The Scythe and the Blade

Chapter Six: Wary Travellers

George, Frankie, and Aldrea stood side-by-side, backs pinned against the wall next to the door leading out into the halls. They waited as the commotion of soldiers rolled by, fully aware that any one of them might have direct orders to arrest the three of them in Brienna's old bedroom. For reasons George didn't fully trust, Frankie was leading them with hand gestures, preparing to make a run for it.

She signalled with a wave of her hand, and they warily exited the door and made a break for it. Frankie led them towards one of the castle's many grand staircases, when they saw three guards climbing it towards them. Frankie tugged their arms and they pinned themselves behind a stone pillar as the guards passed by. Gesturing once more, she led the sprint down the staircase and into the backdoor of a kitchen.

A kitchen maid and her daughter held hands and looked at the three of them with great surprise.

"My prince and princesses," said the kitchen maid. She began to kneel but George held up a hand.

"No need for that, Miss. We were never here."

She looked confused for a moment, then nodded in concurrence. "We saw nothing."

Frankie carried on with her plan and approached the large woodfire stove at the centre of the kitchen. Kneeling down, she opened the compartment for wood and began to crawl inside.

"I wouldn't do that, m'Lady-" began the kitchen maid hesitantly.

"That's where the fire goes," chimed her daughter.

Frankie grunted as she struggled with something inside, then pulled out all the remaining ash as well as a stone trapdoor. "Come on then, let's get on." Frankie disappeared beneath the stove once more.

George looked at Aldrea for a moment and took her hand as they knelt down and looked into the newly revealed ladder downwards beneath the stove. George helped Aldrea onto the ladder, then followed. He gripped the stone trapdoor.

"What's your name?" he asked the kitchen maid.

"Joan."

"Thank you, Joan," said George as he placed the stone trapdoor back in its place and descended down the ladder.

"Where are we going?" Aldrea asked Frankie as they followed down the narrow corridor.

"You'll see," said Frankie.

The tunnel was nearly pitch black and slightly unnerving to George. The only thing resembling hope for him was the literal and metaphorical faint light he was at the end of the tunnel.

After a few minutes of walking they had reached another ladder which descended to said light; it looked like a mere curtain at the bottom to conceal their "hidden" passageway. "What's on the other side, Frankie?"

"Our way out," she replied. "But we'll need to be quick. Come on now."

Frankie descended the ladder and waded through the curtain and into whatever lay ahead. Aldrea followed, looking back once for reassurance from George. He nodded, then went down and out.

They emerged through a vertical tapestry which decorated a pillar of the grand hall George had seen a thousand times, and he began to question how many other passages he'd missed. At the bend of the hall was a small window, perhaps six feet from the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, Frankie slipped off her shoe and tossed it through the window which shattered noisily.

"George I'll need a boost!" Frankie ordered.

"This is your plan?" said George frantically. He heard the guards approaching from multiple directions.