The Fires of Esus - Ranger's Apprentice

Chapter 26: Whacking Indeed

Horace threw open one door, and then another, cursing to himself.

How does Will always build armies out of nothing? He plots and schemes, and uses any men he can find.

So where in the hell is the Redmont garrison?

He had searched every single barrick in the castle, peered into every bedroom, and even pulled aside curtains and sheets. The green-clothed Celts were still up on the ramparts, that much he knew. And from what he'd seen, they hadn't been causing any trouble.

There had been a few Redmont soldiers in their usual stations; outside the Baron's quarters, closing off certain hallways, and even some in the various kitchens and servants quarters who weren't on duty that day. But when Horace had asked them what was happening, none of them seemed to know anything.

"My Lord, last I saw it was our regular morning shift up on the walls today. No green coats anywhere, except for where they usually are. Is anything wrong?" one of the men had asked, fear in his eyes. He was speaking to Sir Horace, the premier knight of the realm, champion of their Princess Regent, soon-to-be Queen. If there was anyone to impress, it was him. And if there was anyone to be scared of when something was potentially wrong, it was also him.

Horace had waved him off, sensing his nervousness. "I just arrived a few minutes ago, and there were only Celts on the wall. Where would the morning shift have gone if they were dismissed for a break?"

His suspicion was that the Celts had volunteered to cover the wall that morning, offering the Redmont garrison a rest for the few hours before the shift change at noon. Of course, if this Cuinn character was planning anything for this morning, like assassinating the King, perhaps, it would be a very convenient thing to have his own men in control of the wall, and by extension, the gate and the drawbridge.

For this reason, Horace suspected that whatever Cuinn was planning was happening now, or, just maybe, had already happened. Why else would the Celts have volunteered to cover the garrison?

Either way, he needed to find the Redmont Garrison, Will, and the King, all within the next ten minutes.

Or less. That would be even better.

Horace weighed his options in the hallway outside the last of the servants quarters he had searched. He could keep looking in places the men might be resting in, he could ask people as he passed by them if they knew, or... he could go straight to the wall and ask the Celts himself.

But what would Will say? Asking them directly is the same as offering yourself as a target. If they're in on Cuinn's plan, they'll raise the alarm that you're back and stick you full of swords like a pincushion. Then they'll hunt me down, finish me off, and Cuinn will carry the King's dead body out with him as he leaves with a cheerful wave to everyone else.

Horace knew becoming a pincushion wasn't an option. Jeopardizing Will and the King was even less of an option.

But speed was of the essence, and Horace didn't do complex plans. He found that they didn't usually work in times like these anyway. With such a narrow window of time, and so many things to do, he just needed to set out and do them.

Operation Pincushion, he decided to call it. He knew Will and Halt would love it later, if he ever got the chance to tell them.

He set off at a quick stroll through the hallways, ascending until he reached the narrow passages that lead to the upper wall.

Here we go.

He pushed the door open, and the bright morning sun blinded him briefly. It was just rising over the tops of the trees now, and the Celts were standing at attention in their places along the front wall.