Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

T he chamber she was given was spacious and warm. Pulling aside the draperies, Gwen looked out. Sleet continued falling, so thick she couldn’t see anything. She shuddered and turned away, not envying anyone stuck outside in that. If it was a daily occurrence, how were they to avoid it after the rescue? Would they make it back to the caves in time?

She paced the room after discarding her jacket and knapsack on the bed. They’d told her the icing would last about four hours and she should rest. They’d leave as soon as it passed. As much as she agreed that rest was a good idea, she knew sleep would evade her.

Nightmares of Tristan hurting and calling for her would assail her if she tried. Nonetheless, there wasn’t much she could do, and she’d need all her strength to remain invisible. Eyeing the bed, she considered lying down anyway.

A rap at the door startled her, and she called for the person to enter. It was Padraig. The knight walked in. He’d also removed his heavy winter furs. “There is one thing we need to discuss before leaving.” He motioned for her to sit and joined her. “Tristan may not be able to walk out. I will have to carry him.” He hesitated. “My loyalty is to Tristan, but as a knight I am sworn to protect those who are threatened and cannot defend themselves. Please don’t make me choose, because I will have to do the honorable thing. You are a lady.”

“It would be more honorable to rescue Tristan rather than me, Padraig.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “In this case he is more vulnerable that I am. If for some reason I don’t return, please ensure that my sister frees Tristan. Don’t let this all be for nothing.”

Padraig didn’t look convinced. “I assure you Tristan will not forgive me if I were to leave you behind, if a choice is to be made. Perhaps you should stay here and await our return.”

“No!” Gwen cried. “I’m going! You said yourself, you are not strong enough to do this alone. We must combine our strengths to be able to stand against Meliot. Now, let’s not waste any more time talking. Show me how we can combine our power. I need to know how to shoot energy and flatten some wizard ass.”

They trekked over the frozen terrain by foot. There was no way to tell time, but to Gwen it seemed as if at least two hours had past when it began snowing again. Why didn’t they use horses? Or make sleds and train the huge wolves to pull them, like the Eskimos did? That would make more sense than the slow process of walking, no stumbling, to the enemy.

She glanced at Padraig stern face. “Why don’t you just flash us there?”

“It would be sensed by Meliot. Any simple ward would pick it up, same with horses or any other form of transportation. We’ll be there shortly. The trip back will be faster, we can leap without care; they’ll be more than aware of our presence by then.”

Gwen concentrated on a snowdrift; lifting her hand she practiced sending an energy pulse to it. The snowbank burst, sending flurries into the air. She grinned like a fool until a wolf looked back and growled at her. “Just practicing,” Gwen told it. The wolf turned away.

Argo and another warrior walked in front of her and Padraig, behind them another four. One wolf remained beside Argo. The other wolf went ahead of them as soon as they left the caves.

Argo held his hand up signaling for them to stop. Gwen sent Padraig a questioning look. He shrugged in response. They waited for a few moments, until the wolf who’d been ahead of them returned. He went straight to Argo and sat. The warrior seemed to be communicating with the wolf, and then spoke to the group.

“The gate has four guards. Two are human, the other two are not. Inside the gate there are two sentries. The wolves will take care of the sentries.

“Once inside the gates, your wards will have to keep us from being seen from the watchmen. There is one watchman at each of the four turrets. We won’t bother with them, but they are archers, so if they spot us, it will be problematic.”

You think?

The warrior motioned at four men. “Go in behind us. We will see to the front guards and sentries. Go straight to the front door. Do not wait to see the outcome of our fight—take them in.” He nodded toward Padraig and Gwen.

“Once inside, remain hidden until they return.”

The men grumbled, disappointed to learn they were not expected to fight. Argo gave them a bland look. “If at any point they are discovered, you can kill anyone that stands in the way, anyone that tries to prevent them leaving the grounds.” The men then became animated.

Gwen shook her head. Men—who could ever understand them?

When they finally got close enough to the castle to see the front gate, Gwen was shocked by the lack of protection. The guards at the gate sat inside a small guard shack, playing a sort of dice game. The gates were open. Meliot didn’t seem to feel threatened. Argo and one of his men went into the guardhouse and quickly dispatched the unaware men.

Gwen turned her head away, concentrating on casting the wards for the group. She and Padraig were able to pass through the gate undetected. The wolves raced past them into the grounds. If the wolves were challenged by Meliot’s sentinels, the fight was silent.

Gwen looked about nervously. When she stepped on a branch, and it cracked under her boot she sucked in a harsh breath. Nerves were getting the best of her. Glancing down, she noticed they were leaving footprints. Fortunately the falling snow covered them with swiftness.

They arrived at the front doors of the castle. Another set of guards stood flanking the doorway. Unlike the gate guards, these men were watchful. Argo’s men approached silently. Both guards were grabbed from behind and dragged away with barely a struggle. The warriors opened the front door and stepped inside, one of them motioning for Gwen and Padraig to follow.

The front rooms were eerily empty. Argo’s men must have hidden upon entering, because Gwen did not see anyone. “Now.” Padraig disappeared, and she followed suit.

“This way,” he whispered, taking her hand.

They went down a long corridor, when two of Meliot’s men walked towards them. Gwen flattened herself against the wall, her heart beating so fast she was sure it was audible. She held her breath until they walked past, and only when Padraig tugged her hand did she remember to breathe again.

Coming to a door, they hesitated again. “We’ll have to wait.” Padraig spoke right into her ear. She wondered how he knew where her ear was. Was she not invisible enough? He must have sensed her tenseness. “I can see the outline of your aura,” Padraig explained.

She nodded, afraid to speak. The door’s hinges creaked as they opened, and a man stormed out. He didn’t bother closing the door behind him. Padraig and Gwen rushed in. They hurried down a stairway.

The room was dark and smelled of blood and other bodily fluids. A man lay unconscious or dead on the floor, next to a wooden slab on which Tristan lay. A gasp escaped her at the sight of the myriads of injuries on Tristan’s body. Chained by his wrists and ankles, he was on his back. Seeming awake, eyes open, he stared at the ceiling. His hair was matted, and she could see dried blood all over him. Large, angry bruises covered his torso and legs. His knees were purple, and his jaw and both eyes swollen almost shut. Needing to comfort him, she started to move toward him, but Padraig pulled her back.

“Unlock the chains. I will go and speak into his ear, so he will not fight when I pick him up. He is going to be invisible. I will be carrying him. Once he disappears, begin the protection ward I taught you. I cannot carry him, keep our wards up, and also help you, so do your best.”

His hand dropped hers and Gwen concentrated on the chains. She glanced up when Tristan turned his head to the side. Padraig must have spoken because his eyes scanned the room. She forced herself to ignore him as one by one the cuffs fell open.

“Gwen, please go,” Tristan rasped, his eyes wildly scouring the room. Then he was gone. Gwen turned and ran out of the room.

Desperation and fear were the ultimate motivators, running up the stairs and down the first corridor, she could think of nothing more than escaping. Thoughts of anything other than breaking out into the frozen grounds guided her as she flew past a doorway and finally reached the front room.

Before she could reach the front door, it slammed shut. Meliot’s guards flanking it, other guard’s swords began slicing the air. Unsure of what to do, she went to the nearest wall and pressed against it.

The man who’d stormed out of the room Tristan was held in earlier ran into the room. “Where is his lordship? The prisoner escaped.”

A cloud of smoke swirled then spread, dissipating slowly, showing an older man who stood at the high board, his eyes blazing. “Find him now,” he screamed. He turned to a new set of guards just entering. “There are others in the room—find them.”

The wizard narrowed his eyes and glanced in her direction. Gwen closed her eyes concentrating on her spell to block him from seeing her. It seemed to work.

Meliot emanated evil. She’d never doubt again that such darkness existed. Black power oozed from the wizard, but she was surprised by its lackluster. He seemed to rely on his men to do all the dirty work. Two men stood beside him and began throwing energy bursts into the room.

She cringed and slid down to the floor fast and crawled toward the door.

An explosion sounded and the heavy doors were flung open. Two white wolves rushed the guards. She gasped in surprise when the princesses’ warriors appeared within the room, their swords drawn.

Argo and another warrior also ran in from outside. They went straight toward Meliot. Anticipating them, the wizard raised his hand and flames lashed at the men, who held up shields and continued moving toward him.

The wards were holding.

The fighting was swift. The princesses’ men were well trained with the sword. Even to her untrained eyes, it was evident that Meliot’s guardsmen were in trouble. Their responses slow, their attacks easily blocked.

It was difficult going, trying to get to the front door while avoiding the feuding men and flying swords. She prayed that Padraig had made it out with Tristan. Finally, seeing an opening, she hurried through it to the open doorway and ran out into the cold. She stumbled past the guard shack to their agreed-upon meeting place. The snow was falling heavily now, making it hard to see.

Exhausted from holding the wards up, she walked as fast as she could into the woods, following the path Argo marked earlier. A white wolf came alongside her. Gwen felt an uneasy comfort at his presence. The wolf quietly walked beside her until they reached their designated spot. Finally feeling somewhat safe, Gwen went to a fallen tree and collapsed on it, the wolf sitting on its haunches in front of her.

Crying would be easy, but she feared the moistness from her tears would freeze onto her face. Wrapping her arms around her, she rocked back and forth, anxious to hear an approach. After a few minutes, she gave up hope. In all probability, Padraig had taken Tristan back to their home and was too weak to come and find her.

She eyed the wolf who remained on his haunches. “Can you take me back to the palace?”

The creature turned to look at her and then up to the sky. Then to her surprise, he nudged her leg until she lowered to sit again, wrapping her useless cloak around herself.

“You’re right. If they survived, they’ve gone to find shelter.”

The wolf moved closer, lay against her, and lowered its huge head to cover her as much as possible.

“This is the one time I am not going to complain about personal space,” Gwen said, shivering despite the wolf’s attempts to keep her warm.

To her horror, The Icing began.