The Jester: More Than a Jester (2)
Episode 40: "The Hiding Place"
The following morning, while Palisade’s residents were finishing their breakfasts, Mardans, Sergeant Rayan, Nekhar, and Aran assembled in the yard in front of the Palace Guard barracks. Captain Arius soon joined them, accompanied by Captain Siral from Prince Lirens’ company. The gray sky above them threatened rain, and a steady breeze scattered their visible breaths, making the cool morning even colder.
“Captains,” Mardans said, nodding in greeting. “The king has given his permission to conduct a search for the fugitive traitor, Formosis Tilanta. The evidence convinces me he is hiding in the environs of the Steward’s Mansion, but I cannot fix his exact whereabouts. So, I will take these three,” he pointed to Rayan, Nekhar, and Aran, “with me to call upon Steward-Heir Amancuse. I need his permission to explore part of the ducal estate. If I am correct, our search will spring the fox from his den.”
“Are you saying, Lieutenant, that you think Formosis has been hiding at his father’s house all along?” Captain Arius asked, incredulous. “That is hard to believe! Do you also believe the Steward or his heir is complicit?”
“No to both questions,” Mardans replied. “We suspect Formosis is close by but not on the ducal property proper. We also believe neither Amandes nor Amancuse knows where he is. He is playing them as much as us.”
“What a thoroughly odious person,” Arius said with distaste, perhaps louder than he meant to.
“Indeed,” Mardans said. He cleared his throat. “The king also authorized deploying the Palace Guard and the Prince’s company to contain the fugitive should he bolt. Both captains have been given their cordon positions: the Guard near the Steward’s Mansion and the Prince’s company near the Tanjari Embassy on the Third Level. Captain Siral, a red signal means the fugitive is heading toward you. A white one means you can stand down.”
“Understood,” Captain Siral acknowledged. “I will make sure someone keeps an eye on the Mansion at all times.”
“Excellent,” Mardans said, smiling. “Good hunting, gentlemen!”
The three palace guard members and Aran trotted their horses to the Mansion’s gate, and the gatekeeper, recognizing their uniforms, let them pass unchallenged. As he had at the last visit, the footman hustled to greet them as they dismounted. After the usual pleasantries, Mardans handed him a note from Alfons to Amancuse and requested to speak with the Steward-Heir. He led them inside, asking them to wait in the hall while he delivered the king’s message.
Two minutes later, Amancuse came himself to greet them, leading them into an adjacent parlor. He called for refreshments, and all but Aran sat on the fine furnishings. The young man from Blayne took a position next to Mardans’ chair, hands clasped behind his back, watching and hearing everything as Tiena had instructed.
“Lieutenant!” Amancuse said with genuine delight. “I had not expected another visit so soon! From the king’s letter, I assume you have caught a break in your investigation. He asks me to give you my full cooperation, which I will, of course.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Mardans said, grateful he would not have to convince Amancuse to give him his help. “Yes, we have a theory about where your brother is hiding. Had I been more astute during my last visit, I may have solved the problem then. Two major pieces of the puzzle came to light as we talked, but I failed to recognize them until yesterday.
“But I have a few questions to ask you, my lord,” he continued. “The first may seem a bit odd, ancient history, but your answer may help me. You told us that your mother often sent you to look for Désira and Formosis when they hid themselves, and you failed to find them more often than not. When you did find them, where were they?”
Amancuse’s eyebrows rose. “That was a long time ago! I found them in many places, of course. They couldn’t hide in the same place all the time! I would have found them more often if they had.”
“But did they favor any particular area for their hiding places?” Mardans asked.
“Hmm,” the Steward-Heir replied, “I have to think about that.”
As he contemplated the question, servants knocked and entered, and he motioned for them to serve his guests the hot drinks, small sandwiches, and cut fruit they had brought. Once done, they withdrew, closing the door behind them. The men helped themselves while Amancuse continued to mull his response.
“As I said, I found them all over the estate,” he finally said, reaching for a cup of tea, “but if I found them any place more often, it would be below the back terrace.”
“Would that be near where the estate’s escape passage is?” Mardans asked.
Amancuse froze as he brought the cup to his lips and stared at him. “Why, yes, it is. In case of an attack, the escape tunnel was dug as far back on the property as possible. There is an interior entrance and an exterior one.”
Mardans nodded, accepting the logic. “I assume, then, it exits somewhere near Formosis’ house, the current temporary Tanjari Embassy, directly below, as I noticed during my last visit.”
“Correct again,” the Steward-Heir said, his growing concern reflected in his narrowed features. “Look, I’ve given away the family’s secrets, so in return, tell me where this line of questioning is leading.”
“The information is safe with us,” Mardans assured him. “But one final question: When was the last time anyone checked the condition of the escape passage?”
Amancuse sat up, put his teacup back on its saucer, and stroked his chin as he thought. “It has been a while, probably a good five years or so. That’s a job we let the guard captain—”
“Let me guess,” Mardans said into the silence after the Steward-Heir abruptly stopped speaking. “Captain Prytan Verus was tasked with inspecting it every now and then to ensure it was clean and passable.”
Cursing, Amancuse slammed a fist on the arm of his chair. “And I distinctly remember Verus telling me he had taken young Formosis with him because he was so curious about it! That wretch has been using that tunnel for years to hide or get away, I’m sure of it!”
“And my theory is that he is there right now,” Mardans said, “hiding right under our noses this whole time.”
Amancuse jumped to his feet. “Let’s go get him! I’m ready to wring his neck myself for all the troubles he’s caused.”
The others remained where they were. “That’s why I brought the Palace Guard and the Prince’s company with me,” Mardans said. “Captain Arius is outside your gates with a couple dozen palace guards, and Captain Siral has taken half of Lirens’ company to Formosis’ house below to cover the exit. It would be best if we let them handle it.”
“Will you be joining them?” the Steward-Heir demanded.
Mardans nodded and shrugged. “Yes, I’m one of them. Not only do I not want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want to deepen any hard feelings between brothers. Your family has been through enough.”
Amancuse sighed, relaxing enough to return to his seat. “You’re right. My presence would just complicate things.”
“Thank you, lord,” Mardans said, relieved that he did not have to argue the point further. “You will have to unlock the entry door for us. Are there any side tunnels or multiple exits we need to know about?”
The Steward-Heir shook his head. “No, it’s a straight shot. Lots of stairs, landings at the turnings, and a short tunnel to the one exit, from what I remember. I haven’t been down there in many years.”
“Where is the exit, specifically?” Mardans pressed.
“Again, if memory serves, it exits directly across the road from the western end of the lower estate’s near wall.” He gestured toward Chalk Lake.
“Thank you, lord,” Mardans said. He looked up at Aran. “Send Captain Siral the red signal, and try to put it as near the exit spot as possible, across from where we climbed over the embassy wall.”
“Yes, sir!” Aran said and left the room for the back terrace, reaching for the slingshot he had tucked in his jacket pocket. He had tied the handkerchief around a few small stones, just in case he had to fling it out from the Mansion’s rear wall.
The four remaining men rose. Amancuse led them toward the rear of the house, through a disguised door in a study, and down two flights of stairs into a musty basement. Muted light filtered through a few small, grimy windows high on one wall. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and dust covered every surface, turning all the discarded furniture a moldy gray. Against the south wall, a tall, cloth-covered painting leaned next to stacked chairs, an old hat and cloak stand, and a handful of crates and boxes that may have dated from the family’s original occupants in the time of Lorens I.
The Steward-Heir stopped before the leaning painting, and on closer inspection, it turned out to be just a frame draped with a thick, dusty cloth. He swung it open like a door on hinges, and behind it stood a locked door that measured four feet wide and six high, made of heavy wooden slabs bound with iron near its top and bottom. The key slid easily into its slot and turned noiselessly but for a soft click as the mechanism disengaged. Amancuse pulled on the iron handle, and the door opened without a sound.
“Someone’s been keeping the hinges and locks oiled,” Rayan remarked. “I would have expected much more creaking and whining on doors this old.”
“Me, too,” Amancuse admitted. “I seem to remember them being nosier when I was last here.”
Mardans turned to him and bowed. “Thank you, lord, for your cooperation. We will take it from here. All I ask is that you show Captain Arius to this cellar so he can mount a guard or two here while we go below.”
Amancuse nodded. “I’ll return soon with the captain and his men.”
Five minutes later, the three palace guards heard many footsteps on the stairs above them. The Steward-Heir descended into the basement with Arius and four guards from the evening shift. One guard carried a small lantern, which he handed to Rayan, saying, “You’ll need this down there, sir.”
Indeed, after about a dozen feet, Mardans could make out little in the blackness below. As far as he could see, the stairs, which began beyond a short landing, were made of mortared stone, and the bare earth walls had been bricked over. An empty torch holder hung on the right-hand wall beside another large door, the exterior entrance Amancuse had mentioned.
The thought occurred to Mardans that the stairway, little wider than the door, would be cramped if they needed to use their weapons. It had been designed for flight, not fighting. Despite their holding the high ground, he reckoned a single skilled warrior below the three of them could hold them off long enough for Formosis to flee.
Drawing his long knife, Nekhar slipped through the door, followed by Rayan and Mardans. They descended slowly and quietly, keeping to the left side. Though Mardans had a long knife of his own in his boot, his right hand gripped his coiled whip.
After twenty-five steps, the first landing appeared below their feet. It was no more than five feet square, only big enough to allow the stairs to turn to the left. Another empty torch holder hung on the wall. Rayan lifted the lantern high and peered down the stairwell, and Nekhar’s sharp eyes could make out another landing, which, he signed, appeared to turn once again to the left. Seeing no one and no sign of anyone having been living there, they hurried down to it.
Reaching the landing, they repeated the process and saw the same situation: another identical landing and a turn to the left. Nekhar shrugged and continued on, Rayan tight on his heels. Hearing a sound behind him, Mardans hesitated and looked back to see two burly men dressed all in black reaching for him. Before he had a chance to cry out, one of his attackers swung a ham-sized fist at his head. Though a glancing blow, it proved powerful enough to daze him and make lights explode in his head. He fell against the wall, but the other attacker kept him upright. A sack was pushed over his head, and a moment later, he felt himself picked up, carried a short distance, and roughly thrown to the floor, where he collided with a wall and lost consciousness.
Hearing the scuffle behind them, Nekhar and Rayan rushed back up the stairs, weapons drawn. They turned the corner, expecting to see their lieutenant fighting with whoever had attacked him, but the stairwell was empty. All they saw was a bullwhip lying loose across the last few steps.
A note:
From the present account, it may seem that secret passages riddled the hill of Palisade, but in truth, they were a luxury only the most powerful and wealthy could afford. Thus, the Royal Palace, the Steward’s Mansion, and the Satelen government/Santinetta family had them dug for their various uses, but very few others could. There were rumors that the Angevan and Aertellan embassies had underground passages also, but whether the rumors were true is unknown. Both embassies had extensive basements, however, so their having secret passages under them is not beyond the realm of possibility.
Oh no! Mardans is in a trouble, and doesn't have his whip!
Love the detail and dialog here. Just fantastic!