James Clemens - Shadowfall

“But don’t we want to get down to the Masterlevels?” Tylar asked. “Those back stairs only lead up.”

“Exactly.”

Tylar marched behind Kathryn as she followed Lorr up the stairs. One of the tracker’s bullhounds led the way, the other trailed behind. Despite the tracker’s willingness to help, he refused to drop his guard. He kept them all pinned between his beasts.

Rogger climbed behind Tylar. Delia kept to his side. Beyond them trailed Krevan and Eylan. Before entering Tashijan, they had left Corram, along with Krevan’s six other Shadowknights, to guard their mounts in case a quick escape proved necessary. They had dared not move too large a group into Tashijan, lest they turn too many an eye, and the other Shadowknights’ cloaks were needed to disguise Tylar, Rogger, Delia, and Eylan.

Tylar now regretted not bringing a few more knights.

They climbed past another three landings. Where was this tracker taking them? The muscles of Tylar’s neck ached from the strain of this night. The fetid breath of the two bullhounds filled the narrow passage. Still, the beasts did succeed in driving other knights off the stairs and out of their way.

At last, Lorr grunted. “We’ll head out here.” The tracker checked the landing, then continued their parade through Tashijan. The halls widened at last.

Rogger moved up to one side of Tylar, Delia the other.

The thief nodded to Kathryn. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “So? How does it feel to see your betrothed again?”

Tylar had no desire to discuss such matters with Rogger-not until he could sort out his own feelings. But he was also conscious of Delia’s presence at his side. She had avoided his eye ever since Kathryn had walked through the door. He remembered Delia’s whispered words back in the Lair. It’s no oath that binds me…

Though neither of them had firmed their feelings beyond tentative motions, he owed Delia an honest answer to Rogger’s question as much as himself. “I… I don’t know.”

Before more could be said, Lorr waved. “Hurry now.”

All had noted the many eyes following their passage. The bullhounds were difficult to miss. Someone would surely raise some inquiries. Word would eventually rise like smoke to the warden’s chambers far overhead.

The hall ended a short ways ahead at a set of double doors.

Tylar recognized where they had been led. He frowned in confusion.

Beyond the doors lay the Grand Court of Tashijan, the giant amphitheater that served as the major gathering place for both knight and master.

Kathryn shook her head. “How does this help us? There’s no exit to the Masterlevels through here.”

Lorr ignored her and tried the door. He tugged without success. “Locked…”

“All the doors into the court will be,” Kathryn said. “The last they were opened was for Argent’s naming ceremony.”

Lorr tried the door again, finally kicking it in frustration.

The doors were made of stout oak, banded in iron, strong enough to blunt even an ax blade. The bronze lock required a key from Keeper Ryngold.

Rogger moved from Tylar’s side. “Allow me.” He slipped a slender pick knife and a bent fork from an inner pocket. Using his tools, he tinkered with the lock’s inner workings.

At the entrance to the hallway, a group of knights and house staff had stopped to watch. Kathryn nodded to them, arms crossed. As castellan, few would question her actions directly. At the door, Rogger’s labors were hidden behind the bulk of the bullhounds. The thief finally proved his skill. A tumble sounded from the doors. Rogger stood and pulled the latch. The wide doors easily swung open.

As the few knights at the other end of the hall moved on, one tarried a bit longer, eyes narrowed. Surely everyone had been alerted to watch for anything suspicious… and their activities, along with the presence of the bullhounds, were certainly out of the ordinary.

Word would spread.

Lorr grabbed one of the oil lamps from its hanger in the outside hall and swung it toward the door. “Inside… hurry.”

Tylar and the others pushed into the dark amphitheater.

The dome of the roof stretched far overhead, beyond the reach of the lone lamp. Closer at hand, rings of tiered seating spread outward and climbed forty levels, disappearing into the gloom.

Lorr led the way down the few stairs to the main floor. His two bullhounds spread to either side, moving low to the ground, suspicious of the giant open space.

Tylar gaped upward. He remembered gatherings here in the past: the raucous crowd of knights, the laughter, the arguments. The empty hall now seemed haunted, and with the darkness closed around them, somehow smaller. But more than anything, Tylar felt how little he belonged here now. It wasn’t just the stripping of his knighthood. What had once filled him with pride and a sense of purpose, now seemed pale and false. He had seen too much to ever wear the cloak as easily as he once had.

Kathryn glanced at him. Did she sense that about him? Did more than time and pain separate them? On the way up the stairs, Kathryn had briefly told him about her fears concerning the Fiery Cross, about Argent’s connection, about some bloody sacrifice she had stumbled upon, pointing toward the Cross’s involvement in some dark rites. Did her cloak still rest well on her shoulders?

Ahead, a dim glow shone from the floor, the only other source of light. Tylar knew what it marked. The Hearthstone. The heart and hearth of Tashijan. The flames of the fire pit had lit ceremonies dating back to before the coming of the gods, to the barbarous times of human kings. Grace kept its fires always glowing. It was quiet now, waiting to be stoked again.

Reaching the central dais, they circled around the Hearthstone. Kathryn eyed it with a sickly look on her face. Clearly she was remembering another pit, full of knights’ bones, charred and broken. Tylar also felt a twinge of unease. Was Perryl already among those bones?

Lorr led them past the arch of seats on the dais and continued to the back wall.

“Where are we going?” Krevan asked, irritated at the tracker’s reticence to explain.

The tracker reached the wall and held up his lamp. It shone off a plate of bronze that stood the height of a man.

The Shield Gong.

It was struck to summon all of Tashijan to the court. Its voice traveled throughout Tashijan.

Tylar finally understood Lorr’s purpose.

Of course…

The gong covered the opening to a funneling tunnel. This narrow passage was not meant for the tread of knight nor master. Its maze of corkscrewing channels echoed the gong’s ringing throughout Tashijan.. from the tower tops to the subterranean warrens of the masters.

Lorr grabbed an edge of the bronze gong and pulled it back, exposing the unguarded tunnel.

Rogger nodded with respect. “A passage that isn’t a passage,” he said, repeating Lorr’s earlier cryptic message. “How did you think of this?”

“Before undertaking Castellan Vail’s guardianship,” Lorr said, “I studied the maps of Tashijan. The first thing a tracker learns is the lay of the land, whether forest, mountain, or castle.”

Without further ceremony, they all pushed into the tunnel. Krevan and Lorr shoved the gong back with their shoulders, raising it enough for the bullhounds to enter. They dared not leave the hounds behind. If anyone should come to investigate, the presence of the bullhounds would expose them.

Taking care, Krevan and Lorr lowered the gong back in place. It would not serve them to have the gong sound now, awaking all of Tashijan.

Lorr squeezed ahead with the lamp. The low ceiling kept them all crouched. He led the way. The echo tunnel twisted and turned, branching and forking. They had to trust Lorr’s sense of direction and memory, but wyld trackers were well known for their ability to keep to a trail.