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Wy
Disgust must have surfaced in her expression.
"I could not have escaped the castle without it," he said defensively. "You asked, and I told you—far more than you have said concerning your staff and its crystal. I assume you went to great lengths to acquire it—yes?"
Wy
They came within yards of the bailey gate, framed by its two small barbicans. It was shut tight, and Wy
She couldn't step out and open it to let Shade through—not in plain sight of the portcullis guards. Shade would have to draw one of them down. Wy
Then Shade ducked around her and headed out.
"What is that animal doing?" Chane hissed.
Shade paused before the gate, looking back, and a memory rose in Wy
"Come on," Wy
When Wy
Chane stalled and looked back along the wall. A strange, wary tension flooded his features at the dog's noise.
Wy
"So… what do you have in mind for us?" she asked.
"To scale the wall," he answered, and before she blurted out disbelief, he pointed along the wall's southeastern side. "Get to the corner where that jutting barbican joins the wall."
Wy
Wy
The tops of the wall and barbican were beyond the height of a footman's pike, as any sensible fortification should be. She could still hear Shade barking in the distance.
"Now we climb," Chane said, and unshouldered his pack. "You first."
Wy
He withdrew a coil of narrow rope from his pack, but there was no weight or hook on either end. Obviously it was just something he still carried from his travels rather than part of any carefully considered plan. He began making a large loop in one end, and Wy
Chane collected rope coils with the loop. He glanced both ways along the road, stepped away from the wall, and flung the gathered rope upward.
The rope uncoiled, but its end barely cleared the barbican's wall through a space between two rising ramparts. Chane huffed in irritation. Wy
"Did you even think this through?" she whispered.
"I do not recall you offering a plan of your own."
She wasn't sure what angered her more—his half-witted scheme, or that she couldn't think of a better one.
Chane crouched against the wall and drew his sword. Before she could berate him again, he pulled off his cloak. He wrapped it around the blade and cinched the material tight by knotting the rope around the sword's midpoint. Wy
And that was all she heard.
Wy
Chane stood with the rope's end in hand and looked off the same way. "Is she in?" he whispered.
"I don't know. Maybe," she answered, and Chane scowled at her. "I think she needs a line of sight to… Oh, never mind, just hurry up!"
Chane pulled on the rope, and it drew taut this time.
Wy
Chane glanced once and couched low. He hooked a thumb in the air over his shoulder, pointing toward his own back. Wy
Get on… now! he mouthed.
It was one thing to be caught breaking curfew. It was entirely another to be found breaking in by the city guard.
Wy
With one boot braced against the wall stones, he pulled hard on the rope.
Wy
Wy
His cloak-wrapped sword was anchored across the opening, but when she turned back to help him, he was already up. He pushed her down, crouched beside her, and began hauling up the rope as fast as he could.
Wy
They came from right below in the street as the rope's trailing end flopped onto the barbican's platform. She and Chane remained still, waiting for the steps to pass by.
Then silence—the footfalls stopped altogether.
Wy
It was far too long before the footfalls resumed, moving onward until they grew faint somewhere off toward the bailey wall's southern corner. Chane rose just enough to peer through the rampart space. He nodded to her.
Wy
He nodded. "I will hide it better once we are inside."
Wy
Wy
She led the way along the wall's ramparts and kept glancing up. But she never saw even a flicker of light in any of the tower windows.
When they reached the library on the northeastern side, Chane boosted her by one foot. She peeked through the nearest window, but by the light of wall-mounted cold lamps she saw no one along the nearest shelves facing the windows. When they climbed inside, Wy