Sunset of Lantonne (21 page)

Smiling, Ilarra shrugged. These guards had kept her captive, so sparing them from Raeln was not something she cared overly about. Watching her brother pound them into the floor the way they had hit her was an added perk. Freeing the other man might be a nice gesture as well, but it barely crossed her mind.

Folding his hands in front of his belt in a relaxed posture, Raeln let his eyes drift nearly closed. He was readying himself for the craziness of combat, seeking to calm himself.

The sound of a body being dropped was followed by rushed footfalls and the sliding noise of two swords being drawn. If Raeln even cared, he gave no indication as he remained perfectly still, watching nothing but the floor as the soldiers charged him.

As the first soldier entered the intersection, Raeln grabbed the man’s sword at the crossguard, his hand encompassing the man’s. He twisted hard enough to make the man scream, locking the soldier’s elbow and rendering the arm useless. What looked like a soft smack of Raeln’s free palm to the man’s elbow made him cry out again and drop the sword, which Raeln tossed behind him with a clatter while slamming the soldier face-first into the stone wall.

The second soldier attempted to use the moment Raeln was disarming his fellow to attack, but Raeln caught his wrist mid-swing, stopping the motion of the weapon. They held there briefly, the human straining to break free and Raeln looking entirely at peace with the world as he held the weapon still. Then, Raeln kicked straight out, taking the soldier off his feet.

Gasping and unable to cry out, the soldier slid back up the hall toward the fallen prisoner. The man was barely able to breathe, and each time he tried to stand, his legs gave out. Every few feet, he would wheeze, attempting to shout for help.

Raeln advanced slowly, thumping the skull of the first soldier into the wall again to ensure he stayed down.

From her hiding place, Ilarra watched the two men, wondering if she and Raeln could actually make it out of the keep if the soldiers were heard. Raeln was skilled, but there were limits to anyone’s ability…namely, being outnumbered or shot at with arrows or the magisters’ spells.

The bleeding wildling near the soldier that was trying to flee leapt to his feet without warning, grabbing the human by the head. With a powerful twist, he snapped the man’s neck, letting the soldier flop limply to the ground as he choked weakly.

“Thought I’d have to fight my own way out,” the other wildling said, sniffing and looking toward Ilarra. He sneered when he met her eyes, before starting to go through the dying soldier’s pouches. “If we’re going, I want to be gone fast. They have the gallows already set up for me. Can we get moving or do we need to finish off the elf?”

Motioning for Ilarra to follow, Raeln started down the hall toward the stairs out of the dungeon. The other wolf turned to follow, but Raeln shoved him against the wall and walked past him.

“No room for the stranger. I understand,” the wildling muttered, shaking his head. “Remind me to stay away from your pack. If I did find you folks, I’d want to teach you some damned manners. Keeping her around is a liability if you ask me. Never been one to drag a meal around, but it’s your call.”

Raeln snorted and let Ilarra pass him, then snarled softly at the other wildling, warning him off. The shorter man grinned, showing off sharp teeth of his own, but he seemed entirely amused by the threat.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, big guy,” the stranger said, holding up his hands. “Go. Run away. I’ll be here, trying to find my own way out. Don’t worry about me, whatever you do. Only going to get hung for trying to help out this damned city.”

Giving Ilarra a brief smirk, the wolf sniffed again and set off the other way down the hall, disappearing quickly in the dark.

Raeln never slowed as they reached the steps, practically pushing Ilarra up the circular staircase and onto a less dark and foreboding floor of the keep. He guided her—mostly by giving her a shove in the right direction—toward a small alcove area where mops and brooms had been stacked for use by the serving staff.

Motioning to the back of the stack of brooms, Raeln patted his clothing and pointed at Ilarra.

Having no desire to argue and even less desire to stay in the keep any longer than necessary, Ilarra pulled aside the brooms and found a bundle of cloth hidden far back in the alcove. She opened the wadded cloth, undoing a thin leather strap that held it, and realized it was a simple shirt and skirt, the same style as the servants wore.

Not about to hesitate in any way, Ilarra changed as fast as she could in the corner while Raeln attempted to look like he belonged in the hall. It did not take her long, partially because her old dress was practically falling apart from her time in the dungeon. In little more than a minute, she had herself looking the part of another servant, as she finished tying her hair back with the leather strip.

“Lead on,” she told Raeln, hopping up alongside him to look like she did not need a guide within the keep. The harder part was hiding her limp and shaking legs. She also had to hope that no one could see the dried blood in her hair.

Soon, she had to lower her head to hide her nervousness as a group of servants came up the hall toward them. The three older women and man passed by without a second glance.

“Raeln,” she whispered as they headed down a long hall she recognized as being near the entrance to the keep, “if we live through this, you deserve a holiday in your honor back in the village.”

Raeln smiled and shook his head a little, then grabbed her elbow to guide her down a side hall as soldiers came running up the one they had been in. The soldiers ran on past, responding to some urgent issue that apparently was not a wolf wildling and an elven girl that had slipped out of the dungeons.

That was at least some relief to Ilarra, giving her hope that they might be able to walk right out the doors of the keep without another confrontation. Much as she had enjoyed seeing Raeln beat on the men that had tormented her, she had no desire to risk either of them again.

Circling back to the main hallway, Raeln sped up their pace toward the front doors, where just two guards stood.

Unlike the last time she had come by the main doors, Ilarra could see that a heavy bar blocked the doors from opening. Perhaps they did know about the escape after all.

Raeln did not stop or seem overly concerned by the blocked and barred door, marching confidently right up to the two soldiers.

“Turn right around,” the elven man on the right told Raeln. “Until the king gives the order, no one comes in or out. Magisters’ orders. We kill anyone who tries to leave without permission.”

Ilarra saw Raeln’s left ear flick in frustration, but his face revealed none of that.

“What’s happening?” asked Ilarra, attempting to hide the fact that Raeln could not speak. That might lead to more questions than she was ready to deal with.

“No idea,” the other man at the door replied with a shrug. “Whoever it is, only the kingsguard is allowed above the common floors and no one goes in or out.”

“So we can’t leave at all?” Ilarra inquired, glancing at Raeln. He looked back at her from the corner of his eyes. “There’s no way out? My friend is really not feeling well.”

“Not until…”

Raeln punched the soldier in the throat, making him collapse as he choked and clutched at the exposed section of his neck where armor did not cover. Before the other soldier could react, Raeln kicked him in the leg, knocking him down. A giant-pawed stomp on the second man’s head knocked him out and left a bloody smear where he had managed to bleed out of his helmet’s visor.

“We need to hurry, Raeln. I doubt they intended to leave only two at the main door.”

Nodding, Raeln grabbed the heavy wooden bar that kept the door from opening and grunted as he braced his legs. Muscles shaking, he lifted the bar—likely meant for a group of humans to move, judging by its heft—and let it drop to the floor at his feet. The doors no longer held shut, Raeln gave one door a gentle push, filling the room with sunlight.

Ilarra hobbled past her brother into the main courtyard, blinded immediately by the intense sunshine. It was something she had craved and hoped to see again, but after so long in the dungeon, she could not keep her eyes open without them tearing up. Thankfully, Raeln grabbed her hand and led her out; giving her the time she needed to slowly adjust. The intense cold of the city in early winter was painful, especially on her bare feet, but Ilarra was thankful to be free, no matter what might come of it.

They ran on for some time with Ilarra blinking rapidly, trying to make out more than blurred shapes. It took her until they had nearly left the central city to be sure of what she was seeing. Even then, detail was mostly lost in her tears, but she recognized enough of her surroundings to not be entirely dependent on Raeln. She let him cling to her hand as he hurried down the street, happy for the help so she did not trip over the crowds of people as easily as she would have on her own.

People stared at Ilarra as she stumbled after Raeln, but she did not care. They were escaping, getting away from the people that had yet to give her a real trial before punishing her. She had no further use for Lantonne and would have been happy to see it burn, so the opinions of these people were not much of a concern.

Near the outer edge of the city, they detoured through a market district. In passing, Raeln grabbed a pair of boots from a leatherworker, who he growled at to keep quiet. He handed the boots to Ilarra and turned them back toward the north, while the shopkeeper muttered angrily.

They made good time out of the city and onto the packed snow of the road. From there, Raeln left the main road and led Ilarra around the edge of the outer city and into an area where great penned fields held horses and other livestock.

He led her straight to a specific building that had a large passenger wagon out front, horses already hitched to it. Ilarra could even see an elderly dwarven driver sitting at the head of the wagon. Raeln must have planned the whole escape and had a wagon ready to take them from the city. As always, his efficiency made Ilarra proud. He was everything she was not, which was pretty much the purpose behind their arrangement. In passing, she wondered how he had negotiated the deal without talking, but that was a concern for another time.

Slowing his pace as he neared the wagon, Raeln gave a familiar wave to the driver, who nodded grimly back at him. At their approach, the old dwarven man tossed his snow-covered grey beard over his shoulder and turned in his seat. Leaning out over the edge of the wagon he squinted at Ilarra, then Raeln.

“Got extra passengers,” the man said, his eyes studying Ilarra as though he wanted to ask why she was covering her eyes to see on a relatively dim day but deciding better of the choice. “I assume you can pay what you promised?”

Raeln patted Ilarra’s hand, indicating that she should remain near the wagon’s door. He reached for his side, where a leather money pouch normally hung. Where it should have been, two straps of leather dangled, having been torn or cut. The bag with all of his money was long gone.

Closing his eyes in shame, Raeln shook his head in dismay, making the face of the driver darken angrily.

“No coin, no bloody ride,” the man said gruffly, turning forward in his seat again. He gave a little flick of the reins, getting the attention of the horses. “Have fun trying to leave the city without…”

Another voice cut in from inside the wagon, making the driver trail off.

“They’re with me, old man. I can cover their costs. Kick them if they delay us too much.”

Rolling his eyes, the wagon driver waived Ilarra and Raeln toward the door into the wagon’s cabin.

Raeln and Ilarra exchanged confused glances, and she thought over the few paltry spells she might be able to manage without rest. None were particularly likely to help if someone was going to try to arrest them. Without more training, Ilarra’s skills were situationally useful, whereas Raeln tended to be able to adapt to nearly any possible problem. As such, any fighting would fall to him.

Making it look as though he had no concerns, Raeln opened the door to the wagon and bowed to Ilarra, giving anyone watching the impression that he was her servant regardless of their attire. The simple action allowed him to look into the wagon without the driver being able to see his face, while Ilarra pulled herself in.