The Shadow Throne
Page 12

Whatever it was, by the squeamish expression on his face, I already didn’t like it.
“Mott warned us you might come,” he continued. “If you did, he asked us to remind you of your responsibilities for the safety of the kingdom. Not for him, or the lady Imogen.”
Which was a fine idea, except that Mott’s capture had just become the biggest threat to the safety of my kingdom. Also, I had never obeyed Mott before. I couldn’t think of any reason to start now.
“We have to get both of them back,” I said. “You have no idea where Imogen is being held?”
Evendell started to apologize and shake his head, but Herbert lifted his arm and pointed straight ahead. I followed his line to see a group of Avenian soldiers emerge from a tent deep inside the camp. In the center of that group was Imogen, her hands bound and mouth gagged. She seemed uninjured, which was a relief, and the gag didn’t really surprise me. Although we were friends, she’d still scolded me often enough. I could only imagine the blistering words she’d have for an enemy.
My panic rose when I saw Mott being led from the tent Evendell had pointed out. His hands were also bound, and he was limping. For anyone else, the number of blades on him would’ve been too much. But not for Mott. He was strong and fast, and if there were any fewer weapons, he could’ve fought them all and won.
From a third position in the camp, I saw a man walk forward with a barbed whip in his hands. His purpose immediately became clear. Mott would be asked questions about Carthya’s strategies in the war. If he refused to answer, that whip would be used on Imogen. They would force Mott to talk, or things would get worse. Much worse.
Reinforcing my fears, once Imogen and Mott were brought together into a small clearing, he was made to sit in a chair where more ropes went around his arms and feet. The soldiers escorting Imogen turned her to face a crude whipping post, then began retying her arms separately on each side of the wood.
Quickly, I turned to Evendell and Herbert. “Which of you is better with the bow?”
Evendell cocked his head and I told him to build a small fire and then gave him his instructions. Herbert was to come with me. He and I ran down the hill into a narrow valley of the camp, using the growing evening shadows to keep us hidden.
The closer we drew, the more we became aware of the bustle everywhere inside the camp. Vigils stood watch both at the gates and at elevated posts, and were stationed beside several tents within the camp. It would be impossible to get much closer without being spotted and likely shot.
Everything that happened next would have to be done quickly. Herbert nocked an arrow and moved into position. Hopefully, Evendell hadn’t lost us in the waning light and would be watching too.
I was spotted soon after I began running for a quiet area of the wall. An Avenian at watch called out for me to stop, but a whoosh hissed through the air and Herbert’s arrow found him. Others would be alerted now, but I didn’t need much more time.
At the wall’s base, I reached into the sack of gunpowder I’d stolen earlier that day. I withdrew a generous amount and laid it in a heap, then ran away as quickly as I could. Seconds later, Evendell sent a flaming arrow directly onto the heap. The gunpowder instantly exploded the entire wall. I was thrown off my feet and rolled behind a nearby rock to protect myself from falling debris. When the worst had passed, I peeked over at the collapsed wall and widely scattered wreckage. Perhaps I’d used too much gunpowder that time.
I went at a full sprint back toward the wall. Those who had survived began shouting for help, but Herbert remained watchful and fired off arrows at anyone who took notice of me. Once inside, I realized there was far more attention being paid to the destruction of the wall than the cause of it. If I kept my head down, I would be able to pass right through the crowd.
I climbed the ladder of an abandoned watchtower until I could see Mott and Imogen. The soldiers with them had gathered in close to guard their prisoners, or perhaps to protect one another. There were more than I could fight, and far too many people who could hurt my friends before I could stop them.
I climbed down again and took shelter behind a building to consider my next move. A quick glance inside the nearest window revealed it was full of weapons, in my opinion far more than Avenia needed. I dumped more of the gunpowder next to the building and then ran as if my life depended on it. Mostly because, well, it did. Just as had happened before, I wasn’t nearly far enough away before a flaming arrow hit it and the building exploded. This time, I didn’t shelter myself as well and got a nasty scrape on one arm, not to mention a chunk of rock nearly landed on me. If both Evendell and I survived this, we would have to discuss his timing when explosives were involved.
By then, general chaos had erupted in the camp. Soldiers were being ordered to the places I’d already destroyed, but several others were running as far from it as they could get. The confusion helped me, but what I really needed was to get at the soldiers around Mott and Imogen.
So my last use of gunpowder went to another nearby supply building, this one full of food and blankets. I left the entire bag beside it, and then gave a signal to Evendell. This time, he allowed me more distance before he lit the explosive. When it blew, I heard orders for all available soldiers to surround the camp and prepare for an invasion.
I rather liked that. My invasion had already happened, and the thing I wanted most was for them to clear out the center and move to the flanks of their camp.
A hand tapped my shoulder and I turned to see Herbert next to me. All I had asked of him was to stay in a safe position where he could pick off anyone who prevented my entrance into the camp. But he had gone beyond that and followed me inside. I nodded at him in thanks for his loyalty and motioned for him to come with me.
Mott and Imogen had not been entirely abandoned. One young soldier stood behind Mott’s chair with a crude sword pressed against his prisoner’s chest, waiting for whatever terror he expected to come at him. Two other larger soldiers guarded Imogen. The man with the whip and the remaining soldiers had been ordered away.
I quietly instructed Herbert to position himself with a solid view of Imogen while I prepared to sneak up behind Mott. Our timing would have to be perfect, and Herbert would have to be fast because he had two targets.
The instant I crept from the shadows, Herbert fired his first arrow, hitting one of Imogen’s vigils. By then I was directly behind the boy standing watch over Mott. With my left hand, I brought a knife to his neck, as my right hand steadied his arm holding the blade against Mott’s chest. The boy stiffened, and without a word I pulled that arm back and lowered it. When I looked up again, Herbert had downed the second soldier beside Imogen. He would now watch this area until Mott and Imogen were free.
The boy behind Mott released his sword into my hand carefully and squeaked, “Please don’t kill me.”
My memory flew back to several months ago, when the orphan Latamer had begged me for the very same favor. I had never intended any harm toward Latamer, and not toward this boy either.
With my knife still at the boy’s neck, I told him that if he tried any tricks, an arrow was already nocked with his name on it. He agreed to cooperate and I ordered him to untie Mott.
While he worked, Mott said, “I’m sorry, Jaron. The trap was for me.”
“We were both tricked.”
“I knew it was you when I heard those explosions.”