm.

  “I am Finn.” He extended a hand.

  The thief pulled back his hood and even in the dim light Finn could see that he had mistaken this thief for a human, but he was in fact an eldon. He was middle-aged and his black hair was streaked with grey. His lean handsome face was dominated by a long and jagged scar which stretched from an eye to his chin. The eldon thief’s callused hand shook Finn’s and he said softly, “My name is Severus.” Finn was speechless for Severus’s skin was as pale as his. “I’m your father.”

  Chapter 19

  Anna could hear the snip-snip sound of clippers but couldn’t see the gardener. She stood on the balcony and gazed out across the manicured garden. It was a beautiful sight. Flower beds full of colour bordered a lush green lawn that stretched fifty yards to rows of tall dark green hedg
es that formed a maze. She imagined grand parties being held on that lawn, with children running and hiding in the maze. There were no children there now. The garden was deserted except for the rhythm of the gardener’s clippers.

  I should throw myself off this balcony…that’ll stop the master’s plans. She watched a small bird dart in and out of a bush catching bugs. No! I must be strong—I am strong. We need to stop the master permanently. I hope Anthon will help when he hears the truth about his crazy uncle.

  The door to the bedroom opened, startling Anna. Prince Anthon entered the room and as always, he was smiling warmly. He wore a splendid gold-laced suit and looked every part a prince of Krystoria. Leaving the door open, Anthon walked to the centre of the room and bowed slightly. “Milady, I hope you are well this morning.”

  “No. I’m a…” She froze—Wolfgang entered the room and shot her a cold look.

  “I hope you show support for your fiancé at his ceremony today,” said Wolfgang, closing the door. “People expect to see a devote bride-to-be on his arm.”

  “What? I will not wed him or anyone! I will tell the king that I am being held against my will. He’ll free me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Wolfgang and he placed a hand suggestively on the knife at his belt. “Just remember, Anna, Lord Tollis is the king’s cousin and his trusted advisor.”

  Anthon turned to Wolfgang. “I thought you said she was happy to wed.”

  “No, Anthon, I am a prisoner. And your uncle plans to use my blood to summon evil.”

  “Lord Tollis is a good man. You must be mistaken.”

  “No! You don’t know your uncle. Tollis is evil. But I believe that you are a good person. Please, speak to the king. Ask him to stop your crazy uncle. Help me go back home.”