Chapter 10 #2
The service well wasn’t used, but the stonework still existed.
Ksenia tugged on heavy leather gloves as she prepared for an upward climb.
The Beranek forge was a lifesaver yet again.
Ksenia kissed the rough iron pitons she had fashioned into a sort of snow shoe with a spike on the toe, then fastened it to her boot.
She gave an experimental stab of the piton spike into the crumbling brick mortar of the well, testing half her body weight on it before gaining confidence to lean her full weight into it.
With ice picks in either hand, she hauled herself up the service well.
It was a narrow fit, the back of her rucksack scraping the silty sides of the well, which was comforting; she used it to lean back and occasionally take a rest on her climb. Several stories up, she spotted a small beam of light at the well’s opening.
The ice pick chipped a stone brick, flakes raining down onto her and tumbling into the darkness below. She counted the seconds in her head.
Plink!
Ten. It would be a steep fall if she lost focus now. She squinted her eyes shut, steadying her breath, and continued until the opening was within her grasp.
Ksenia held her breath and gripped her fingers over the well’s lip, hauling herself up—
Thock…thock…thock… Heavy boots striking cobbles with the steady precision of a metronome. There was a faint clink and jostle of chainmail with each step.
The sounds of guards swelled as they turned the corner.
Ksenia sank back into the well, her breath tight in her chest. There was no way she could climb back down without making noise. She prayed to Vornaya that they didn’t practice peering down the well as part of their vigil.
Against the nearest wall, long shadows grew closer.
Shit.
They wouldn’t even need to kill her; throwing her back into the well would solve their issue just fine.
Ksenia cursed herself for her harebrained plan. She gritted her teeth and braced for the inevitable.
At her feet, she spotted the corner of a stone threatening to break off into the depths of the well, and she froze. The well reverberated every little noise, and she couldn’t afford a single breath, let alone a pebble tumbling to its depths.
Sweat pricked the back of her neck.
A guard’s head and shoulders came into view, his stance casual as he leaned against the well. If he looked left, he would see her in plain view.
“Leof! Your shift’s next, isn’t it?” called a distant, gruff voice.
“By my oath!” He pushed off the stone with a grunt and straightened to a salute, marching away.
Her heart hammered in her rib cage and her hands were slick with sweat underneath the gloves. She dared to loosen her breath after another minute passed of relative quiet, then pressed up to peer at her surroundings.
Alcoved walls featuring stone statues of soldiers lined every few feet.
Iron sconces held torches, their flames gleaming against the cold, damp walls.
The floor was worn smooth by countless guard rotations, and its polished dark granite was cracked in the corners.
It was impossible to tell exactly where she was before she heard the rotation beginning again.
Their rhythmic steps ricocheted down the corridor.
Ksenia ducked into the alcove, tucking herself against the back of a nearby statue, and held her breath as they passed.
She could hear the low scrape of metal on rugged leather—a sword bumping within its scabbard and a jostle of keys. Sure, she had nicked a skeleton key off a baker, but this was nothing like that. These were trained guards she planned to steal from.
You could always kill them.
Ksenia jolted and held back her curse. The soldiers stopped.
One sneezed, then they continued their rotation, eager to keep pace with the rest.
She spotted an iron-banded door with a rounded top in one alcove. She carefully unfurled the missive from her tunic. The schematic had blurred, dampened from her sweaty climb and the moist cistern. She turned it back and forth in her hands, trying to make heads or tails of the bled ink.
She only had a couple of minutes before the next group of guards would be upon her. Sweat broke upon her brow as she contemplated which way to turn, and she settled on entering the room in front of her.
She darted to the door to examine the lock and stifled her laugh.
It was crude and cheap, made with cravensteel and iron slag commonly found in the scrap bin. Her jaw ground; any smith worth their salt knew not to combine those two.
She blew against it, revealing fine cracks by the hinge where the alloys refused to bond.
She rested the point of her pick against the hinge and, with measured ease and practice, split it in two.
A devilish smile graced her face. Karsan had nearly eviscerated bondsmiths from Kraal, and here was the product to show for it.
She froze, her pulse ratcheting, hand sweaty on the door handle.
A soft sound. Barely there.
Ksenia turned her head slowly, eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway. Nothing—
There. Another flicker of movement near the stone pillar to her left. Too small and quiet to be a guard. Bigger than a rat. She spotted shy eyes, a fine-boned hand.
“I see you,” she said quietly. “You may as well come out.”
Silence. A long moment passed, then a figure emerged from behind the column.
A tiny girl, scarcely six or seven, with curly yellow hair pulled into a messy braid and curious brown eyes that made Ksenia’s heart ache. She wore a servant’s simple dress, gray and practical, but was otherwise wide-eyed and keen.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the girl said matter-of-factly.
Spunk. She nodded her head in agreement. “Neither are you, I’d bet.”
The girl’s lips twitched. “I live here. You don’t.”
“Fair point.” Ksenia bent down slowly to the girl’s height. “Are you going to tell someone?”
The girl tilted her head, considering. “Are you playing a game?”
“Yes…a finding things game.”
“Who else is playing?” The little girl’s eyes brightened.
“The guards. I’m trying to find something without them catching me.” Ksenia swiveled her head, looking for the soldiers in question. “I’m searching for the royal armory.”
The girl shook her head. “This isn’t the armory. It’s just where they keep extra weapons for the house guard.” She pointed a finger upward. “The good stuff’s upstairs, where the king keeps his special things.”
Ksenia inwardly cursed. “Thank you for telling me…”
“Can I play too? I’m good at hiding! Last week, I stole a whole pie from the cook after telling him there were rats in the pantry.” The girl’s eyes lit up with the possibility of mischief.
Despite everything, Ksenia smiled. “You’re a clever girl. But this is dangerous, you shouldn’t be caught with me.”
“But they’re coming!” she said with a devious grin, and grabbed Ksenia’s hand. “The game is starting!”