Serpent's Strike (The Chronicles of Adalmearc Book 2), page 26
“The royal wing,” the norn said with a frown. “She tends to them every morning.”
Leander did not waste another moment but left immediately, rushing towards the royal wing. Again, he went from room to room, shouting for her, but none to reply; those with the heaviest wounds were placed here, in many cases simply waiting to die, and there were barely any attendants. Finally, he reached what had been his own chamber, and he saw the young norn Zoe. “Where is the queen?” he all but yelled, and she nearly dropped the jar in her hands.
“She’s not here,” the priestess stammered. “She only helps me in the morning.”
“Where is she then?” Leander asked, breathing heavily and leaning against the doorframe; his furious energy was subsiding.
“I don’t know,” Zoe admitted with fright in her voice. “I have not seen her since morning.”
“The steward said she left to tend to the wounded,” Leander argued in a hoarse voice. “Are these not her patients?”
“Only in the morning,” Zoe reiterated. “If Her Majesty left to help, it would be elsewhere.”
“Where?” Leander roared with frustration.
“Maybe the west wing?” Zoe offered in a nervous voice. “That is where the physicians work. They always need help.” Leander turned without a word and ran westwards.
The smell of blood was fresh in the air in the western part of the palace. They were operating on soldiers struck by arrows in a way that the arrowhead could not easily be retrieved or removed, or those with crushed limbs that had to be amputated to save the rest of the body, and many other horrifying scenarios. Leander did not hesitate as he took in the gruesome sight, merely glancing over the halls as he passed through the wing. “Theodora!” he called again and again. When a young woman stopped cleaning a vicious-looking gash on a soldier’s stomach, she was hard to recognise. There was no diadem in her hair, which was not elegantly set either but simply tied back from her face. Her sleeves were pulled up, and there were bloodstains on not only her hands but her dress as well.
“Leander!” she exclaimed, “what is the matter? Why are you here?”
“Come with me,” he urged her, beckoning towards the door.
“I am occupied,” she replied with a gesture towards the soldier whose wound she was cleansing.
“One of the sisters will finish for you,” Leander told her and motioned for one of the norns to take over. He grabbed hold of Theodora’s arm and pulled her with him out of the hall.
“Leander, you are frightening me. What is the matter?” Theodora demanded to know.
Leander lessened his pace and slackened his hold on her arm as they walked towards the royal wing with less speed. “We have to leave,” he muttered quietly, “through the siege tunnels.”
“What?” Theodora came to an abrupt halt.
“The outlanders are breaking through if they have not already,” Leander explained, still keeping his voice hushed. “We have very little time before they breach the district walls as well, and we must escape.”
“I cannot leave,” Theodora protested. “Think of all the people here who will be left behind.”
“I had the same reaction as you,” Leander said impatiently, “and I had to concede as well. We are wasting time.”
“No!” Theodora exclaimed, refusing to walk further. “I alone choose where I go, and you may not decide on my behalf,” she said forcefully, staring intently at him with furious eyes.
Leander stopped as well and turned to look at her. “I understand. You want to stay because you cannot bear to abandon your people,” he spoke, gesturing to the people lying wounded in the rooms surrounding them. “Because you think they will despise you for running, they will think you chose to save yourself and that you left them to their fate.” Theodora had opened her mouth to formulate some form of reply, but she closed her lips again without speaking.
Leander continued. “That is exactly how I thought. It has taken every ounce of strength for me to fight every day on the walls, to prove I am not a coward. And in one moment, I undid all of that by coming here while our soldiers are preparing to die in the final defence of this city,” Leander said, his voice growing quieter and yet more insisting as he stepped close to her. “But if you and I are captured, we will be puppets to the outlanders. We will be chess pieces in their subjugation of our home. We must escape to continue the fight. We must suffer the blow to our pride that we may free our people when the time comes.”
Leander stared into Theodora’s eyes, and each word he spoke had the effect of a slap to her face. She could not bear his gaze and turned, staring at the many wounded soldiers and those who tirelessly worked to cure and alleviate their ills. “But I am their queen,” she said weakly. “How can I abandon my people?”
“Because there are thousands upon thousands in this realm,” Leander said, taking hold of her hand. “They are all our people, and they need us to be strong. To make the difficult choice.” Theodora’s eyes and attention were upon the quiet moans and pangs of suffering, the men slowly bleeding through their bandages, the norns and lay brothers feeding their wards and wiping their foreheads clear of fever sweat. “Please, my heart, please,” Leander urged Theodora, placing her hand against his torso. “We must go.”
She finally turned, and with dazed eyes, she looked at his hand covering hers. “Am I truly your heart?” she asked with a vulnerable voice, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“Always,” Leander promised her. “But it will break if we do not leave. For your sake, for mine, for the realm’s. We must leave.” Theodora swallowed, and she bit her lip, but finally, she nodded in consent.
The pair swiftly marched through the palace until they reached the royal wing. “I cannot leave without my mother,” Theodora said as they walked quickly. “That I will not concede to.”
“I would not wish otherwise,” Leander nodded. “I suppose,” he said hesitantly, “we should bring my mother as well. And,” he finally added with further reluctance as they approached their bedchamber, “your aunt. Both her and my mother could be valuable hostages.”
“You,” Theodora said to the guard who patrolled the corridor in the royal wing. “Bring the ladies Beatrice, Diane, and Irene to my personal chamber. All three of them, now, no time to waste.” The Blade gave the queen a bow and departed without a word.
Once inside the chamber, both the king and queen looked towards the large bed that they shared. “I have never actually been in the tunnels,” Theodora admitted.
“Me neither,” Leander added. “Let us hope we were not deceived.” With a joint effort, they pushed the bed aside. It was surprisingly light and not difficult to remove; apparently, it was not a massive construction but hollow. Then they pulled away the rug on which the bed normally rested, revealing the wooden planks of the floor beneath.
Leander took a few probing steps onto the planks, stomping on them; the ensuing sounds revealed that a small area was empty underneath the floor. Taking his dagger, Leander stuck it in between the planks and loosened one of them; it willingly gave away so it might be removed. With one gone, Leander stuck his hand down and removed the others. “At least the tunnel is there,” Leander remarked.
“Hopefully, it leads where we want,” Theodora replied. She went through certain drawers, retrieving heirloom jewellery, the official seal of the kingdom, and other such valuables of particular importance.
“We will need candles, light,” Leander said aloud. “There must be a tinderbox somewhere. I will go and find some fire,” he declared and quickly departed.
Having gathered everything irreplaceable, Theodora looked around until she found a shawl. She dumped everything into it, gathered the corners of the shawl, and tied a ribbon around it, creating an improvised bag. After that, she found a cloak for herself and put it on. Suddenly she heard footsteps outside the door, and she froze until it opened, revealing her mother and aunt.
“Theodora!” exclaimed Irene, “what is the meaning of this? Why have you summoned us in this manner?”
“Irene,” Beatrice said softly, stepping inside with her eyes upon the revealed escape tunnel. “Look.”
“Ah,” Irene merely replied.
Beatrice stepped over and took her daughter’s hands. “Has it really come to this?”
“Leander believes so,” Theodora nodded. “We have to leave.”
“Like this?” Irene exclaimed. “Do you know where that path will take us? Where we go next?”
“No,” Theodora admitted hesitantly, “but I am sure Leander has a plan of some sort.”
“Glad you are confident, at least,” Irene snorted. Before more could be said, the guard returned with Diane. “Her as well?” Irene scoffed.
“She is the king’s mother and potential leverage against him,” Theodora explained with exasperation.
“Leverage? What is going on? This brute would not tell me anything,” Diane said in a huff, motioning towards the Blade who had accompanied her.
“The city is on the verge of being overrun,” Beatrice explained and pointed towards the hatch in the floor. “We have to flee.”
“There is a tunnel in the royal bedchamber?” Diane exclaimed with wide eyes.
“You did not know?” Irene said with a triumphant voice. “I suppose you would not, considering you are not a member of the family.”
Further replies were interrupted by Leander’s return. “Incredible how difficult it was to find a tinderbox, let alone light a candle,” he complained, arriving with a lit candle in one hand and a few unused torches in the other. “I have newfound respect for the servants who do this every morning.”
“Are we supposed to eat the candles as well?” Irene asked with a sneer. “Or what did you intend for when we come out of the mountain and find ourselves on the heath?”
“Irene,” Leander said curtly, “shut up or be left behind.” Irene’s mouth flew open in shock, but she seemed unable to formulate a reply.
Next to arrive were two young men; one was clad as a warrior, and the other was carrying a lute. “Pardon our lateness,” Baldwin said, gasping for air; both he and Troy appeared out of breath. “This one would not come here unless we got his instrument.”
“You have your weapon. I have mine,” Troy said, trying to accompany it with a shrug; his state of exertion kept him from completing any kind of motion other than panting, however.
“This?” Diane said with raised eyebrows. “You are bringing a bard and a boy in armour as well?”
“I am Baldwin of Hareik,” the squire said fiercely, “squire of the Order and defender of the Seven Realms. I do not know you, my lady, but you will speak with the courtesy that every Order soldier is deserving of.”
“You will let him speak to your own mother this way?” Diane said, stunned.
“I like him more than you, Mother, so yes,” Leander said dryly.
“You are still a traitor to the Crown,” Theodora said coldly to Diane. “Do not mistake my acceptance of your presence for a pardon. Only your kinship with my husband is saving you from the axe.” With Diane silenced, the queen turned to Leander. “We will need food and water for the journey,” she said to him.
Leander turned his head upon hearing numerous approaching footsteps. “I believe your answer is arriving.”
The room became crowded as Hubert arrived along with nearly a dozen of his Blades, most of them carrying supplies and bags with provisions. “Are we ready?” asked the count.
“I believe so,” Leander nodded and gave the torches away before he lit them with the candle.
“Allow me to step first,” Hubert suggested, “in case the path is unsafe. We should lock the chamber behind us, probably, delay discovery of our flight.”
“No need,” said one of the Blades as he stepped forward. “I will stay behind.”
“Glaukos?” Hubert said questioningly.
“Pursuit like this will be easy,” the guard explained, pointing towards the open hatch with the rug and bed pushed aside. “I will put things in order and mask your escape. With fortune on our side, they will never know how you left.”
“Glaukos,” Hubert said in a thick voice, “you make an old man proud and sad at the same time.”
“You have our gratitude,” Theodora said, to which Leander nodded in assent.
“Shall we go?” Diane asked impatiently, earning her a few looks, but Hubert did as suggested and quickly stepped down the stairs into the waiting darkness.
The tunnel was short and narrow, and for a long while, it only allowed passage of one person at a time. None spoke but only stared at the back of the person straight ahead; that was all they could see in the dim light of the few torches spread among the people of the procession. The smoke they emitted had nowhere to escape and made most eyes water, and there was constant coughing to be heard. Any sense of time was lost, with nothing to act as markers except for the increasing weariness from walking on uneven terrain.
Eventually, the tunnel widened enough to allow two people to walk side by side; it seemed to be a naturally occurring cave, which the ancient heathmen had simply connected with the palace on the south side of Mount Tothmor through an artificial tunnel. The passageway not only got wider but also taller, allowing the smoke more room to disperse and to float higher, and most took relieved breaths.
Theodora walked in the centre of the group, and by chance, Baldwin was in front of her. When the tunnel width allowed it, she increased her pace slightly to reach his side. “If I heard correctly, you are Baldwin?” she asked of him, striking up conversation. “The king mentioned you as one who had joined him and Count Esmarch in the defence, though he gave no further details.”
“Baldwin of Hareik at my lady queen’s service,” the squire nodded.
“Vidrevi,” Theodora said contemplatively, “you are a forester. What great distance you have travelled to fight here.”
“I go where I am sent,” Baldwin said with calm in his voice. “The Order sent all its available knights here, which included their squires and sergeants.”
“Even so, you have crossed all of Adalmearc to be here,” Theodora said. “You do not feel any longing having exchanged the great forests with our heaths?”
“There was nothing of particular import that kept in Hareik,” Baldwin said. “My father’s name is not mine to speak,” he added after a moment’s hesitation.
“Same as the king,” Theodora smiled, although the darkness made it difficult to see. “Though he has never let such weigh him down.”
“Nor have I,” Baldwin said. “I was given to the Order, and the Order gave me what I needed. Any man can bear the spurs with honour, regardless of his origin. That is why it has my loyalty.”
“That is a noble sentiment to have,” Theodora commented in a light tone.
“Nothing remarkable,” Baldwin replied casually, “when compared to my lady queen. Becoming queen regnant at such a young age is surely a testament to my lady queen’s character.”
“You are familiar with the history of the Hæthian court?” Theodora asked, surprised.
“I am squire to Sir William,” Baldwin explained. “He has at times spoken of his youth in Tothmor.”
“I see,” Theodora said slowly. “You sound as if you do not expect he has perished in battle.”
“I do not,” Baldwin confirmed.
“I am not well-versed in military matters,” Theodora admitted hesitantly, “so I cannot pass judgement.”
“Oh no, it is most likely that the knights fell upon the field,” Baldwin acknowledged with a shrug. “But if any could extricate them, it would be Sir William. He is the epitome of knighthood, my lady queen. Only his honour is stronger than his sword. I will not believe him dead unless I see his body with my own eyes.”
“I wish I had your strength of convictions,” Theodora said quietly, “in all things.”
“You are a monarch, my lady queen. I am a squire. Ruler and servant. What is necessary for a servant may be useless to a ruler. It is my understanding that my lady queen has shown great wisdom in all respects.”
“Baldwin,” Theodora said light-heartedly, “I see why the king enjoys your company.”
While Theodora was engaged in conversation with Baldwin, her husband had moved to the front of the small group. “How long do you think before we are out of the mountain?” Leander asked of Hubert.
“Maybe a day’s march, maybe half,” Hubert suggested. “Hard to say. None of us know how far the path extends.”
“We may have to take rest soon,” Leander told him. “We probably cannot take the whole march in one stretch.”
“As you say,” Hubert accepted with his focus on the darkness ahead of him, which his torch valiantly did its best to dispel. The tunnel narrowed slightly again, and Leander could not walk side by side with the count but had to remain behind him. This meant he could not see Hubert’s expression, and his next words were spoken with hesitation.
“I did not think of it while we were hastening to escape the palace,” Leander began a lengthy explanation. “I had Theodora’s mother and aunt brought and mine own, so they would not be made captives. Yet, in my haste, I did not think of the family members of others. Such as yourself, Lord Hubert,” Leander finished, sounding slightly anxious. He could only stare at the back of Hubert’s head, but the count did not seem to flinch.
“If you are referring to my son in the dungeons,” Hubert said calmly, “you need not fret, boy. His actions brought him there. Responsibility falls on his shoulders. Not mine or yours.”
“Have you been to see him? Since everything that has happened,” Leander asked, unable to elaborate properly.
“Once,” Hubert said. “Before the siege began. After, I never felt like I had time.”
“I see. I will not pry,” Leander simply said.
“Pry all you want, boy,” Hubert growled. “We did not speak much in any case. He has violated all that I stand for.”
“Still, I would understand if this grieves you. The loss of your only son,” Leander explained haltingly.
“I have many sons,” Hubert interjected.
