Chapter 16 – The Challenge
“I’m hallucinating,” I breathed. “I’m tripped out on something illegal. There is NO way Redmond just popped through the floor.”
Redmond laughed and climbed up through the trapdoor, while the sound of crackling fire grew nearer. A hand…oh my god, someone’s hand on fire!
Wait a second. There was only one person I knew who could do that. And sure enough, Selene’s pale face came up out of the hole, her hand lit like a torch. She smirked and extinguished the fire and then followed Redmond out of the passage. The jester bent and helped up another person. Kymber, who turned to us with relieved eyes. “Thank goodness you’re alright! Well, except for the head wounds,” she added. Shocked into laughter, Alye, Philipia, and I giggled shamelessly. Finally, our hysterical laughter ended.
“How on earth did you get here?!” Philipia demanded incredulously.
“Long story,” Selene replied, holding open the trapdoor. “But first, you need to get out of here. Down you go.” Of course, the place she pointed to was a nice black hole smelling of unpleasant things, but we didn’t have much choice and last I checked, we couldn’t phase through walls. So Alye was the first to jump down. We heard her land softly and call up, “It’s okay! Come on!”
Philipia went next and I followed. About six feet down, I landed in dry dust that stirred up at our presence and sent me coughing. It was pitch black and feelings of claustrophobia immediately started to clinch my insides. I stood in the dark, paralyzed and waiting for something, anything to force away the dark.
My wish was granted. I heard another person land behind me and the blackness immediately retreated; turning, I saw Selene using her hand as a torch. She winked and walked ahead of me, past Philipia and Alye so she could lead the way. Redmond jumped down after another few seconds and Kymber came right after him, closing the trapdoor behind her. Now we had to depend on Selene, Redmond, and Kymber to get us out of here.
“How did you find us?” Philipia demanded as we walked down the dark, dry tunnel. “And how did you get here anyway?”
Redmond laughed softly. “Soldiers ought not to get at the wine barrels. A couple came tramping into the kitchen an hour ago and demanded lots of alcohol as a reward for ‘capturing the rebel leaders’ right here in the castle. One of the kitchen maids overheard them and came to tell me because…um…” and here he blushed and fumbled, “…well, she felt I ought to know and she supports the Rebellion and wanted to bemoan the fact that surely they were now doomed. Or something melodramatic like that; she burst into tears after a few minutes.
“Anyway,” he continued determinedly, “I knew the ‘rebel leaders’ had to be you and you hadn’t come back yet, so I realized that we had to rescue you somehow. So I went back to Kymber’s house and called an emergency meeting. Unfortunately, Lunae was busy teaching some of the villagers how to use a bow and most of the other council members were unavailable for a rescue mission. Selene, however, wasn’t, so the three of us decided that we’d somehow rescue you. Of course, we would have to find you first.”
“And that’s where my father helped us out,” Kymber broke in shyly. “My family has worked as blacksmiths for a long time, and my great-grandfather was around when the castle was first built. Father mentioned a secret passageway that led away from the castle prison in case the ruler ever had to escape. And Father also remembered that the tunnel would go straight to the blacksmith’s house. Apparently, my great-grandfather swore an oath of loyalty to the ruler of his time, but nobody ever used it and so we forgot about it. Until now of course.”
Selene broke in, “We had a problem finding the trapdoor. It wouldn’t do to have a tunnel that you could easily find. Defeats the purpose. Kymber found it; she talked to a couple mice and things and they pointed out where the wood on the floor didn’t match the rest. And from there, we just followed the passage.”
The group fell into silence and we walked down the tunnel. From the light of Selene’s fire, I looked around. The passageway was well-made, I had to admit, even though I wasn’t exactly an expert. If it hadn’t collapsed in a hundred years, I doubted it would now. Still, the dark brown, mud-clotted walls that surrounded us creeped me out. Decaying lichen clung to the walls and spider’s webs drifted in the movement we made when we passed by, hopeful arachnids peeping out from the strands of dying silk to see if we’d brought any stray insects. As I glanced around, I saw a tiny lizard climbing up the walls, fleeing from our fire.
The minutes passed and we seemed to be going nowhere, passing identical walls and cobwebs. I was starting to get worried. Had we gotten lost somehow, even though I hadn’t seen any turns? What if someone followed us? I glanced backward but saw only the approaching blackness that neared as Selene marched on. Swallowing, I turned around and kept walking.
Dust had long since settled in my throat when something changed. Selene abruptly halted and moved her hand up, revealing a wooden plank. Ahead of her, the passage closed off and became a wall of dirt and rock. Quickly, Selene pushed up the trapdoor overhead and jumped out, Alye scrambling to get up until Redmond sighed and picked up the midget, hauling her through the opening. Stifling our giggles, Philipia and I scrambled out, at last reaching open spaces.
Looking around, I realized that we were in the cellar of someone who obviously worked with metal. Old horseshoes sat in a crate in the corner while dented and broken swords and other weapons littered the dusty floor. When she saw the swords, Alye automatically reached for her belt to pull out her own, but then remembered that they had been taken. I sighed deeply and wished for my staff.
Speaking of which, could I do magic now? Experimentally, I tried to make a small ball of blue energy. To my surprise and delight, I could do it now, easily allowing the magic to flow from my fingertips. Bliss!
Philipia noticed and suddenly closed her eyes, regulating her breathing. The rest of us watched in interest, hoping it would work.
It did. Philipia swiftly changed to her horse form, taking up a massive amount of space in the small cellar. A grin on her horse face, she transformed back to herself and gave a mocking laugh. “So much for dampeners!” We had to laugh.
Alye fingered her belt again, missing the cool metal of her swords. Redmond noticed the gesture. “Need your arms?”
For a second, I wondered if Alye’s arms had vanished and I didn’t notice, but then I remembered the other definition. The midget in question nodded, looking longingly at the various weapons surrounding us. With a wink and a smile, Redmond darted out of the cellar, calling, “I’ll be right back! I’m going to get your swords and staff.”
He didn’t come back for almost two hours.
Grouped around in the main room of Kymber’s house, her father standing in a nearby corner with a cup of some unidentifiable liquid, we waited anxiously for the return of our jester. Selene paced up and down the floor, flicking a blaze from her finger on and off. Kymber was constantly looking out the window, while Alye fidgeted and Philipia focused on trying to do a partial shapeshift; it wasn’t going well. She gave up after accidentally growing antlers and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. I sat at the rough table, manipulating a small blue ball of magic, changing it into various shapes. One took the shape of what looked like a dragon, which gained Philipia’s interest. She watched it carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“You trying to turn into a dragon?” I asked incredulously. “I didn’t know you could do something like that.”
“I don’t either, but it’s better than nothing,” she retorted; I guess she was trying to keep her mind occupied.
Several loud knocks and the sound of heavy breathing startled us. Outside, it was pitch black and freezing cold; I could see pale snowflakes coasting in the wind. A dark shape rose up near the window. Backing up against the wall, Kymber cautiously glanced out the window. What she saw sent her scrambling to open the door. Snowy, teeth-chattering, and possessing a painful-looking bloody scratch on his face, Redmond stumbled through the door, clutching three long objects to his chest.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” I demanded, rocketing up out of my seat. He nodded silently and placed the things on the table; Alye’s two swords and my staff. I seized the long blue wand and felt a brief shiver as I felt my magic reconnect properly with the rest of me. Selene quickly lit the fireplace and Redmond stood before it, holding his cold hands to the orange and red flames. Finally, after thawing for a few minutes and drinking some hot liquid that Kymber had shoved into his hands, he spoke.
“Well, I’m officially unwelcome at the castle now,” he sighed. Did I sense a hint of…regret? “Some guard saw me as I was getting your weapons and staff out of the armory and I had to flee out the castle. Barely managed to get over the drawbridge, they were closing it as fast as they could. As it is, someone managed to get an arrow at me.” He fingered the cut on his cheek, the result of a lucky shot from a bow. I winced in sympathy.
“Shall we go fetch Violet?” I asked.
“In the morning; it’s nothing major,” Redmond waved away the medical attention. “But yes, I expect that as of this moment, I’m every much as wanted as you, and I don’t mean that in a positive way.”
There was a subdued silence. The castle had been Redmond’s home for as long as he could remember. And now the only way he’d be able to go back inside was if we snuck in, which, given the fact that four high-profile people had escaped, was about as likely as Alye taking a vow of peacefulness and becoming a Barbie doll.
Next morning. I woke up and sat up very quickly, a huge mistake because the blow to my skull was still aching mightily. So the sudden movement just gave me a major headache. Oy. Looking around, I remembered we were in Kymber’s house, huddled down in the cellar (freezing cold!) where we were unlikely to be found. And today we’d need to report to the Rebellion council. More oy. I fell back onto the pillow and kneaded my temples, trying to wish the headache away. With great reluctance, I got out of bed and nearly tripped over Redmond, who was sleeping nearby on a pallet like the rest of us. Selene was gone, probably back at her home. A slight sound above my head made me look up; Kymber was standing on the cellar steps, looking expectant.
“Time to go,” she announced. “I’ve gotten the council together.”
Great.
As we huddled around the table, Violet tsking and poking at the head wounds on Alye, Philipia, Redmond, and me, the rest of the Rebellion council shivered in the frigid atmosphere. Selene finally got sick of it and marched out of the room, returning with a metal tray on which she piled some stray wood shavings and other flammables. We had a nice little table fire now, which increased the room temperature to a fairly decent amount.
“So Redmond’s cover’s blown, the three of us can never get back into the castle, and the only reason we’re still alive is because Kymber found the trapdoor. Anything I missed?” Alye piped up.
“The fact that we have a traitor, someone who gave us away,” I muttered, hating the thought more than anything else in the world. Tension gripped the room, with an automatic stiffening of spines and hardening of faces ensuing.
Suddenly, a commotion of noise erupted from outside our room. Were we being discovered? Oh god no, not again! Before any of us could react, the door was flung open. A pale-faced, tousled and snowflake-adorned man was standing there with a large sheet of parchment in his hand. My staff was in his face before he could do more and we dragged him inside. Alye held him against the wall at sword point.
“Who the heck are you and what do you want?” Philipia hissed.
The guy gulped; he wasn’t that old, maybe 20, and at the moment, he looked like he was about to wet himself.
“PleasefortheloveofheavendontkillmeImnotgoingtohurtanyoneIjusthaveamessage!!!!”
Alye relaxed slightly and moved her blade away from his chest. “Spit it out.”
“I-it needs to b-be said in fr-front of th-the whole v-vill-village!” he stuttered, not daring to breathe. So obligingly, we marched him outside, Clance the innkeeper following us, and soon word of mouth spread and the entire village of Glovebern was grouped around the sweating messenger. He gulped and slowly unfurled the parchment. His voice shook as he read the ornate script.
“Hear ye citizens of Glovebern, the supreme Lord Delroy has a vital announcement that portends to the health and well-being of all the members of this village, including the foul witches that have recently arrived.”
“Nice way to put it!” I laughed loudly. The other peasants joined in, mocking the pompous words of Delroy. The messenger stood with sweat freezing in the snow and continued to read.
“In the past few months, the villagers, obviously urged on by the aforementioned witches in human form, have engaged in a number of activities that have worked to undermine the rule of Lord Delroy, whose only interest has been to preserve the well-being of Glovebern’s people.” A noisy “LIAR!” call from the villagers halted the reading again for a few moments. “Therefore,” the messenger plugged on, “the Lord Delroy wishes to propose a measure to end the ceaseless violence and chaos.
“In exactly two weeks time, Lord Delroy will assemble his forces one mile south of the castle. The villagers are directed to engage in armed combat with said forces. Decline this challenge and Lord Delroy shall personally oversee the hunting down and burning of all members of the rebellion against him. If the villagers engage in the battle and overpower Lord Delroy’s forces, he will willingly hand over all control of the village of Glovebern and leave its people to fend for themselves. Lose, however, and every last one of the rebellion members will be drawn and quartered, flogged, and burned at the stake. Any remaining villagers will live out the rest of their natural lives serving the will of Lord Delroy and ONLY Lord Delroy.”
For a proposal of war, it was surprisingly courteous. I felt myself quail at the thought of what would happen if we didn’t accept, but panic was flooding into my system. Fight? Against professionally-trained soldiers? And on our side would be a bunch of underfed villagers armed with PITCHFORKS! We had no chance.
But one look at the determined faces of the men and women surrounding me, who’d been willing to risk and do nearly anything to struggle out from under the thumb of Delroy, and I knew there was only one thought in their minds.
Clance stepped forward; as the oldest one in the village (and the runner of the Candlebar Inn), he spoke with the ultimate authority. “We accept Delroy’s challenge.” He didn’t bother to put on the honorific “lord” title. “And we hope,” in a great imitation of the message’s style, “that Delroy goes and rots with the dogs.”
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