Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Night’s Work

It had been thirty-six days since the defeat at Mern. After eighteen days of travel and limited stops for sleep, Girard, Changa, Emec, Maneau, and Donovan stood facing Etria. The hill they stood upon was about a mile from the West Bridge. Even so, the towers and buildings of the great city rose to impressive heights in the distance.

The midday sun was shining above Etria, highlighting the great city. Towers, buildings, and even its great walls shone brightly. Upon the towers and some of its highest buildings, its flags flapped proudly in the wind.

“Everyone must be patient and rest for the day. This rescue will only work after dark.” Girard led them into a thick pine forest half a mile from the bridge. Within the wood was a tangle of trees and brush, from which the center had been cunningly removed to provide a snug hideout. Donovan was impressed.

“This is home until it’s time to rescue Morgan. Once Donovan and I have her, we will escape with the princess in a boat, which has been left for us downstream from the mill,” Girard whispered. “Changa, you and Emec will accompany us there. You will wait in hiding until the three of us depart.”

“Maneau, it is roughly twelve miles downstream to the fisherman’s shack we showed you. You will wait for us there, with the horses. Changa and Emec, whatever you do, be careful and get to the cabin as quickly as possible,” Donovan whispered.

Changa and Emec both nodded.

“Most of the search parties looking for Morgan will be hunting in the city and along the roads closer to Etria, at first.” Donovan took a deep breath to relax, for he was eager to get Morgan out of Etria.

“Once Etria’s Royal Guard discovers Morgan is missing, the forests, roads, and everything in between will be filled with eyes and ears. This evening may turn out to be an interesting night, brother,” Changa said quietly with a smile.

Before midnight, Girard led Donovan, Changa, and Emec to a mill which stood alongside the Thunder River. Maneau had left four hours earlier, with the horses. Changa and Emec waited in hiding within a clump of trees nearby in case they were needed.

Carefully, Girard made his way down slippery limestone steps, besides the mills creaking wooden-wheel. The massive structure was kept turning by the force of the river’s current. At the bottom, was a flat limestone walkway made for maintaining the inner workings of the wheel.

Cunningly built into the stone wall, which was now facing them, was a masterpiece of engineering. The swordsman inserted the tip of his dagger in a narrow indentation covered with moss, and a metallic click sounded. To the side of the notch was a limestone slab, slightly shorter than Girard. With a gentle push, the stone slab swung aside, revealing a dark passageway. Moments later, they stood within a tunnel while Girard carefully closed the hidden door.

“Morgan taught me how to access a few secret tunnels. I never thought I would ever have to use one to help her escape from her father, the king.”

Amidst a cascade of sparks, a bit of dry tinder started to burn. A minute later, a small oil lamp sputtered to life, casting everything about them in dim golden light. They proceeded carefully down more stone steps and now stood upon a smooth stone floor. Moisture dripped steadily from the ceiling and down the walls, where it was channeled away by a narrow gutter along the base of each wall. Girard paused and turned towards him.

“This part of the passageway is damp; it used to be an old copper mine until it was all mined out. Somebody got the bright idea to turn it into an escape tunnel for the Royal Family. This part of the tunnel is beneath the river.”

For a fair distance, Girard and Donovan walked upon wet cut stones and managed to maintain their balance. Finally, the swordsman led the way up steps cut from solid bedrock into a passageway faced with carved limestone blocks. The tunnel continued for a short distance and opened into a small cavern. At the caves opposite end, a set of stone steps wound upward.

The steps led them to a small railed flagstone platform, facing what appeared to be a solid wooden wall. Quietly, Girard slid a narrow panel to the side, revealing a peephole through which he now looked. Moments later, he closed the aperture. The swordsman tapped Donovan on the shoulder and nodded, signaling all was clear.

Another small metallic click sounded, and the swordsman silently pushed another wooden panel open and carefully stepped into the empty hallway. The oil lamps had been turned down for the night. Closing the hidden panel behind them, Girard led the way to a closed-door, on the left side of the hallway. Quickly producing a key, the swordmaster unlocked and opened the door and stepped inside, with Donovan close behind.

“Stay here and listen for any patrolling guards,” Girard whispered while he quietly closed and locked the door behind them. Donovan stood there, listening.

Girard crossed the room to where Morgan lay asleep in bed. A few minutes passed before he returned. “It is as I feared, the stranger is keeping Princess Morgan sedated. There’s no telling when she’ll wake up. One of her chambermaids told Lieutenant Fieger she would gather some of Morgan’s clothes and her weapons for us to take.”

In the darkness, a slight shuffling noise betrayed Girard’s search for the items packed for Morgan. “Here it is.”

“Quiet, someone's approaching,” Donovan whispered.

The sound of the guards’ boots on the hallway floor approached steadily. For a moment, the footsteps paused in front of the door. Slowly, they receded once more. Girard grabbed the pack, while Donovan shouldered Morgan’s weight. As quietly as possible, the Sword Master unlocked and opened the door a c***k and carefully peered out. Motioning Donovan out of the room with his hand, he promptly closed and locked the door once more.

From behind them, someone shouted, signaling the return of the guard. The clashing of blades rang through the hall, as Girard blocked the guard’s advance. The swordsman ended the brief disturbance by rendering the guard unconscious.

Retracing their footsteps back to the entrance of the secret passageway, Girard tripped the mechanism once more. He opened the panel wide, allowing Donovan to struggle through while carrying Morgan. Swiftly, he followed suit and closed the panel shut. Almost immediately, the sound of guards running past, mixed with shouted orders, filled the air. Utter confusion and pandemonium reigned supreme in the hallway they had vacated.

“You can go ahead and rest for a few minutes. This part of the passageway is a little tricky. Once we’re at the bottom of the stone steps, I can help you.”

“I can barely hear her breathing, let alone tell her heart’s beating,” Donovan said in a lowered voice while listening carefully.

“The sleeping potion will wear off in time,” Girard whispered.

“Morgan, better wake up. I will never forgive myself if I brought her here to her death,” Donovan whispered.

“From what I’ve heard from Lieutenant Fieger, you never had much choice. What happened to Morgan is none of your doing. The enemy is responsible for all of this.”

Donovan rose once more to his feet. With Girard’s assistance, he again shouldered Morgan’s weight and started downward. When they finally reached the bottom of the winding stone steps, his legs were shaking from exhaustion. He eased the princess down to the floor, resting her head once more in his lap.

“We certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest up there. Fortunately, only a few people know of this tunnel’s whereabouts. One of them is now asleep with her head in your lap. Hopefully, for all our sakes, the king in his present condition will not be informed about Morgan’s absence, and no one will be the wiser,” Girard said while chuckling lightly.

After a short while, Girard stood and turned to Donovan. “From this point onward, the tunnel is wide enough for me to help assist you with the princess.”

With the two of them carrying Morgan between them, they made good time. Finally, they reached the entrance of the secret passageway to the mill. Girard paused momentarily to check through a peephole for danger and silently opened the hidden door. Carefully, they crept up the stone steps, while searching for any sign of danger. It was not as dark as it should have been. Approximately twenty yards in front of them sat a full dozen-guards upon horseback with torches. Donovan hoped Changa’s and Emec’s sharp eyesight had detected their movements. Much to the prince’s relief, a loud cry sounded a short distance beyond the trees where Changa and Emec stood watch.

The sound of galloping hooves and yelling voices successfully lured the guards away. As the guards charged after Changa and Emec, Donovan and Girard made their way down to a small dock, carrying Morgan. In the shadows, alongside the worn wooden structure, was a small dugout log-fishing boat. Lieutenant Fieger had been true to his word. Prince Donovan half-expected to hear an outcry, as they lay Morgan in the bottom of the vessel.

Less than two minutes later, they silently slipped away into the darkness upon the rivers flowing waters. In no time at all, the small dock was far behind them. Donovan adjusted the tiller, keeping them a respectful distance from shore while Girard watched for danger. So far, their journey had been an uneventful one; all was quiet save for waterfowl they spooked here and there. Etria, however, was filled with bedlam behind them, where great bells pealed, spreading the alarm. Several riders upon horseback were bearing torches, searching in groups and alone for them.

After drifting downriver for perhaps a couple of miles, Donovan saw Girard quietly stiffen. The swordsman was staring at some trees which grew along the riverbank. Try as he might, Donovan couldn’t see anything.

“Someone is hiding in those trees, watching us,” Girard whispered over his shoulder.

“How many are there?”

“I saw one upright figure sneak around a tree over there. We better put some more distance between the bank and us. Also, get down,” Girard whispered while slouching down lower in the boat himself.

No sooner had Donovan and Girard crouched lower in the boat when an arrow hissed by uncomfortably close overhead. Soon after, another struck the river and thudded into the side of the dugout. The second arrow was quickly followed by a third, which hissed behind them. The distance was increasing due to the current, and they were now passing around a bend in the river. In no time at all, it was evident they had left their attackers behind. Between the river’s current and the tangled undergrowth growing along the riverbank, any pursuer would have a hard time keeping up.

Morgan remained a dark, unmoving shape by Donovan’s feet at the bottom of the dugout boat. She stayed oblivious to the world. Prince Donovan found himself wishing she would move a twitch to indicate she was alright.

“Princess Morgan will be fine, my friend,” Girard said in a low voice.

Quietly, Donovan adjusted the tiller concentrating on the task at hand instead of letting his fears run rampant. He wouldn’t allow himself to relax until Morgan was once more inside Kandalare.