ask King Alfred to provide a home for her if she can be located.”
“I would think that there are safer places for her to visit,” Mikal said gruffly. “Still, someone must look after her.”
“There is some degree of bitterness in that statement,” chuckled the voice. “The invitation will be offered. She may choose to accept or decline.”
“What else have you heard?” Mikal questioned.
“There is no longer a safety net at home,” came the answer. “The dungeon is filling up and there is the threat of emptying it in a harsh way. Your Cousin is one of them. That is all I have for you, I’m afraid. Don’t stay away so long next time.”
Mikal quietly offered thanks and a farewell as he slid out the door into the dark corridor. Cracking the door to the alley, Mikal peered out looking for any passersby. Seeing none he stepped out into the alley and made his way towards the busy, wide street. The alley was dotted with small, black alcoves and Mikal was halfway to the street when he heard a scrape on the ground from one he had just passed.
Mikal immediately stooped as he spun around to face his attacker. The knife just barely passed over his head and Mikal threw a forceful punch up between the attackers legs. A whoosh of breath smelling of cheap ale was expelled from the attacker and Mikal grabbed the man’s legs and straightened his own, tossing the large attacker over his shoulder. Mikal spun around and knelt on the man’s neck as he grabbed both of the man’s wrists with his large callused hands. Smashing the man’s hands against the ground, Mikal was rewarded by the sound of the knife falling to the ground.
The man tried to struggle beneath him and each time, Mikal put pressure on the man’s neck with his knee. Eventually, the man stopped struggling and Mikal said only one word softly, “Name?”
When the man didn’t answer, Mikal increased the pressure of his knee and asked the question again. Finally, the man answered, “Hanjel.”
“I should have known it would be you,” Mikal said grimly. “First, you had no pride in your position. Now, you have too much pride, or is it hatred? This will make the second time that I have spared your life, Hanjel. There will not be a third. Make no mistake about it. Even if you stand in the presence of King Alfred, if I see you again, I will kill you.”
Mikal quickly snatched the fallen knife, rose and walked out of the alley to continue with his contacts, without looking back.
Fredrik returned to the Fluttering Jib and walked up to his room. The other three Rangers were waiting anxiously. The disappointed looks on their faces were obvious when Fredrik entered the room alone.
“Wouldn’t the King see you?” asked Tanya.
Fredrik slumped down on his bed and shook his head. “The King saw me,” he answered. “I thought I had him ready to release Niki to me, but all he offered was her body after she is executed. The woman whom Niki attacked is the Lady of Caldar and she demanded her execution. The King has agreed to please her.”
The room went suddenly quiet and Arik started pacing the floor. After the continuous sound of Arik’s pacing drove everyone to irritability, the others made him sit down.
“There is no option left but to break her out,” Tanya concluded. “If only we could figure out where they are holding her.”
Fredrik perked up at his chance to offer something useful. “I know where she is,” he chirped. “I saw her, but she was sleeping. There are cells dug into the ground on the Palace estate. They have a moat around a large area with cells and a mechanical device that extends a narrow bridge over it. They took me to verify that Niki was the woman whom I was after.”
“Where about on the estate is this island?” Arik demanded.
“It is as far from the Palace as you can get and still be on the estate,” Fredrik explained. “There is a large wall around the entire estate, but I did not see any guard towers. I did pass two roving patrols while they had me out, but I didn’t see anyone stationary at that end of the estate.”
“Great,” exclaimed Arik. “We can scale the wall and get her out.”
“Why would they leave prisoners so exposed?” queried Tedi. “They must put some value on keeping their prisoners locked up. There is something missing here.”
“There is quite a bit missing if you will let me finish,” scolded Fredrik. “The bridge mechanism is locked with a key the guard carries. It also makes a tremendous noise when it is operated and if we try to use it, we will be killed or captured.”
“Can’t we just swim across the moat?” asked Tanya.
Fredrik shook his head tossing his dark brown hair over one eye. “I wouldn’t advise that,” he sighed. “The moat is filled with hungry reptiles. Some of them were twenty feet long. I heard the guards laughing about feeding time, which, I gather, is seldom, but their gnashing teeth could easily tear your legs off. Also, the cell, itself, is locked and the pit is too deep for her to climb out of. Even if it wasn’t that deep, you would have to wake her up without her screaming her head off.”
“Why hasn’t Niki used her magic to get out of the cell?” quizzed Arik. “Does she know any spells that would help her escape? I mean, why is she just sleeping when she should be raging to get out?”
“A good question,” added Tedi. “Are you sure she was alive, Fredrik?”
“I thought she was just sleeping,” Fredrik replied thoughtfully, “but you are right. That is not like Niki at all. She would be screaming and cursing and throwing any spell she could conjure.”
“The King would not hold a public execution with a dead prisoner,” Tanya postulated. “They must have drugged her or knocked her out. They were probably afraid of her magic powers. Now we have to add to the list our need to carry her once we open the cell.”
“Whatever we do will have to be done later tonight,” declared Arik. “Let’s split into two teams. One team will eat now while the other tries to get a look at this island from the outside. When they return, we will switch. When the second team comes back we will meet here and discuss ideas for getting her out.”
“Tedi and I will eat first,” declared Tanya. “You two go and get a look. Fredrik can show you where it is and you can draw us a map when you return,” she said to Arik.
They all agreed and Fredrik led Arik to the spot where he thought the island might be. The wall was a good twenty feet high and the boys could not see over it. The trees in the area were not tall enough to get a good look over the wall and there were too many people in the area to start climbing the wall even if they could.
Fredrik looked around the area and his eyes stopped on a three-story house across the street. Fredrik tapped Arik on the sleeve and marched across the street and knocked on the door. At first he thought no one would answer, but when he was about to open the door and go in, a middle-aged woman opened the door.
“What is it?” she demanded. “If it’s something you’re selling, be off with you.”
“Madam,” Fredrik puffed up, “do I look like a lowly merchant? My agent sent me by to examine the house.”
The woman gave Fredrik a looking over and eyed appraisingly at his red velvet suit. “Agent? What agent? Whatever are you talking about?”
“The property agent, of course,” snapped Fredrik. “Look, I am offering an outrageously large sum of money for this house and I don’t appreciate my time being wasted with foolish games. Are you going to let us in or should I buy your neighbor’s house?”
“I don’t know nothing about…” faltered the woman. Her eyes sparkled as she changed her tune. “I mean to say that your agent was not gracious enough to inform me that you would be coming this evening. Come in, please.”
Arik hid his smile well as Fredrik led the way into the tall house. Fredrik saw a few poor pieces of furniture and some crates in the entry hall. He swept past them into the receiving room and stopped when he saw no furniture at all. “I am afraid that I forgot your name, Lady,” Fredrik stated.
“Mabel, My Lord,” she replied as she bowed. “As you can see, I have already moved the furniture out except for these small pieces. I can have them removed in the morning. How much was your offer, Sir?”
“Twice what you were asking,” Fredrik calmly replied. “I think this will do well, Lady Mabel.”
“Perhaps, you could show your good faith, Sir,” Mabel hesitantly suggested. “A small deposit would
