“Perhaps, but all the better for you, if you do get stopped by soldiers—”
“We won’t. That’s precisely the point.” Lyria quickly glanced around and began to herd people out of the way. “We’re leaving.”
It slowly registered in my reluctant mind that we’d go alone through the blockades down at the entrances, through the throngs in the yard, through whatever clashes and fights were already taking place down there…and ultimately, through the lands and past the Gorge, and then all the way to Galandea. Just how, exactly? Her and me?
I was a decent swords-master, and even more importantly than that, I was a spellcaster. Agreed, she had reasons for picking me from this crowd. But we were two young women. Had anyone ever heard of two young women winning against an army of trained soldiers? I had not.
My thoughts were interrupted, as Lyria’s gentle hand grabbed mine to pull me along, and she whispered, in a confiding voice as if we were spies going against the world, “Come.”
“Wait,” Andre said. “Your death would be on my honor, I can’t let that happen.”
Lyria stopped to give Andre a long, still stare. Then she carefully reached for the key in Andre’s hand, so it loosened from his fingers, and Andre didn’t stop her. Lyria drew a long breath and cupped the key in her fist.
“It’s only men of this world, Andre, not monsters…They won’t kill us, they’ll just capture us. It’s King Taramon of Rogaelle, after all. These are just humans, Andre, not fae.”
“Not fae,” Andre repeated.
He was a professional soldier with over a decade of experience from battle fields, the head of the king’s guard — now the head of Lyria’s royal guard, as Lyria was queen. I could only guess at what went on in his mind as he tried to calculate whether to listen to Lyria’s command and let us walk into that yard.
“Fine, fine,” Lyria said. “I’ll take one guard. Give me your best archer. Send him to catch up with us. But it seems like fighting wars makes you see all men as monsters, Andre, and most men are not…You should speak with the fae, sometimes, and my god, you’d know the difference.”
Lyria could talk. She was the only living person with Fae Eyes. She’d spent all her summers since six years old in the dark caverns of the Fae Kingdom under the desert, where ordinary humans couldn’t even breathe.
Lyria turned, throwing her cascading hair to the back, and made that decision for all of us as she walked through the door, and I followed.
Chapter 2
As we stood by the balcony that gave to the gorge defining the castle premises in the north and north-east I told myself over and over to calm down, as Lyria fumbled with the rope. She had pulled it out from under the bench, by the side of the wall, and she didn’t need to explain it to me; obviously we were going to lower ourselves to the gorge and flee from this side of the castle. It was rough terrain, no paths, nothing welcoming there. Only rocky lands, crags, thorny plants, and for what I knew, lizards, snakes, and spiders…It made sense we’d sneak out through here but surely Taramon expected we would. I couldn’t see anyone moving down there yet, though.
Someone crashed through the balcony door, slamming it open against the wall, and I jumped back and drawing my short sword, heart suddenly in my throat. My next thought was, his tunic and pants are a red I know, and his armor familiar…and only then my slow mind put things together and I got that this man was one of ours. He wasn’t from the castle guard, which was why it had taken me a moment, but from the hired mercenaries of the army. They were tough career-soldiers, and most looked just like this man, wired, muscular, and with tired, worn, scarred faces.
“Your Highness.” His voice was loud and harsh. “By the honor of Andre Lartencourt, I’ll accompany you. I’ll warn you, if you don’t agree to that, I’ll stop you.”
Lyria listened with a frown, until the mercenary’s last words made her brighten up to a sharp, brief laugh.
“I’m sorry? You’ll stop us how? My dear man, that’s so amusing…but listen. Are you the decent archer Andre was supposed to send? We’ll take you with, but only until a suitable distance, where we’re safe, and where Andre won’t be breathing in our necks, all right? You’ll see that we are fine, Andre is happy, and everyone wins.”
“Quick thinking,” I put in, but immediately regretted it, wondering if it was okay to speak to her like that. She’d always been kind and even asked me personal questions sometimes, but I was still just one chambermaid among many.
She turned to give me a smile that surprised me, reassuring and full of the same camaraderie as when she had grabbed my hand, leaving. So far, she had been dragging me along like a pet, I’d thought, hardly taking notice of what I did, simply assuming that I’d follow, but apparently that might have been only because of the hurry we were in. She had seemed absent-minded and inconsiderate, but she was the queen, and we might have minutes to get down this wall before the men of King Taramon came round the corner.
“Right…I’ll follow you,” the man said hesitantly, as if he couldn’t think through all the possible ramifications and consequences quite so fast, but couldn’t defy the queen so blatantly, either. Against his hardened looks and steel eyes, the words made him suddenly seem less intimidating to me.
I was glad, when Lyria stepped over the rope and kicked it away from her feet out of the way. Then her slim arms tightened and she jumped over the rail. She ended up hanging on the other side, feet secured against the stones of the wall, sitting back against the hold of the rope.
“Can you do this?” she asked me, her voice strained patient. “If I rappel down, will you be able to follow me?”
I nodded, finding myself too nervous to easily speak.
“Then see you down there,” she concluded as she let herself start sliding lower, faster than I’d seen most soldiers do it.
I’d only tried this twice, myself, but I knew how to do this, thank goodness. I waited for the rope to be ready again, as Lyria freed herself down below, then I grabbed it quick and attached myself to it the way I recalled it was done.
The mercenary grunted disapprovingly from beside me. I glanced his way, and his frown kept me quiet as he leaned in to check the way I’d tied myself in, loosened the knots and fixed it up all over again. Then he placed the rope in my hand and pressed my hand to my side, showing me how to hold it — I knew — and gave me a casual, dismissive gesture, and I guessed I was free to go.
I climbed over the edge and looked down to see Lyria standing down there, hands on her hips, her hair catching the sun and cascading in never-ending lengths around her shoulders.
Chapter 3
Lyria reached out to the soldier with a loaf of bread in her hand. The moon offered ample lighting for our camp, rather unshielded, unguarded, a mere ring of blankets on the plain.
It had turned out the soldier had brought supplies worthy of a queen — as it should be, I supposed, if Andre had sent him. His cross-body bag had been brimming with of all sorts of items that came in handy: blankets, water flasks, food, even throwing knives. It was a good thing Andre had insisted on sending him along. How they’d packed up so fast, I had no idea, but I figured it had to be an army thing.