Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

"Excuse me, Sudian?"

"I’ll climb out through the window. Then I can get the grapple up here, and you can come down." Although he had deliberately purchased a lightweight grapple, he did not feel certain he could toss it five stories. He did believe he could climb partway and accomplish the throw from there, if necessary. At the worst, he could clamber back to the top and place the grapple in position.

"You mean run? Escape?"

Nightfall blinked, his intention surely obvious. "Well, yes, Master. Of course."

Edward sat on the edge of the bed. "I can’t do that!"

"You can’t?"

“No."

"Why not?"

Edward entwined his fingers in his lap, his attention fixed on his hands. "I did something wrong. I’m imprisoned here until my father and the duke decide punishment."

Nightfall froze, shocked. This complication he had never considered. “But you didn’t do anything to Willafrida."

“I sneaked into her bedroom. That was wrong."

"But…” Nightfall started and stopped. This line of discussion would get him nowhere. They needed to slip away before sunrise or else they would not have another chance until the following night. By that time, Duke Varsah could decide he wanted Nightfall executed or tortured and a note would be on its way to Alyndar. "But, Master. We can’t stay in one place." A good reason presented itself in an instant. "The Iceman will find us.” He paced, wringing his hands, trying to look as frightened and agitated as possible.

Edward looked up. "He can’t find us here."

"He will, Master. I’m sure of it. By morning, every gossip in town will have some story of what happened here. Ritworth will hear." He added in sudden afterthought. “And he can fly." He made a broad arc with his arm to indicate a swoop through the window. "And what about Kelryn? You promised to protect her, too."

"Sudian, it’s all right. We’ll just explain to Duke Varsah, and he’ll protect us all."

"No!" Nightfall spoke before he thought his reply through, but the obvious horror worked as well as any gauged response. "You promised, Master. You promised no one would know about my… my…" He whispered, honestly concerned someone might overhear. "… my curse."

"You mean, birth-gift," Edward corrected.

"The curse is Ritworth. And others like him. There’s no gift in that. Master, please. Please don’t make me beg."

Edward studied his squire with sympathetic eyes. "All right," he said at last. "We go, but it’s against my better instincts. There’ll be long-term ramifications…"

Nightfall was out the window before Prince Edward finished the sentence.

A wizard hoped to slay the beast.

He conjured up a poisoned feast.

The demon fed him to the crows Darkness comes where Nightfall goes.

– "The Legend of Nightfall"

Nursery rhyme, alternative verse

Moonlight bathed the He-Ain’t-Here Tavern to a red glaze in darkness, and horses stomped and snorted in the paddock. Pressed against the pasture fence, Nightfall watched patrons come and go, identifying them in the open doorway by torchlight from the common room. Prince Edward crouched beside his squire, his huge figure, light-colored silks, and golden hair too obvious a target to Nightfall’s trained eye. Given his way, Nightfall would have had them ride as swiftly as possible to the joust. Abandoning Kelryn would have seemed a blessing, but he had yet to think of an argument that could bypass the prince’s current obsession and convince him to leave her behind. Until he did, he would not mention the possibility as it would only cast suspicion on his motives once an appropriate reason occurred to him.

Silently, Nightfall cursed Edward’s persistence and the situation into which it trapped him. Logic told him allowing Edward into the tavern would prove too dangerous, and the rising tingle of the oath-bond confirmed his doubts. It made more sense for Nightfall to enter the tavern alone to collect their gear and a woman he would rather desert; yet caution would not allow him to leave the prince in an alley, alone and hunted, either. Snagged into a stalemate, Nightfall also realized the dangerous significance of time. The longer they tarried, the more likely Varsah’s men would recapture them.

Becoming impatient, Edward pressed forward. “She’s inside, Sudian. Let’s go."

Needing to delay, Nightfall blocked Edward with an outstretched arm. "Wait, Master." He took advantage of the sight of three men entering the tavern together. "Look there." He pointed to the strangers.

Edward glanced in the indicated direction, unimpressed. "What, Sudian?"

"Guards, Master. Probably hunting for us."

Edward shook his head, dismissing the possibility. "They’re not guards. No mail and no uniforms."

Nightfall kept his arm in place, blocking Edward’s path. "That’s a trick, Master. I’m certain. I saw most of the duke’s men. Those are guards.”

Prince Edward stepped back into place, giving his squire the benefit of the doubt. "Off duty?"

"Possible," Nightfall admitted. “But just as dangerous."

Edward returned his attention to the door, though the men had already entered. "Why do you think guards would be going there now?"

Nightfall kept his gaze on the tavern door. "Good place to hunt for us, don’t you think?"

Edward shrugged. "Not necessarily."

"And to get information of any type."

Edward stiffened visibly. "Do you think Kelryn’s in trouble?"

Nightfall pretended to consider, knowing immediately that he could only answer in the negative. "Master, they don’t know she’s with us. Even if someone tells them, she has nothing to do with your visit to Willafrida. They have no reason to hurt her." Nightfall seized the opportunity. "If we go to her now, Master, we may get her in trouble. If she doesn’t know what happened or where we’ve gone, there’s no excuse for Varsah to bother with her at all."

Edward opened his mouth to protest, but no words emerged. He must have seen some common sense to Nightfall’s explanation, yet it did not sit well with his honor and need. "She’s still in danger from the sorcerer. We can’t just leave her."

"Of course not, Master." Nightfall answered the second concern first. "We’ll come back for her. We can even send word from the joust. Money, too, if you think it necessary. After Varsah has given up on Kelryn having any information about us." He addressed Edward’s other point. "And the Iceman doesn’t want her. He’s after me."

Edward dropped to his haunches, obviously still uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Kelryn. He crouched in a thoughtful hush for several moments. Then, obviously having made a decision, he pulled a stylus and a curl of parchment from his pocket. He started scribbling.

Glancing about to ascertain that no one was nearby, Nightfall sat beside the prince. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Making a note." Edward continued writing. “We can sneak it to Kelryn somehow. At least then she knows we didn’t strand her, and she can catch up to us later."

Nightfall liked the idea of a note, though he would have it say something quite different. "Master, one problem."

“‘Hmmm?” Edward continued writing.

"Kelryn can’t read."

Edward’s stylus stopped moving. He looked up. "She can’t?"

"No, Master.” Nightfall simply told the truth.

Shocked, Edward asked the obvious, though foolish, question. "Why not?"

"Most commoners can’t, Master."

"Oh." This was apparently not a matter he had considered before.

"If she takes it to just anyone to read for her…” Nightfall trailed off, the complications of such a thing obvious.

Edward looked stricken.

Nightfall presented his plan then, certain Edward would be receptive to many ideas he would not have considered moments earlier. "Kelryn and I had a picture language." Again, he spoke honestly. They had invented ways to communicate with drawings or gestures. "I could write the note, and we could pay someone to deliver it to her. If anyone else looked at it, they couldn’t read it."