“Yes,” the blond Fardy returned, “And that shelf was the reward of our virtue!”
“What providence you knocked that shelf on them,” Milada said, growing excited, his limbs throwing themselves around. “Come, to the keep!”
With that, Milada dashed to the pillar in the center of the room. The door to the keep was a massive stone slab, positioned nearest to the stairway. The four pulled on it frantically, but it was slow to open, for its size. At last, just as Hismoni and the assassins came in, it flew open. Once it was outside the frame, it opened easily.
“Hurry! Pull the door closed!” cried Milada, as the Fardy brothers struggled to close it.
“Hurry! Before they pull the door closed!” cried Hismoni, as he raced to the door, hoping to keep it from shutting.
It was a long second, each party straining themselves.
“We have them!” roared Hismoni, and he grabbed the edge of the stone door with his extended fingers.
But it was not to be. For just as he did so, the momentum of the door swung it shut. It sealed with a thud and a bang, taking Hismoni’s fingers with it. He cried out in pain. From the inside came the sound of slamming wood: the door was locked. The keep was made to be impenetrable.
“So it comes to this,” Hismoni groaned. “Thurston, go and keep watch through the windows. Selmar, go to the storage room. The battering ram we trained with yesterday is still there,” he glanced down at his left hand, now devoid of its fingers.“By coincidence,” and he laughed, but it was strained by the pain.
“So it was you, Hismoni,” Milada called through the door. “I trusted you as my own son, and I am given this in return. I wondered that the bandits did not slay you in the forest. Yet now it is explained.”
“Yes, but do not lie, for you have never trusted me as your own son. If it were not for the prince, I would have had you before. Yet revenge is only sweetened by delay.”
“I am a fool, perhaps,” Milada’s muffled voice returned, “But I am no liar. I have given you everything that is mine to give.”
“Everything, you mean, but that which I have most desired.”
“You had merely to ask it, and it would have been given.”
“No, not this. For I desire Ivona.”
“Hismoni!” Thurston cried from the windows. “Hismoni, come quick!”
“What is it?”
“A group of riders gallops across the plain.”
Hismoni rushed to the window. There, just leaving the forest, six riders could barely be made out, riding wildly for castle.
“Hurry!” Hismoni whispered, for fear of letting those within the keep overhear. “Hurry! They will reach us before ten minutes have passed!”
Chapter 31
By early evening the forest had already fallen into darkness. As the trees stretched into the distance, they converged into a continuous wall, and nothing could be seen through them. A fog came up from the ground which, together with the winding road, rendered the blindness almost complete. This only made the forest more beautiful, however, for while darkness filled the forest, there was light above. The sun was still in the sky, though below the tree line, and the colored light shone through the canopy. It was as if the forest slept while the sunset still came through the bedroom window.
It was in this paradox that the Admiral, the Innkeeper, Barnes, Meredith, and the messenger from the ship found themselves. They had been traveling all day, making a quick passage through the forest. By this time they were growing weary, though they had set their wills upon reaching the castle before resting.
“My legs grow heavier with each step I take,” said Meredith.
“Be glad your heart does not, friend, for that is my ailment,” answered the Admiral. “I have a feeling of urgency about reaching the castle. Doubtless it is only my fears, yet it will not pass from me.”
“A darkened heart will not impart tidings blessed or good, it will merely start to tear apart the hope which time has stood,” rhymed the Innkeeper.
“Yes, yet a heart jolly may be destroyed by its own folly,” said the Admiral, “But look, who is that over there, turning the bend? He is familiar to me, yet I cannot place him.”
The others looked closely for a moment, but the darkness of the forest was hard to pierce. At length, Meredith plunged his eyes through it and recognized the man.
“It is Osbert,” he said. “Perhaps he brings news of Milada.”
They quickened their pace, though it was unnecessary. Osbert broke into a run when he saw them.
“Hail, Admiral, I have been expecting you,” he said as he reached them.
“Osbert, what faith and patience! Fifteen years I have been gone, and still you are expecting me?”
“No,” the simple man laughed, “For I was told you were arriving today. I was sent into the forest to meet you.”
“Who could have known?”
“Hismoni told me. Why do you ask?”
“Hismoni?” Meredith raised his eyebrow.
“He could not have known, for we hurried here straight from port,” William said.
“Yet they knew. You must be mistaken.”
“Hismoni must have wanted to get rid of you this evening,” Meredith said slowly, “And used William’s name as an excuse, not knowing he had indeed returned.”
“But why? There is no need to fool me. Unless they mean to,” and Osbert said no more.
“Harm the Lord Milada,” Meredith finished his thought. “To your heels, friends! There is evil and treachery abroad tonight!”
They set off on a mad dash forward, hoping to reach the castle before it was too late; hoping to save Milada. Yet, at the same time, they knew that on foot it was too far to run. If they did make it, somehow, they would be too exhausted to fight. Still, they had hope. They believed their cause was just and that fate would intervene.
A moment passed before they came to the bend ahead. As they turned it, they ran into a cloaked man, dressed in a black robe with a hood shadowing his face. He carried the reigns of six horses, strung out on a rope. Yet when he saw them, he dropped the rope and ran. Osbert intersected his retreat into the forest, however, plunging his sword into the man’s stomach. The party stopped and mounted the horses.
“Providence or luck,” cried the Admiral, “But does it matter? I only hope, Osbert, that you have not killed an innocent man in your haste.”
“Have no fear of that. He was one of Gylain’s chief spies – he escaped me only a few days ago in this very area.”
Osbert was still on the ground; he quickly searched the dead man. He lifted a sealed scroll to show the others.
“Let us hope this carries useful intelligence, though we cannot tarry to read it now.”
He mounted the last horse as the others galloped off down the road.
Meanwhile, back in the castle, things looked grim for Milada and the Fardy brothers. With the help of their battering ram, the traitors made quick work of the stone door, as massive as it was.
“What is that noise without?” cried the blond Fardy, hearing the great booms of the ram striking the door.
“They must have a battering ram! We are done for, I fear,” said the black Fardy.
“Do not lose hope, brother. We may die in the end, but will we never be captured alive,” said the brown Fardy.
Milada, unable to handle the danger suddenly thrust upon him, was pacing back and forth in the tight stairway, his limbs dancing.
“We had best get furniture from the rooms above, to barricade the stairway and throw at them when they break through,” the blond Fardy said.
“Good idea, brother, and we can arm ourselves while we do.”
Since there was nothing they could do to keep the door upon its hinges, all of them went up the stairs to the rooms above. The first was a small armory. They each took a suit of leather armor and a sword, then continued upward. Next was Milada’s bedchamber. They moved the heavier furniture down to the beginning of the staircase, that they might hurl it down on the attackers.