Betrayal (13 page)

Nisero felt the urge to run down and break up the fight, which would normally be his duty. He took a couple deep breaths and tried to remind himself that there was nothing for him to do. He had no grain the fill the bellies of the attacking men nor their children. He had no authority to protect the merchants from the rioting crowd.

The lieutenant thought about Arianne’s question and finally said, “We are going to see if the King wants to throw us a feast.”

“Just slide through,” Nisero hissed.

Berengar dragged the shovel, pulling out more dirt from the space under the wall. “Just a little more. I don’t want to be caught trying to get back under if we have to leave in a hurry.”

Nisero turned his eyes back toward the city beyond the parade grounds. Even in the darkness, he could see bits of trash marking the grass across the open space. It was tenuous enough crossing the broad, open ground the first time. If they came back through on the run with soldiers on their trail, he was not sure a little extra space under the garden wall was going to make all that much difference.

Nisero thought back to not that many days ago when he stood shoulder to shoulder with the men now hunting him. The late prince was honored that day on these very grounds.

“We almost assuredly will be on the run whether we get back this far or not,” Nisero predicted.

Berengar set the shovel aside and pushed the rest of their gear through the opening under the wall. “Okay, come on.”

As the captain clamored under, Nisero looked up at the spikes atop the wall and wondered why the builders had not dug the garden wall deeper. The lieutenant followed. The interior surface of the wall was lined with ivy and the grasses were thicker.

Berengar waved forward and they both ran into the ornate hedges along the wall of the palace. Nisero looked out in both directions, but saw no men patrolling or standing at the outlook positions.

“Let’s climb,” Berengar said.

He fed the grappling hook and rope out before swinging it around in a circle to gather momentum. Then, the captain threw it above a decorative protrusion on the wall. The rope looped over and the hook scraped the stone as it pulled up the other side.

Nisero hissed through his teeth and looked around furtively for anyone that might be investigating the horrid noise. The hook caught the edge and Berengar leaned back on the rope to test its hold. He nodded and put his boots against the wall, using the rope to walk and climb up to the top of the overhang. Berengar shook the rope and nodded down at Nisero. Nisero grabbed hold and climbed up. Berengar took the younger man by the shoulders and helped to pull him up to his knees the last couple feet.

Berengar took the hook free of the ledge and wound the rope up with them. As he swung the hook around in a circle and prepared to catch the next ledge, Nisero looked down the short distance to the ground compared to the vast expanse leading up the wall.

The captain threw the hook letting the rope feed through his gloves. The hook pinged off the head of a decorative lion without hooking on. It fell away loose and he locked his hands around the rope to avoid losing the entire bundle. The hook swung like a pendulum down below them as Berengar wound it back up around his arm.

He swung the hook around in a circle again and let fly. It looped over the lion’s head and the prongs of the hook caught on the detailed engravings of the stone lion’s mane. Nisero did not like the look of the hold, but Berengar leaned back on it and the hook did not slip.

He handed the end of the rope off to Nisero who wrapped it around his waist and leaned back. If Berengar fell loose with the hook, Nisero would do his best to keep the captain from tumbling all the way down the wall. Berengar scaled the wall diagonally between the hook on the lion and the anchor of Nisero’s weight. The captain straddled the lion’s head and shoulders holding the rope with his weight. Nisero nodded and swung out on the rope along the wall. He climbed straight up and scrambled up onto the lion.

Berengar stood and made a throw. The hook missed and he staggered, but Nisero grabbed his legs and steadied him. Berengar wound back up the rope and swung the hook over the next protrusion. They worked their way up the outside of the palace wall one level at a time in this manner.

“Are you sure about that window?” Nisero asked from the broad back of an eagle. There appeared to be the remains of nests from lesser birds around the wide base of the grand, stone monument.

Berengar grunted. “That’s where we want to enter.”

“I would hate to get this far only to crawl into the bedroom of one of our enemies to get caught.”

“I’m sure it is empty. But all the same though, be ready to fight.”

“Always.”

Berengar took three throws to get the hook locked over the open, stone sill. Nisero anchored below as the captain climbed up and over. The wait seemed to be forever as the lieutenant watched upward from his high perch. Berengar finally leaned out and waved him up before bracing the rope for Nisero with both hands. The lieutenant climbed up and shuffled over inside.

As Berengar rolled up the rope, Nisero looked around at the grand bed, mirror, and draperies in the darkness. “Whose room is this?”

“Visiting dignitaries.” Berengar shrugged his broad shoulders. “It is not usually occupied.”

“How do you know this?”

“I was kept here when I was honored by the King the last time.”

“How did you know there would be no visiting dignitaries in it now?”

Berengar shrugged again. “Would you stay with the King after what happened to the prince?”

“Good point.”

Berengar unraveled the longer length of rope from his back and tied the end around the base of a solid column in the center of the room. He walked the rope out to the window and then dropped it on the floor.

“This is our escape. It is long enough to reach the ground and we can rappel quickly.”

“Are we tossing it out?” Nisero inquired.

“Not yet. We don’t want it spotted before we get back.”

Berengar moved toward the door of the bedroom. He twisted the handle down until it popped and then he waited. Hearing nothing, he pushed the door open and leaned out into the empty passage way. He slipped out and waited as Nisero stepped out along the wall. As Captain Berengar eased the door closed, Nisero listened for any sound of activity in the palace. Air gave a low whistle as it crossed the passage from one open window to another on the high floor, but he heard nothing else.

Berengar turned from the closed door and nodded. Nisero nodded back not entirely sure what they were agreeing to between them.

The captain led them through the passage deeper into the royal palace of the King. Nisero’s legs felt weak as he considered the full scope of what they were doing. Were they innocent before now, the act of invading the palace, no matter what their intentions, was an act of war. There might be no pardon for it no matter what they were able to prove in the future.

Nisero got a deep sense in his spirit that they were never going to make it back to that bedroom and down the rope again. He wondered what would become of Arianne once they were gone. He didn’t know if she would be able to make it back out of the city or what her husband would do, if she did.

They reached the top of stone stairs painted and encrusted along one edge of the wall with jewels. It seemed like an odd choice and the expensive decorations were almost forgotten and sad in the dark corner of the palace. They listened and heard nothing.

Berengar turned and held up a hand as if to question. Nisero shook his head. The entire city seemed to be under neglect. The food was not coming in. What food was there had grown too expensive for commoners to rightly afford, and there seemed to be no military presence even within the grounds of the palace itself.

Nisero began to think about the time they crept through the halls of the neglected castle of Faithcore, beyond the edge of the kingdom where bandits ruled. It hurt his heart to think of his own beloved kingdom one day sinking to that deep low.

The captain started down the steps with Nisero close behind. As they reached the bottom, voices echoed up from one direction. There was a brief laugh and then more conversation. It was oddly comforting to finally hear some activity even if it meant they might be at higher risk of discovery. The sound was not a party and it did not sound like guards engaged in conversation while on patrol. Nisero could not place their words.

Berengar signaled the opposite way in the passage and they slipped along. They moved again from the light of torches past high, wooden doors into darker passages again.

They descended a set of stairs in a narrow, dark hall until they saw light ahead. There was more quiet conversation and the clinking of pots. Berengar peered around the corner and rolled back smiling. He held up one finger indicating to wait.

After a few moments of peeking around the corner, he held up three fingers, rolled one down to show two, and then one. He made a fist and then waved Nisero forward. Berengar ran across in the light to the darkness in the passage across from the opening. Nisero cautiously followed and looked around as he passed through the light. He saw the kitchen with the cooks turned away, busy elsewhere.

He stepped back into the darkness and followed Captain Berengar up another set of dark steps.

Berengar reached the top and parted the drapes to peer through. After a moment, he parted them wider and showed Nisero the grand hall. There was a throne and tables set as if for a feast, but the torch light was low and the seats were all empty. The throne and wide dais too was unoccupied.

“What do you make of it?” Berengar whispered.

Nisero made a non-committal sound. “I have not understood anything going on in this kingdom for quite some time. Is this the throne room?”

“It is,” Berengar said. “I have only been in here once myself, but it is set for a feast. Yet, it is left barren. They are cooking below but nothing is being brought up. Normally there would be wine and mingling, but there is nothing. Even before a feast was set to begin, there would be more activity than this.”

Berengar pushed the drape aside and stepped into the empty throne room. Nisero waited a beat and then followed.

“I’m not sure what to do next. We need to see the King.” Berengar frowned.

“Would you have us go up to his bed chambers?”

A voice echoed through the hall. “That will not be necessary, gentlemen.”

Nisero dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword and began to back toward the drape.

The voice continued. “There are archers on the balconies above. Do not move, if you care to go on living.”

The doors around the hall swung open and uniformed guards entered. Torches were struck and the light in the hall flared up. Nisero saw Forseth now walking up through the center of the room. The other handful of Elite Guard that had survived the ambush moved along the walls, as mercenaries in unmarked armor moved into position around the room.

Men Nisero had served with for years marched in around behind him and Berengar. They pushed their backs and walked them up in front of the throne toward the center of the hall to face Captain Forseth.

Nisero glanced up and saw the archers in their dark cloaks, aiming down from balconies that normally held guests during shows or presentations. He imagined this might be the archers from the night of the betrayal that he had not managed to kill before he made his escape.

Nisero looked from the arrows to Forseth squared in front of him. “Are these the same men you hired to murder our brothers?”

“Some of them,” Forseth said with a lazy shrug.

Berengar reached for his sword and took a step forward. Two blades were drawn behind him, the sharp edges rested at the arteries of both sides of his neck. Captain Berengar froze, still glaring at Forseth.

“I did not take your swords,” Forseth said, “because I have no reason to fear them. Move your hand or die, Berengar.”

Captain Berengar lifted his hand away, but the swords remained at his neck. “You looked better suited hung upside down, Forseth. I should have bled you out there in the woods instead of letting you live to disgrace yourself and that uniform further.”

“I won’t make the mistake of letting you two walk out of this room alive. Put them on their knees, please.”

The swords drew back from Berengar’s neck and the Elite Guardsmen standing behind Nisero and Berengar stomped against the backs of their knees, driving them down hard.

“Much better. You will have a shorter distance to fall when you are both cut down.”

“Why are you doing this?” Nisero asked angrily.

Captain Forseth groaned. “Why do we do anything that we have ever done? We were ordered to do it by those above us. If the King ordered you to cut down members of his force that he considered a problem, would you refuse him? What sort of servant to the King would you be, if you did not kill who he said to kill? What is the Elite Guard except the hand of the King bearing a blade?”

“The King ordered you to kill his Guard and the prince of the east?” Berengar said in disbelief. “This is what you are confessing now?”

Forseth held out his hands to the hall occupied by mercenaries and the Elite Guard survivors. “How would I be in the throne room delivering the sentence of death upon you, if not by the will of the ruling King?”

“I see no king or nobles of any rank. You may be here like us, merely forcing your way in.”

“Nobles try not to attend blood baths. They come along after men like me have finished the work and the cleanup is completed.”

Berengar spat on the floor. “You are a dog that licks blood and filth off the dirt before being kicked aside.”