Besieged Page 2

  Their meager arms might stop the first wave of guards—if it was a small contingent. But unless The Masters intervened, this would be the end of their journey.

  They were cornered.

  Kyam sat down beside Cierra. She turned to rest her face against his chest. He wrapped her in both arms. “Tem’s messenger was sent to warn you, Watcher.”

  Lyn shook her head, “Never reached me.”

  Cierra swallowed hard... “Did I know the messenger?”

  Kyam stroked her hair. “Ishen. One of the four who searched for Toby with you.”

  Even though she squeezed her eyelids together, a tear leaked through. “He had a baby boy. Dreamed of the day when he could teach him to fish.”

  “Fighting against evil brings pain. But to surrender without battle brings even more. Perhaps by Ishen’s sacrifice, he saved someone else’s child.”

  “More than a little trouble and no reward except death,” she muttered.

  “Umm?”

  “Remember you said that you were confident that there would be small difficulties and great rewards for escorting me home?”

  “Trouble is always measured against the good to be won. Compared to the benefits this trouble is minor.”

  She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “Death is hardly minor.”

  “Death comes to everyone.” He shrugged. “Better death today with purpose than death three decades hence because I choked on a chicken bone.”

  “You do not regret your choices?”

  “We Elpans prize mountains.”

  “Kyam, in case you haven’t noticed, Risler sits on a plain.”

  “Mountains provide challenges, a way to test our strength and courage. They give us purpose and save us from complacency.”

  “Ah, and your intended’s stubborn temper—is that a mountain?”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Only a small foothill.”

  “This yearning for mountains—is that why first-born sons must prove themselves before assuming their father’s place?”

  “It is.”

  “You would have made a magnificent king, Kyam.”

  “Thank you. And you an incredible queen.”

  She jerked then slowly settled back. “I’m not royalty.”

  “As my wife, you will be royalty. It matters not what you think you are.”

  Perhaps, but if she were royalty, it was only a conferred rank, not a heart-deep, blood-strong essence of her being—not like Kyam’s.

  ✽✽✽

  Lyn and Lusan sat on a tattered cushion, speaking in whispers of memories both good and bad. The girl’s body shook as she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. Lyn cradled her daughter, stroking her hair. Castoff lay at the door, nose pressed to the bottom slit. When he sounded the warning, Kyam, Cierra and Lyn would grab their weapons to face the guards, while Lusan was to crawl through a constructed maze of draped discards.

  Unless the searchers were tenacious and Lusan’s capture highly prized, she might avoid their grasp. Cierra and Kyam had already instructed her in the ways of the key, portals and rafts of the secret river. She was to go to Bennong and seek refuge, passing along what they had learned to Watcher Kev. The future of Capular would then rest in his hands.

  Kyam had wanted Cierra to hide as well. But she refused; it was she they most wanted. Lusan had a better chance of escape if they caught the one with a price on her head.

  Hours of evasive running and desperate planning combined with a hot chamber made them drowsy. As Cierra eased into slumber, a picture formed in her heart.

  A long string meandered in loops and curves across a table. A large azure bead appeared. The string lifted its end like a lazy snake surveying its world. The bead threaded itself and slid to the ‘tail’ of the string.

  Next a large brown nut appeared. Again the string lifted and the nut nestled next to the blue bead.

  No sooner was the nut in place than a gold nugget appeared. It found its place next to the nut.

  Now a round green bead came. It, too, was added to the string.

  Two beads arrived together: a square cut glass one with etchings, and a cat’s eye of oval golden amber. They were followed in quick succession by three more: a tear-drop of onyx, a blood red stone, and a sliver of silver with a hook at one end.

  There was still room on the string and the cascade of beads continued. Another silver one, but different in shape, came next. This one glistened as if wet. Right behind it was a smoky gray with red feathering.

  Finally a bead of dull earth tones joined the string.

  No more beads appeared.

  But the string was not full.

  She looked carefully at the strange, lopsided necklace. Each bead, unique in both size and shade, added to the pattern without duplicating it. And each was necessary to complete the string.

  Her mind flitted over all the places they had been. In each city they had learned important things—valuable beads. Her string was growing long. This is what Kyam had suggested was the reason for their seemingly meandering path across Capular. They had been collecting information.

  She examined the string again. There was still room for one large or two smaller beads. Her journey was not over. There were more beads to find.

  That meant discovering a way out. She had no idea what it might be. If The Masters showed them a way—something they had overlooked—then they would follow. For now she was sleepy.

  “They are leaving the city like whipped dogs.” The voice rang in her head. She didn’t want to think about it. She needed sleep. “Leave city...whipped.” The voice prodded her, pulling her back from rest. Who had said it? Why did they leave? Exhaustion weighed on her. Her mind traveled in endless circles like a dog before it lies down.

  She groaned and thumped Kyam’s chest.

  “What?” He asked around a yawn.

  “Why did they leave like whipped dogs?”

  “Who?”

  “Somebody.”

  “That definitely narrows it down.”

  “Somebody said, ‘They are leaving the city like whipped dogs.’ Who? Why?”

  “Hmm. I remember hearing, but…cave…His Eminence.”

  They sat up, wide awake, looked at each other and said, “The bells!”

  Cierra turned to Lyn. “How far to the nearest temple?”

  “Can it be reached by way of roof tops?” Kyam pawed through rags and blankets heaped in one corner.

  Lyn shook her head. “The closest is the largest, five streets north and two west. There is no way to traverse the distance without using the streets.”

  “What do you seek in the temple?” Lusan pushed aside a strand of hair painting a wide swath of dirt on her cheek.

  “The bells, properly rung, are a powerful weapon against our enemies.” Cierra upended a large basket of haphazard items. “Is there no rope in this collection of castaways?”

  “Confusion and discouragement overtake His Eminence’s henchmen.” Kyam began ripping the largest of the blankets into strips.

  “If it is bells you seek, there is no need to travel to the temple.” Lyn spun in a circle. “Now just which corner of the citadel are we in?” She paced toward a brick wall. “Yes, I’m just about certain that...” She moved to the tiny window and looked out. “There,” Lyn pointed to the wall, “just beyond is a bell tower.”

  “But of what value is it, when we can’t reach it?” Cierra measured the opening with her hands. “Can that window be enlarged?”

  “Even ripping out the wood surrounding it will not make it big enough.” Kyam eyed a haphazard pile of chests and broken slats. “We cannot retrace our steps else we walk into the arms of sentries.” He looked up and down. “Our only avenues are either through the roof or the floor.”

  Cierra tilted her head back to examine the ceiling. “Which will take more time?”

  “Is the tower higher or lower than this room?” Kyam waited while Lyn thought.

  “Higher.”


  “And the design of the tower?”

  “Stone walls, rooms large enough to hold ten comfortably.”

  “The windows?”

  “Narrow slits at the ground floor, gradually increasing to become large enough to accommodate a horse at the ringers’ floor.”

  He nodded. “Then we will open up the floor. It should prove easier to dismantle than the roof. And will still allow us to drop down into the tower rather than climb up.”

  Lyn frowned, “So much noise is sure to bring the guards.”

  “We will muffle the noise as much as possible. And, more importantly, petition The Masters for deafness to our pursuers.”

  “We had already accepted death as our end.” Cierra hugged Lusan when she bit back a cry. “By choosing this course, we are doing rather than merely waiting like bleating victims who take no responsibility for their destiny.”

  Kyam selected a pick axe from the assembled tools. He wrapped it in cloth, then wedged it into a crack between floor boards just a farthong from the wall. Cierra crouched ready to help pry it up as soon as her fingers had purchase.

  “Ya-Wyn, You prompted us to take this bold venture, now bless our efforts and confuse our enemies.” Watcher Lyn selected a hoe and waited for an opportunity to use it.

  The board came up with a groan. They froze, listening for guards sounding the alarm. Nothing. Cierra laid the board aside while Lyn pried up one to the left of the opening and Kyam a board on the other side. Already the hole was big enough for Lusan to slip through.

  Kyam knelt to peer into the room below. “Empty. It has a window on the wall facing the tower.” He reserved four large sturdy blankets. “Quickly now, drop the rest through the floor.”

  They hurriedly grabbed armfuls and pushed them through the opening.

  From one of the four he fashioned a sling for the dog. Another he began to tear into strips. Cierra and Lusan grabbed another and, between the two of them, wrestled it into lengths. By the time they had finished theirs, he had the third one done as well.

  Lyn took the strips and began to braid them into a cord. Once it was finished, Kyam lowered Castoff to the room below. As soon as the dog had wriggled free of the sling, he stationed himself at the door. Cierra, Lusan, and Lyn in turn simply grabbed the braided cord and slid down.

  When they were safely down, Kyam untied the cord and tossed a rusted pick axe onto the pile of blankets. He gripped the edge of the floor and allowed his feet to dangle. His drop was a mere scenton and cushioned by the pile of blankets they had taken from the upper room.

  Cierra wiped a spot on the dirty window and looked out. “Yes, there it is, no more than fifteen scentons away.” She craned her head to look up. “So tall.” The walls were made of immense deep gray stone blocks. “It appears immovable.”

  “How is it that a bell tower is so fortuitously, and unusually, placed?” Kyam eased the window open and leaned out for a better look.

  “The bells must make thought impossible in the citadel.” Cierra shook her head. “I’ve never seen a bell tower separate from a temple and in such close proximity to another tall building.”

  “Grandfather said he never heard the voice of Ya-Owni more clearly than when he received the instructions for this tower.” Lyn sorted blankets into piles. “It was only to be used in a time of great peril.”

  Cierra jerked upright. “The Masters knew this day was coming and prepared for it more than one hundred years ago.”

  Kyam grinned. “Puts fresh heart in you to know They have not abandoned us. Nor consider our cause hopeless.”

  Hope. Hope was filling her, giving her energy.

  Lusan stared out the window and chewed her lip. “Can we really make it across without falling? It looks impossible to me. Will we try it after dark falls? Perhaps we overlooked a safe passage through the citadel.” She shivered. “I hate heights.”

  “Remember Nifwig’s commands. They will have guards posted at every exit.” Kyam listened at the door before easing it open. He held up a hand for silence, then shut the door with extreme care. “Guards at the end of the hallway.”

  Cierra hugged Lusan. “I understand your fear and reluctance, but you can trust Kyam’s wisdom in this.”

  “Since waiting for the guards is sure death, this is the safer of the two, for it holds an element of hope. We will make the attempt at first light. I see The Masters’ hand at work. Even the unusual design is in our favor.” He returned to tearing material into strips. “Cierra and Lusan, braid them, please.”

  “Why aren’t the windows all of a size?” Cierra wrestled with a stiff blanket that refused to bend into a braid.

  “A superior defensive design. Where we will be most vulnerable, there is the least access. How sturdy is the front door?” Kiam took a finished length of cord and tied it to the pick axe.

  “Great stone slabs. Grandfather said Ya-Owni’s instructions were most specific.” Lyn’s eyes sparkled.

  “Then everything in that tower is stone,” Kyam smiled. “If there was wood that could be set afire, it would be too easy for Nifwig to order our death by burning.”

  Cierra had never considered such a thing. That was one of the reasons he was such a capable leader: he saw both possibilities and problems that lay ahead. Most importantly, when there was danger, he stood in the forefront.

  They tore every cover and cloth save Castoff’s sling into strips, then braided them into three cords—all the time beseeching Ya-Ray to keep the guards occupied elsewhere. Then they braided the three cords into one.

  It took most of the night to make their preparations: they were ready to begin when a rosy glow appeared in the east. Kyam threw the pick axe, with cord attached, toward the tower window one story down from their location. He tried to catch the window’s ledge. It missed.

  “It would be easier to hit a larger window higher up.” Lusan shivered in the early morning chill.

  “But much more difficult for us to pull ourselves up than to slide down. And more difficult for Kyam to throw the axe.” Cierra clamped down on her urge to say more. After all, she had been every bit as critical, and worse, in their travels. How had he found the patience to deal with her?

  “I have to go across by myself?” Lusan wrung her hands. “I’m not strong enough.”

  “I will carry you across.” Kyam swung the axe again. It missed.

  Twice more he tried and failed. But on the fifth attempt the axe wedged itself in the side of the window opening and did not move no matter how hard they pulled on it. “How fortuitous that Capular does not put glass in their bell towers.”

  “It keeps the bell masters in touch with the bells.” Lyn hugged Lusan. “Enclosed and two stories down, the sound would be distorted.”

  Kyam tied off the braided cord. “I will make the first trip alone to make sure it is secure.” He sat half-in and half-out of the citadel window.

  “No. Time is too short. If my daughter is to die I prefer it to be from falling rather than at the hands of the guards.” Lyn motioned Lusan forward and tied her to Kyam’s back.

  While Cierra and Lyn watched with held breath, he began the hand over hand trip to the tower. The cord sagged but did not unravel, nor release its hold.

  “How will he get in the window with Lusan?”

  “See, he stands on the ledge. She must untie herself and step in.”

  “Oh, my child, be careful.”

  “There. Safely in.”

  “What great strength that takes.”

  As soon as he was in the window and signaled that he had tied off that end so that they no longer relied on the axe’s grip, Cierra grabbed the cord. She didn’t have Kyam’s strength, but bell ringing had given her more muscles than most women. She was not going to wait and make him ferry her across as well. For Lyn was too weak to cross on her own and, of course, Castoff was not designed for rope climbing, so Kyam would need to make three complete trips.

  Cierra refused to look down. She didn’t want to see just how far down, down
was. Fortunately the tower window was lower than her starting point: she didn’t have to pull herself upwards. The cold air dried the beads of sweat as they ran down her face. Her muscles trembled and her fingers ached. She kept moving one handhold at a time.

  “Almost there, Kitten.” His voice pulled her towards him. Two more hand over hand ‘steps’ and his strong arms hoisted her inside. “You should not have tried to carry the pack,” he scolded.

  She smiled. “I will not leave all the work for you.”

  “Secure the door, then rest while I go back for Lyn.”

  She and Lusan held hands as they watched him work his way back to the chamber window. “It would be impossible without his strength,” Lusan whispered. “Look at the way his back ripples. Does he have younger brothers?”

  Cierra frowned. She was not sure she wanted another female, even one who couldn’t be more than fourteen, admiring her intended’s sculpted body. He, and that included his splendid muscles, belonged to her.

  “Come, he said to secure the door.”

  They raced down the steps barely maintaining their balance. At the base the massive stone doors rose to an intimidating height. An equally large metal key hung from a peg. It required both of them to turn the rusted key in the lock.

  Cierra eyed the stone slab that served as a barricade meant to stretch across the doors while resting on two stone “arms.” “We will never set that in place without Kyam’s strength.”

  They hurried back to the window. Kyam and Lyn had not yet arrived.

  The sun’s crest had peered over the horizon as Kyam began his second trip across. It was now fully seen. While he had made the first trip with a smooth ‘gait’ that comes with ease, this trip proceeded with jerks and stops. Cierra watched the lines bracketing his mouth grow deeper.

  Lusan and she both stretched as far as they could to help, first pulling Lyn in and then Kyam. She watched him as he ran trembling fingers through his hair. He was exhausted; he could not make another trip.

  She stared at the chamber window. Castoff stared back at her. Her throat tightened. So faithful, so trusting. How could they leave him? But how could she allow Kyam to risk himself?