Aiden took in the look on the stable-master’s face and was satisfied. They had taken him off-guard, yes, but he wasn’t truly surprised to see them. There was no urgent, calculating movement of the eyes, no desperate casting about for a weapon. Gray had urged him to trust his judgement regarding the stable-master, and yet Aiden hadn’t been able to fully rid himself of the urge to rush the man the second he was over the threshold. The fewer people that know, the better.
Just as Gray had assured him, Cuan was fine. Somehow the boy had found his way into the man’s care. That the stable-master hadn’t immediately traded Cuan in for a reward or a favour was a heartening sign.
“How did you get out?” Cuan asked. He was sitting on a chair, gawping at them as if they had just risen out of the floor like ghosts. He was pale, from worry or fright, and Aiden could see that he had been crying.
“With great difficulty,” Gray said. “If it hadn’t been for Kara, we’d have taken turns on a headsman’s block in the morning.”
The boy looked down at the floor, blinking furiously to tamp down the tears that were welling up again. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t come and help you. I just ran away.” He sniffed, and his voice caught in his throat. “I didn’t even get my sword.”
Gray glanced at Kara, who shrugged, and then at Aiden. Aiden pointed back at him, and then at Cuan. Your boy, your problem. Gray looked confused and unsure, but even so Aiden knew he was the one to deal with it. A familiar face would be more of a comfort than any well-turned consolation.
“That doesn’t matter, lad. None of it does.” Gray said. “What’s important is that you got out, and that you’re safe. That was the right thing to do. You want to prove yourself, keep doing what you’re doing.”
“But she managed to save you,” Cuan said. Aiden winced at the ringing, accusatory tone in the boy’s voice and looked at Kara to head off the possibility of an outburst. Kara was looking away, doing a fine job of appearing not to notice.
Gray chuckled. “Son, I doubt any man here could have done what she did today.” The smile faded from his face. “Listen, what happened today was beyond anything we could have planned for. Lord Baird and I have a lifetime of experience between us, and it almost saw us killed outright. What Kara did was brave, yes, but it was also incredibly lucky.”
“And I had to leave you to do it,” Kara said. “I’m sorry, Cuan, but when I left you in the hall I wasn’t thinking. I was so confused that the only thing I could think of was getting away. I didn’t realise until later that I’d left you to fend for yourself. I shouldn’t have.”
Cuan gaped at her, the wind spilled from his sails. A quicker head would take advantage of that, Aiden thought, and he cursed himself for thinking it.
“So what happened to you in there?” Ambrose asked. “What happened with the king?”
“A demon killed him,” said Gray.
“The thing in that bottle, then?”
Gray nodded, and tapped Aiden on the leg as he did it. It was subtle and quick - the reminder of a secret they shared. Aiden was surprised, but not so much that he couldn’t understand its meaning. Wait. Let it play.
Ambrose scoffed and nodded, as if confirming something that he had known forever. “No wonder that lad you brought in was so bloody scared of it,” he said.
“It’s worse than you think,” Gray said. “It took hold of the princess.”
The stable-master’s eyes widened. “Took hold of her?”
“Took her over. Possessed her. Call it what you like, but that thing now walks around in her body.”
Ambrose sat down heavily, putting his hand on his knees as if catching his weight there. He shook his head. “You mean the princess-”
“The queen,” Aiden interrupted, earning a wild-eyed look from the man.
“The queen is…she’s a…demon?”
“Inside, yes,” Gray said. “That’s why they thought we were trying to kill her, too.”
“This is- I can’t-” The man stumbled over his words, trying to find something to say.
“We need to get out of the city,” Aiden said. “As soon as we can.”
“You’re not staying?”
“We can’t. The second they discover we’re missing, they’ll pull this place apart looking for us. Kara, too, once they find out how she helped us escape.”
There was a noise from outside, and Aiden turned as the door opened behind him. A young groom poked his head round the door. “There’s something-” he began, his voice faltering as he took in the rest of the room’s occupants. His eyes widened, flaring in panic, and Aiden moved, crossing the gap between them in two strides. He grabbed the boy by the collar and heaved him inside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Siv in the stable-yard, her bow drawn, taking aim straight at him. He kicked the door shut, and there was a solid thunk as the arrow hit it.
“Does this door lock?” He asked the stable-master.
“No,” the man said. “What is it?”
Aiden gave the groom a shove towards the corner, pointing a warning finger at him to let him know to stay there and out of trouble. His role as bait was done for the day. “Get that table over to the door,” he said. “They know we’re in here.”
Cuan and Kara were bundled to one side as Gray and Ambrose heaved the table up and across the room, wedging it tight against the door and following it up with their weight. Aiden put his shoulder to it, too, and as he did the first, massive impact shuddered through it. On the other side of the door there was a roar of frustration that was unmistakably Einar.
“I thought they were your friends,” Gray said.
“So did I,” Aiden said. “But I think we’ve put that behind us now.”
Kara was looking round the room in a panic. “There is another way out of here, isn’t there?”
Another blow impacted against the door. Aiden swore loudly. The three of them held against it, but the force was unbelievable. It felt as though every rib in Aiden’s chest had just been rattled loose, and that another blow like it would reduce them to powder. “There bloody better be,” he said.
“There’s a door over there,” Ambrose said, “behind the racks. We used to use it but they complained about the draft and sealed it up a few winters back.”
“Cuan,” Gray said, “get that rack down.”
Cuan heaved at the edge of the rack, the heavy wooden frame and its load barely moving as he pulled at it. Aiden started forward to help him, but a third blow hit the door, making the barricade jerk viciously and sending him sprawling. He picked himself up and threw his weight back against it as another hit landed, the efforts outside emboldened by the success of the last assault.
Kara stepped up the rack alongside Cuan, lifting one foot to press against the wall as she got her fingers into the gap behind the wood and pulled, the strain of it forcing a grunt out of her. The rack tilted, then fell, coming down with a crash in the middle of the floor. Behind it was a door, nailed shut with a bar across it and scraps of leather and cloth stuffed into the gaps between the door and the stone wall that held it. Cuan cast about around the table, looking for some sort of tool to open it with.
“We’ve no crowbar, “Ambrose said. “Get some of that tack behind it, maybe you can heave it open that way.”
As Cuan searched through the spilled tack, Kara pulled the stuffing out from around the bar, making a gap for the loops of leather to fit through. From outside, Aiden heard a roar of preparation, the sound of men making ready to charge, and he bore down, pressing his shoulder tight against the barricade. As bad as the previous hits had been, this was far worse. The door bulged on the latch and Aiden knew from the sound of splintering wood that the tiny patch of ironwork had been the only thing keeping the door from springing open. It would not stand much more of the same.
“Get more through,” he said to Cuan, who was busy threading the tack behind the bar on the door. “As much as you can.”
Aiden watched the boy and Kara work at it, the urge to scream at them building strong in his chest. You won’t be helping any. He swallowed it down, and waited for the next attempt on the outside door. “Hold this one tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “While they’re getting ready for another, we need to help them pull that bar loose.” The two other men said nothing, but he felt them settle their weight, getting ready for the shock of impact.
It came not longer after, and was as hard as anything Aiden had ever felt, but he was glad of it because it made him absolutely certain that he was going to get through that door and into the palace. There was no way he wanted to stick around and take another hit like it. The three of them recovered, and as one they crossed the room and took up a strap each. Aiden looked around at the others, braced his foot against the door, and wrapped the strips of leather tight around his wrist to keep them from slipping. He nodded, and together, they pulled at the bar.
Aiden’s first thought was, it’s not working. The pressure on his wrist was too much, and as he pulled there was a groaning sense of separation as if the joint was peeling apart while the bar remained implacably still. As soon as he had thought it, the wood started to give way. Moving with glacial slowness, the bar started peeling away from the door, easing away and down, getting faster and faster as the gap opened up. He jumped back as the whole thing swung free, suspended from the straps they’d used to haul it loose. He unwrapped his wrist, revealing a twist of raw skin that burned hot with pain as the fresh air hit it, and kicked the bar out of the way. He reached for the door latch.
“Are you all ready?” Aiden asked, and was met with nods. He lifted the latch and - thank the bastard Gods - the door swung open. He ushered the others through into the palace as the roar went up from outside, Einar readying to ram the door one final time. He didn’t stick around to welcome them. Aiden slipped through the door, pulling it shut behind him.
And that's it for this week! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, don't forget to vote, and if you want to leave a comment, I do read them all and try to get back to every one. And if you've really enjoyed Kingdom's Fall so far, why not reccomend it to a friend?
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