magic user still had resting on his palm. “Aha!” he exclaimed.
“You found him?” asked the River Man with a glance to the now active purplish ball.
The magic user nodded. “I will in a moment,” he stated. Slowing his pace, he turned his attention more fully on the ball. The River Man and the sub-captain likewise slowed their pace to see what the magic user could discover.
“He’s close,” he told his lord a moment later. Moving the hand that held the ball, he slowly waved it back and forth in front of him. When his hand finally came to a stop, he pointed in the direction his hand had stopped and said, “He’s that way.”
It took only a split second for the sub-captain to exclaim, “The stables!”
The River Man broke into a run as he raced for the exit followed closely by the sub-captain. The magic user continued at his slower pace, all the while keeping his attention focused on the ball and the information it was giving him. “He’s on the move,” he said before looking up and realizing he was alone in the corridor. His lord and the sub-captain had left him behind.
Running to catch up, he found the outer courtyard to be in a frenzied state of activity. Men raced to and fro as they hunted for the intruder. He looked for his lord and found him already halfway to the stables. As the magic user moved to follow his lord, he kept his attention focused on the purplish ball.
“My lord!” he hollered loud enough to cut through the din.
The River Man paused and glanced back.
“He’s no longer there,” the magic user stated.
“Where is he?” demanded the River Man.
Men in the area grew still and quiet as they waited for the answer.
Again seeking the source of magic the ball was detecting, he finally came to realize it was coming from the guard tower. Pointing to it, he said, “There!” Then all of a sudden, he felt something strike his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached for the point of impact and was surprised to pull away a small dart. “What?” he asked in confusion. Then the world grew fuzzy as consciousness left him.
From the top of the wall, Bart watched in satisfaction as the magic user dropped to the ground. The courtyard below erupted in bedlam as guards rushed the tower and began ascending the steps within. Others were shouting for the archers and guards atop the walls to converge in his direction. Though he was hidden by the magic of the Cloak, it would do him little good once the wall whereon he stood was inundated by guards.
With little time left, he sought a place to attach the end of the rope so he could descend the outer side of the wall. Not finding any, his eyes fell upon the guard lying unconscious from a blow to the head Bart had given him when he first emerged from the tower. Inspiration came and he took the end of the rope and looped it under the man’ armpits. Tying it very tightly, he then threw the rest of the rope over the side of the wall.
On the ground outside the wall, guards were racing in his direction. There wasn’t much time. He took the unconscious guard tied to the rope and moved him next to the inner edge of the wall. Bart then took a firm hold of the rope as he nudged the man over the side. The man dropped a foot then came to a halt when the rope grew taut.
Bart kept the tension tight on the rope as he moved to the outer side of the wall. Then using the man as a counter-weight, he slipped over the side and began descending rapidly to the ground. Only using his hands to slow his descent, both were soon stinging from the friction.
Ping!
An arrow ricocheted off the wall next to him. Looking down, he saw that four guards, one of which was an archer, had already reached the wall directly below him. Not only that, but the hood of the Cloak had fallen back and he was no longer concealed. Coming quickly from the left and right, more guards were on the way. In no time at all they’d be below him.
Then a shout drew his attention to the top of the wall. Guards were there looking down. He saw one draw his sword and knew what was about to happen. A quick glance to the ground told him he wasn’t likely to survive intact if the rope was cut. So moving quickly, he continued down the rope as the bowman pelted the wall around him with arrows.
He managed to lower himself another fifteen feet before a vibration coursed through the rope. He knew the severing of it would be imminent. Glancing down at the men still twenty feet below, he didn’t like his chances.
Bart quickly pulled the hood back over his head, aimed to land atop one of the soldiers below, then kicked off at an angle from the wall and let go of the rope. Using one hand to hold the hood in place and maintain his invisibility, he drew the knife found in the Ruins of Algoth with the other. No sooner had the knife been pulled free, than he crashed into the unsuspecting guard. The snapping of bones could be heard as the guard’s body took the brunt of the impact. Rolling off of him, Bart quickly got to his feet. The hood had once again fallen back.
“Get him!” one guard yelled as he rushed forward. The archer put arrow to string and aimed directly for him as the second remaining guard joined the first.
Bart dove to the side and grasped the hood of the Cloak just as an arrow passed through the space his body had just a moment ago occupied. Pulling the hood again over his head, he hit the ground and disappeared.
“Where did he go?” yelled the archer. With another arrow knocked and ready, he scanned the area for any sign of where the intruder had gone. He and the two guards searched, but of the man who had come down the wall, there was no sign.
Chapter Eighteen
From the mouth of an alley, Bart watched the frantic activity of the guards as they searched for him. He couldn’t believe the fact that he made it out of the castle, let alone was still alive. Backing deeper into the alley, he turned and raced away.
They could no longer remain in the city, he had to return to the inn and warn the others. For a brief second he thought about using the ring, but quickly decided against it. The magic user may have been able to overcome the affects of the poison on the dart. If so, then he didn’t want to do anything which may alert them to his whereabouts.
Upon reaching the end of the alley, he paused in the shadows as a squad of six guards hurried past. The torch held by one of the guards briefly illuminated him as they passed, but none took notice. Once they were past, he left the alley and raced across to the mouth of another on the opposite side of the street. Disappearing into its dark interior, he began making his way back to the inn.
It took him some time before the inn came into view. The streets were swarming with guards and he was forced repeatedly to either hide or take an alternate path to avoid being seen. When at last the inn came into view, he took a moment to scan the area. It seemed quiet, at least quieter than the rest of the city.
Practically every building had at least one person gazing from a window. Though they had been told to remain indoors with their doors locked because a killer was loose, curiosity got the better of some. When he first heard a guard tell a citizen that a mad dog killer was on the loose, he couldn’t help but grin. Mad dog killer indeed!
The inn was ablaze with lights. Most every window was lit, except for two along the second floor. Those had been two of the rooms belonging to him and the others. The fact that they were dark worried him.
A patrol was quick timing it down the street toward where he was gazing from an alley. Bart ducked back in and remained in the shadows until they passed. After they had gone by and the echoes of their footsteps began to diminish, he moved again to the mouth of the alley. Looking out, he saw the coast was clear and started across.
He took but a single step before a voice in the alley behind him said, “They’re not there.”
Drawing his knife, he spun around and made ready to defend himself.
A small form came forward, and in the shadows of the alley, Bart saw that it was a small boy. “Runt?” he asked questioningly.
The shadow nodded. “They fled the city,” he replied. “Killed a bunch of guards and townsfolk during their escape.”
Bart’s eyes darted here and there in an attempt to tell if Runt was alone. Not seeing anyone, he relaxed a little though the knife remained in his hand. “Where did they go?” he asked.
