“You there, driver,” Patrick called out, “Ten crowns if you fly as the wind! To the docks!”
The driver – a stale old man – started back in his chair and turned to face them.
“I have lived to see ten kings,” he said, “But never ten crowns!” and he spurred the hairy horse until it could go no faster. Even then the cart knocked the passers-by over, as if they were but weeds by the roadside. There was nowhere to run in the narrow streets. Yet danger is the mother of genius and poverty the father of the French. None of the peasants were injured.
Meanwhile de Casanova, Vladimir, and the half dozen soldiers were at a full gallop. The pilfered peasants were looking at the cart to see who had bounced them, and when the soldiers came through everything was upset again. They were slowed by the tumult that followed.
“Through them,” shouted the chevalier, “We have larger beasts to slay!” He dug his heels into his horse’s flanks. The beast dove into the crowd. The peasants were thrown aside, though still they saved themselves from harm.
“Death to the king!” some of them shouted, though they hid their faces even as they offered rebellion.
Yet the soldiers took no notice of them – they were foreign soldiers with a foreign mission. Rather, they followed de Casanova and the escaping cart. Their gallop far surpassed the wagon’s, and after a moment the fugitives came into view. They were half way down a long lane of houses that emptied into the customs house. It was a long, low rectangle with one end in the docks and one in the city.
“Vladimir,” de Casanova called out as they charged, “Take three men and circle around to the other end of the avenue. If we can trap them between us the battle will begin. So fly – fly like the anger of a prince, lest it come for you!” And Vladimir did, rushing forward at a deadly speed.
“Our horse is tiring,” de Garcia whispered to Patrick and Leggitt, who were looking back at the troop of horsemen thundering down the lane.
“Yes, and the promise of money will not motivate that poor beast,” Leggitt added, turning around and glancing at the driver. “Are you clever enough to have ten crowns?”
“Clever enough to say so,” and Patrick winked at his companions, who returned it with a laugh.
“A bad time for joking, children,” sneered the blue-eyed Lydia. Then she turned and her hazel visage said, “Yet laughter eases pain. Be glad the old man does not hear.” Indeed, the fat-eyed driver leaned forward on his bench and laid a challenge to the customs house, daring it to flee him.
Yet the horsemen were but ten yards away and quickly coming up. The row of buildings continued without a break in either direction. The customs house blocked the lane in front of them. The only escape was through the building itself or through a narrow lane to its right. But for them, neither was open.
“We are trapped!” Leggitt yelled, “They have circled around!”
Vladimir and his men charged through the narrow lane. Then they came to a stop in front of the customs house. The driver stopped the horse, having no where to turn, and de Casanova and the other soldiers formed a circle around the wagon, with de Casanova standing between the fugitives and the customs house. There were eight with de Casanova, as opposed to five in the cart, one of whom was an old man and another an unarmed woman.
“I cannot be defeated, Patrick,” and de Casanova dismounted and drew his sword, “In love or in war. Come, Lydia, return to my side.”
Lydia looked at them, her blue side facing de Casanova and her hazel Patrick. For a time she was silent, as if in deep thought, then she spoke in a hurry: “No, you are mistaken, old man. For I am already with my lover!” Blood charged into her face and its paleness retreated until it became as livid as her glowing hair. She went to Patrick’s side, holding herself with the grace of a princess, and sat down upon the hay with as much bearing as if she were a queen returning to her throne.
De Casanova was equally as livid, though from anger rather than love. “So it will be,” he whispered hoarsely, “I send you to death, my love,” and he raised his sword to carry out his threat.
But he was stopped by a solemn voice from behind him, from the steps of the customs house. “Silence, there! By whose right do you lift your sword, vagabond? By king or by tyrant? If by the first, I command you to heave away and flee to your den. But if by the second, then I command you to turn your face to me, for I dislike to strike down a man from behind!”
De Casanova spun around, as did his still-mounted soldiers. There, standing between them and the customs house, were four shrouded figures, hidden behind their dark robes. The first was over six feet tall and of equal girth. The second was only average in height, but he held himself with the strength of a king. The third was slender and curved, beautiful even when disguised. The forth was short and somewhat stocky, but he held himself with a strange courage. As they looked on, the fourth figure threw off his hood and revealed his face to those before him. Vladimir jumped back. His horse reared from the terror of its rider. Even the stolid de Casanova stepped backward, raising his drawn sword involuntarily to a defensive position. The figure only laughed.
“I am loyal, without a doubt,” it said, “But you are dead!”
Chapter 52
Sometime before this, in the Atiltian forest, there was a flurry of activity at the rebel city. In the shaded meadow beneath the four Great Goliaths, a train of wagons and carts stood waiting to enter the tunnel that led to the city above. The grass there was but ankle-high and the sun only came down through a spotlight the rebels had made, a beam that illuminated the waiting area below. The citizens of Eden with ties to the rebellion feared for their lives and property after the attack on the Castle Plantagenet, and crowded to the city for protection. There they were welcomed, but as the only entrance to the city above was a narrow underground tunnel and a steep climb, it was many days before they could all enter. In the meantime, there was a small, nomadic settlement on the meadow below the canopy.
A wide, spiraling tunnel was delved within one of the massive trees, circling around the heartwood into which the rebels never cut. From the underground tunnel that led to the base of the tree-tunnel, those entering the rebel city traveled upward two hundred feet until they reached the entrance hall that led between the tunnel and the city proper. This hall also wrapped around the center of the tree, but was wider and level. Therefore, it was easily divided into sections, through which an entering person had to pass: in all, a circle with the center filled and the rest broken into three sections that were separated by uncarved walls. These divisions were partly commercial and partly governmental. The first quadrant of the hall was a passport area, with a strong guard to prevent the entrance of spies. The second quadrant was a bazaar, with a host of merchants on hand to buy the goods of those coming in with the view of taking them above to the main market and selling them. For those without a private rope route, it was difficult to have wares hauled to the upper sections of the city. The third and largest quadrant was the stables, in which the animals were kept, for they could not walk the Treeway safely.
The third quadrant opened to the city outside, to the Treeway that connected it all together. It was a road made of sturdy planks attached to the branches. At this point it wound around the outsides of the trees in the same manner as the tree-tunnel had wound around the inside. Along this road were doors, each leading into a room delved into the tree. After the initial tunnel, the city was not connected within the trees: only the Treeway brought the rooms and structures together.