Chapter Nine: Breaking In
When the sun greeted the horizon after the evening meal, Will looked one final time for Halt. He was not there, and neither was Aya. She had gone to the other side of the tower, with her horse, to mount the distraction. At a sound of alarm and rushing movement from the guards, Will shouldered the pack of sticks he had whittled and crawled down the slight slope towards the bush. He had no trouble sneaking past the guards, who were all conversing with the next closest guardsmen, and into the bush.
Will could see the candle he had spotted earlier sitting abandoned next to a note on a chair through one of the large cracks in the planks. After verifying the room was empty, Will inserted his saxe into the gap and levered the planks off.
He leapt forward into the room, knife brandished. He moved to the desk first, reading the title of the scroll. Will gasped quietly. "How did they get the Gathering papers?" He also scooped up the rider's note, tucking it into his pocket for he knew little Gallican.
Will then moved to the doorway, sensing the breath of a guard. Will smashed the man on his skull with the pommel of his saxe as he entered the main room. He grabbed the man's mace and sheathed his own knife. He noticed something on the fallen guard's belt that made his lip curl. It was a Ranger knife.
"That's not yours." He said, picking it up and sheathing it into his own belt. Fortunately, the room was empty due to the commotion occurring outside. Will wondered what cacophony was happening outside to cause the guards such confusion.
Will located the trapdoor stairway down and knocked the guard there with the mace. He ran down the steps like a gymnast at a fair. "Rangers!" Will whispered harshly. "It is I, Will. Let me get you out."
The Rangers cheered quietly as Will approached the left side of the line and drew his knife, discarding the mace. He hacked at the hard leather cuffs until he got the hand of one man free. He did the same for the other wrist, then gave the Ranger a throwing knife.
"Use this to free the others." The Ranger nodded, then went to work on the one next to him. They worked together to free the next one, giving him a knife and then on. There were keyholes, but Will wasn't sure where the key might be found. He had noted the hard leather cuffs from earlier and thought he would be able to cut through them.
Soon, they were all free. Will distributed the guards' weapons and sharpened sticks he had whittled, then charged up the stairs into the entrance room.
The Rangers wielded the sticks with the ferocity of caged animals. They gored and stabbed at their captors, destroying their enemies left and right. Will stepped into a duel with a guard, easily dispatching him with a blow to the head with the butt end of his knife. Will's eyes strayed to Aya, fighting alongside Martin with her knifes.
Now the Rangers had taken the first floor and replaced their sticks with swords, maces, daggers, and some spears. They used these spears now to point outward so that Rangers could climb the ladder up to the second floor without being smote from behind. Five of the better-equipped Rangers made it to the second floor, slashing gracefully and clearing the way for more Rangers to climb up. Will prepared to climb when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Halt!" Will exclaimed. "What happened?"
"Abelard threw a shoe, and the local farrier was very obstinate." Halt said as he climbed up. Will followed him.
"I bet you had fun with him!" Will smiled, as he knocked out a soldier with his strikers.
"You bet I did. I didn't throw him into a moat this time, though I probably would have if there was one nearby." Halt said as he sent a man sprawling with a well-placed kick. Soon the second floor was cleared, and then the third as well. Now all that remained was the battlements.
Halt and Will led the fight for the top, concussing the last of the men. Finally, only one man remained. He was prettily dressed, unlike the utilitarian soldiers, and wore a ruff of lace and an outrageous hat that needed a chinstrap just to keep it on. Gallicans and their fashion, Halt thought. Mathieu, eyes wide with fright, backed into a crenellation, murmuring useless pleadings.
"You're coming with us." Will barked.
"I would rather die than be captured by Araluen dogs!" The commander yelled, finding his nerve.
"That's pretty high and mighty coming from someone in your position," Halt said. Without warning, Mathieu kicked his legs and fell off the crenellations feet first. He only fell half a meter before he stopped in midair, Halt's death grip fastened on the fancy white ruff on his neck.
"Nice try." He said as he pulled him back up, none too gently.
AN: Please feel free to comment on how we're portraying Flanagan's characters. Only one chapter left!