Chapter 14
As evening gathered, most of the University population was assembled on the lawn listening to Arora’s sad, but hopeful music that healed hearts as well as soothed shaken nerves. Tristan had bid his wife a warm farewell and both knew he might not be coming home this time, but neither despaired as their parting would only be temporary, come what may. The five Brethren were already mounted and waiting for the three students who had agreed to accompany them. Raye was their unofficial leader; he looked quite at home in the saddle. His two friends looked a little awkward, but did not seem in imminent danger of falling off. Once everyone was mounted, they headed East with all speed. They rode hard and only stopped for brief periods to rest until they reached their destination. A chill ran through Tristan’s spine as he surveyed the castle that he never wished to see again. They had made good time and spent the balance of the day resting in the woods a mile or two from the fortress. As evening deepened, Tristan approached the gate alone. The rest remained hidden in the woods, hoping for some sign as to their next move.
Tristan was clad all in black and had his hood pulled up, obscuring his face; Taragon took the guise of a black horse. He let Taragon walk ominously towards the gate and then stopped and said in his most sinister voice, “open immediately.”
“Who goes?” asked an eerily familiar voice; it would have to be Prat guarding the gate.
“The General is expecting Gorge is he not? I have vital information for him,” snarled Tristan.
“You are expected,” said the man, “but…”
“No buts!” roared Tristan, “you will open this gate now or I will have your head as a doorstop. I am not to be hindered by the likes of you.” The man was visibly shaken and complied immediately. Tristan rode into the courtyard and dismounted. He pulled Prat aside as if to speak with him privately and lowered his hood, placing a hand over Prat’s mouth to muffle his scream of terror.
“You…you…are dead,” whispered the man in horror.
“And if you do not wish to join me,” said Tristan, “you will do as I say.” The man nodded helplessly. “Is there another way into the castle besides the main gate?” asked Tristan fiendishly.
The man nodded and said, “there is a back gate.”
Tristan smiled dangerously and said, “you will unlock it and call the watch on that part of the wall down for new orders, unless you would rather find out what lies on the other side of death?” The man blanched white and immediately did as he was told. As he scrambled in the direction of the back gate, Tristan followed sedately and pictured the gate in his mind for Taragon. Taragon passed the image on to his fellow unicorns and the unicorns to their riders. They knew what to do. Prat unlocked the gate and then shouted up to the watchmen upon the walls that there had been a change in plans and ordered them down. They came curiously and withdrew to the stable for a private conference. Tristan easily rendered them unconscious, disarmed them, and secured them in an empty stall. He and Prat then donned their gear and headed for the back wall. By now, Tristan’s men were quietly filing in the back gate. Tristan and the hopeless Prat walked along the battlements and approached the unsuspecting watchmen on the adjoining side. Once Tristan was sure his men were in and scaling the opposite wall, he took down the curious guards and headed for the front wall. By now, some of the guards began to grow suspicious, but Tristan’s men moved quickly and with Prat’s help all were soon captured. The sleeping men and the servants were also secured.
At this point Tristan asked, “where is the General?”
The morose Prat said, “he rode away this morning with two of his minions to resume his former post.”
“Are you telling me that there are no members of the Brotherhood of the Serpent in this forsaken rock heap?” asked Tristan.
“You have captured an empty shell,” said Pratt.
“You are not amongst their number?” asked Tristan.
“My men and I are merely mercenaries and the servants are honest men, as far as I know,” said Pratt, “we just do this because it pays well.”
Tristan shook his head in disgust, “very well. You and your men may go free after I have spoken with them; would any of them know anything about the Brotherhood or the General?”
“No more than I,” said the man, “you are not too bad for a ghost.”
Tristan smiled grimly, “I am no ghost my friend, though perhaps I appeared dead for a time, I am quite alive.” Tristan and the much relieved Prat made their rounds of the soldiers and servants within the castle, but no one had any more information that Tristan could use. But perhaps they could use the musty old castle to their advantage. As none of the current residents was apparently guilty of anything beyond a poor choice of employer, Tristan allowed any to leave who would. The rest were allowed to stay only if they agreed to obey his orders without question. He seemed a much more agreeable master than the General so no one found this a disagreeable change. Tristan’s men took turns sleeping and supervising their new abode, just in case someone decided to betray their new masters.
Tristan’s plan was simple: he would use the castle to trap any messengers of the Brotherhood that had not heard of the General’s change in address. Over the next few weeks they might actually capture a wayward messenger until the General’s new location became more widely known to his minions. They settled in to wait. To pass the time, Tristan drilled the students (and any interested mercenaries and servants) in sword fighting techniques. Otherwise, life continued on as normal for the inhabitants of the castle. One night, as Tristan sat discussing some historic battle with an eager Raye, Prat entered the kitchen. He and Brom had been on patrol and between them they dragged an unconscious man. Prat said, “we found him sneaking about the place and thought you might like to talk to him.”
Tristan smiled at the pair ironically, “thank you, I would. You did not kill him this time?” The pair laughed as they bowed themselves out of the room. The man lay in an unconscious heap, facedown on the floor. Slowly he began to stir and then groaned as he sat up. Tristan’s hopes of having finally apprehended some link to the mysterious General died aborning.
“Tristan!” gasped the now conscious man, “what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” said Tristan smiling, “I am sorry for the inconvenient manner of our meeting. But what are you doing sneaking about this stagnant rock heap?”
Trap shakily took a chair and said, “the Lady sent me and several others to keep an eye on this place. A week ago we saw the head honcho ride off with two of his henchmen in tow. Then we saw a dark stranger come in through the front and another party come in the back. We did not hear much to suggest a skirmish so we thought it was just business as usual. Word has just come down that things are moving faster than we thought and the Lady has ordered us to capture the castle if we can and find out if anyone here knows anything.”
“When are you supposed to strike?” asked Tristan in growing alarm.
Trap, catching his meaning said, “any time now.”
Tristan barked at the stupefied Raye, “call everyone off the walls, now!” The boy ran from the room as fast as he could and started shouting orders.
Prat and Pallin barged into the kitchen demanding to know what was going on. Tristan said, “we are about to be invaded. You are to allow the invaders to enter without resistance. That is an order.” Pallin took one glance at Trap and understood.
Prat stared in disbelief, “who is this guy?”
“An old friend,” smiled Tristan, “and we are apparently going to have a few more dropping by. I hope you set out extra places for dinner.” They all went into the courtyard and waited. The bewildered watchmen had pulled back from the walls and watched with dismay as several grappling hooks came up over the battlements and several dark figures were soon upon the walls. The confused invaders wondered why no alarm was raised and why the watc
hmen just stared at them glumly instead of resisting.
“Why do you just stand there and stare at me stupidly?” asked a confused voice, “what manner of place is this?”
“I have my orders sir,” said the guard.
“I see,” said the voice, though from the tone he clearly did not. “
Put away your weapons,” said Tristan, “no one will harm you.”
“Under what authority do you give me orders?” asked the invader.
“As the current master of this castle and also as your Brother in arms,” said Tristan laughing, “Turin, put that thing away before someone gets hurt.”
“Tristan?” said Turin, now more confused than ever, “what is going on here?”
“Tell your men to stand down and I will explain,” said Tristan, “Prat you may order your men to resume their regular duties. These ‘invaders’ are to be counted as guests.” The confused man bowed and went about reordering his men. Turin and his eight companions joined Tristan and Trap in the courtyard. They knew Trap had been captured and were overjoyed to see him safe again. They retreated to the kitchens and the servants found enough food and drink to satisfy the ravenous invaders.
“What exactly are you doing sitting in this rotten fortress like some miserly spider in a cave?” asked Turin once he and his men were settled.
“Trap mentioned you saw a shadowy figure come in through the front gate a week gone,” said Tristan. Turin nodded. Tristan smiled, “that was me.”
Turin nearly choked on his bread, “what?”
Tristan laughed, “we had a reliable source at the University that said one of the General’s henchmen was expected here so I took his place and snuck in in his stead. My men were the group you saw coming in the back. We captured the fortress without spilling any blood. Of course the General had ridden off before we got here and left nothing but mercenaries and servants to watch his property until he returns. I had hoped to capture any unwary messengers coming to speak with the General, but all I have managed to do is be invaded by my own comrades. By now I think even the most remote of the General’s servants must know he has relocated to Panmycea and resumed his seat on the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn.”
“Lovely,” said Turin, “but what are we to do now? You have already discovered that there is nothing useful here and any messengers of this General are unlikely to venture forth hereafter. We cannot man this rock pile on the edge of forever as it has no strategic value whatsoever except as a nice place to hide from one’s enemies, yet I do not wish to abandon it for fear that one day it will again be held against us. The Lady ordered us to take it, believing that there might be something of value hidden inside. Word has reached us that any member of the Order that has trained in Astoria is to immediately resign his commission and all Knights of the Order who are studying at the University have been recalled. We fear there is a major shift coming in how the Order functions, especially if this evil General is being recalled to serve on its governing body.”
“This is grave news indeed,” said Tristan, “what of Karly? It was he who took the General’s seat on the council after his flight and it was he who supported an alliance between the Order and the Brethren.”
“I do not know,” said Turin, “but I am sure the Lady will not abandon so faithful an ally.”
“I do have an idea for this pile of rocks,” said Tristan changing the subject slightly, “why not donate it to the University?”
Turin looked at him as if he had lost his mind but said, “what?”
“There have been a few changes in the way the University operates,” said Tristan and he briefly recounted his recent adventures in academia.
“Now that you put it that way, I see your point,” said Turin enthusiastically.
As they sat talking, Prat barged in and said, “sir, I fear we have an uninvited guest, another uninvited guest. He approaches the gate as we speak.” Tristan exchanged curious looks with those gathered in the kitchen and they sprang into action.