Chapter 30
Shadows were beginning to lengthen in the open field between the forest and the castle when Baron and I arrived.
We were both armed to the teeth, prepared for our minor assault on the castle.
We also each had a long coil of rope looped around our shoulders.
Baron and I secreted ourselves in the branches of a tree, studying the layout of the castle and devising our tactics for that evening.
The castle seemed to be going about its day-to-day business.
The servants were using the small door with a narrow footbridge as opposed to the mighty drawbridge, which was having some routine re-tarring done to protect it from the moat’s moisture.
Bored guards patrolled back and forth, walking along the wide strip of ground between the moat and castle wall, while more guards along the wall walked inside the castle, heads and shoulders just visible as they bobbed along, occasionally disappearing out of sight behind a guard tower then reappearing on the other side.
There was no indication at all that they were anticipating an enemy attack. Maids tossed the contents of chamber pots into the moat below, and servants entered and exited, carrying supplies or hurrying after important-looking persons robed in rich, purple velvet.
Flickering torches were set at intervals along the castle wall’s perimeter.
Baron and I patiently observed the movements of the guards for hours, getting a feel for their timing as they went about their regular rounds, gauging how long each shift was.
Once the torches were burning low and the guards were beginning to yawn on the last hour of their shift, we made our move.
We matched our movements to the rhythm of the trees swaying about in the breeze, blending into the patterns of the foliage leading up to the wall, gliding from one patch of dense shadows to the next.
The weather had worn many places on the wall smooth over the years; climbing would be difficult.
The outer wall had to be nearly twenty feet high.
I nodded to Baron, telling him wordlessly to prepare for our breach.
The narrow servants’ footbridge was still laid across the southern border of the moat, and once the patrolling guard’s back was turned and there was no sentry watching from above, we ran lightly across, crouching in the shadows on the opposite side.
Baron stood in a recess by the base of the wall, hidden from the guard’s sight by a conveniently placed buttress, hands held clasped and ready.
I silently ran toward him, placed one foot into his hands, then propelled myself upward as Baron combined my leap with his immense strength, launching me high into the air.
I flew through the night sky with exhilarating speed and latched on to the edge of the stone battlement, clinging to the side like a large insect.
I swung my leg over and fell down softly to the path running the length of the wall.
I stayed bent double, watching for any sign that I had been spotted. Nothing happened.
I wanted to wait several more minutes to be sure I was well hidden from view, but Baron was still exposed and in the open down below, so I needed to act quickly.
And he would have a harder time hiding than I would.
I pulled the coil of rope from my shoulder and knotted it quickly around the nearest merlon, then tossed the rope down to Baron.
He scaled the wall using the rope for support and dropped to the wall walk beside me.
For such a large man, he moved with more stealth than almost any of the Merry Men.
We hurried to the guard tower at the end of the wall walk.
It was empty, which made me nervous. I could only hope that the speed of our journey here had made it so the sheriff had been unable to alert anyone to the possibility of a jailbreak.
Baron had assured me that he didn’t use carrier pigeons, but I still worried that, somehow, our escape was known to the inhabitants of the castle we were now infiltrating.
We quietly descended the stairs, dodging occasional guards.
Once, we had to squeeze into a tiny area under the stairs together to avoid detection.
Earlier in the day, we’d considered having Baron just walk up and identify himself; no one would know that he had turned until it was too late.
But it had seemed too risky, and I was more familiar with the cloak-and-dagger routine anyway.
There was a particularly tense moment when a guard spotted Baron darting out from behind a pillar and was about to raise the alarm, but I got to the guard first. I leapt onto his back, clamped my hand over his mouth to muffle his shout, pinched off his nostrils, and clenched my arm tightly around his neck.
He tried to throw me off, but I clung to him with all my strength while forcing his head forward over my arm until he passed out.
I then deposited him in a nearby broom cupboard, turning the key that had been left in the door’s lock.
“You seem experienced at this,” Baron told me, amused, as I tossed the broom closet’s key into a nearby clay vase.
I pretended to dust off my shoulders. “Oh, that was nothing.”
We had to cross an immense courtyard with a large, dead oak tree standing in the middle surrounded by stone benches.
I shook my head; I could never understand the appeal of the single tree courtyard landscaping theme so commonly found in castles.
I had seen the same thing when I’d visited King Richard’s castle with my parents when I was a child.
But at least the ones in King Richard’s courtyards had been alive.
This one looked as though it was decaying before our eyes.
Even in the dim light cast by the moon and low torches, it was a pitiful sight.
It took us less than an hour to reach the bottom-most dungeon, where I knew Father and his men would be held.
The keys for the cells would inevitably be in the guard room, where I could hear the low murmuring of voices.
Bright light shone out from under the doorway.
There was no way I would be able to open the door, sneak in, and grab the keys from wherever they were without being seen.
I ran through the possibilities in my mind. I could have Baron pretend to be bringing another prisoner, or try and bribe the guards, or pull my innocent-girl act and pretend to be lost. I had no wine to get the guards drunk like Mother had done. But Baron solved the problem for me.
“I’ve got this,” he whispered, pausing at the corner of the stone hallway and rolling a small vial of powder between his fingers. He pulled a lantern down. “Once I’m in, just wait.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Either something heroic or stupid.” He flashed me the briefest half smile before unscrewing the lantern’s top, sprinkling the fine powder into the oil basin, and shaking it just enough to settle the mixture. “If you see any smoke, don’t inhale any of it.”
I slipped into the shadow of a wall tapestry as Baron straightened, rolled his shoulders, and adopted the slow, confident swagger that belonged to the sheriff’s soldiers.
Then he pushed the guardroom door open with his boot. “Oh, good,” Baron said before the door closed. “You four are sitting around warm and cozy while the rest of us are out chasing half-feral prisoners through the woods. Typical.”
The door closed with a thud. I couldn’t hear what the murmur of voices were saying, but their tones all sounded casual and friendly, even if a little tired.
Minutes crawled by. There was occasional laughter and the sound of a dice game, but nothing more. How long was I supposed to wait? Every gust of air down the hallway made me think a new change of guards was coming and would discover us.
After what felt like at least twenty minutes, there was a yelp and a crash from within the room. Within seconds, a thick plume of dense, grayish smoke began to filter out from under the door.
I retreated, trying not to breathe it as Baron had said, and waited anxiously. Had Baron breathed it in?
A few thuds came from behind the door and Baron came running out, sprinting down the hall until he reached clear air and dragged in a ragged breath.
“I have the keys,” he gasped, handing them over. “You didn’t inhale the smoke, did you?”
“No. Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I told you. Heroic and stupid.”
“And effective,” I added, eyeing the fresh ring of keys dangling from his hand, then cast a nervous look at the guardroom. “They aren’t dead, are they?”
“No, just unconscious. But come on. We need to get going before the next shift of guards gets here.”