The Abduction of the Flaming Scholar
In a small town, not far from here, lived a young woman who was keen to learn all there is to know about the world. She read every book that she could find and asked long complicated questions of anyone who she deemed to have knowledge that she could soak up. Her parents had tried to deflect her from these activities as the world in which they lived at that time was a difficult place for women scholars, but she was not to be discouraged and her passion for learning remained undimmed, so they had relented and found her a place in an academy for young men which was willing to take her for a high fee. She had soon surpassed all her contemporaries in her abilities, she had learnt to read and speak in three languages and her understanding in mathematics and the sciences was unparalleled, outstripping her teachers before a year was out.
It was in her second year, studying at the academy that something strange happened which was to change her life. One morning, when she entered the lecture hall, there was a gasp from the other students, at first she could not understand why, but when she lifted her arms she was horrified to see that she was covered all over in tiny flames, running up and down the length of her robe. The other students ran towards her proffering their help to put out the flames but she stopped them short and declared that she was not in danger as the flames were not burning the cloth of her gown or generating enough heat to cause her any harm.
The lecturer said that she must leave the hall until the flames had gone away, as it was distracting the other students. She left the hall and from that time on she could only learn by herself with books brought to her from the library. Undeterred, she consumed the books of the library in a way which the small flames that played about her, could not consume her.
She was hidden away from the world by the academic institution at which she studied as they did not want to become infamous for their Flaming Scholar. The young woman was unaware of the outside world and continued her quest of understanding. Then one day, as she was reading quietly, some men, dressed in the habits of a monk, with their faces shielded from the world by their copious hoods, forced their way into her chamber and abducted her by force. Taking her outside to where a closed wagon waited, she was shoved in and the wagon was quickly driven away.
After an hours dark journey, she found herself shut away in a dungeon, which, if truth be told, did not bother her that much as she had been living alone in a smallish room for some weeks. It was the absence of books that, as her captivity grew longer, slowly but surely began to break her heart.
Of course, her parents were distraught at the disappearance of the beloved daughter, they were told that there was only one clue to the identity of the perpetrators of this abduction. This was a description, given by a student who had happened to be passing at the time of the incident. He said that he had seen three men dressed in the habits of a monk, struggling with a cloaked figure who they had bundled into a closed wagon.
Now, it was well known that members of a shadowy organisation called the Order often wore habits and so the parents had to assume that it was they who had taken their girl. This Order was an organisation closely associated with the powers of the land, they were known to disapprove of anything or anyone who threatened to upset the status quo. This would include a young female scholar whose soaring intellect had caused her to become clothed in flame. In fact, the mere existence of a female scholar of any ability was enough to spur them into action.
Because of the Order’s well-known connections with the local authorities, the girl’s parents were reluctant to ask for help from the local constabulary as it was known that they were in league with the Order. So, in desperation, they visited a local person who was known to be a Guardian of the Cave, a semi-secret group who were willing to help solve problems and were, above all, fiercely independent and incorruptible. The Guardian listened sympathetically to their story and then said, ‘We have been aware of the Order for some time and have several times brushed up against their activities during our dealings with the problems of the world. This may be the time for The Guardians of the Cave to confront the Order once and for all. To this end I will contact my fellow Guardians as I think that in this instance we must work together as a team.’
To that end a meeting was organised at which a rescue plan was to be designed.
The Meeting
The meeting room was the kitchen of an old rambling farmhouse belonging to the cousin of the Innkeeper. The house was situated in an extremely out of the way corner of the countryside, surrounded by flat, open fields, which gave a good view of the only approach. It was also not far from the coast, which had proved useful on more than one occasion. In the centre of the large room was a huge old pine table with a mottled surface, the visual history of countless generations who had sat and eaten, drank, talked, argued and agreed through the previous century and the scars of cooking preparations without number. It was clean though, smoothed by many a scrubbing and currently set with several unmatching tankards and mugs surrounding a large flagon of cider, still corked, a loaf of bread on a bread board with a big knife, a large cut of cheese and some butter on a small board. Around the table were set ten chairs of uncertain ancestry, two larger chairs with arms were set at either end. An oil lamp was burning brightly, hung from a hook on the beams above the table, throwing shadows outwards towards the walls.
The room was L-shaped with the table sitting square in the middle of the larger portion. There was a large fireplace which almost filled one wall with a complicated series of wrought iron racks and hangers for cooking, two cauldrons, one huge, hang there with a large ladle close by. One side of the fireplace was stacked with cut logs and a black kettle was hung on an arm which could easily be swung over the heat. The fire on this day was just a glow of embers in a large pile of ash which still managed to keep the kitchen warm enough to make those entering take off their outer coats and loosen their gear. There were some clothes drying on the rack hoisted up high by a rope above the fireplace.
The rest of the kitchen walls were clear apart for a few ropes of onions and herbs on hooks, but a huge oak dresser challenged for mastery of the room, opposite the fire between the two windows. On its shelves were two massive blue and white carving dishes, several smaller dishes with a different pattern in blue, green and yellow, some jugs and a stack of everyday plates that had not been put away in the cupboards of the lower section. A set of two large sinks with a hand pump to one end, stood in the smaller section of the room, with wooden draining boards to either side. The two windows were set back deep into the thickness of the wall, allowing space for two wide window seats with worn covers. A black and white dog was asleep under the table and rain could be heard tapping intermittently at the small paned windows.
The first to enter was Chloe, the Shepherdess, dressed in her work gear, her waterproof still dripping onto the flags over one arm, her hair caught up under a scarf. She leant her stick against the wall by the door, circled the room once, then she crossed to the sinks where she worked the pump until water came through, enough to wash over her hands. Drying them on her sacking apron she drew out the chair at the head of the table and sat down.
Close behind her came Danial, they had arrived together. He was dry apart from his hair and boots, his hair was a black mass lying flat on his head with stray coils escaping down his forehead which dripped occasionally, he had left his coat, to drip, in the hall. He pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face, went over to the sink, leant over and shook his head like a dog.
The noise of it woke the dog under the table and it looked out at the visitors, then put its head back down on its paw and rested there watching the movement as Danial moved back to the table, sat down on Chloe’s right hand side, looking across the table at the fire, took the cork from the flagon and sniffed the contents, said ‘ Hmm,’ and put the cork back in. ‘Hmm bad or Hmmmmm good?’ asked Chloe.
‘Hmm, I would drink some of that if we weren’t here for business.’ said Danial and with that he reached over and cut some bread and cheese. Tipping his chair back, he began to chew on the bread and cheese as his head started to steam ever so slightly.
The next to enter was Vivainne the Knight Exemplar, she was dressed for riding in a stout skirt and boots, she took off the oilskin that had been draped around her shoulders and threw her broad brimmed hat onto a side table, her hair was cut short in the manner of knights, she had a knife and a short bladed sword, both in scabbards attached to her belt. She sat down the other side of Chloe, nodded to other two, took out her smaller knife, a vicious looking affair with a long bright blade and cut herself a small chunk of cheese. Raising it up on the end of her knife, she inspected the cheese before putting it into her mouth.
The next to enter was the Hunter, a man who looked older than his forty-five years. Exposure to the elements over the years had taken its toll on his face and his skin looked like well-kept leather. He was completely dry and had no coat, he was carrying some papers and maps which, once he had sat down next to Danial, he proceeded to shuffle, spreading some on the table and putting others aside. He reached over and poured himself a half a glass of cider. Looking up to the others he held the flagon up as a question but was greeted with smiling shakes of the head. His name was Jean Jaeger.
The fifth person to enter came in talking to the sixth. She was simply dressed and in the act of taking off her great coat, the hood of which had kept her sandy coloured hair, which was bound up behind her head, dry. She continued to chatter as she draped her coat out carefully over the carver chair at the other end of the table from Chloe.
‘I only got the message the day before yesterday, otherwise I would have been better prepared, anyway, I am here now.’ She looked up as she finished talking and a broad smile transformed her face. ‘So,’ she said to the room, ‘here we are. All in one piece?’ she asked the room and was rewarded with more smiles in return. Jean poured her out a mug of cider and passed it to her across the table. ‘Thanks.’ She said looking directly at his face as she took her seat opposite Chloe.
The sixth person entered from the shadows into the main lighted area around the table, he was slight of build but not short, ‘That’s all to the good then Violette.’ He said, finishing the conversation, he moved directly to the fireplace where he replenished the fire, raking away some ash from the embers and placing a couple of small logs over the hottest place. Turning again to the table he busied himself, cutting a large chunk of bread and two slices of cheese. He filled one of the larger tankards to the brim from the cider flagon and taking his booty, retired to the left-hand window seat where he set out his picnic on the cloth seat and proceeded to eat and drink. His name was Davide Sandor, a southerner who had moved into the area with his parents as a boy and now made his way in the world as a healer and physician.
The last person to arrive looked tired, he was the owner of the farm and cousin to Danial. He too washed his hands at the pump before sitting himself squarely down next to the woman called Violette. He was a solid figure with large hands and broad shoulders, he pulled food and drink towards him and helped himself. Having swallowed several large mouthfuls and a draught of cider he sat up and looked at the group. ’So,’ he growled ‘let’s make this plan. I may not be at the helm of this escapade, but my first thought is that we need a reconnaissance.’
With that the six at the table sat forwards and Davide Sandor brought the rest of his drink back to the main table and sat between Danial and the Farmer.
Chloe rose up and stood with her hands resting on the table, ‘Thank you all for being here and committing to this enterprise, this is a greater problem than we are used to facing. As you know The Order is involved, they’ve been snapping at our heels for some time, I think that they are beginning to understand that we are diametrically opposed to their mission and a stand-off is inevitable. I see that solving this problem is an opportunity to act before we are taken unawares, if we get it right we can save the girl and set them back so far that they will cease to be an issue, and yes you are right,’ she gestured towards the farmer in recognition, ‘a reconnaissance mission is a must, but I think that we can set up the bare bones of a plan tonight and then tidy it up when we are in receipt of all the details of the personnel and layout that a closer look will furnish.’
This began a long discussion that lasted long into the night, never heated but never void of strong opinion, the skeleton of a plan was built, brick by brick. They already had a sketch of the layout of the fortified Chateau wherein the Order made its headquarters and a map of the surrounding town and countryside. What they needed now was up to date information on the whereabouts of the personnel on any given day. The whereabouts of the prisoner in question was essential as was the nature of the actions necessary to undermine the power of the Order.
The morning found the kitchen empty save for the dog and a lanky boy, not more than fourteen years old. He was clearing the table on which the remains of a meal were strewn. The picked clean carcass of a chicken and an empty pan, plus numerous plates and mugs were all covering the table with no apparent order. The boy was transferring a pile of plates to the sink when the Farmer entered.
‘Good work Thomas,’ he said as he placed his hand fleetingly on the passing boy’s shoulder, ‘When you’ve done, get yourself some food and get yourself off to school, the day will not wait for us.’ Without waiting for a reply, he turned back out of the door and called, ‘Come Jess!’ The dog under the table, one moment asleep, was through the door as if it had been struck by lightning.
The farmer was last seen disappearing towards a large barn with Jess the dog trotting close to his heel.
The Reconnaissance
As the old couple entered through the gateway of the chateau they were waylaid by the guards. The old fortified chateau occupied the main part of the centre of the small town which was situated on a small hill rising out of the surrounding fields of vineyards. ‘We are come to ask favour of his Highness the Count,’ said the man clearly, ‘where should we go to join the supplicants?’ the guard looked them over with a disinterested glance and without saying anything he pointed to a small door off the inner courtyard of the chateau where a small queue was formed. Danial and Chloe, gently disguised to resemble an older couple of limited means, hoping that a walking stick, some ashes in their hair and a slight stoop of the back might suffice as suitable cover, made their way quietly to the end of the queue. The door was eventually opened wide from within and a disinterested arm beckoned to the waiting supplicants.
Once inside, the chateau was not as impressive as it had promised, with its three circular towers and complicated wide tiled rooves. The high ceilinged corridor that they entered was dimly lit by a few smoking oil lamps and a couple of small windows high up in the wall, the two Guardians fell in behind the main group as they were led through the shadows towards the main hall where their petitions would be heard by the Count. They hung back and as soon as they were safely detached from the group and finding themselves in a hallway in the form of a cross, the two nodded to each other and split up in opposite directions.
Chloe’s agreed task, apart from assessing the disposition of any guards and inhabited rooms, was to discover the cell where the Scholar was being held. To this end she picked up a wooden tray which had been left on a small table and, as soon as someone, a common soldier as it transpired, approached, she lowered her countenance and asked subserviently of him, ‘Could you tell me the way to the young lady’s room as I am to collect her breakfast dishes? I am new here and I seem to have lost my way,’
The soldier rolled his eyes to show how little he cared for this encounter but duly said, ‘You have come entirely the wrong way. Continue on down this corridor to the spiral stairs, go up to the top floor and in the long corridor there is her room, a guard is there who has a key,’ and with that he swept on his way without a look back. Chloe did as she had been told and came to the corridor where a guard was sleeping, sitting with his back against the wall, his head lolling forwards, and his legs outstretched. From a pocket under her cloak she drew a small box which she opened, inside was a layer of white putty. Concealing this under the tray that she carried, she bustled up to the guard and coughed. The guard shook his head and looking up at her said ‘What do you want?’ ‘I have come to clear the things,’ said Chloe gesturing with the tray, ‘Hand me the key and there will no need for you to rise.’ The guard rummaged at the keys on his belt and came up with a large black one. He handed it up to her and shrugged himself back into a comfortable position, closed his eyes and sighed. Chloe used the key to open the door and quickly went inside, turning, she locked the door again from the inside.
‘You are new, what is your name? Where is the usual woman, also this is not the usual time for taking the plate, why the changes?’ asked a voice from behind Chloe as she listened quietly for a moment at the door. Turning, Chloe saw an amazing sight, there sitting on a chair beneath a high window was a young woman with her hair in a bun, simply dressed in a long tunic that reached to the ground, this tunic was absolutely covered in tiny flickering flames, the flames cast a light about the woman which made her seem to glow, Chloe gasped.
‘I know,’ said the young woman wearily, ’It seems that I am destined to amaze, although I have noticed that the flames do dim slightly when I am bored, if I could only….’ she was about to continue talking, as was obviously her way, when Chloe put her finger to her lips and said, ‘Shhhh now, we may not have long,’ as she spoke she took an impression of the key into the putty, closed the box and replaced it in the pocket inside her short cloak.
‘My name is Chloe and I am come to make good your escape, you have seen me take an impression of the key with which I shall free you tomorrow night, but now you must tell me quickly of the regime within which you are kept, how many guards are nearby, also any useful information that might be pertinent to your release.’
The girl rose in excitement, mastered her emotions and sat down again. Speaking quickly, she painted a picture of the shape of her days, who guarded her, who brought her meals and what she knew of the chateau’s layout. She added that she had found that a thick cloak would almost completely stifle the radiance of the flames without causing any further conflagration and giving some measure of disguise. She claimed to know this because she had tried it with the blanket from the bed.
Having consoled the girl that she would return the next day and that she would be seeing her parents soon enough, Chloe composed herself, plate on tray and back stooped. She unlocked the door and came out of the cell into the corridor.
Meanwhile, Danial had scouted around the great hall and discovered that he could gain entrance to the minstrel’s gallery undetected. He lay there now amongst the minstrel’s empty stools, out of sight but well able to hear the conversations of the Count and the supplicants not so far below his position. The hall was not especially large but richly embellished with carved dark wood panelling and draped tapestries covering the doors to prevent draughts. A large fireplace with a small fire in it did little to make for comfort. To one side of the hall sat a long table with benches along each side and a great throne chair at the head. The minstrel’s gallery was only a metre and a half wide with a carved balustrade which afforded a view of half the hall if Danial dared to raise his head.
The supplicants had nearly finished their pleas without, it must be said, much sympathy for their problems from the Count who seemed bored and disconnected from the proceedings. When the business of the day was over the Count ordered and ate some bread and meat with two or three mugs of beer. Then, as Danial had hoped, he called for his lieutenants of the Order with the intention holding a planning session.
When they were all present, the Count sitting at the head of the long table and eight of his trusted men sitting along the benches, the Count outlined his intentions.
‘We need more foot soldiers, and to that end we need more funds to hand. We have been funded to this point from my family fortune which has been kept at my family home these last years. I have organised for the entire wealth of our organisation to be moved here tomorrow. We will be able to pay for more mercenaries and spread our influence far wider, I would also like to break down these Guardians of the Cave that keep getting in our way. To this end a covered wagon will be travelling with an escort tomorrow night, arriving around midnight bringing the funds to us, or so the escort will believe. I do not trust these mercenaries and will not entrust our wealth to them. There will be empty chests in the wagon, at the same time a large farm cart will follow, bringing us the real treasure.’
We must prepare a safe room in the dungeons, prepare a set of guards to take care of it, I am relying on you two, (Danial supposed that he must have pointed as he said this) to choose men who are either trusted enough or well paid enough to be suitable for this action.
Danial rolled quietly onto his back as he tried to take this all in, he could not believe his luck at finding himself present at the very moment that the Count, leader of the Order, revealed his weak point. He was unsure whether to cut and run with this information or wait and see if anything more valuable was to be delineated. He knew the road that the wagons would take as he was well aware where the Counts family estates were positioned.
He decided to retreat, crawling carefully backwards through the doorway at the back of the gallery. But as he turned and rose to his feet, he almost bowled over a fully armed soldier who, when he had steadied himself, was looking at him quizzically.
‘What are you doing, pray tell?’ said the guard. Danial, aware that he was still close to the door of the gallery, moved away smiling, exaggerating his stoop and leaning on his stick. ‘Wrong door, looking for the privy, couldn’t wait till we got home I’m afraid, is it down this way?’
‘It is not anywhere for the likes of you’ said the soldier, ‘the behaviour of you supplicants is beyond comprehension. Get out of here right now or you’ll be getting out on the end of my boot!’
‘Thank you, sir, thank you very much indeed,’ muttered Danial as he shuffled away quickly and made his way to the entrance door.
Ten minutes later, Chloe and Danial rendezvoused at the entrance to the small town square in front of the chateau gates and moved away into the side streets.
The Diversion
At exactly eleven of the clock the next night, a figure, barely seen in the darkness and shadows that clung to the chateau walls, lifted a hatchway in the roadway that was used to gain access to the cellars of the building, he slipped quietly down into the space below and the hatchway door lowered back into place without making a sound. Deep inside the lowest levels of the chateau, in the vaulted spaces, where the empty wine barrels were stored, there were rooms which had not been visited for many years. The figure, first found in the shadows of the street above can now be rediscovered stalking the lowest levels, alone except for the elusive rats. He moved quietly through the dark corridors without seeming to be in need of light, sure of foot and sure of his destination he was soon crouching at the base of the staircase that led up into the kitchens, looking up and listening for any activity above. Satisfied that this part of the building was asleep he climbed the stairs and peered out into the great kitchens, a place that was normally a hive of activity, now peaceful and serene in the sombre light of a single lamp, turned low and guttering.
Moving out into the room, he began to gather all the cloths that he could find, a whole rack of aprons and all the other random cloths that a kitchen requires. He piled them up in front of the great cooking fireplace, then, searching amongst the pokers and cooking rails to find just the right ones that he needed, he stepped inside the fireplace and proceeded to jam the rails and pokers across the massive chimney which served the fire itself, working with his arms above his head .When he was sure of his work, he lifted the pile of cloths, pushing them up into the chimney itself, past the rails which he had set in place, prodding them into the corners so that no chink was left that the smoke, gently rising from the ashes of yesterday’s fire, could escape by. Instead, the smoke wound its way out of the fireplace and started to coil, sinuously out into the room. Not satisfied yet with the effect that had been created, the man started to load more wood onto the fire and inevitably as the fire started to take, the smoke produced, thickened and grew in volume, gathering at first along the ceiling before swelling downwards and beginning to seep out through the top of the doorways into the main parts of the castle.
Davide Sandor, for it was he, stood back to assess his work, the fire was now flaring up well and the smoke was now billowing out into the room so that he needs must bend down to breath freely. He threw several more logs onto the fire and then, taking up an apron that had proved surfeit to requirement, he dipped it into a large jug of liquid which was left there on the table, he threw that dampened cloth, for good measure, over the fire. The fire, too ferocious to be stifled, proceeded to double its efforts to produce smoke and the figure tending it, now on his knees, coughed lightly. ‘Time to go.’ He said to himself quietly and made his way in a crouched position back the way he had entered, closing the door at the top of the stairway as he passed down into the bowels of the castle.
We do not see him again until the hatchway in the road lifts a centimetre or ten, and then after a couple of breaths time, rises quickly to give birth to the same figure who entered not an half of one hour earlier. Only pausing to quickly scan the roadway in all directions, he melted back into the shadows and was seen no more.
Highway Robbery
Meanwhile, as the chateau in the centre of the small town was quickly filling with smoke and the first coughing soldiers were stumbling out of their quarters to raise an alarm, and as two women made their way towards the cell wherein the Flaming Scholar was incarcerated, two vehicles were travelling along the roadway that lead towards the town. The first, a smart goods wagon with two men at the reins of three pairs of horses with six outriders surrounding the wagon, was travelling at a smart trot. The second, about two kilometres behind the first, was a farm wagon, drawn by two work horses with a large covered cargo travelling at a more sedate pace.
A kilometre out of the town, the road passed through an ancient woodland, much loved of deer and wild pigs, the trees were old and covered in green moss which dripped from the boughs and seemed to stifle all sound, even when there blew a gale outside, the wood remained quiet and still as if caught forever in the same moment of time. Positioned just inside the edge of this wood, with a good view of the roadway, two figures on horseback stood quietly in the darkness under the outstretched boughs of the trees as if they had been caught under the timeless spell of the woods and would stand there forevermore. They were invisible from the road, the horse too seemed to have been caught in the spell, neither pawing the ground, swishing their tails nor shaking their heads.
The first wagon, with the escort, came rumbling through the wood without incident, the two mounted figures did not move at all. When the wood was silent once more, the two finally broke the spell and walked their horses out of the shadows into the moonlight and positioned themselves squarely in the centre of the road, facing away from the town and looking along the road. On either side of the road the wooded banks rose gently so that anyone using the road would have to stop or run them down. Soon enough, the second wagon came rumbling along, the figures remained entirely still until the wagon slowed to a stop in front of them.
‘Can you move out of the road please?’ asked the driver in a pleasant tone, ‘I am expected and should press on if I may.’
‘No,’ came the reply, the voice sounding like that of a woman in the quiet stillness, ‘Climb down now from the wagon and walk to the town from here,’ continued the voice, ‘we will be taking charge of the wagon now.’
The wagoner tied the reins on the rail before him and stood up, he threw his cloak aside to reveal a long sword hanging at his side. Slowly, he drew his sword and placed his feet squarely in preparation for combat. ‘You will have to win it from me as I am charged with its safety, come, test the edge of my sword or move aside. But be aware that I am a sworn member of the Order and whatsoever is done to me will be repaid in full by the Order and the Count.’
‘Bravely said my good man, I’m afraid that we must join in conflict then, you and I. Let it be known to those who would avenge this action, that this night, all the events that have transpired are the work of people who would oppose the Order in its mission to further the causes of the rich and powerful. And if they continue to persecute those who upset their world order such as the Flaming Scholar then we shall revisit the Order with less mercy than we have shown tonight. Tell the Count and your cronies that we have been careful that no one has been harmed overly but that by these actions we have taken away the power of the Order which relies on mercenaries to do its shameful business.’
So saying, the armed knight spurred her horse forwards towards the side of the wagon. The two protagonists were at almost the same level, one on horse back and one on the wagon, perchance the wagoner had a small height advantage. As they came together the cloak of the rider moved aside, and the moon glinted on polished armour and a bright sword held forwards. The driver struck down on the rider with some force, obviously hoping to win this combat with one stroke, but the descending sword was easily deflected and with a sleight of hand the deflecting sword moved onwards to strike a blow with its flat side on the knuckles of the hand holding the sword. The wagoner’s sword clattered to the ground and he wrung his hand in pain.
‘I see that I am out matched,’ said the man, hugging his hurting hand under his armpit, ‘I shall be walking to the town from here.’ He gathered his belongings and climbed down to the road. ‘I suggest that you move away from here at a good pace as a large force may issue from the town in the next small time and be searching for you, they will not be as accommodating as I.’ He turned, wrapping himself in his cloak and walked away down the road towards the town.
The second rider dismounted and, giving the reins of his ride to the knight, he climbed into the seat of the wagon. ‘Time to make the wealth of the Order disappear I think,’ he said and turned the wagon and horses with a practised hand. They travelled quite quickly to a place where the road passed through a small gorge, small cliffs rising on both sides.
They stopped as a small group of people led by the farmer, who had earlier hosted the meeting, came out to meet them. The horses were unhitched and the wagon turned around, leading the horses around to re-hitch them back the way they had approached, then, forming a chain, they shifted the bags and boxes from the back of the wagon into a small cave which was formed in the undercliff. Then they refilled the wagon with bags of turnips which they had laid there for the purpose. When the wagon was clear, the people disguised the opening of the small cave with stone and brush and dispersed into the dark. The two riders took the cart back to the same wood from which they had started. Leaving a small bag of the treasure on the top of the bags of turnips, then in silence they merged into the darkness of the wood.
An hour later a mounted, armed force of twenty men came galloping along the dark road and nigh on collided with the stationary wagon. They observed the wagon, chattering in excited ways and then one rider became the wagon driver and they drove the wagon away towards the town.
The Rescue
Whilst the first tendrils of smoke from the kitchen were tentatively fingering the various routes into the main thoroughfares of the chateau, the first alarm went up and the sounds of doors opening, and the clatter of shod feet began to wake the silence. The two guards at the gate who had been told to look out for a covered wagon with an escort, who had been looking out into the dark, awaiting the first sight or sound of the approaching arrivals, turned and looked into the inner courtyard, and saw, in the light of the torches kept alight there, that smoke was beginning to issue from several places along the lower levels of the walls. There was no need to shout any warnings as the sounds already coming from inside the chateau spoke eloquently of a chaos of activity and doors and windows were already being flung open. The two guards immediately dashed off towards the storeroom where the leather buckets were kept, in a space nigh the well room wherein all the water was supplied.
As soon as the guards turned into the courtyard, two figures, probably women, one slightly taller than the other, swathed in dark hooded cloaks, moved quickly into the courtyard and disappeared through the now open door at which the supplicants had queued the previous day.
Once inside, the two women covered their mouths with damp cloths, quickly retraced the steps that Chloe had taken not so long ago, through the smoke-filled air, to find the cell wherein the Scholar was being held. Chloe, for it was she who inhabited the less tall of the two figures, drew out the key that she had caused to be made this last day and opened the cell door without delay. They slipped inside without a word.
‘Do as I say and save questions for later,’ said Chloe helping the young woman to her feet. The taller of the two figures who had entered produced a voluminous cloak and with a practiced throw, covered the girl’s glowing form in an instant. Having secured the covering with ties down the front, all three women pulled their hoods forwards so that their faces were in shadow, they marshalled themselves by the door. Chloe held up one hand for quiet and listened intently. ‘Let’s go now’, she said quietly, ‘Keep close.’ They opened the door and started down the corridor in single file.
This high in the castle the ceilings were lower, and the corridors were only wide enough to allow two people to pass each other by one passee standing back against the wall. They moved down the corridor and came within ten metres of the head of the spiral staircase which they must use, when, spilling out into the corridor, came four soldiers in a hurry, not armed with swords but with buckets. The soldiers and the women stopped dead. For a moment Chloe hesitated and then turning to the tall woman at her back said quietly ‘We must pass this way, there is no other, can you make this happen?’ The taller woman, Violette, looked at the soldiers for an instant and then, pushing past Chloe, replied, ‘Anyone who passes me is yours.’ With that she moved towards the soldiers who were looking on in bewilderment. As she approached the soldier at the front of the queue he held his bucket out in front of him and said ‘Now you look here, you are not sanctioned to be here in this corridor, turn around and..’ At that moment Violette, her cloak billowing out behind, aimed a round house kick at his bucket which in turn whacked him squarely in the midriff. He was sent flying backwards into the next soldier in the line who took a nasty blow to the nose from the back of the head of the first soldier and they both collapsed in a heap, not looking as if either of them had any intention of trying to rise again in the near future. The third soldier, a light of panic beginning to dawn in his eyes, dropped his bucket and brought his hands around as if to draw a sword from a scabbard at his belt. When his hands encountered nothing but thin air he looked down in surprise and only looked up again in time to see a gloved hand flying unerringly towards his jaw.
The fourth soldier was in the act of turning tail when a large leather bucket caught him square on the back of his head, this appeared to assist him in the direction that he had decided to take, only now he was travelling that way in a kind of swallow dive rather than the sprinting run that he had hoped for.
Having got clear of the moaning soldiers, the group of three descended the stairs without further encounters and now, so close to escaping the way that two of them had entered, they would have to pass out through the main entrance corridor. But when Chloe quickly put her head around the corner to scout the way forwards, she pulled back and motioned the other two to retreat into a shadowed corner. The smoke in the lower corridors was thick in places and their eyes were streaming with tears, but this corner seemed to have escaped the worst. ‘As we guessed,’ she said, breathing hard, ‘That way is blocked, we must go through the thick smoke in the kitchen. Let us take a deep breath now while we may and then move quickly and without stopping. I have studied the route and will not fail. Hold onto my cloak and close your eyes both of you, for where we are going there will be nought but smoke to see.’
With that and the other women in tow she turned away from the corridor and made for the stairs which led down into the kitchens from which a river of smoke was issuing. Moving quickly down the stairs, guiding herself along the wall with her hands, Chloe also closed her eyes and imagined moving through the map of the chateau that they had studied so carefully not 48 hours ago. Once, her mind tried to take her to another place and time, when, in the sweet air of an evening, not so long ago, she had danced with Danial and life had seemed so clear. But she closed those thoughts and focused on the touch of the rough stone walls, as she knew that their lives depended on her.
Once in the great kitchen room she skirted around the wall to the left feeling the tugging at her cloak more keenly than ever and after what seemed an age, found the opening that would take them down another stairway and out of the smoke. She turned into it only to find her way blocked by a door. She reached, with her lungs aching for air and her eyes burning, for the handle and pulled, but with a sickening feeling in her stomach, felt it come loose in her hand. She scrabbled at the place where the door handle had been in a vain attempt to find purchase enough to open the door, then felt herself moved aside by strong hands on her shoulders. The figure now facing the door, dimly seen through the smoke, stood back and then placed an athletic kick at the place where the handle had been, the door crashed open and the three women fell through and down the steps into the clean air below.
They landed in a coughing, gasping heap a few steps down the flight, slowly they picked themselves apart and resolved into three separate women and in the near dark, they made their way to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Let us stand and breathe for a moment,’ said the scholar between gasps, ’My eyes have stopped working and my lungs are burning.’ ‘Upon my word,’ said Chloe, leaning over with her hands on her hips ‘I agree, that was harder than I expected, let us right ourselves so that we may find our way through this next route.’ ‘Good’ said Violette after a pause, ‘I am mostly recovered, let me find a lamp to light our way.’ And with that she moved off into the near pitch black. After some moments and some sounds of searching, a faint glow, which soon burgeoned, was seen at the distance of a few metres which then came towards them, to reveal three smoke streaked faces which made them laugh. ‘Now,’ said Chloe, ‘I must guide us carefully. Let me start as it sits in my mind.’ With that said she stood with her back to the stairs which they had descended. She closed her eyes for a moment and then set off down a corridor leading away into the dark. Several minutes and several twists and turns later they came to the cellar from which the hatchway opened into the street. Chloe lifted the heavy hatch slightly and was rewarded with sight of a forest of horse’s hooves and some wheels coming swiftly towards her. She dropped the hatch back into place quickly and the thunder of hooves quickly passed over with a deafening noise which died away as quickly as it had come.
‘Now is the time.’ She said to herself, ‘let us be gone from this place.’ And with that they heaved at the hatchway, just as they lifted it high enough to get free there came a pair of hands on the edge of the hatch and the face of Davide Sandor peered over the edge. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘soon all hell will be let loose, the cart has been taken.’ They climbed out onto the road and disappeared into the shadows of the side streets.
Conclusions – An Understanding
So, after all the events of that night had been settled, the Scholar was spirited away safe and the Brotherhood was deprived of its funds. A second meeting was held by some of the Guardians of the Cave at the farm kitchen where, some days before, they had made their plans. The day was not in rain this time as the six Guardians travelled to the farmhouse, to sit at the kitchen table once more. Two bottles of wine and some water replaced the cider, again there was bread, cheese and apples to be had for those with hunger.
Chloe and Danial entered the room close by each other, then separated and while Chloe tended the fire, Danial stood and watched her. As Chloe stood and turned toward the table, Danial also turned away, so that it might not be seen that he was watching her. He sat down on a chair in the centre of the table, looking across into the fireplace as the fire began to gain in flame. He said, ‘We are too early by an half an hour or more, but that is good as I would talk with you.’ Chloe, still standing by the fire, said ‘Yes we are early, but that is not a bad thing, as I feel we have something to resolve, us two. What is it that you would say?’
‘I am undone Chloe, that is what I should say, I am undone,’ he paused, ‘I think that it was first I felt this when we danced together to the Seductive Tambourine,’ he paused again, longer this time whilst Chloe turned and came to sit by him at the table. He turned towards her, ‘I thought at that time it was only the power of the Tambourine that had undone my emotions, but my heart has been in turmoil since then, I believe that there is another cause for my racing heart.’
‘I have seen this in you also,’ said Chloe, ‘and I…’ at this moment there came the sound of steps and the farmer’s son came into the kitchen shouldering a sack full of vegetables. Chloe had stopped talking as soon as the boy entered, and she smiled at the boy. ‘Hello,’ he said smiling back, he lugged the sack over to the sink and set it down there with a thump. ‘Is there yet anything to eat?’ he said scanning the table. He leant over and cut a heel of bread and a chunk of cheese, putting these in the pocket of his tunic he scooped up two apples and left the kitchen with one of the apples, held in his teeth.
As the boy left, Chloe turned to face Danial and continued, ‘I have felt troubled also,’ she also paused to gather herself, ‘I have felt troubled and yet excited by our partnership, I..’ ‘Troubled! ‘said Danial, louder than he had intended, ‘ Is that the how you would describe your feelings for me, I..’ but he could not find the next words and stood up from the table, he went around the table to the fire where he leant against the great beam which served as a lintel over the fireplace, he kicked at the edge of the fire, pushing the unburnt logs onto the flames, ‘I had hoped,’ he said more quietly, ‘I had hoped that I was more than just ‘trouble’ to you.’
‘Of course you are!’ it was Chloe’s turn to speak more loudly than she had intended this time, and, so that she could speak more quietly, she also got up and went around to the fireplace where she placed her hand on his shoulder before she spoke. ‘You are more than trouble to me, I am afraid that you may be the only trouble that I shall ever need Danial, must I say this more clearly before you can understand, we ..’ but at this moment Danial turned towards her and drew her towards him. ‘I understand,’ he spoke very quietly, ‘because it is your trouble that I love, and I would that we would not separate till all trouble is over.’ And with that he drew her close and kissed her lightly on the lips. Chloe, pulled closer still and returned his kiss once, ’We must talk this through,’ she said before Danial kissed her again and then as the sound of steps was heard in the hallway coming quickly towards them, they separated and moved apart.
Violette entered in the middle of taking off her travelling coat and stopped when she saw them standing together, looking at her. ‘I interrupt?’ she asked. ‘No!’ chorused Chloe and Danial almost in the same instant and then they looked at each other and laughed. ‘No,’ continued Danial, ‘We were talking about the future and have concluded our discussions for now, I think,’ and he smiled at Chloe.
‘In that case, if your ‘discussions’ have concluded successfully, some wine would be appropriate I think,’ said Violette, she poured three mugs of wine and handed them round. ‘I toast your discussions and hope that you both may continue to discuss in happiness.’ They all laughed and smiling, drank.
Chloe and Danial came back and sat at the table in the same places that they had sat at the previous meeting, which now seemed a lifetime ago, Chloe at the head of the table with Danial to her right. Violette went out to hang her coat and Chloe put her hand on Danial’s arm, he raised his eyes to meet hers. ‘Do not forget what has been said and done here,’ said Chloe quietly, ‘This is important for us.’ ‘I will never forget this moment,’ Danial whispered. Violette returned and Chloe took her hand away from Danial’s arm, not caring that Violette had seen their contact and proud in some way that their new understanding had been witnessed by a friend.
After a few minutes they had all arrived except the farmer. Chloe and Danial, Vivainne, Davide, Jean and Violette. Chloe stood once again at the head of the table. ‘Well, it has been an eventful time for us but I would thank you all for your actions and bravery, the scholar is with her parents protected, and it is their intention to send her to one of the great universities. She has found that she can control her flames such that they are reduced into insignificance when she goes about her daily life and only becomes bright when she is in the enthusiasm and fever of learning and thinking.’
At this point the dog ran in with the farmer and his wife both close behind. The dog went straight to the fire and curled up there, closer to the flames than would seem wise. The farmer’s wife, Claudette, took a seat at the table whilst the farmer poured them some water and wine mixed, gave his wife her drink and then sat back in the left-hand window seat to listen.
‘The Order is broken, without their monies, the mercenaries will depart and with them any power that they might have accrued. As far as we could assay, there are but nine committed members of the order including the Count. We may have pulled their teeth but all the same we should not underestimate them. Let us keep a weather eye on their deeds in the future and hope that they wither away. As to their treasure, I am open to suggestions, the Guardians of the Cave do not need the funds, as you all know, we have friends in very high places who will provide for us and our endevours. So, what shall we do?’ asked Chloe.
‘Let us set up a charity which is separate from the Guardians and cannot be linked. Perhaps an home to care for children who are without families or homes?’ Said Violette.
‘Perchance we could give care to those that are sick and ailing?’ Said Davide Sandor.
‘We could make a school for those children whose parents cannot afford to pay for education?’ said Danial
‘Perhaps a hostel for the homeless?’ said Vivainne.
‘I think a fund, kept aside to aid people in the event of disaster or war,’ said Jean Jeager.
‘These are good thoughts,’ said Chloe, ‘We can put them to a vote amongst all the members of our oath that a decision will come, thank you all my friends and let us raise a cup together,’ at this she looked down at Danial who raised his cup in salute, as they all did.
‘What shall be our toast?’ asked the farmer’s wife.
‘Let us toast our friends and loved ones,’ said Chloe, glancing once at Danial with her face lowered. She raised her face again to say, ‘Let us toast our friends and loved ones, may they ever be in our hearts.’
‘Friends and loved ones!’ echoed the people at the table raising their cups. The dog, woken by the raised voices, raised its head and looked around the kitchen before settling its head once more on its paws and closing its eyes.
The Guardians of the Cave 