In the moonlight they quietly slipped from tree to bush to tree and then to the low stone wall surrounding the mansion, Gwyd leading the way, for he knew every nook and cranny and rock and plant on the laird’s manor grounds. As they crouched by the wall, and as Gwyd peered through a slot where a brick was missing, Liaze softly said, “Tell me, Gwyd, with Trolls and Redcaps about, how think you the farmsteads nearby deal with such?”
Without taking his gaze away from the manor, Gwyd said, “I would think they ne’er go out alone at night-in fact put up barricades and stay wi’in-and they are nae doubt weel armed by now.”
Liaze nodded and said, “My thoughts exactly. Yet, were these Trolls and Goblins in my demesne, I would take a warband and clean out this vipers’ nest. Is there no one nearby to do the same?”
“ ’Twould hae been the laird’s t’do, f’r he was the first one raided and taken by surprise.”
“Were there no guards posted?”
Gwyd shook his head. “ ’Twasn’t needed ere the Trolls came, and then it were too late.-And speakin o’ guards, there do be a Redcap makin rounds.”
Gwyd moved aside and let Liaze peer through the slot. In the moonlight a Goblin shuffled alongside the building.
Liaze and Gwyd waited and watched, and finally, after several rounds, they determined that this Redcap seemed to be the only sentry.
“We’ll wait until he turns the corner on his next pass,” said Gwyd, “then we’ll make f’r the door t’the root cellar.”
“The root cellar?”
“Aye, it connects t’the wine cellars, and they in turn lead up and in. And we can slip through the halls and t’the second floor and t’the laird’s study, f’r that be where the elixir be kept as weel as the crystal decanters. Too, ma own quarters be in the cellars, and that’s where ma harp lies, assumin o’ course they have nae melted it adown f’r the silver it bears.”
“And the red scarf?”
“Next t’the laird’s study there be a dressin’ room, and several should be inside.”
“Ha, then, the most dangerous part is getting from the cellar to the study and back, eh?”
“Aye.”
“Then let’s have at it, my friend.”
As they waited, Gwyd said, “It be nae meet t’blame the laird f’r nae bein ready. He took a bad wound in his escape, and where he went I know not. But I hae nae doubt as soon as he be mended, he’ll be out raisin a warband. Yet all his weapons and armor and such lie in yon manor, and it’ll take a bit o’ time t’gather up the men and the gear he needs in order t’-take this place back and t’slay all o’ those what took it away in the first place.”
Finally the sentry passed once more, and the moment he rounded the turn, across the lawn they zigzagged, keeping to shade and bush, Liaze with an arrow nocked and a rucksack at her side, Gwyd with Liaze’s scabbard at his waist and her long-knife in hand, the blade a sword to one of his stature.
They came to a slanted cellar door, and, as Liaze stood watch, Gwyd haled on the handle, but it didn’t budge. “Garn! It be barred fra inside.”
Liaze glanced ’round and up. “We can climb to the balcony.”
“Aye,” said Gwyd, and he sheathed the long-knife and up a trellis he scrambled.
Liaze slipped her arrow back into the quiver, and slung her bow, and followed.
Just as she swung her leg across the balustrade, “Oi!” came a call from below. It was the Redcap guard. And he stood gaping up at them.
In the moonshadow, Liaze whipped her bow off her shoulder even as the sentry took a deep breath to shout.
“Foe!” he yelled. SsssThock! The arrow took him in the throat, and he fell clutching his neck, a bubbling gargle now his cry. Momentarily his feet drummed the sod, and then he fell still.
In the near distance sounded a door opening.
“Come, quickly,” hissed Gwyd, and he stepped to the glass doors, but they were locked. Liaze jabbed a leather-clad elbow into a pane, and it shattered. Gwyd reached through and twisted the handle, and they slipped into the darkened room.
By moonlight they crossed the chamber, and Gwyd stood with his ear to the door, listening.
From outside the manor there came a deep call: ’twas the voice of a Troll.
Footsteps went running past in the hall just beyond the door.
Silence followed.
Gwyd opened the panel a crack and peered outward. “Now!” he hissed, and he stepped into the corridor.
Down the passageway he ran, Liaze following, and he darted into a chamber. Liaze came after, and Gwyd stood, his fists clenched in rage, peering at a large desk. “Those bloody fools!”
In the moonlight on the desk Liaze saw a jumble of papers and a heap of coins-gold, silver, bronze-next to an empty crystal vessel lying on its side and another standing upright, with their stoppers and a crystal bar lying between. “What is it, Gwyd?”
“Knobbleheads! They’ve drunk all the elixir.”
Liaze groaned.
“Stupidly thinkin, no doubt,” said Gwyd, “ ’twas nought but apple brandy.”
“What can we do?”
“The decanters are here and unharmed”-he took up the crystal bar and examined it-“as well as the bridge, and can we get some more o’ the golden apples, we’ll be all right.” Liaze drew squares of cloth from the rucksack at her side, and Gwyd capped and wrapped each decanter separately and then the bar and slipped them into the bag. Then he laded fistfuls of coins onto another square and tied it tightly so as not to jingle and slipped the improvised purse into the rucksack, saying, “We ne’er ken when treasure might be needed.”
On the grounds outside there was a hue and cry and a thrashing about of bushes.
“The red scarf,” said Liaze, and Gwyd stepped to a hidden door and within the chamber beyond, and a moment later he emerged with a scarlet length of winter neckwear. Into the rucksack it went.
“Now f’r ma harp.”
In the yard a Troll roared and Goblins squealed, as the search for intruders went on.
Back into the corridor went Gwyd and Liaze, blade in hand and arrow nocked. Gwyd ran to a stairwell and listened, then darted downward, Liaze running quietly after.
Down they went to the first floor and along a short hallway there. And then down more steps they ran, and they came into the cellars. Gwyd hissed, “Wait,” and after a moment and the sound of a striker, light seeped out through a crack of a hooded lantern. Broken wine bottles were strewn about the floor and sacks of supplies were torn open. Cursing at the mess, Gwyd quickly strode to a small door and opened it and stepped within, while Liaze again stood ward without. In moments Gwyd emerged with a small silver harp. It, too, went into the rucksack.
“Now t’escape,” said Gwyd, and he led Liaze to another door.
They entered a root cellar, with tubers and leeks and beets and other such hanging from ceiling beams, and jars of preserves on shelves within. A short set of steps led up to a slanted door barred on the inside by a heavy beam. Together they slid the timber out from the brackets and set it aside.
“Wait,” said Liaze, unlooping the heavily laden rucksack from over her shoulder and setting it down. “We need to draw them away from the grounds. Give me the lantern, and I’ll take care of that.”
“What be ye goin t’do, Princess?”
“Start a fire on the first floor.”
“In ma laird’s manor?”
“Oui.”
Gwyd groaned but handed Liaze the lantern.
Away she ran on light feet, and up the stairs to the first floor. She stepped into a room-a dining hall-and went to a window facing the yard where the Redcap was slain. Flanking the window were ensconced lamps. Quickly she pulled one down and emptied its oil on the drapery. Then she took the other lantern and lit it and set the curtains aflame. Whoosh! Fire roared up the cloth, and Liaze hurled the second lantern crashing through the window and shouted, “Oi, uglies, I’m in here!”
