Sean Dalton - Time trap

Sophia climbed out with more agility than Noel expected and helped him lower the trapdoor into place. She pushed straw across it and went to pet the animal while Noel peered out at the courtyard. A man carrying a torch went running across it, calling out to the sentries patrolling the wall.

“Damn,” said Noel. “We’re in for it now.”

“Find a torch,” she said, and drew the hood of her cloak over her shining hair. “We must get to the mews. This way.”

He snatched up an unlit brand soaked in pitch and followed her as she walked purposefully through the stables and out through a side door. A man ran past them in the darkness and gave Noel a shove.

“No time for dallying in the hay, man! There’s a villain escaped from the dungeons. A sorcerer, they say. Report to Sir Geoffrey at once and join the search.”

“Aye,” said Noel, and the man ran on, leaving him to follow Sophia with his tunic soaked in cold sweat and his nerves raw with strain.

They made their way to the wall’s southeast corner and entered a squat turret. The stairs spiraling up were made of wood and they swayed beneath Noel’s weight. The place smelled of vermin and bird droppings.

At the top of the stairs, Noel discovered why. Large windows all around filled the space with moonlight. Row after row of small perches held an array of falcons, hawks, eagles, and owls. Leather jesses adorned with bells hung from their legs, keeping them bound to their perches. The floor was littered with bits of fur, feather, and broken bones from hundreds of meals served here.

Some of the predators were hooded; others were not. The latter watched Noel with large yellow eyes, aware and silent in the darkness.

Sophia went to one of the birds and pulled off its hood. She stroked its proud head, preening it with her fingertip. “There, my beauty,” she crooned. “There, my love. Have you missed me?”

“For God’s sake,” said Noel, losing patience. “Are we getting away or visiting all your pets?”

“We need Sian,” she said, replacing the bird’s hood and untying her jesses. “She belongs to me. If necessary, she will hunt for us in the wild. There are some old weapons stored in that chest, if you want any.”

He wanted to protest about the bird, but she was right in saying they needed weapons. In silence he made a swift search and found a broadsword for himself that weighed nearly a ton. He fitted a dagger and a war axe into his belt also, and found a moth-eaten cloak that smelled as though cats had been born on it years ago.

“Ready,” he said, returning to Sophia. “Now what?”

She led him back downstairs. Outside, Noel could hear increased commotion. It sounded like the whole castle had been alerted. The searchers were coming closer all the time.

“Hurry,” he said.

Holding the hawk upon her left hand, now swathed in a heavy leather gauntlet, Lady Sophia pointed at the floor.

“Open the trapdoor. See the ring?”

He knelt and pulled it open.

“Light the torch,” she said.

“With what, my teeth?”

“Don’t you carry a spark box?” she said.

“A what-no, I don’t.”

“We can’t follow this passage if we can’t see. Do something.”

He peered outside and saw a torch burning at the base of the wall about halfway to the next corner. Noel’s spirits sank. He felt that if he went running out across the open, it would mean his end. Yet there were men running everywhere, most in stages of half dress, torches flaming in their hands. It looked pretty chaotic.

Not giving himself time to dally longer, he left the turret and ran along the length of the wall, stumbling over holes pitted in the ground. Two knights and a page boy converged on the same torch just before he did. One was there to replace it with a fresh one; the others lit their brands from it.

“Any luck?” asked one.

They all, Noel included, shook their heads.

One of the knights spat. “I’ll tell ye this, sirs. I didn’t change my allegiance to Sir Magnin’s banner just to spend my nights running about in search of some crazy varlet. It’s my bed I want.”

“It’s your head you’d better care about,” retorted one of the others. “His word is law, and he don’t care how much he puts you out.”

They scattered, Noel heading back toward the mews.

A hand grasped his shoulder. “Here, you. Act with some wits. You just came from that way. What’s the point of searching it again?”

Noel’s mouth was drier than powder. “I just-I heard something up in the turret. I couldn’t see, so I came to light the torch.”

“Oh?” The knight leaned close, and Noel could smell the wine fumes on his breath. “Then we’d better both check on this noise, eh, lad?”

“Uh, yes.”

Noel led the way, hoping Sophia was hiding. He opened the door and stepped into the darkness, the knight following right on his heels. Noel whirled and thunked the man between the eyes with the butt end of his torch. The knight staggered and fell.

Noel handed the torch to Sophia, who was standing there in plain sight, staring, and dragged the man inside so that he could close the door. Panting, he rested his cheek a moment upon the splintery wood. If he had felt a hundred years old earlier tonight, he was up to three hundred now and counting.

The temptation to sit down and go to sleep was so strong he could barely fight it off. Rubbing his eyes, he took the torch from Sophia and pointed at the stairwell.

She hesitated. “What about this man?”

“Leave him.”

“But he may-”

“Just leave him,” said Noel angrily. “We don’t have time.”

She climbed down the ladder awkwardly, balancing the bird that fluttered and fussed on her arm. Noel followed and shut the trapdoor, closing them in.

The torchlight filled the small well at the bottom, showing him smooth walls on all sides, but no tunnel.

“What is this?” he demanded. “A dead end?”

“Hush,” she said sharply. “I must think.”

She closed her eyes and held out her right arm. Counting slowly, she swung herself to the right, nearly striking Noel, who dodged.

“Here,” she said, and opened her eyes. “Push on the wall where I am pointing. Push as high as you can reach. Yes, isn’t there a depression in the stone?”

He groped, cursing softly to himself because the stretch awakened the soreness in his ribs. After a few moments he found the depression. He pushed, and it gave slightly as though fitted to a spring.

“Now straight down near the floor,” she commanded.

He found that one and pushed.

There came a sharp click and a narrow section of the wall sprang open. Noel caught the edge of the door with his hand to keep it from closing again.

“Marvelous stone masonry,” he said. “I couldn’t see the lines at all-”

“Never mind,” she said now, stepping into the passage ahead of him. “Hold the torch high and let us go through quickly. I hate this part.”

He soon found out why. The tunnel was apparently hewn directly into the mountain. The ceiling dipped low in places, making him stoop to get through. The floor was rough, and Lady Sophia stumbled more than once. In places water seeped through the walls. The tunnel had the damp, mossy smell of wet rock. He knelt and sampled the water once, letting it trickle into his palm.

It tasted like cold crystal and numbed his teeth. Sophia drank also and gave some to her bird. It cheeped mournfully beneath its hood.

“How far?” asked Noel, keeping an eye on how much torch they had left.

“Far. We must hurry.”

She led the way. There were branching tunnels, but Sophia never hesitated and Noel trusted her to take them safely through. This time they really did go a mile.