Chasing the Prophecy

Nedwin wrenched himself onto his side and opened his eyes, gasping, feeling like a drowning man who had finally found land. He did not sleep in his decadent bed. The softness felt foreign and made it harder to wake. Instead, Nedwin slept on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in some of the covers.

His hearing had been sharpened by years of receiving nervesong, a pain enhancer responsible for many of his most mind-rending agonies. Even after losing one ear, Nedwin still heard much better than he had as a child. Occasionally he would experience auditory hallucinations, but they tended to be inexplicable angry voices, and he had learned to separate them from actual sensory input.

Right now he heard faint noises rising from the city below—weapons clashing, glass shattering, assorted screams and shouts. The bells were not yet ringing, but they would probably start soon. A riot? An attack?

He detected disturbing clues from within the castle—the splintering crack of a forced door, dogs avidly barking in the kennel, the jingle of armor, a shout that cut off abruptly. Then he heard a sudden scuffle down the stairs from his room.

So the violence was inside the city, inside the castle, and already inside his quarters. Nedwin resisted a jolt of panic. He felt no fear for his life, but ample concern that his opportunity to fail Galloran had arrived. He had known in his gut, in his bones, that his position governing Trensicourt would come to this. He was too new to the politics involved, and too many schemers had stayed behind with feigned sicknesses.

The bells should be ringing. Had they been compromised? How had his opponents orchestrated this so quietly? Nollin had been working his growing network of contacts, and Nedwin had spent most of his time snooping privately, but neither had caught wind of this coup. Nedwin had expected treachery eventually, but smaller in scale and not so soon. He needed to start moving. He needed to learn the extent of the trouble and to see if there was any action he could take.

The two guards stationed outside his room were reliable men. He should warn them. They could leave with him. If they stayed to fight, they would die.

Nedwin rushed to the door on light feet, but paused as he heard the clamor of swordplay. Too late. Eli and Tomlin had already engaged the attackers. “Nedwin,” a voice shouted, “treachery!”

Belting on his favored short sword and placing a pair of orantium globes in a satchel, Nedwin dashed to the balcony. He never stayed anywhere without scouting multiple escape routes. If he got away, there would be time to return and face his enemies on his own terms. Best to disappear while they had the advantage.

The night was cool, the moon bright. Nedwin took a moment to stare from his balcony. Outside the castle wall Nedwin glimpsed a trio of giants rampaging through a cluster of soldiers. The overmatched humans stood no chance. Elsewhere a pair of riderless horses galloped wildly along a side street. Down in a courtyard Nedwin observed a large group of men driving back a smaller group.

For a moment he could not move. The event he had expected and feared had arrived—a massive coup on his watch. The city had fallen, the castle was falling, and he was the last to know. It had taken murderers at the door of his bedchamber to rouse him.

Even without hard evidence leading up to this night, he had no right to be shocked. How had he missed the giants? He had been vigilant! Clearly, he had not been looking in the right places. The giants must have been smuggled into the city as dwarfs. But when? How? He had watched for dwarfs! He had watched for conspirators! He had intercepted messages! He had eavesdropped on conversations! He had not been complacent.

Never badger a badger. Never squirrel with a squirrel. Never swallow a swallow. When enduring torture, Nedwin used to play word games in his mind, finding interesting combinations. In times of strife, strange word patterns would surface. If you can’t bear the bare bear, bore through the boring boar.

This was no time to get flustered. This was no time to analyze his mistakes. There would be plenty of time later to rationally sort through what had gone wrong. He did not need to comprehend any of it yet. He had to act first and think later, or he would end up dead and no use to anyone.

A rope dangled beside the balcony. Nedwin had left it there deliberately. He quickly used it to climb to the top of the tower. The steeply sloped roof was not built for walking, but Nedwin was in no danger of falling. He loosed the rope and tied it again elsewhere, then climbed down to a lower roof that could take him places.

Nedwin could have claimed the king’s quarters, but he had opted for the third tallest tower instead. Among other features it afforded better rooftop access to the entire castle.

Above him he could hear men trying to force the door to his room. It would take some time. The stout door was thick, and Nedwin had added three interior locks. Nedwin tugged on the rope. He wished he could take it with him to make his disappearance more mysterious, but he knew he had tied it well.

Where to now?

What allies might need him? Despite his high position, Nicholas had refused to relocate to the castle. A savvy decision, considering the present circumstances. Nedwin decided that he would go directly to Nicholas after escaping the castle. The forces behind this coup would not leave Nicholas untouched, no matter where he chose to live.

Nedwin started running along the rooftop, using a smooth, sliding pace and deliberately choosing where to place each step to minimize sound. He had to sacrifice a little bit of stealth for speed, but with all the commotion in and around the castle, he doubted anyone would notice his subtle creaks.

He should try to reach Nollin and Kerick in time to help them escape. Their quarters were reasonably accessible. They had shunned the towers in favor of proximity to the garden courtyard.

Nedwin worked his way along a narrow ledge, ducking to avoid a couple of windows, his toes hanging over the brink. He leaped, grabbed a jutting beam, and swung onto a new rooftop. If he fell, he would die. Same if he were caught. But ever since the dungeons, most danger had lost its edge.

He arrived at the garden courtyard, then jumped from the rooftop into a tall tree. Leaves and twigs slapped at him as his hands and feet found limbs to halt his fall. There were no continuous ledges around the courtyard walls, so Nedwin took three quick steps along a thick bough, sprang with his arms outstretched, and caught hold of a windowsill.

Pulling himself onto the narrow shelf, Nedwin found the window latched, but he forced it easily. The room was not occupied, although the bed had been slept in. He listened at the door, then peered into the hall.

In the distance Nedwin heard stern voices demanding surrender. Otherwise it was quiet, so he dashed down the hall to the suite where Nollin and Kerick were staying. The outer door had been forced. Inside he found their three guards dead alongside four other corpses.