“The only way into the castle is over the outer wall, or through the gate, and neither of those is vulnerable,” Leggett answered. “There are constant patrols along the parapets of the walls, two men to a patrol and three patrols at any minute circling the castle. The gate is guarded by twenty men. Once inside the courtyard, there are two troops of fifty men each stationed on either side, in garrisons where they will live until the queen is gone. From these they can be easily awoken to defense by the numerous sentries. The dungeon has few guards, to make up for the greater numbers elsewhere. But to reach it the rebels will have to get through the wall guards first. As for the castle itself, Nicholas Montague stands ready to command the outside garrison when the queen arrives. It is our plan to keep the guards on outside duty until the queen arrives, then move them onto the walls and the gates. The rest will be sent to the Great Hall. Is it well, my lord?”
“Yes,” Gylain mumbled, his mind still troubled about the security, but realizing that nothing else could be done. If William Stuart was near, his anger would be boiling. Gylain knew him well from before his treason: the Admiral was one to put a facade of patience over his anger but to never lose the anger itself. His rage would grow until it could be used wisely. Gylain had used his wife to overthrow his friend and king, had seduced her, and was having his daughter and son-in-law executed. Furthermore, he allied himself with William’s youngest daughter, Cybele, the Queen of Saxony. Gylain was afraid of William, perhaps, but his fear seemed only to invigorate his hate and his power.
“Sir?” Leggett asked as Gylain stared blankly into the space in front of him.
“Hmm? Ah, yes. Good work, Leggett, I am not disappointed; you may go now.”
“Yes, sir,” and with that, Leggett bowed and exited the room. “We will see how pleased he truly is,” Leggitt whispered as he left. “By all appearances, the castle is safe; but appearances can mean little. Let the rebels come, I say.”
Just as he went, a courier came running into the room from the secret passage. It was Roberts, Gylain’s page. Gylain turned to him as he came in and said, with an almost parental tone, “What is it, Roberts?”
“The queen, sir, she’s come – arrived I mean, just now.”
“What? The Queen of Saxony here already? Fetch Montague from the dungeons and have him forgo the executions today. Perhaps he will get to them later. Be sure that he is presentable. Hurry, lad.”
Roberts dashed off down the stairs to do his bidding and Gylain himself was not far behind. The stairway of the secret passage was only two feet wide and the incline was steep, for it traveled the same height as the outer stairway, but with a much smaller circumference. They went down about six hundred feet, finding at the bottom the small anteroom behind the throne. Gylain’s most striking feature was his countenance, for a man of his position and disposition would be thought to have a cruel face. But his was handsome and open – in appearance, an honorable, upright man – though he was troubled within about his purpose. Still, he did not stop to groom himself in the anteroom, but rushed through the Great Hall to the courtyard, stopping for only a moment to don the crown. He reached the drawbridge just as Nicholas Montague was arriving from the dungeon, whose door came out into the courtyard beside the castle.
“Lower the drawbridge,” Gylain commanded the soldiers guarding it.
“Yes, sir,” and the heavy wooden door began to lower.
As it was doing so, Gylain turned to Montague and talked to him in a low voice that could not be overheard. “Remember, Nicholas, manners and nicety are the orders of the day. Do not talk of the rebels, the hunt for the Holy Graal, or the recent return of Admiral Stuart. Above all, do not mention the prisoners.”
“Of course, my lord. Is it not I, the man of tact?” he laughed to himself in sarcasm. “When will my brother return?”
“He is on a patrol with the harbor fleet, but I expect him back before the night is through.”
By that time the drawbridge was lowered. There was a troop of twenty horsemen on the other side, waiting for an old barrel shepherd to pass by. In a moment he was gone and the horsemen came forward, led by a beautiful woman and a fiercesome man riding on an enormous black bear. They crossed the river, coming to a stop in front of Gylain and Montague. Both bowed.
“A pleasant surprise, madam,” Gylain said as the Queen of Saxony approached. “Come this way: the feast is prepared!”
He turned and led them through the massive gate and into the courtyard. A double-gate led into the castle, of which the second could not be opened unless the drawbridge was closed. Therefore, they stopped for a moment and surveyed the scene. All around the central tower that formed the castle was the courtyard. The entrance to the dungeon came out into the side of the courtyard, directly across from the clouded buildings. The castle tower was wider at its base than either its upper or lower sections, and the Great Hall was at the ground level, although its floor was raised ten feet from the ground outside. There was, accordingly, several large windows that began on the floor of the hall and reached a dozen feet above it. One of them came out directly above the dungeon door, ten feet from the ground. Fifty men were assembled in the courtyard. As she looked out upon their gleaming swords, Ivona began her first speech – written beforehand to set up their plans.
“I am impressed by the display of your power, Gylain, for even in Saxony we do not have such impregnable castles and such timely soldiers.”
It struck Gylain’s pride; he bowed low to show his gratitude.
“I would only desire one more thing, if I could be so imposing,” she continued.
“By all means, it would be my pleasure to fulfill your desires,” was the answer.
Ivona gave him one of her lovely smiles and continued. “I have heard about your catapults, that they are superior to those of Europe. Would you display them for me, tonight?”
“It will be done,” he bowed again. He turned to Leggett, who was behind him, and said, “Bring out the catapults and set them under that window,” he pointed to the large window near the dungeon door. “The queen can admire them as she eats.”
“How many, my lord?” Leggett asked, though he knew already what he was to do.
“All of them. There is room for twenty under the length of the windows, is there not?”
“Yes, I should think so.”
“Excellent. Will your men be joining the feast?” he asked the queen, giving the cloaked man who rode bear back a significant glance.
“Yes, we are tired from the ride.”
“Good, then let us go to the feast!”
With that, Gylain led the horse troop toward the door of the Great Hall.
Chapter 38
Meanwhile, in the Devil’s Door, Blaine and his men were exiting the secret passage. First Blaine came out. Then, once they were sure the guards were not around, the rest of them exited. There were five men in all each carrying two swords: one for themselves and one for the prisoners. Blaine held a torch instead. The room was dark and damp and though it was now lit by the torch its shadows were still deeply etched upon the face of the wall.
“Why do the men leave the passage, Blaine? Should we not leave the cell at once?” Alfonzo asked.
“We cannot, unfortunately. There are large patrols around the tunnel’s exit.”
“Yes, Nicholas Montague is back. He saw us come from it on that fateful night.”