Racing for the door, Bart opened it just as guards began emerging into the hallway from the room he had originally entered. The lord and magic user were among them. “Stop where you are!” the lord commanded.
Bart paid him no heed as he raced down the hallway. Servants who had been attracted by the commotion were milling about until they saw Bart emerge and start racing toward them. With a scream, they fled at his approach.
He had to get to the hallway where he had smelled the jakes. If there was any way out of this, it was through them. His father had once joked about the time he had used them to escape a particularly tight situation. He said Bart’s mother hadn’t allowed him in the house for a week afterward. Bart hoped these were similar in nature to the ones his father had used.
Suddenly, a roaring sound came from behind him and he threw himself to the floor. A searing ball of flame flew through the space where his upper torso had been but a second ago. Its passing left his clothes and hair smoking.
Once it was past, he leaped back to his feet and raced forward. Just ahead lay the hallway down which were the jakes. Two servants emerged from the hallway and he bowled into them, knocking them down.
He somehow retained his balance and lurched into the converging hallway. The odor of the jakes was barely perceptible, but there. Moving down, he saw the door which hid the jakes from view. Behind him, guards had appeared at the mouth of the hallway and were charging in pursuit.
Bart ran the short distance to the door of the jakes and threw them open. Two wooden seats sat over an open pit that, if it was built similar to the one his father had used for an escape, would enable him to reach the bowels of the castle. If he hadn’t of been fleeing for his life, he might have enjoyed the pun more. He entered and shut the door behind him. Throwing the simple latch to give him a few more seconds, he threw up the seats and paused.
The nastiness of what he was about to do finally hit home. But when the guards started pounding on the door, he swallowed his gorge and moved to enter the jakes. They were six feet by two and a half, barely wide enough for him to enter. Descending away into darkness, he couldn’t tell how far below the bottom was.
Trying to ignore the slime that coated the interior of the stone shaft, at least he hoped it was slime, Bart gripped the side of the jakes and climbed into them. He lowered himself until he was hanging as far down as he could go. Breath came in gasps as the smell was nigh on overpowering.
There were no handholds in the sides of the shaft, most likely intentional to prevent anyone from gaining entry to the castle in this manner. He tried bracing himself against the sides, but the slime coating was too slick, and he couldn’t get a purchase.
Bam!
Above him, the door to the jakes burst open. Having no other recourse, he let go of the upper lip of the shaft and began sliding down. Bracing himself against the sides with his hands and feet, he was able to slow his descent. Funky gunk oozed between his fingers as he slowly descended, all the while, he kept his eyes riveted to what was transpiring at the top of the jakes.
“My lord!” a guard exclaimed. “He’s not here.”
“What?” the lord replied.
It didn’t take long before a light appeared at the top of the jakes and a guard’s face appeared. “He’s in there milord,” said the guard.
“Allow me, my lord,” the magic user said.
When Bart saw the magic user peer down the shaft, he knew he was in trouble. As soon as the first arcane word was spoken by the magic user, Bart stopped all attempts at slowing his fall. Letting go of the sides of the shaft, he plummeted into darkness.
Above him, the words of the magic user followed him down until an intense red light appeared. Bart saw death coming towards him as another fireball shot down the shaft. There was nowhere he could go.
Chapter Fourteen
Though it seemed like forever, he fell for only a few more seconds before emerging from the narrow shaft. A moment of freefalling then his feet connected with water. The momentum of his fall had him submerged in the blink of an eye. No sooner had his head gone under, than the fireball exploded upon the surface, an intensely bright blast that lasted for only a second.
The water was deep, about nine feet with a mild current that pulled at him. Kicking hard from the bottom, he broke the surface and took in a ragged breath. The air was oppressively hot and smelled of charred human waste, the stench was almost overpowering. He must be in an underground waterway that took the outfall from the jakes to the lake.
In the darkness of the sewer, he began to detect a very faint light coming from downstream, around a bend in the channel. Where there’s light, there may be a way out. Swimming with the current, he headed for it. With any luck, those in the castle above would believe the fireball had killed him. But he had long since learned that one couldn’t trust to such things. A man tended to make his own luck. He needed to get out of there before anyone thought to come see if he was in fact dead.
As he swam with the current he grew ever more certain the light he was seeing was in fact sunlight. Drawing closer to where the water once again emerged to the outside world, his hopes of a quick escape were soon to be dashed. For just before where the waterway emerged into the open, a wall of thick iron bars set six inches apart blocked the entrance. Bart ceased swimming as soon as he saw them. Instead, he allowed the current to carry him forward as he sought another way out.
Both sides of the waterway were stone and rose sheer all the way to the ceiling. The ceiling had been left rough when they hewed the tunnel, but it was solid without any openings through which he might escape.
The current carried him to the bars where he took hold of them and contemplated his situation. He tried moving the bars through brute strength, but he couldn’t budge them. Then he checked beneath the water to see if there was an opening. After several dives beneath the surface, he concluded that there was no way out at this end. Looking back at the dark interior from which the water issued, he realized that he was trapped.
It had been a couple hours since their return from the wine merchant’s shop. They had spent the time gathered in Riyan’s room going over what they knew, and what they hoped Bart would discover.
Chyfe had come up with the suggestion that maybe they should hunt for ruins similar to those found on the island near Catha. “Until we gain information that points in a certain direction,” he concluded, “I don’t know what else we can do?”
“Soth and I could make discreet inquires about town,” offered Seth.
Riyan nodded. “If anyone was to do it, it would have to be you two,” he said.
“I haven’t seen anything that could remotely be considered old enough to date from the time of the King,” Kevik stated.
“Neither have I,” agreed Chad. “Maybe we could ride around the countryside and look?”
Riyan shook his head. “We are supposed to be agents for a wine merchant,” he argued. “It would hardly be credible for us to do such things.”
“It was just a thought,” replied Chad.
“You know…” Kevik began then came to a stop as something tugged at his mind. Focusing inward, he heard Bart’s voice shout, Kevik!
Bart? he replied. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the ring through which Bart’s thoughts were being sent.
I’m in serious trouble, Bart told him.
What happened? asked Kevik.
Riyan noticed the look that came over Kevik. “Kevik?” he asked. When there was no response, he said to the others, “Bart must be speaking with him.”
“Trouble do you think?” asked Chyfe.
Riyan nodded. “Probably. We’ll know soon enough,” he told the others. The room grew quiet as everyone turned toward Kevik.
I was discovered, Bart explained. I don’t know how, but they knew I was there. He then sent a vision of the
