Haladras (31 page)

“The castle’s sewer drains converge with the city’s very
near here, beneath the city streets.”

“And the drain pipes are large enough for us to enter?”
asked Rasbus, his voice hinting at his incredulity. “They, at least, must have
iron grating to prevent what you’re proposing.”

“They are too narrow—far too narrow. But they are merely a
ruse, as distraction. The river I speak of, it too feeds into the sewer.
Though, its outlet is well concealed. The original constructors put it there as
an escape route should the royal family ever need to flee the castle
undetected. That was over a century ago. But its purpose will serve us.”

“That is,” added Rasbus, “assuming no one has blocked it off
in the last fourteen years.”

Krom looked at Rasbus with steady determination.

“We either enter the castle this way, or fail in our quest
altogether. No other way exists.”

They waited until after midnight to put Krom’s plan into
action. The night air was crisp as the companions slipped quietly through the
darkness. The streets, now vacant, felt eerily calm, as if something menacing
waited around every corner. Yet, Skylar felt no fear. The steady sound of
Rasbus’ inexorable plod at his rear and the long powerful strides of Krom
leading the way gave him a sense of invincibility not even a thousand soldiers
could give him. He felt their loyalty, as he had felt Grim’s and his father’s.

After a few turns, Krom halted in an alleyway.

“Endrick, a hand with this,” he said, bending to the street
and putting his hands on the bars of square metal grate. It covered an opening,
a hole, in the street. Endrick hastened over, positioning himself on the other
side of Krom. The two strained against it for only a moment before Rasbus took
charge of the matter.

“I’ll handle this,” he said, shouldering Endrick aside.

Clasping the grate with his massive hands, he pulled
upwards, his neck muscles bulging from the effort. Slowly, the rusty metal
began to creak obstinately, then with one swift movement, the grate came free.
Setting the grate aside, Rasbus motioned for Krom to lead the way.

They descended the hole by means of a grappling hook and
cord—just like the one Lasseter had used when he and Skylar stole into Amrahdel
the night his whole world changed. The recollection of his father sent a fresh
jolt of pain to his gut.
He should be here, too.

An astringent odor from the sewer burned his nostrils and
watered his eyes as he descended into the blackness. Below him, the sound of
splashing water echoed as Krom and Endrick reached the bottom. The sickly green
glow of two phosphorescent torches suddenly illuminated the scene. Skylar
touched down into the water. It came midway up to his calves. For a moment he
just stood there, feeling nauseated by the stench.

“You’ll grow accustomed to the smell,” said Krom, holding up
the torch and peering down the long conduit sewer. “You won’t notice it after a
while.”

“That’s because your sense of smell will be gone by then,”
said Endrick.

“Oof!” ejaculated Rasbus, splashing down next to Skylar and
spraying Skylar’s legs with the filthy water. “Smells worse than a week of
latrine duty.”

As soon as Grüny was down, Krom retrieved the grappling hook
by tugging on the cord using some cryptic pattern, just as Lasseter had done.

“This way,” said Krom, motioning with the torch, before
striking off down the tunnel. The others sloshed behind. They walked for less
than a quarter of an hour before Krom halted. To Skylar, however, it felt much
longer, with the odor, the darkness, the constant sound of water streaming in
from all sides.

They stood at a nondescript portion of the sewer. A few open
pipes protruded from the stone-paved wall next to them, pouring slowly into this
main sewer. Aside from this, nothing else set it apart from any other spot.
Wordlessly, Krom crouched down, put his hand into the water, and searched for
something. A moment later, he unsheathed his sword, thrust it into the water,
the tempered steel scraping against the stone, then began to pry at an unseen
object. At first nothing seemed to happen. Slowly, though, the surface of the
black waters began to churn and morph into a shape, as yet another iron grate
lifted out of the water.

Endrick and Rasbus hastened to take hold of it, moving it
away from the spot.

Krom shed his cloak.

“Below here is the mouth of the drain of the secret river.
Take a deep breath.”

Without another word, Krom took the torch, dove head first
into the water and disappeared. For a second, Skylar stared at the spot,
expecting Krom to resurface and give further instructions. He did not. Endrick
shed his cloak and handed his torch to Skylar.

“I hate the water,” he grumbled, then stepped out over the
same spot and immediately plunged into the water.

Gone.

“You next,” ordered Rasbus to Skylar.

He looked at the old harbor master then back at the spot
that had swallowed Krom and Endrick.

“Hurry, Prince, before Krom’s light is out of view.”

Skylar removed his cloak, but did not let it fall into the
water. He clutched the coarse paqua-hair garment in his hands and remembered
how his father had given it to him. How could he part with is now?

“Hurry, Skylar.”

Ruefully, he held the cloak in his outstretched arm and
slowly forced his fingers to release their grip, let the precious fabric fall
into the foul water. As he did so, and the black water consumed his cloak, he
felt as if another piece of him were swallowed up in blackness, despair.

Everyone, everything I care about...

Then he stepped out to the spot where Krom and Endrick
disappeared, vaguely wondered how long he would have to hold his breath, took a
deep breath, then plunged in feet first.

The water engulfed his body like icy fingers on his skin. A
void of space and light it seemed to be. His lungs sought for air, his eyes
opened. The same green glow illuminated this underwater hole, only more dimly.
He looked down and saw the black shapes of Krom and Endrick swimming downward,
deeper into the hole.

Deeper!

Quickly he turned his body around and began kicking and
clawing at the water with all his strength. He’d never swam before. The thought
briefly entered his mind that he never wanted to again.

Down...down they went. His lungs began to scream for air.
Still, he swam.

How much farther?

Krom’s form vanished from underneath some opening he
couldn’t see, most of the light vanishing with it. Following just behind Krom,
Endrick’s shape disappeared from view. Skylar swam on, still downward. Panic swept
over Skylar. He was alone, underwater, his lungs burning for air. With more
frantic strokes he tried to move faster, keeping his eyes riveted to the spot
where his companions had slipped out of sight.

Reaching the spot, he found a barrel-sized hole gaping
before him. From it, the welcome green glow of Krom’s lantern shown. He kicked
his way passed it and found that it opened up on the other side after a few
feet. And there before him, in the open water were the two dark forms of Krom
and Endrick, swimming upward.

Exerting what strength remained in his weary arms and legs,
he struggled after his companions. Desperate, his lungs burned with pain. He
felt that any moment they might explode.

Up.

With each passing second, the surface seemed to get farther
and farther away.

Up.

He couldn’t go on. His limbs were barely moving, threatening
to give out at any moment. His mind throbbed. An edge of blackness began
filling the rim of his vision.

Just then, the crown of his head broke through the surface
of the water. Air, sweet air. It was pouring into his lungs as he gasped and
choked violently. A few seconds later, two more heads popped up, likewise
choking down air.

“What’re ye trying to do? Drown us?” cried Grüny Sykes, once
recovered.

Krom ignored him. “This is a reservoir. The water is
shallower just ahead.”

He swam away from them, deeper into the cave of black rocks
which now surrounded them.

“At least the stench is gone,” muttered Endrick, as he and
the others followed after Krom.

Within a few meters, they reached an underwater bank on
which they could walk with the water scarcely to their waists. The water ran in
a gentle current. Still, the force of the water challenged their every foot
step and slowed their progress.

An hour or more passed. The landscape of the cave never
varied. Just ragged rock, a mirror of running water, and the steady swoosh of
their legs plowing through it. Soon they came to a place where the cave turned
a sharp corner. Krom slowed his pace and approached it cautiously. Holding up
his torch, he stuck it partially around the corner.

Sharp screeches echoed through the cave. Krom rapidly
retracted the torch, as two bursts of blaster fire shot past where it had been.

“Seems the castle has a new security system,” said Rasbus in
an unsurprised tone.

“Morvath’s doing, no doubt,” replied Krom. “I’m sure they’re
just machines, automatons of some sort.”

“I really hate his little creations,” said Endrick. “They’re
so unnatural.”

“Can we not get past them?” asked Skylar.

“We must,” said Krom placidly. “We have no other recourse.”

“I say we try the whole besieging business,” suggested
Endrick. “It sounds considerably drier.”

“I’ll deal with the blaster machines. You four try to keep
them firing in this direction.”

“Sure. We’ll just stand there in the open and hop around.”

Krom didn’t reply. Already he had slipped under the surface
of the shallow river. The companions watched momentarily as the ripples on the
water disappeared around the corner.

“He didn’t give us much time to come up with a distraction,”
said Rasbus.

“Our swords,” exclaimed Skylar. “We can use our swords.”

Without explaining, he unsheathed his sword, stuck the tip
of it out into the line of fire and waved it up and down rapidly. Instantly,
the blaster fire resumed, whizzing past the blade in a steady stream. A few
blasts struck the polished blade, but they only ricocheted off. Endrick and
Rasbus soon joined in, waving their swords next to Skylar’s. The blasters kept
firing.

“How long do we keep this up?” hollered Endrick above the
din.

“Until they stop, I suppose,” yelled Skylar.

Endrick nodded his head.

“Smart plan.”

The fact was Skylar didn’t know what Krom had in mind. What
if Krom was shot? They wouldn’t know. And if the blast didn’t kill him, he
would drown.
Come on Krom! I don’t want you to die, too.

He was taking too long. Krom couldn’t have possibly held his
breath for so long. Something was wrong—he knew it.

Without warning, the firing ceased, silence fell around
them. None of them stirred. Then a soft whistle echoed through the cave, then
another. Endrick poked his head around the corner.

“What are you whistling like a bird for?” he hollered.

Skylar exhaled in relief. “He’s alive.”

“Of course he’s alive. He’s much harder to get rid of than
that.”

They found Krom waiting for them on a narrow landing on the
side of the tunnel. Above him, still attached to the cave’s ceiling, were the
mangled remains of their two mechanical assailants. The landing led to a
doorless portal, the darkness of which the green torch-light only partially
dispelled, revealing the first steps of a spiral staircase.

“That leads straight up into the castle,” said Krom,
pointing toward the portal. “Once inside, caution and stealth will be our
greatest allies.”

“That and sleeping guards,” added Endrick.

“I’m giving each of you a few of these.”

Krom produced a leather pouch, from which he drew out a
handful of black eyeball-sized spheres. These he distributed among the
companions.

“Sleep bombs,” continued Krom. “Take care you do not drop one
unintentionally. Roll one along the floor near the feet of a guard. He’ll be
asleep within seconds. Use them sparingly.”

So saying, Krom led them up the spiral staircase. Skylar
lost count of the number of steps. Thousands, it seemed. They had to climb the
full height of the hill on which the castle stood.

At last they reached an old wooden door with rusty hinges,
which they found unlocked, and passed through into a cellar as damp and chilly
as the cave below. Wine casks stacked to the ceiling lined one wall, while
barrels for meal and flour, shelves for cheeses and cured meats lined the
other. Silently, they passed through the cellar out into a short hallway. The
hallways led them into a kitchen, where a cook snored at a table with his head
resting on his pudgy forearms, while the last embers of a cook fire glowed
ruddy-orange beside him. They slipped past the slumbering cook out into a
corridor, deeper into the heart of the castle.

THIRTY

S
KYLAR AND ENDRICK
pressed
themselves against the cold stone wall, hiding in the shadows of a flanking
tower along the castle’s inner curtain wall. Two guards paced the parapet they
needed to cross. They were close enough that both guards posed a threat, yet
far enough apart that a single sleep bomb would not suffice.

“I could throw one at the far guard while you throw one at
the other guard,” whispered Skylar.

These two guards were the only obstacle between them and the
east tower, where the first of the five cannons awaited them. Three more were
positioned on the high towers. Krom had delegated himself to disable those.
Rasbus and Grüny had gone to sabotage the main gates. If all went as planned,
they would signal Arturo and Lord Rowvan just before daybreak to mount the attack.

“It’s too risky,” answered Endrick as they watched the two
guards. “If one of us misses, the other guard will be alerted.”

They waited.

Skylar’s heart pounded within his chest. He scarcely
breathed.

The guard nearest them had been walking steadily toward
them, each second drawing closer.

“Another foot or two and the sleep bomb will put us to sleep
with him,” said Endrick. “I think it’s the sword for this fellow.”

“No, wait.”

Suddenly, the guard turned and planted himself facing out
over the battlements toward the city below. About that same time, the second
guard passed within the east tower and then out the other side. A minute later
and he was out of ready earshot. Seizing the chance, Endrick rolled one of the
metal spheres out across the curtain wall. It chinked softly on the stones.

Startled, the guard nearest them jerked around to face the
sound just in time to see the sleep bomb strike his armored boot. He crouched
down and picked it up, and then collapsed across the battlement as the gas
reached his nostrils.

Hastily, Skylar and Endrick dragged the unconscious soldier
into the shadows of the flanking tower, then made for the east tower across the
curtain wall. They gained the east tower without attracting the other guard’s
attention. The guard had continued his patrol along the parapet, never turning
around, still moving steadily away from them.

“What if he turns around and comes back?” said Skylar.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t. Come on.”

Mounting the tower stairs, they swiftly ascended the
spiraling steps all the way to the top. They found the cannon unmanned and
unguarded, and for good reason; there was no visible means of operating it.

“How do they use the accursed contraption?” said Endrick, as
they hunted for some means of disarming the blaster cannon.

“It might be controlled remotely,” said Skylar, his words
echoing his thoughts more than responding to Endrick, “from some control room
within the castle.”

“Good thing, too. This whole business was beginning to seem
too simple. Now, at least, we have a challenge and a good possibility of
getting caught and ground into paqua slop.”

Skylar continued to inspect the cannon.

“There must be something we can do to it.”

“I bet if you beat at that armored sheeting with your sword,
you could make a few scratches. Maybe even a dent or two.”

“There must be something...” Skylar’s voice trailed off. He
admitted to himself that there didn’t seem to be any weak point of the weapon.
Well armored, it bore a barrel, six-sided, with the top and bottom sides longer
than the other four, which projected out through a slit in the tower wall. The
slit was wide enough that the cannon commanded nearly a full one hundred and
eight degree range for firing at frontal-assaulting enemies. By means of two
hydraulic arms, the barrel could also point toward the ground or sky. Every
part was constructed of heavy steel. Impenetrable. Not a wire exposed anywhere.

“If only we had a wrench...” murmured Skylar. “Or had some
way of jamming it.”

Then the idea struck him. “That’s it! We’ll position the
cannon facing toward the sky and away from the battlefield. Then we’ll tie it
up. The hydraulic arms that adjust the barrel’s angle are only powerful when
lifting—applying an outward force. They must rely on the decreased hydraulic
pressure and the weight of the barrel to lower it.”

Endrick looked at him doubtfully.

“So, we tie one end of our cord to the barrel and the other
to...the sleeping guard’s neck?”

“There has to be something we can use.”

The pair searched the walls and low ceiling of the tower. All
they needed was a hook or loop of some kind. They found nothing. On a whim,
Skylar poked his head out of the tower’s window and looked up. A few seconds
later he pulled his head back in with a jerk.

“Do you have one of those grappling hooks like Krom’s?”

“Of course,” replied Endrick, “you never know when one might
need to scale a wall or lower himself into a smelly sewer.”

“Good. I think we can make this work. Here, help me point
the cannon away from where our troops will attack.”

With considerable effort, the pair managed to turn the
cannon so that it pointed just a few degrees shy of entirely facing east. Then
they lifted the heavy barrel so that it pointed skyward.

“Now, hold it there,” instructed Skylar as he let go and
began preparing the cord and grappling hook.

“No problem,” said Endrick between clenched teeth. “Take all
the time you need.”

Nimbly, Skylar shimmied out onto the casement’s ledge,
leaned out with one hand grasping the inner lip of the casement, and began
swinging the grappling hook on the cord in his other. Taking aim, he let the
hook fly and allowed the cord to glide through his palm.

The hook landed with a muffled clank upon the tower roof. It
hit short of its mark and bounced off. A groan from Endrick within told Skylar
to hurry. With his free hand, Skylar reeled in the cord. There was a metal rod
protruding from the roof’s apex. He needed to hit the roof just beyond that
point and then quickly tug the rope so that the hook latched onto the rod.

He swung the hook around again. This time he needed more
power. But his restricted position made it difficult. If only he could stand
up. With a final swing, he heaved the hook into the air, letting his arm
stretch as far as he dared. As he did, he instinctively pushed up with his legs
to add momentum to the throw. Quickly, he checked himself. Too late. His
fingers slipped free of the inner casement. In vain, he reached for cannon’s
barrel. No use. He was falling, with nothing to grab hold of but the loose
cord.

“Skylar!” came the shocked cry from Endrick.

Still gripping the rope with white-knuckled fingers, Skylar
continued to fall backward.

The casement rushed past and was gone. A brief flash of
Endrick’s horror-stricken face, then gone.

Falling.

A fleeting thought of his jetwing entered his mind. That
device which might have saved him was shattered in the battle on Haladras.

He thought of his father.
I failed you.

Suddenly, the cord tightened like a rod and Skylar felt his
palms burn as his hands slid down it before coming to a halt. He looked up. Had
the grappling hook hit its mark? Little time did he have to wonder, for no
sooner had he stopped falling than the rope swung him around the side of the
tower in a wide pendulum motion. He wrapped his legs around the rope and held
on tight.

When it slowed, he laboriously began ascending the rope, his
bloodied hands aching with pain. If he could just climb high enough, he could
shimmy around to the casement and finish the job he had started. He was almost
there when he heard a shout from below that made his heart freeze.

“Intruder! Intruder!”

The voice rang out like a siren in the still night air.
Skylar craned his neck around. The guard—the one they had let escape—was
running toward the tower.

“Come down from there,” he ordered.

Not a chance.

Swiftly, Skylar swung himself around to the tower’s
casement. Two blaster fires struck the stone near his head. Not hesitating, he
scurried into the tower, Endrick helping to pull him in.

“The guard,” gasped Skylar, motioning below. “He’s—”

“I know. Come on.”

Endrick drew out his sword, bolted for the tower door and
charged down the stairs. It was all Skylar could do to keep up with him. Such a
fire he’d never seen in Endrick’s eyes before.

The guard never knew what hit him. No sooner had the guard
reached the bottom of the tower stairs, than Endrick fell upon him with a
single stroke of his sword. The guard fell dead without so much as a moan.
Skylar’s heart cringed. He had no time to grieve, however, for Endrick was
already dashing across the curtain wall toward the castle’s main keep.

They were midway to the spot where they had deposited the
sleeping guard when three guards emerged from the flanking tower, blasters in
hand. Endrick raised his sword and charged ahead, striking down the first
soldier before he could level his blaster. The second fired, but Endrick dodged
and bludgeoned the soldier’s face with the pummel of his sword. Instantly, he
was after the third, who retreated in fear. Endrick leapt upon him like a
panther hunting its prey. He raised his sword above his head to strike.

A shriek of blaster fire suddenly blared past Skylar’s ear,
striking Endrick between the shoulders. The sword fell from Endrick’s hands and
clattered onto the stone walk. Endrick’s body collapsed next to it.

“No!” cried Skylar, scarcely able to comprehend what had
happened.

Whirling around, Skylar’s gaze met a guard standing a few
meter away, his blaster leveled at him. Anger surged within him, then almost
instantly died away.
Endrick.
He turned his back on the guard. Could Endrick
still be alive? Putting his hands on Endrick’s shoulders, he started to turn
him over.

Rough hands seized his arms in that instant and hauled him
to his feet.

“It’s too late for him,” said a pitiless voice.

“No, let go of me!” protested Skylar. “He might still be
alive.”

The guards did not relinquish their iron grasp.

“Take them to the minister,” commanded one of the officers.
“He’ll want to know about this.”

“Even this one?” asked one of the guards, pointing to
Endrick.

“Check his vitals. If there’s still life in him, take him to
the infirmary. He’ll be wanted for questioning.”

Having received their orders, two guards forcibly escorted
Skylar from the wall. He tried to turn and see the guard who was ordered to
check Endrick for signs of life. A glimpse of him was all he caught. Nothing in
the man’s face, however, told him what he longed and trembled with fear to
know.

Morvath looked pleased to see Skylar, extremely pleased.
Like a jealous sibling looks when he finally catches the favorite child committing
a blackmail-worthy offense. He didn’t smile. He merely leered at Skylar with
those pale blue eyes. Eyes filled with triumph.

“You’re quite welcome, Prince Korbyn,” he said amiably.
“Your friends should be arriving shortly, as well.”

Skylar started. Did Morvath know about the others? Had they
been captured, too? He forced himself to relax, to look ignorant. But it was
too late. Morvath’s keen eyes had not missed his flicker of fear.

“Sergeant,” said Morvath with an unmistakable edge in his
voice, “see that you find the young prince’s friends. I trust you’ll find them
attempting to sabotage our cannons and our castle gates.”

Skylar bit his lip. What he wouldn’t give to break Morvath’s
nose with his fist.

“You needn’t look so sour, Prince. There’s still a way out
of all this—”

“Never,” replied Skylar curtly.

“No need to be rude. It’s unbecoming the future adopted heir
of his majesty.”

Skylar did not respond.

“I admit that I did not expect you to be as brazen as this.
Sneaking into the castle, and all. Brave...and foolish. I suspect you have your
pathetic army awaiting a signal of some sort to let it know the castle’s guard
is down. Now, what might that signal be? Your friends use such primitive
methods, running about with their little swords as they do.”

Morvath paused and pondered over his own question for
several moments. Skylar took inconspicuous stock of his surroundings. There
might be an opportunity to escape.

An expansive bedchamber—likely Morvath’s own—was all the
room appeared to be. A four-poster with ivory curtains occupied the far left of
the room. Beside it, a few items of furniture: two high-backed arm chairs, a
sofa, a mahogany wardrobe, and two end tables of the same. All simple and
elegant. The room, like Morvath’s appearance contradicted everything Skylar
knew about this murderous traitor.

Morvath himself sat behind a desk. He wore a leisurely robe.
Two guards stood at attention just inside the double doors through which Skylar
had been escorted into the room. Behind Morvath’s desk, a short platform led to
a steel door flanked by casement windows.

Morvath finally broke off his meditation, stating
confidently that the matter of the signal would be revealed to him presently.
He then proceeded to lure Skylar in with his hypnotic speech. This time, they
achieved no effect on Skylar.

A quarter of an hour later, five guards hauled in Rasbus and
Grüny. Both wore shackles about their wrists and ankles. Rasbus’ face had a
look of pure fury. Skylar briefly wondered how many guards had lost their lives
before they managed to capture this bear of a man. How had they done it without
killing him? Shortly after, two more guards shoved Krom into the room. He was
likewise shackled.

Krom’s face betrayed no emotion. He cast a brief glance at
Skylar. His dark eyes asked the question Skylar feared to answer, “and
Endrick?” In reply, Skylar only bowed his head in shame.