With a faint growl, he lunges up the last step. I put my hand out to stop them both, afraid Beast will barrel out the door and straight into a passing sentry.
But he leans against the wall and closes his eyes while the jailor pets at his arm.
I peek out into the courtyard. There is nothing there but darkness. “We must make for the east gate. There are only two sentries posted there, and once I have dispatched them, we will be able to get across the bridge unseen. A cart with horses waits there to carry you to the duchess.” The gargoyle’s eyes widen in surprise, then he smiles. At least, I think it’s a smile. It looks far too much like a grimace for me to be certain.
“Can you do it?” I ask, hating that I must trust this mysterious jailor with such matters. “Can you get him to Rennes?”
He nods so hard I fear his neck will snap.
It is easier going outside. For one thing, there are no more stairs, and for another, there is a thick solid wall for the knight to lean against. We make slow, shuffling progress, the skin along my shoulders urging me to hurry, but we cannot. Indeed, it is a miracle we have come this far.
I glance once behind me. A light shines from one of the upper chambers. Good. D’Albret still lingers with Madame Dinan. I wonder whom he will have guarding the door tonight, for he always posts two sentries when he visits her chamber. I find myself hoping that one of them is Captain de Lur, as I would dearly love an excuse to kill him.
When we reach the end of the wall, I see the small gatehouse and the two guards there. They are not standing at attention but instead are speaking together in low voices. “Here.” I thrust a small square of yellow and black fabric at the gargoyle. “You will need this to get out of the city. There are some supplies in the cart, and also some jewels that you can use to purchase what you need. Put the plague flag on the wagon and no one will stop and search you. Understand?”
When he nods his understanding, I motion for him to stay put until my signal, then creep forward.
The guards are grumbling that the others have not come to change the watch and are trying to decide whether they should stay here or go fetch the captain.
Clinging to the wall like a shadow, I move into position behind the first guard. I must kill him—I cannot risk them raising the alarm and I have no idea how long the sleeping draft will last or how deeply the others sleep.
I remind myself that these deaths are necessary. There is no way we can get the knight past the sentries, and if they are d’Albret’s men, they are no doubt guilty of some terrible crime.
The weakest link in my plan is killing the first guard without alerting the second guard to my presence. Speed and stealth are my greatest weapons, for if the second guard sees me, there is a good chance he will call out a warning before I can silence him.
One thing at a time, I remind myself, then slip silently out of my hiding place. I take the cord from my waist and wrap it around my fists as I creep toward the first sentry, looping it once, twice, to be sure it will not slip. When I am directly behind him, I make my move. Sensing me, the guard starts to turn my way, but I step up, quickly slip the cord around his neck, and yank with all my might.
The man jerks in surprise, his weapon clattering to the ground as he scrabbles for the rope at his throat. I pull harder and drive my knee into his back for leverage, dodging his elbow as it tries to connect with my ribs.
But the clatter of his weapon has called the second guard’s attention. His eyes widen when he sees me and his hand goes for his sword as he takes a step forward. I swear, for the first man is still struggling and taking far too long to die. I cannot even let go to reach one of my throwing knives and defend myself. The alerted sentry draws his sword and rushes toward me. I put the dying guard between us to afford myself some protection. There is a small thud, and the attacking guard stiffens in his track, then keels over like a felled tree. I glance up to see the gargoyle, a sling dangling from his right hand and a look of satisfaction on his twisted little face. Just then, my victim finally slumps into death. I do my best to block my mind to his soul as it slithers from his body, and I release the cord from his neck.
The jailor gives me a nod as if to say You’re welcome—even though I have not said thank you—then motions for me to get moving, as if it is he who is leading this rescue.
I tamp down my irritation, and we both hurry back to where the knight leans against the wall. His eyes are closed, and his face is bleached white by his efforts to get this far. I cannot tell if his battle fever has left him or if it still simmers quietly in his veins. Pray Mortain the latter, else we will never get him across the bridge.
Even so, now that his mind is no longer clouded, it is the best time to give him my message. “Listen to me, for this is important. When you get to Rennes, you must get word to the duchess. D’Albret has men inside the city’s walls, men who will open the gates to him when the time comes. Can you remember to tell her that?”
Merde! I cannot tell if he nods in agreement or if his head is simply lolling to the side. Frustrated, I turn to the gargoyle. “Did you get all that?” He nods and I sigh. It will have to do.
I adjust the massive arm around my shoulders, then begin the long torturous journey across the courtyard. At the bridge, the knight pulls his arm off me and uses the side of the bridge as a crutch. I do not argue with him but instead slip ahead to be sure the promised cart is there and to give the driver his instructions and the rest of the payment he was promised.
At first I do not see the wagon, and my heart jolts in dismay, for we cannot coax this man much farther. But when I look again, there it is, tucked deep in the shadows against the city wall, two decrepit-looking mules dozing in their harness. The driver, however, is missing. He must have decided that half the promised payment was better than the entire amount, for at least he’d live long enough to spend it.
I turn back to see the men’s progress across the bridge, but they have paused midway. Do they not realize how closely we have shaved this? We do not have time to stop and admire the scenery. I glance back at the palace windows and see that the light is out in Madame Dinan’s chamber, and renewed urgency fills me. I must get there soon, while he is still tangled in her sheets and distracted.
I rush back to the others. “Hurry! We need to get to the cart before we are seen. New sentries could arrive any moment.”
The jailor looks up at me with his sad little face and shakes his head. He does not think his prisoner can take another step. I glare at him, wishing he would speak so he could be the one to cajole this knight forward. I had not thought it possible to hate myself more than I already did, but the vile things I have called this tortured knight have proven me wrong. “Wake up, you. How dare you sleep while your duchess is in danger?” His eyelids flicker, but that is all. True worry sets in and I must use the most cruel weapon in my arsenal. “They are closing in on her, those men. D’Albret’s men. Do you know what they say about d’Albret? How he treats his women?”