The three looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess we have to keep looking,” Yavvis said. “Where could they have got to I wonder?”
“There’s another barracks and walkway through that tower,” Tar said, pointing to the square tower occupying the far corner of the Citadel.
“You think that D’Arnlo retreated that way for reinforcements?” Relam asked.
“Possible,” Yavvis agreed. “You know, I feel vaguely cheated right now.”
“Maybe the others will know,” Relam muttered, looking up at the battlements ringing the seventh level courtyard. “At the very least we would have a better vantage point from up there.”
“The fastest way there is down through the tower we just left, across the entrance hall and back up the central tower,” Yavvis told him, turning back towards the tower.
“No,” Relam said. “The fastest way up there is the roof. Give me a boost Tar.”
“Of course, your majesty,” Tar said agreeably, cupping his hands and kneeling.
Relam took a running start, stepped in the master’s cupped hands, and launched himself upward, grabbing for the roofline. He latched onto it with both hands and hauled himself up painfully, the wound in his thigh protesting the flurry of movement. Immediately, a pair of hands appeared below Relam, grasping the edge as well.
“Coming Yavvis?” he heard Tar ask.
“I don’t get a boost?”
“Not unless you can convince one of those guards we left on the other wall to lend a hand.”
“Here,” Relam grunted, leaning down and extending a hand to Yavvis. “Maybe we can pull you up.”
“I’ll manage,” the sword master replied. “I just need a running start.”
Yavvis backed up a few paces, then ran and leaped, his hands closing on the edge of the roof. He swung his legs up and around, ending up crouched parallel to the edge of the roof.
“See, easy!” Yavvis said, grinning.
“You wouldn’t catch me doing that with a four story drop on the other side of the battlements,” Relam muttered.
“Nor I,” Tar agreed. “Come on, we need to get up this roof and see what’s what. Go carefully, move one hand or foot at a time. Wouldn’t want to have anybody go sliding back down.”
“Yeah,” Relam gulped, his throat constricting. “That would be bad.” Immediately, he felt his palms begin to sweat and lose purchase on the slick tiles. He went to dry his hands on his chest, then remembered what Tar had said about moving too many limbs at once. Very deliberately, he wiped off his left hand, then his right, and placed both back on the roof.
“Easy now,” Tar murmured, beginning to climb to Relam’s left. “This isn’t a race.”
“But don’t take too long either,” Yavvis put in.
Relam ignored them and focused on holding on, pressing his hands into the tiles and shifting his left foot up. Then his left hand, right foot, and right hand. Repeat. Inch ever closer to the battlements above. To either side, Tar and Yavvis were moving slightly faster, pulling ahead.
“Take your time, Relam,” Tar said encouragingly. “You’re doing great!”
“Just don’t look down,” Yavvis advised.
And, as soon as the sword master said it, Relam looked back the way he had come. Low to the roof as he was, he could no longer see the battlemented walkway below. All he could see was the edge of the roof and the ground beyond, far below.
Relam’s head swam and his palms began sweating again and he felt himself sliding. Quickly, he dug in with his feet, wiping one hand, then the other. Then, he took a deep breath and kept climbing. Above, Tar and Yavvis were swinging over the battlements and onto the seventh level courtyard.
“Clear!” Tar called. “Just the lordlings and Narin.”
“Good,” Relam panted. “Any chance you can give me a lift?”
Tar and Yavvis leaned over the battlements, each extending a hand to Relam. The young prince extended one hand and grabbed Tar’s forearm, then extended the other hand to Yavvis.
“Got you!” Yavvis crowed. “Now, keep pushing with your feet, otherwise we’ll be dragging you across the tiles and that won’t feel good for anybody.”
Relam pushed with his feet while Tar and Yavvis tugged. In moments, Relam was up and over the battlements, and once again on a solid, horizontal floor. Not solid ground, but it would do for the moment.
“Thanks,” Relam muttered, leaning over and trying to catch his breath.
“Relam!” Cevet cried running over. “What happened? Where’s Oreius?”
“You haven’t seen him?” Relam asked.
“Not since you two went over the edge, Sebast said, joining them. “Where did these two come from?”
“Climbed the wall,” Tar said briefly. “We heard the fight from my facility.”
“Glad to have you,” Cevet said. “But we may have trouble. The whole Citadel is sure to be roused by now, and there’s . . .” he did a quick count, “Nine of us, plus Oreius.”
“There are two palace guards at the Eyrie tower,” Relam remembered. “We could recruit them.”
“Before we go any further, there’s something that we need to address,” Tar said grimly. “The Citadel guards. What do we do with them?”
“We can’t kill them,” Relam said quickly. “Not all of them are traitors. Some are just following orders.”
“They’re trying to capture the rightful king,” Yavvis pointed out. “To me, that’s treason.”
“Then we give them the opportunity to turn,” Cevet suggested. “If they don’t-”
“Disable if possible,” Relam broke in. “Leg wounds, cuts on their sword arms. Avoid killing them if at all possible.”
Tar shrugged. “You’re in charge. We are here to follow and obey.”
“And fight,” Yavvis added.
“And fight,” Tar agreed.
“We can get back to that as soon as we find Oreius,” Relam promised. “For now, we need to gather our forces and collect the two palace
