The Apprentice (43 page)

Chapter 44
                     
 

Disoriented, Rowan stumbled and
fell to the ground. He tried to rise but something pressed down on his back,
painfully pinning him to the earth while his arms were twisted behind him and
held in place. A simple yet effective restraining hold, one that every soldier
learned in training.

“Who do
we have here?” Gannon’s voice was unusually calm, as though Rowan’s sudden
appearance had not startled him in the least. It gave him chills.

“I heard
him leave the barracks and followed him here. He was spying, listening in on
your conversation.”

Rowan
could not move his head to see, but he recognized the voice of the person
pinning him to the ground. It was Byron.

“This is
not good! Not good at all! The boy has heard us. Who knows how much he
overheard. We should—”

“Silence
yourself, Evans! We do not want to be heard. And stop struggling, boy!”

Rowan
gasped as Gannon kicked him hard in the ribs. He stopped struggling. There was
a pause, and he guessed that there was some nonverbal exchange between Gannon
and the lord.

“Byron,
you have done a good service. Though you failed to apprehend our young
knight-in-training until it was too late.”

“I
followed him and would have kept him from the castle, but I couldn’t figure out
how he got in,” Byron complained.

“No
matter. I shall chastise you later. Right now I shall attend to our problem.
Release him.”

Stunned
sounds came from both Byron and Evans. Even Rowan was startled by Gannon’s
order. Yet he felt the pressure leave his back and his arms were released. He
stood, evaluating his options as he took a quick glance around. Gannon must
have noticed because he said, “There is no point in running. On this night, my
men are the only ones you will find, and they have been instructed to kill on
sight. And if you are thinking of raising an alarm, you should know that it
will make no difference. It will, however, mean that you forfeit your life. My
plan will not be stopped.”

“And
what plan would that be?” Rowan knew that he would not be able to make it past
the wall again. Not without being seen. Gannon or Byron would catch him and
kill him before he could squeeze himself through the tight hole. His best
option was to wait and hope to alert the castle.

“Byron,
have the guard send me a few men. They can spare the hands. And make sure they
are ready to keep anyone from entering or exiting the castle grounds.”

Byron
bowed deeply before he hurried off into the night. Rowan lost sight of him
quickly as the mists obscured his being.

Perhaps
running would work. The mists would provide ample cover after only a short
distance.

Rowan
was beginning to think that Gannon had simply ignored him, but not so. The man
returned his attention to Rowan as soon as Byron was gone.

“My
plans,
boy
, should be obvious by now. I am starting a revolution in
which I will take control of this country. The king will die and I shall take
his place. Tonight will be the beginning of a new era.”

Rowan
was stunned at the audacity of the man standing before him.

“You admit
this to me freely?”

“Do you
think me a fool, boy? I speak freely because as of this moment, you are no
threat to me. You have stumbled upon something that you were not meant to
discover, and now you must be removed.”

Rowan
heard footsteps behind him, the heavy clanking of armor. His escape was cut
off. He had missed his chance to run. He cursed, wishing he had his blade.

“I will
have none of that while you are in my presence. Not on this, of all nights.”
Gannon made a motion to the soldiers who had taken up positions behind him.
Rowan felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and a guard grabbed both hands and
twisted them behind his back painfully where they were tied and held in place
by a strong grip. He struggled but was held tightly.

“Take
him away, and keep him locked up. I want that boy kept under guard and given no
liberties whatsoever.”

“I say
we kill him,” Evans put in. “He knows too much and he serves us no purpose
alive. Are you truly so vain as to keep him prisoner just for your own
amusement?”

“Quiet,
Evans. He may serve some purpose yet, especially with Baird still around.”
Gannon turned to his soldiers. “I do not care if he gets roughed up and gains a
few bruises, but this boy is not to die. Not tonight, at least. Not while he
may still prove useful. Now take him away from me, I have other important
matters to deal with.” Footsteps faded into the night as Gannon left.

The
hands that held him pushed, and Rowan was forced to stumble forward. He glanced
backwards but one of the soldiers struck him across the face. The hand wore a
gauntlet and the blow drew blood.

Rowan
cried out before he could be silenced.

“Curses.
Someone shut him up or gag him. Gannon will destroy us if he alerts anyone in
the castle.”

“Don’t
worry. If the castle guard isn’t dead, they will be soon.”

“I don’t
care. What if Gannon hears him?”

The
hands forcing him forward pulled him to a stop and Rowan heard a ripping sound.
He felt something pressed against his mouth but he locked his jaw shut. The
soldier cursed and punched him in the stomach. He coughed and the cloth was
shoved in and bound around his head.

When
done, they marched onwards, leading him towards the back of the castle where
the older buildings stood unused. The gag tasted wretched and smelled even
worse. Rowan could feel bile rising in his throat. He made sounds of protest
but the gag muffled his noises so that they came out as groans.

Another
punch.

Rowan
groaned again, but quietly. He did not want to be struck again.

He tried
to focus. To think. Where were they and where were they going? The guards
seemed to be taking the long way around the grounds. Rowan’s feet were growing
heavy and he was finding it difficult to keep moving forward and remain upright
at the same time. But he forced himself onwards, hoping for another chance. A
moment where he might be able to escape and stop this madness or alert someone.
Can no one see what is happening?

“What
was that?”

Rowan
had heard it too. The faint sound of something moving, something that was
hidden by the darkness and the mists.

“Probably
just a dog or some animal, you fool. Don’t get spooked. They’re the ones who
should be afraid,” the lead guard said, gesturing towards where Rowan could
only assume that the castle stood. Princess Eliza flashed through his mind.

“I
thought all the dogs were locked in the kennel?”

“Just
shut up and keep moving. I don’t want to be outside all night listening to you
whining like a maiden. It is cold and wet and I heard nothing.”

As the
man spoke, Rowan heard another sound. This time, none of the guards caught it,
not even the nervous one. He stared out into the hazy darkness, trying to find
something that could give him hope. Someone who was watching or following him,
perhaps. But he saw nothing.

The
guards marched on, dragging Rowan with them. They were nearing one of the
oldest buildings, one that had been abandoned and left in disuse and disrepair.
Rowan knew he had to act then or not at all. If he were to escape and raise an
alarm, it would have to be while he was still outside. Once the guards had him
locked in the building, they would tie him up and make sure he could not
escape.

As he
was being shoved towards the threshold of the building, Rowan pretended to
stumble. He allowed himself to fall forward, knowing what was to come. He heard
the two guards behind him curse and move to grab him and maintain their hold.
As soon as he sensed them shift their weight, he pushed backwards with all of
his strength. He caught one almost directly in the jaw and his shoulder caught
the other man in his chest. The grip holding him slackened and the man whose
jaw Rowan struck let go of him entirely.

The
three of them fell to the ground amid a chorus of curses and Rowan was able to
twist free.

He
stumbled upright and immediately bolted, running away from his captors before
the others could grab him. He could hear footsteps behind him, urging him
faster. Blindly he ran through fog and darkness, his hands bound behind him and
the gag making it hard to breathe. He couldn’t scream, not even if he had the
breath to give him voice, and he could not turn his head very far without
choking himself.

It was
lucky that he had managed to run any distance at all. But burdened as he was,
his escape was not long lived. Before he was even out of breath, he tripped
over something and tumbled to the ground. He struggled to get up, to get away,
but his bindings slowed him and before he could find his feet, he heard someone
approaching. A kick sent him tumbling.

“I dun
care what Gannon says no more. I’m gunna cut you so you can’t cause any more
trouble.”

The gag
muffled Rowan’s cries as he was dragged farther away from the other guards. He
tried to struggle, feeling suddenly very helpless. The man leaned in real
close, so he could whisper his next threat to Rowan.

“I’m
goin’ ta cut you. And you are going to scream. But you won’t die. Theron fears
Gannon, and so he will keep you alive. But you will never, ever be a whole man
again.”

Rowan
felt the point of a blade. It pressed down and sliced his thigh. His leg burned
white hot.
I will not show fear. I will not shame myself. And I will not
give this bastard the satisfaction he craves.
Rowan repeated this to
himself, trying to focus inwards as he was too fearful of what was about to
happen. He kicked and tried to struggle. It did no good. Theron was strong and
heavy, a man fully grown. He kicked Rowan in the ribs, rolling him onto his
stomach and kneeling on top of him.

I
will not fear this man. I am stronger than him.
I will not scream.
Then Rowan
felt the blade upon his skin, carving a mark across his back. And a second. And
another, and another, and another.

Rowan
screamed. He screamed and he screamed again and if not for his gag he would
have wakened the whole castle.

Suddenly
the touch of steel fell away and something hot and wet was dripping onto
Rowan’s body. He opened his eye.

Above
him stood the man named Theron, his sword raised and something long and
dripping protruding from his chest. Theron’s expression was masked by the
darkness and Rowan’s vision was obscured by tears. The lifeblood of the man who
stood over him dripped off the blade that slew him and onto Rowan.

The
blade was withdrawn and with nothing holding him up, Theron’s body fell to the
ground and revealed the figure standing behind him.

Chapter 45
                     
 

“Are you alright, Rowan?” Baird’s voice
was the most comforting sound that Rowan could have asked for. He felt himself
pulled to his feet and his bindings were cut loose.

“There
are others,” Rowan coughed. “Nearby.”

“I dealt
with them. I could not risk them surprising me while rescuing you. They would
have raised an alarm. Now come, there is work to be done and I cannot see a way
to send you away safely.”

“It was
Gannon,” Rowan blurted. “He’s a traitor. He means—”

“He
means to usurp the throne,” Baird finished. “I have had my suspicions. I have
watched that man carefully for a long time, since before our time together.”

“But if
you knew, how could he have been allowed to command?” Rowan tried to keep pace
with his master as they walked, but moving was painful for him. His leg was
bleeding and his left eye was beginning to swell where he had been struck
earlier.

“
I
was suspicious of Gannon, but the men who follow him are fiercely loyal and he
has much influence. He commands a good deal of wealth and with the right people
behind him, many have considered him a strong commander and well worthy of the
rank. King Alden has always heeded my counsel, but he was loath to dismiss one
of his greatest generals without good reason and solid proof. The king is an
old friend, but has been acting a stubborn fool.”

A
feeling of dread came over Rowan. He had always seen his master as a powerful,
almost invincible force. He was the great knight of Estoria, the king’s own
right hand. None were supposed to command such power and influence as him. When
Rowan had been in trouble back in Attica, Baird’s presence had been enough to
put an end to the conflict that threatened. It unnerved him that Baird had been
unable to prevent this crisis, that he might not have the power to deal with
it.

“Take
this.” Baird offered Rowan his short-sword. Rowan took the blade, feeling a
good deal more confident with a sword in hand. He would have preferred Tenro,
but he had foolishly left it back at the barracks and there was nothing to do
about that now. “I do not want you fighting and risking your life, but I cannot
leave you without a weapon to defend yourself. You are to do as I say and
protect yourself. Do not act unless you see a moment where you can safely
engage an opponent. If the opportunity arises, then act and do not hesitate. Do
you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do
you?” Baird halted and turned to face his apprentice. “It is no easy thing to
take a life. But you must remember, these men will not hesitate. They must be
stopped and the royal guard must be warned. The events of tonight will end in
bloodshed, and it is our job to ensure that the blood which is shed is not that
of the royal family. We must protect King Alden, and we must protect the
princess.”

Rowan
nodded. He knew that she must remain safe. If it was Baird’s duty to protect
the king, then it would fall to him to protect Princess Eliza. And in that
task, he would not allow himself to fail.

Together
they moved quickly and quietly towards the castle. Twice they encountered
guards, but Baird took them unawares and cut the men down before they could
scream. His master acted quickly enough that Rowan himself had no time to act,
and so his hesitation to kill went unnoticed. They left the bodies where they
came upon them, opting for haste rather than stealth.

Through
the mists and the darkness, Rowan and Baird were guided by the castle lights
shining down on them from high above. Only the rooms above the first floor were
lit, and not very many of them at that. The light provided was dim at best.

Rowan
struggled to see, he struggled to walk, and he struggled to keep pace with his
master. But he pressed on, knowing that he must. He and Baird had a
responsibility to act. They could not trust the royal guard to discover the
impending treachery on their own. And so he pushed onwards, finding a reserve
of strength and an iron will that he had not known was within him.

Neither
of them made a sound. The night was silent and the noises could carry far and
reach the ears of those who were listening cautiously, the many that Gannon had
posted. The silence was so oppressive that it caught Rowan unawares when his
master spoke.

“We are
nearing the castle. There is no turning back at this point. Once we are inside,
you are to obey any command that I give to you, no matter what it may be. If I
tell you to run, I want you to be gone. If I tell you to hide, you will do so.
This is no game. I must know that you will heed my commands.”

Rowan
hesitated, then nodded. He disliked the idea of being told to run and hide like
a child. He knew how to wield a blade. He could help. But any other response
would prompt Baird to leave him outside on his own or send him away. The only
chance he would have to help required him to keep his mouth shut and be
submissive.

Baird
stared at Rowan long and hard before he finally looked back towards the castle.
“Just remember, you will obey any command that I give you. On this night, you
are a knight and must prove yourself worthy. Do not be stupid, do not act
foolishly, and do not seek valor, honor, or glory, for you will find none. Our
goal is to find the royal family and to stop this coup. Failing that, we must
save those that we can.”

“We
won’t fail,” Rowan said, his voice surprisingly calm given how nervous he was.
“We won’t fail. I won’t fail.” He repeated it to himself under his breath, a
sort of mantra that made the reality of their situation somewhat more bearable.
If Baird could hear him, he did not show it.

“If for
some reason we are separated, I want you to make your way safely out of the
castle and head for the barracks. I will meet you there before daybreak. While
you wait, you must spread word of what is transpiring so that those loyal to
the royal family may rally for support.”

That was
all that Baird said, but Rowan could hear the words that went unspoken. If they
were separated and had not met by daybreak, then they would have failed. It was
the grim possibility that neither of them was willing to accept, though each
for different reasons.

“How do
you plan on getting inside of the castle? Are we going to sneak in?” Rowan
asked. He had been wondering what his master’s plan was. Knowing the knight, he
had likely assessed the situation and knew the best course of action.

But the
look that Baird gave Rowan did not inspire confidence. It worried him. It was
the foolhardy look that Baird often had when he was toying with Rowan or when
he was going to show off.

“We are
going to go in through the main entrance.”

Rowan
thought that he must have misheard his master. But a second glance at Baird’s
expression reaffirmed what he thought he had heard.

“Why
would we go in through the front entrance? It is bound to be guarded and
watched by Gannon’s men. There are many other ways into the castle which are
unwatched, unguarded, and would allow us to go unseen.”

“Of
course there are other options. I know this castle better than most. But I have
reasons for my course of action. Stealth can get us far, but I do not know who
is trustworthy and who is not, so I do not know who is watching. There are eyes
everywhere throughout this castle and at some point we will be spotted.
Gannon’s men will try to get rid of us, and they will do so quickly and
quietly. If that happens, we will fail and Gannon’s coup is all but assured.
Remember that we remain the only two who are aware of the impending coup.

“So what
is needed now is something loud that will attract attention and cause an alarm
to be raised. Our entrance will alert the castle guard, or what remains of it.
It will also distract Gannon and his soldiers and force them to focus on us.
Gannon is relying on the element of surprise to aide him. Causing a disturbance
will take that from him.”

“Baird,”
Rowan started, tugging at his master’s clothing. “Won’t our entrance—your
presence—could that force Gannon’s hand? What if that makes him act?”

“It will
force him to begin, but it will also alert the guard. It is a risk, to be sure,
but we must take such risks. We cannot hesitate and we cannot look back. Not
now.”

Baird
was right. They had moved close enough to the main entrance to see that it was
guarded. There were five men, two standing to either side of the entrance and
three more at the foot of the steps.

“I
thought there would be more than this. Gannon must be focused on holding the
wall rather than protecting the castle. A more difficult barrier to guard, but
useful if held.”

Baird
suddenly rose out of his crouch. He now stood visible to any one of the guards
who cared to look for him, though the mists and the darkness hid him well.

No heads
turned their way and no alarms were raised. Not yet.

“Are you
ready?”

Rowan’s
knees felt weak, his stomach was in knots, and his body was battered and
bruised. Distractedly, he wondered if he looked as terrible as he felt. But
when Baird looked to him, he nodded. He would not balk, no matter what
happened. He would follow his master.

Rowan
took his place next to Baird and waited. Baird loosened the sword in his sheath
and moved forward, his pace unhurried, as though he intended to enter the
castle like any other night and he expected no trouble.

Baird
was fifty paces from the stairs before the guards noticed him. They did not
give a shout or raise an alarm, but Rowan could see recognition in the eyes of
the three men at the foot of the great stone steps.

They
knew who Baird was and were surprised to see him. There was uncertainty in
their gazes, and fear, but even Rowan could sense that these men would not
falter.

“Halt!
Who approaches? Let yourself be known.” This came from one of the men guarding
the doors at the top of the steps. He stood squinting through the fog, trying
to identify the two approaching shapes. With the mists as thick as they were,
the torchlight would offer little aid to the man’s vision.

Baird
kept his course, neither halting nor identifying himself, though he was clearly
known to the two lower guards. Rowan followed. He figured that he was the one
they were trying to identify. It was likely that the guards were not warned
about him; they would not know of his capture and escape.

Anonymity
might aid him. Not knowing who he was, the guards were likely to act with
caution and consider him a threat. Though Rowan’s appearance was probably not
so intimidating as that of his master, for he stood a head and a half shorter,
perhaps more, and he was wounded.

“Halt!”
the guard atop the stairs said, louder this time. Baird did not obey. He kept
walking forward as though he had nothing to fear. Rowan wished that he could
smother his own fear. He tried to dampen his emotions by emptying his mind, but
it did little for him.

“I will
not warn you again. Identify yourself.”

There
was a brief moment in which Rowan could feel the tension of the situation
rising, ready to burst. And then it happened. In an instant, the scene before
them turned violent.

“Stop
where you are!” the man atop the stairs said, his voice loud, near to shouting.
“Stop—”

The man
tried to shout but his words were cut off as the soldier beside him stepped
forward and cut his throat from behind.

“Shut up
before you wake the whole castle, you old fool.”

In a
flash, Baird had lunged forward so that the lower soldiers were within his
reach. Blade in hand, he killed one of the guards in a single stroke and cut
another before the man could draw his sword. The remaining guard had time to
draw his blade and suddenly the sounds of steel rang out through the night as
Baird fought.

All of
this before Rowan even moved.

He stood
rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the dying man at the top of the stairs.
The man lay draped over the steps, struggling to draw air as his lifeblood
drained away. Rowan flashed back to when he had seen Baird kill a man, the
memory coming to him unbidden. It was worse this time. The dying man thrashed
about, and it seemed to Rowan that in his final moments he was trying to scream
or raise some sort of alarm. Then the man’s comrade kicked him away, the blow
sending him tumbling down the stairs. When the downed man came to a halt, he
was no longer moving and Rowan could tell that he was dead.

He
was killed by his own man. A fellow soldier,
Rowan thought.
Perhaps he was a king’s man, and that
was why he tried to shout, to raise an alarm. Or was he killed simply because
he was too loud?

The
guard that Baird had wounded was back on his feet and Baird now faced two men
in place of one. Baird was far more skilled and his size and strength gave him
an advantage, but he was no longer pressing the attack as he had before. The
element of surprise was gone and he fought two against one.

Rowan
saw the guard from atop the stairs approaching Baird’s rear and acted without
thinking. He pulled the short-sword from its sheath and moved forward to
attack. He was not like Baird, however, and he found using a true blade, one
with a cutting edge, a very hard thing to do.