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A sombre mood prevailed in the royal family room as Posadom sat in a corner, his face drawn and aged before its time, while in the middle of the room, his security officers squabbled with the commander of the guards over the kidnapping incident. His majesty raised a weary hand and said, "Please, let us stop this endless bickering. Why waste time over things that we have no answer for. There are other more immediate needs." Bulgarth spoke, "What will you do your majesty?" Casperlane scowled but before he could rebuke Bulgarth the king said, "Yes, there is a need to answer that question quickly. How much time do we have?" "Not enough." The army commander answered. Casperlane shook his stick at the man, who did not deem it necessary to add comforting words to the end of his extremely short sentence. The king turned to his flustered friend. "Casperlane, would you think me a lesser man for the choice I am about to make?" All in the room held their breath. Hymae broke the silence, "You plan to decide as a king then, and not as a man?" Though Casperlane had summoned both him and Frad to the palace, Hymae could not find Frad. Sarah’s clothes explained her absence from the palace, but not where both she and Frad had gone or what they were up to. Posadom’s wearied voice said, "Should I sacrifice the one I love the most, or should I sacrifice those that others love? You tell me which choice is the lighter and I will gladly bear it." Hymae said, "Providence deemed me a weak man and wisely made me the son of a commoner. No, your majesty, I would not be able to bear either burden." The king gazed outside the window. The night sky was clear, and his eyes were drawn to a single bright star. He remembered his words to his children, that much was expected out of those born with much. Would he be willing to pay the price? His enemies’ word may be sweet, but would Raul keep Palmeon’s promise? Yet if he roused the army, many of his citizens will lost their lives. He turned to Bulgarth, the face that had haunted his dreams since he had learned of Kwanbie's fate, and he knew that if he abandon his people now, many would suffer as Bulgarth had. The king said, "Commander, prepare your people. We will meet them in the city, if need be." The soldier's face frowned as though in disagreement. Then he he bowed and walked out to do as commanded. The king turned to Merlana and his niece Keldina. "I want you both to stay in the inner courts." He smiled benignly at them before saying, "It is safer here." At that moment, Juna was there with the royal children, assisting Myra in giving them comfort. "But I can fight." Keldina protested. The king raised his voice, "No, you will do as I say. And I say that you go into the royal chambers." The young woman seethed. If she was a man, he would let her fight, for she was of the opinion that she could shoot a straighter arrow than the bookworm Hymae. But her Uncle had given his order as a king. She stomped off unhappily with Merlana behind her. A manservant brought them to the royal quarters and Keldina walked straight into the queen's bedroom. The bed remained unmade but thankfully the blood stained carpet had been taken out of the room. Keldina looked towards the connecting door leading to Leah’s room which had been sealed off. She knelt before the bed, buried her face in the mattress and sobbed like a wounded toddler. Merlana waited for the manservant to leave them alone then she sprang into another connecting door and entered the king's bedchambers. Keldina, whose head snapped up when she heard the door swished, followed Merlana into the room. There she found the other woman digging through her uncle's wardrobe. Then she watched wide-eyed as Merlana stripped off her fancy gentleman clothes and slipped into the king's disguise work-clothes. Keldina hissed, "What are you doing?" "Go on and cry if you wish, but I am going out." Keldina self-consciously wiped the tears from her face, then not to be outdone, she too rummaged through the wardrobe. Now it was Merlana's turn to ask, "What are you doing?" "I'm going with you." "Oh really," Merlana scoffed. "What makes you think that a refined lady like yourself could follow me down the streets?" Keldina smiled triumphantly as she lifted up a shirt. "What makes you think I'm a lady? Anyway, I know those raucous streets better than you." She stripped off her fineries and changed into brown breeches and yellowed tunic. They looked each other up and down, until finally Keldina spoke, "Something is not right." "It is our hair," Merlana said, "They are too long and too thick to hide under a hat." Merlana cast about the dim room and found a knife on a side-table by the bed. She picked it up and sheared her thick golden hair above her shoulder. Halfway through, she turned to look at Keldina, "It will grow back." The other laughed, "Aye, it will indeed." Keldina went to her new friend's side and helped her cut the rest of her golden locks. Then she passed the blade to Merlana and asked for her black tresses to be sheared likewise. After they were done, they studied each other once more and giggled. They could now easily pass for young common men. They both knew that guards were placed all along the corridor outside, so Keldina returned to her aunt's bedroom and when she looked out the window, she was pleased to see a ledge jutting out of the wall just under the window and going all the way around the corners. No guards were posted there. To prove to Merlana that she was not a spineless gentle woman, she climbed out to the ledge first. With their backs to the wall, they inched their way passed three windows until finally Keldina climbed into a small window. The sparsely furnished room only had a simple wooden bed and stool by a wall. They dashed as quietly as they could towards Dipa's office, then darted down a narrow service staircase a few feet away. At the lowest floor, the flight of stairs forked, and Keldina led the way down to the left and into the kitchen's rubbish yard. No servants were out and about the place at that time because the chief cook was giving out instructions on food rationing to them in the kitchen. Upstairs, the king felt that he might have been too harsh on Keldina. He called for Matron Hally, Keldina’s royal companion and asked her to accompany him, for king or not he did not feel he could confront the distraught woman alone. They went to Tilmon's chamber, where the manservant said he left them but the women were not there. The connecting door to his chamber was ajar so he went through it expecting to find them in there. Instead he found Merlana's clothes in a heap on the floor, together with Keldina’s gown. A scream from his bedside made him jump and guards came crashing into the room. The king stared, for on the floor next to his night table was a thick pile of black and gold hair. Matron Hally fainted. A gatekeeper opened the gates of the factory for Frad and Sarah then a guard escorted them in. Like a mantra going over and over in her head, Sarah repeated to herself that the plan will work. Frad had also assured her that he was familiar with the layout of the place. The factory was steaming hot due to the numerous cauldrons holding melted iron and nerve-wreckingly raucous as pulleys and chains clattered and hammers pounded. Outside everything seemed so clear and sure, yet now in there, she felt her confidence ebbing away. They went up some steps then down a mercifully quiet corridor. The guard knocked on a door to their left. An old grizzled man opened it. He was in a workman's attire of brown vest and grey shirt. Rudely he asked, “What do you want?” The guard answered, “Some people here from Prince Palmeon, Master Alain.” “Eh? But Master Formenscion is with the Prince right now.” Sarah drawled, “Well man, I am glad you at least are aware of that. His highness would like to make sure that his, ummm, prize is in good condition. He had sent us here to confirm it with our own eyes.” Alain’s mouth twitched nervously. He looked at Sarah’s hair and wondered if she was an important person. Only a lord could have such thick curls and drawl so arrogantly. “Of course my lord. She is in good condition. I can bring her to you.” Frad did not think that a good idea, for there was only one way out of that place, down the stairs, then pass the factory floor, which was heavily guarded. Anyway he didn’t know if a queen could run so he said the first excuse that popped into his mind, “No, His Highness’ instruction was that we see her where you keep her. He wants us to make sure that she cannot hurt herself in any manner.” The old man nodded. “Of course, of course as you wish.” He turned to the guard, “Where are Tom and Blair?” “They went out for dinner and had not returned.” Alain snorted, “Those useless ruffians. Some whore or other must have kept them away.” He turned and smiled to his visitors, “Never mind my lord, I myself will show you the way. She is very well guarded I assure you. That’s why Brocod’s men feel so free in leaving her like this,” making sure to mention that those two did not work for his master, Formenscion. They went back down the corridor and as Frad hoped, down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps, they turned left and walked down another corridor. After about thirty feet, the old man went down more steps to his left. The smell of the sewers assailed their nostrils as they walked down another well lit corridor. Then their guide turned into a dark passage to the right. A single torch shone about twenty yards away. Two guards squatted on the floor playing dice but they instantly stood up on seeing the group. The old man faced Sarah as he said, “As you can see my lord, her majesty is well guarded.” Sarah patted them on the shoulder, then checked their weapons. The swords on their belts were heavy, but the shoulders were light and young. Then she signaled for Alain to show her in. A guard unhooked a key from his belt and turned the lock. Tilmon stood in the middle of the cell, with a blanket over her simple sleeping gown and her head held high. She was surprised to see Sarah, “You, how could you be part of this. I welcomed you into my home, I treated you as one of my own.” Sarah visibly paled, but the queen's words only made Alain bow lower to show his respect. Sarah squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and drawled, “Well, your majesty. Things do need to change. Alain, send a guard outside. I believe you will find a bottle of honeyed brandy in my carriage. Ask him to bring it here and we will all drink to Prince Palmeon’s health.” The old man chuckled with glee. He sent off the guard who followed them down. The queen turned angry tearful eyes to Sarah, “Tell me, what would you get out of this. Have you not come to seek assistance...” She stopped in mid-sentence for she saw Frad's warning as he placed a finger over his mouth. Her voice faltered a little as she tried to change the course of her next words, “assistance for the return of your father’s land? Or has Palmeon given you a better proposal?” Frad stepped out to the corridor. He pretended to stretch then he smashed his knee into the stomach of one young guard at the same time he knuckled his fist and turned to punch the other. The struggle outside surprised Alain and before he could react, a cold blade came over his throat. The queen drew closer to Sarah, who passed the blade to her, “Hold this against his throat your majesty, do not be afraid to use it.” Tilmon snarled as she took the knife. “It will be very difficult not to use it.” Sarah darted outside to give Frad a hand. As she suspected, the broadswords were too heavy for the two young guards. They tried their best to strike Frad, but each time their blade reached their aim, he was no longer there. So engrossed were they, it was no trouble at all for Sarah to trip one. She gave him a hard kick on the chest and Frad punched the other straight on the nose. While they still struggled with their pain, they were tied and then dragged into the cell. Sarah next tied the old man, grabbed the key from one of the guards and locked the door. Then she threw the key into a dark corner. Tilmon gave her back the blade, which she sheathed back into her belt. Frad snatched the torch from the wall, hurried them down the passage, before the end of which, he ran down another passage to their right. Putrid smell assailed their nostrils. “Well, at least this is the drain that comes out of their kitchen. Your majesty, I will have to apologize in advance, this is no escape route for noble persons such as yourself.” “If you think I fear dirt or rats, then you are wrong. I have had my share of adventure when I was young.” Thus assured, Frad rushed down the passage until they came to steps that led them down to a drain lined with narrow a path hugging the wall. Rats ran up and down the ledge and strange things floated on the water. Frad looked about him for a moment, as though to get his bearings, then threw the torch into the drain. “What are you doing?” Sarah asked in the pitch dark. In a low whisper, Frad explained, “The light will attract people to our presence. It is best to move in darkness. I know this sewer. I used to hunt rats down here. Come follow me. We have to hold hands; else we may get separated. The ledge is wide enough for our feet if we keep them one in front of the other and stay close to the wall. Try to stay as quiet as you can, for noise travels far in here.” Sarah wondered why he hunted rats in the sewers. It seemed like a strange and pointless pastime to her. Then she recalled some of the food stalls she saw in the poor city. It slowly dawn on her that the activity may not be as pointless as she thought. With the queen between them, they crept forward silently. Frad did not kick the rats out of his way, fearing that their distressed squealing would draw unwanted attention. Though the animals moved away at his urging, some crept over their feet. True to her word, the queen did not fear them. However, Frad cringed each time a swirling noise rose from the water, because he knew the manner of predators that lived near their prey and in his mind, it seemed to be following them. During his boyhood he had seen water snakes as thick as the thigh of a grown man. Frad stopped. Voices grew louder by the second, and the echo was all around them. He could not tell which direction the noise was coming from, until he saw light approaching from the way they had come. Frad pressed on with mounting urgency. A pursuer splashed into the dirty water and Frad panicked as he gained on them. Blair lunged forward, and swinging his torch like a sword, he singed Sarah on the shoulder. Suddenly, a long black form slapped out of the water. The shadow coiled itself around him, fangs drawn, aiming for his face. The torch fell out of his hand. Blair’s muffled scream filled the darkness then silence. The torches behind them stopped on hearing the shout then they started to shake. More swishing ran down the water and the scent of reptiles filled the air as though the lights had attracted them to the presence of prey. Screams traveled down the tunnel like a wailing storm within the walls. Tilmon’s hand quivered and she stood as though paralyzed to the ledge. Frad inclined his head until it touches hers and said, “Your majesty, we must go. A few more steps. You need not be afraid, there are none near us now. Come slowly, step by step. We will be out of here soon. Come now step by step.” She began to move, petrified yet allowing her mind to be mesmerized by the comforting tone of his voice as every sound from below brought fresh terror. Frad had lied; it was not a few more steps. It was a long way still. More swishing passed them, as the commotion in the deeper parts of the sewer continued. He felt a step behind him, then another, and a third. Though still in the pitch dark, Frad knew that they were now standing on a platform. He hurried as best as he could with one hand gropping the wall ahead of him while the other gripped Tilmon's hand. Soon, they saw a skyline with stars, which was the most welcomed sight to them. Frad released Tilmon's hand, signaled for silence and crept forward. The two disguised women approached the riotous palace gate and slipped out unnoticed. They trudged down the crowded tremulous streets for a distance then Keldina turned to her companion and asked, "What are you planning to do? Volunteer into the army?" "That was my plan originally. But as we inched our way on the ledge just now, I thought of a better one." A passerby bumped into Merlana. "Oh?" Keldina raised her eyebrows. Merlana explained, "Have you noticed how well organize the palace garden is? Well, I was in there this afternoon and I wanted to go to the balcony overseeing the river, but I lost my way in the maze even after getting instructions from the palace guard." "Well, they are usually not very smart. Or they could have given you the wrong directions just for fun." Merlana stopped and smirked. Keldina noticed a glint in her eyes that had always made Bulgarth shuddered. The princess laughed as a hint of the idea entered her mind. Then she said, "Aye, if that is your plan, then let us go to the land entrance to the city. There are three main streets from there and only one leads to the palace. We can go to the harbour later." Slowly Frad poked his head out of the sewer hole. A pair of hands pulled him out by the neck and choked him. The queen came out right after him and clawed at the arm of the attacker, and the hands instantly let him go. She was so angry and frightened that she just kept clawing away and beating at this new person. Then she felt hands gripping her wrists, and she stopped, for she thought it strange that the grip was gentle. She looked up and saw the face, and Tilmon forgot her station in life and cried like a little child in Leah's arms. Frad’s voice was strained as he said, “We must leave. There may be some who got back safely, they know where this sewer leads out to.” Leah turned towards the streets, but Frad spoke again, “No, this way. That way is not safe.” Leah stared at him in surprise, “There is no way through from there. It is a dead end.” Frad answered, “I made up my mind that if the queen is a woman who can go through the sewers with courage, then she is a woman who can go through the places of the tunnel dwellers too. Forgive me your majesty. The wrath of Palmeon is upon us, the tunnels will hide us from him, although it is a place that persons of your virtue should never know exists.” Leah studied Frad's face, then in a voice dripping with hate and vengeance, she said, “This is Frederick of Laurenx, my queen. Will you heed his words?” The queen stared in disbelief at the bowed despondent head before her. Then she remembered the hand that held hers as she quailed in terror. “Yes, truly it is Frederick. The hand that had lovingly painted the home of my girlhood, had also tenderly led me out of danger. You are right Leah. It is the same hand. I trust you Frederick, lead on, I will follow.” He looked at her in wonder, for his heart was touched by her grace. Truly she was a queen among women. He had never heard of anyone forgiving another accused of doing her wrong. “This way your majesty.” Frad instructed Sarah to stand next to the queen and for Leah to stand directly behind her. He cautioned them, “You’re fist may come in handy in there. But whatever you may hear or see, do not stop to lend a hand. Charity only brings trouble in the world hidden from the sun.” The rumbling of a carriage approached and, as one, they slipped back into the dark security of the tunnel. A whip sang through the air like lightning as it passed. Then it grinded to a halt in front of the factory's main gate. The gatekeeper ran forward to open the carriage door, and was flung aside as it slammed open and a man stepped out. Palmeon’s features were harsh without his courtly smiles. A sentry dragged out Formenscion’s assistant and made the old man kneel in front of the prince. “You fool, you let her escape.” The whip in his hand snapped, followed by a pitiful howl. Frad dashed across the road towards an alley, closely followed by his companions. On reaching the end of the short alley, he pushed a door to his left wall. A man called out from a pile of rubbish, “Eh, now, where you be going?” Frad fished for coins in his pockets. “Good evening, master gatekeeper. We be passing through here. Heard that this be the shortest way to Bracklyn’s Tavern.” The voice gave a dry laugh and a cough. “Aye it be the best way.” He let them pass.
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