Moonstone, Magic That Binds (Book 1) (40 page)

BOOK: Moonstone, Magic That Binds (Book 1)
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Morio grabbed Creeden’s ear and pulled. “Right you are.”

Lotto smiled and headed up the attic. “You’ll have to take the stones away. We might fill up this room and make the floor collapse,” he said as he spread his hands on the wall.

Mortar flowed down like water, pooling at Lotto’s feet. He tried to work on one stone at a time, so they wouldn’t deal with broken toes from rocks falling out of the wall.

The morning turned into afternoon and by the time Lessa would be ready to invade, Lotto could see threads of light through the last little bit of the tunnel he had made, now looking at a thin wall of dressed light stone. That kind of facing would only be used in habitable spaces, so at least they had access and then he began to expand vertically to find a floor or ceiling.

The height of the wall was waist high, but Lotto opened up the little cavern so they wouldn’t have to crawl through. The castle wall had been eight feet thick. Blocks of stone sat on all four levels of the bakery. The time had just about come to invade the castle.

When they entered, they would head down to the dungeons. Shiro’s directions were sketchy at best. The Ropponi wizards had been confined to the eastern area, but Shiro had said that Restella’s cell had been in the southeast. Hopefully they’d be above it.

“Are you ready?” The men’s faces no longer held mirth as they checked their weapons. Lotto closed his fist around the battle staff and finished the last destruction of mortar. He braced his back on the wall and pushed. Stone bricks tumbled on the wooden floor and Lotto jumped into a library filled with books. Large half-round windows ten feet above them provided natural illumination. The others climbed up into the uninhabited room.

“Throw the stones back in and move one of the bookshelves in front. We may need to keep that hole for an escape route,” Lotto said and while the scouts covered up their work, Lotto looked frantically for plans to the inside of the castle.  He walked around the corner of shelving and saw diamond shaped shelves, hopefully holding rolled up maps.

Nark and he began to go through them when he poked Lotto in the ribs. “Here.” Nark held a roll of maps. He flipped through them showing the plans of the castle floor by floor from the bottom to the top.

Lotto called the men over. “What can we do with this?”

They all gazed down at the maps. Lotto found where Shiro had described his path to Restella’s cell. It matched up. He went through the maps. Just down the corridor outside of the keep’s library, where they stood, a small circular stairway wound up and down to all the levels. They could navigate through the castle without taking a step on the three major staircases.

“Where are the duke’s quarters?” Morio asked.

Pillo flipped the pages. “Up one level and to the north.” They were on the east side of the keep and Lotto frantically memorized different routes he could take. He’d make sure the Duke would pay once he found Restella.

“Can we do anything to the gate?” Morio said as they concentrated on the other side of the keep.

“Two of us need to go there first,” Lotto said. “If we can get unimpeded access to this room,” Lotto pointed to a room above the gates, “where the chains go over the gears, and jam them, then nothing will be able to stop Lessa.”

“Then I’ll take Anton and Creeden and rescue Restella,” Morio said. Lotto was about to contradict his friend and then he remembered the link. In the haste of the escape, he couldn’t risk touching her.

“Let’s see if she’s there.” The link activated immediately. Restella was… Lotto looked down at the map. “She’s in the duke’s quarters. We have to get her now!  Morio, do what you can at the gate. Pillo come with me.”

Lotto grabbed his battle staff and opened the door to the corridor. A few guards were casually talking as they ambled towards the circular staircase and Lotto ducked back in.

“There are two guards about at the staircase. Help us attack them, and then get to the gate.” He looked at the windows and saw a darkening sky. “We have no time. Lessa might now be running throught the city’s streets.”

He grabbed Pillo’s shirt as they exited the library. Lotto refused to turn around, even after the guards ran up to challenge him. Pillo turned after they heard the sounds of a scuffle and then clapped his hands together. “My brothers do such nice work.” He grinned.

Lotto didn’t feel like grinning. He could only think of one reason why Restella now stood in the duke’s chambers.

~~~

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

~

T
HE WANING AFTERNOON SUN BEGAN TO SHINE
in her window. Restella figured on one more hour of daylight. The guard had said ‘evening’. They would come for her soon. She paced in the room and exercised as well as she could with her hands bound. Perhaps she could fight the man off, but sorely missed the Moonstone sword at her waist. She looked for anything that could be a weapon in her cell and found nothing of use, unless a short straw shaft would do anything.

A guard came and cut the bonds at her wrists so she could put the dress on. The stupid man stood at the door leering at her. She went into a corner out of his sight and changed clothes. A fabric belt cinched up the front, so she tucked a few long pieces of the thickest straw into the belt. What could she do with something not quite as stiff as a stick? Her makeshift weapons didn’t give her any additional confidence, but they might be useful. She wondered where Lotto might be and tapped into the link. He was above her somewhere, maybe even in the castle or close by. She couldn’t tell, but having him close fueled her hope.

Sitting on the stone bench, she fidgeted with her hands and wondered what she could have done differently. The only thing she discovered was how frustrated she could become. Silver had positioned her this way and that way. His guidance had helped her become a credible commander, and she still felt that she possessed leadership skills, but her two biggest failures were at his hand and that is where she had failed to understand that she had to make her own decisions and not rely on blind faith alone.

She shook her head, discounting that thought. Blind faith gave one hope and courage when there might be no other source and every decision carried risk and the threat of failure. She had never thought of the risk of poor advice and she vowed never to… what was she thinking? Her death might await her in the duke’s chambers. She faced torture, perhaps with Silver to look on, gloating about her fecklessness.

She didn’t fear death, but the emotions of her perilous position began to overcome her and unbidden tears began again and dripped on the dark red silk. She couldn’t rely on Lotto to be her strength. She’d have to rely on her own, as she always had done.

The door opened and two guards entered. One carried black silken cords. “I see that we didn’t have to dress you. Our misfortune.” The other guard sighed and they both laughed at the taunt. “One for your wrists and another for your ankles,”

The guard bent over and hobbled her tying her ankles about a foot and a half apart. The wrists were bound tightly together. The man tied admirable knots, Restella admitted. They yanked her outside into the corridor and one led while the other followed.

Castle-dwellers stared as the tiny procession made their way through the keep.  The sun’s final rays lit up their path, casting ominous shadows along the keep’s cold stone floors. Not quite evening, Restella thought, as she tried to blank her mind. Up they went until they were on the third level above the castle’s ground floor. Silver stood outside of a door. Lotto was somewhere back the way she came, but she couldn’t pinpoint where. Could he be in the keep?

“So it’s time for a meeting with the duke. He’ll hardly talk strategy,” Silver said. Restella looked into his eyes and didn’t see the gloating she expected, but refused to respond. She merely looked the other way.

“The duke commanded me to stand guard. He thinks it’s an honor, but I think it’s a punishment. I didn’t want you to end up this way,” Silver said.

“Is that an apology? If it is, you’re a little late.” Restella said, her face still turned away and then she thought of her strength and looked at Silver. “Thank you for helping me at the beginning. It’s too bad your tutoring comes at such a high price to me.” She felt anger overtake her and she wanted to say more, but the door opened.

“My little sweetness,” Duke Happly said, holding her chin. “Say goodbye to your old friend. You won’t be the same woman that leaves my chamber.” He yanked on the bindings and pulled her into his chambers. She couldn’t gather her feet underneath her and she fell to the floor. “Before I subjugate your father, I will subjugate your father’s daughter.”

Restella wanted to run the man through. Here was all of the gloating malevolence she had thought Silver might have done in front of her. The duke, powerfully built, still stood shorter than Restella. She rose from the floor and put her hands to her belt.

“I have the Moonstone.” The duke looked on a bench by the window where the sword still lay in its scabbard. “I’m sure you would like to feel it in your hands, but that won’t do for now. There are other things I want to touch.”

She had no difficulty following what the duke meant. He came closer and put his hands on her shoulders. She grabbed two straws and jammed them into the duke’s nostrils. Blood came out along with the straws as the man actually whimpered in pain. Restella stood resolute, but the duke wound his right shoulder back and slammed his fist into her own nose before she could dodge the blow. Her face exploded with pain and she shouted out Lotto’s name, surprising herself despite it all, for the brief moment before blackness came.

~~~

 

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY

~

L
OTTO LEFT
P
ILLO BEHIND
as they encountered two guards walking down the broad stone stairs to the Duke’s level. He used the staff horizontally to push both of them to the ground and bludgeoned one while Pillo cut the throat of the other. He ran up the stairs to find Silver listening in at a door. Those were the duke’s quarters.

“Haven’t you been paid enough gold?” Lotto asked. Pillo ran up behind him as the alarm in the palace went out that an army had invaded the city.

“Not gold, Lotto Mistad,” Silver said as he pulled out his sword. “Glory and power.” He attacked Lotto with his sword while pulling a knife from a sheath hidden by his back.

Lotto slashed with the sharp end of the staff and ripped the fabric of Silver’s tunic, revealing the chain mail shirt below. He slashed at him again, keeping the man at bay. Lotto never had any trouble with a sword against his staff, but a man with two blades in his hand could get to him as he recalled the guard who had pierced his hand at Mountsea.

Lotto twirled his weapon as Silver kept back. Pillo called to him that guards were coming. Lotto waved his staff until he changed places with Silver in the corridor. The ex-ranger now fought with Lotto at his front and Pillo fighting guards at his back. The day’s light began to fade as sparks from Silver’s blades on the staff began to brighten.

What could keep the duke from seeing what happened outside his door? With Restella inside, he fought with renewed energy. Lotto pushed Silver back, but saw Pillo about to be overcome with guards. He took two steps back and threw the staff, poker end first into a guard. The staff went through Pillo’s opponent and knocked the one behind to the ground.

Silver turned to watch the path of the staff while Lotto quickly pulled out his own blades and took a different fighting stance.

“Serytaran.” Silver said. The older man seemed winded, but Lotto had seen Kenyr use the same ploy. Silver attacked him with the expected vigor. Their blades sang in the air while the clashes of battle began to reverberate all the way to this part of the castle.

Lotto couldn’t afford another break in concentration as Silver slipped his knife across his shoulder. Pushing his opponent back, he checked to find his mail shirt had fended off the blade and presented a different stance to Silver, who furrowed his brow.

“Hamkand Elite,” Lotto announced his stance. It only took him three steps into that particular fighting sequence before Silver had lost his edge and Lotto plunged his sword into his chest puncturing through the chain mail.

Lotto kicked the man away and used the mortar spell on the door. He’d never tried it on wood before, but the thought of termites came to him and the wood began to dissipate into sawdust. His mouth opened in horror as he saw the duke on top of Restella, choking the princess of Valetan. Lotto wasted no time. The duke didn’t deserve any kind of chance. Lotto ran him through from the back and threw the Duke of Happly off of Restella.  The man had blood streaming down from his nose.  Restella lay still on the bed with blood of the Duke all over her dress.  Lotto didn’t hesitate to cut the duke’s throat.

Lotto fought through his fear of touching Restella.  He found a carafe of water and washed off Restella’s face and cleaned the blood off of her to see if any were hers, only to discover a broken nose and the bruising at her neck. Her pulse faint, he could barely detect any breathing. Lotto had to fight away tears as he held the princess in his arms. Had he come too late to save her? The duke had throttled her as evidenced by a face full of bruises, not to mention her broken nose. Fighting continued outside, but all of his thoughts were on the woman linked to him. He carried her body to the window seat and sat down, noticing the Moonstone sword.

Lessa stuck his head on the room, “We’ve taken over!” The Prolan looked at the body of the duke.

Lotto didn’t care and waved him away. He held Restella in his arms, castigating himself for not arriving sooner. He sat on the Moonstone sword.

“Was it worth it, Restella? We touched and nothing happened, did it?” When her breathing stopped, he could hardly breathe himself through the unexpected grief that he felt. Her skin felt unexpectedly smooth for someone who had spend the better part of three years in the field as he pulled up the sleeve of her dress that had fallen off her shoulder, and saw a battle scar. He sighed again and, holding her bruised neck, feeling the link fade. The sword’s hilt jammed into his bottom, so he grabbed the sword’s hilt to remove it, putting his thumb on the stone, the first time he had touched the thing since that night in Jessie’s cottage.

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