beneath the tower at the east end.”
“What is your condition?”
“Not well.”
“Torture?”
“Yes,” the healer said, “but the worst is to come. My father is going to execute me in a public ceremony an hour before the sun rises.”
“Do you know how much time we have?” Markwood asked.
“I don’t. It’s hard to tell time here. I know it’s been night for some while.”
“Do you know where the execution is to take place?” the old wizard asked.
“The castle’s main hall.”
“Randall, we are going to save you,” Markwood said. “I need to confer with Kron, but I will be in contact with you again soon.”
“Maslin, do not land yourself in trouble because of me.”
“What’s a little trouble among friends?”
Silence returned to the cell.
***
A ring of keys from the unconscious sergeant’s belt allowed Kron access to an empty cell where he deposited the man and the two dead guards. After that it was an easy job to slip up a stairwell out of the dungeon and into the castle proper.
Kron found himself in nearly empty halls of dark stone, the occasional torch hanging from a wall and moonlight shining through tall windows offering light. The man in black found it easy enough to blend in with the few staff and soldiers milling about, as they too wore his color.
He considered returning to Markwood at that point, to inform the wizard he had found a route out of the dungeons, but thought it best to get a feeling for their new surroundings before doing so.
He spent nearly an hour learning the basic layout of the gigantic structure he traveled through. He was always careful not to stray too near a guarded door in case questions would be asked.
Eventually he found his way to a side exit, a servant’s door, and allowed himself access to the street beyond.
His eyes scanned up and down the narrow, bricked path, taking note of the two-story buildings that seemed to surround the castle. All was quiet, and there were fewer people out on the streets than there had been within the castle.
Spotting the outer walls of the city not too far away, Kron eased from the castle door and slid into a shadow across the street. He smiled to himself, noticing how dark everything was in Kobalos, from the stone of every building to the road itself. It allowed him to move around quite freely.
Skulking along buildings, always moving toward the outer wall, Kron came to a halt when he spotted flames ahead. At first he thought a group of soldiers carrying torches were headed in his direction, then he realized he was staring out the open gates of the city into the sea of tents beyond. Camp fires dotted the road and low hills in front of Mogus Potere’s main entrance.
A large carriage trimmed with dark violet brocade caught Kron’s attention. The vehicle was just outside the walls, unmoving next to the road into the city. The carriage was large enough for at least eight horses, but Kron saw no animals hooked to the contraption. The color of the cloth drew most of his attention, purple being the colors of the Eastern Army.
Knowing Markwood was probably growing concerned about his lengthy absence, Kron quickly scooted ahead toward the gates, two giant doors of solid wood with iron bands studded across. He did not want to spend much longer away from the wizard, but that carriage had captured his sense of intrigue.
Nearing the city doors, Kron found a gathering of half a dozen Kobalan soldiers around a fire. The men paid little attention to another person in black as he glided past them. Kron had found no need to hide his presence. He was bulky and wore black. He appeared as one of them.
He quickly found a different response from the soldiers stationed near the wagon. There were six of the men, each wearing chain armor and a purple tabard, and all of them took interest in the man in black as he approached.
Seeing he could not get near the carriage without drawing attention, Kron spun off in another
“What is your condition?”
“Not well.”
“Torture?”
“Yes,” the healer said, “but the worst is to come. My father is going to execute me in a public ceremony an hour before the sun rises.”
“Do you know how much time we have?” Markwood asked.
“I don’t. It’s hard to tell time here. I know it’s been night for some while.”
“Do you know where the execution is to take place?” the old wizard asked.
“The castle’s main hall.”
“Randall, we are going to save you,” Markwood said. “I need to confer with Kron, but I will be in contact with you again soon.”
“Maslin, do not land yourself in trouble because of me.”
“What’s a little trouble among friends?”
Silence returned to the cell.
***
A ring of keys from the unconscious sergeant’s belt allowed Kron access to an empty cell where he deposited the man and the two dead guards. After that it was an easy job to slip up a stairwell out of the dungeon and into the castle proper.
Kron found himself in nearly empty halls of dark stone, the occasional torch hanging from a wall and moonlight shining through tall windows offering light. The man in black found it easy enough to blend in with the few staff and soldiers milling about, as they too wore his color.
He considered returning to Markwood at that point, to inform the wizard he had found a route out of the dungeons, but thought it best to get a feeling for their new surroundings before doing so.
He spent nearly an hour learning the basic layout of the gigantic structure he traveled through. He was always careful not to stray too near a guarded door in case questions would be asked.
Eventually he found his way to a side exit, a servant’s door, and allowed himself access to the street beyond.
His eyes scanned up and down the narrow, bricked path, taking note of the two-story buildings that seemed to surround the castle. All was quiet, and there were fewer people out on the streets than there had been within the castle.
Spotting the outer walls of the city not too far away, Kron eased from the castle door and slid into a shadow across the street. He smiled to himself, noticing how dark everything was in Kobalos, from the stone of every building to the road itself. It allowed him to move around quite freely.
Skulking along buildings, always moving toward the outer wall, Kron came to a halt when he spotted flames ahead. At first he thought a group of soldiers carrying torches were headed in his direction, then he realized he was staring out the open gates of the city into the sea of tents beyond. Camp fires dotted the road and low hills in front of Mogus Potere’s main entrance.
A large carriage trimmed with dark violet brocade caught Kron’s attention. The vehicle was just outside the walls, unmoving next to the road into the city. The carriage was large enough for at least eight horses, but Kron saw no animals hooked to the contraption. The color of the cloth drew most of his attention, purple being the colors of the Eastern Army.
Knowing Markwood was probably growing concerned about his lengthy absence, Kron quickly scooted ahead toward the gates, two giant doors of solid wood with iron bands studded across. He did not want to spend much longer away from the wizard, but that carriage had captured his sense of intrigue.
Nearing the city doors, Kron found a gathering of half a dozen Kobalan soldiers around a fire. The men paid little attention to another person in black as he glided past them. Kron had found no need to hide his presence. He was bulky and wore black. He appeared as one of them.
He quickly found a different response from the soldiers stationed near the wagon. There were six of the men, each wearing chain armor and a purple tabard, and all of them took interest in the man in black as he approached.
Seeing he could not get near the carriage without drawing attention, Kron spun off in another
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