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He slipped the chain over her head. The silver was warm from his touch. Despite the coolness between them, Tressalara felt protected and cherished by his action. “I will wear it proudly, Cador—and pray that my doing so will bring you through this night safely.”
There was nothing more to be said. They mounted and rode off through the darkening forest, splitting into various groups that would rendezvous nearer the castle. Tressalara’s band went with Cador. It seemed to her that the magic of the place followed them, for everywhere they went the way was smooth and safe.
By cutting through a secret path that Cador had set the men to clearing weeks before, they reached the wooded hills near the castle quickly. Too quickly for Tressalara. This was where three final groups would part ways.
First Cador’s men turned off the secret path and started up the ravine that would lead them to their staging point. Although she watched, Tressalara did not see him look back. One moment he was there, the next she saw only shadows. They seemed to fill her aching heart as well.
Then it was Brand’s turn to deploy his men, while a few in costume would go with Tressalara and infiltrate the castle itself. “Godspeed, Brand. May you and your men return in safety.”
He touched his helmet in salute to her. “May the angels and Saint Ethelred protect you. God willing, we shall meet again in the great hall at midnight, majesty.”
He saw her lips tremble and knew the cause. Poor lass, though she would be a queen, she still felt a woman’s heartache. Although their paths would take them apart in life, he knew her feelings for the Kildoran highlander ran deep.
“Do not fear for Cador. Though he takes every risk, he is said to be invincible in battle, as long as he carries his magical talisman with him.”
Her heart almost stopped. “His talisman?”
“Aye, the crystal in his sword’s hilt. It will fend off death and danger and keep him from all harm.”
With that he rode off, leaving Tressalara to stare after him in shock. The crystal that Cador had given her, his protection from death and danger, hung cold between her breasts, like a single frozen tear.
9
As Niniane andIllusius watched, the block of ice that encased the great wizard Myrriden broke asunder and crashed to the rocky floor. Sparkling spirals of light shot out in all directions, and the crystals that formed the cavern walls rang like myriad bells. The two apprentices were filled with dread: What had their spells wrought this time?
Myrriden stepped from the glittering mound of ice, scowling. “So, you young scallywamps! Broke the flask of Yann, did you?”
His wise old eyes glanced from one to the other as if assessing their guilt. Illusius stepped forward, shielding Niniane from view. He took a deep breath. “It was I.”
Niniane joined him, putting her hand on her companion’s sleeve. “Do not blame Illusius, Myrriden. Had I not spilled bladderwort and eye of newt everywhere, it would not have…”
“Silence!” the wizard commanded, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “You are not the first of my apprentices to prove clumsy. Nor,” he said with a sigh, “will you be the last. But you have evidently learned to cooperate and combine forces, which is the most important lesson at every level of existence. You are now ready for your great test—whatever it might be.”
He shook his head, and fragments of ice rained down like diamonds. During the period when he’d been frozen he had suffered the strangest dreams. They seemed to go on and on. “How much human time has passed in my absence?”
The apprentices looked at one another guiltily and shuffled their feet. “Um…er…ah, about ten…”
“Ten hours? A record!”
“Um…er, not hours…”
“Days, then?” The wizard’s shaggy white brows shot together. “By Saint Ethelred’s beard! Has it been weeks?”
Before they could stammer out the truth, Myrriden’s gaze fell upon Niniane’s crystal globe. Earlier it had shown Tressalara approaching the old ruins; now it held the image of a glowing crystal, its natural facets forming a shape very like a dragon.
“The Andun!” Myrriden exclaimed. He looked from Niniane to Illusius. “We will settle this later, for I see that evil had been loosed in the land. It is time for your final test. Remember—the simplest solution is usually the best!”
He clapped his hands and uttered several mystic syllables. Niniane felt her limbs shrinking and looked down to see fine white fur growing up her arms. Illusius twitched his long black whiskers. “Now what?”
They found themselves plunked down in a dark passageway of hollowed rock. Niniane curled her long pink tail. “Oh,rats!”
Tressalara led her small party to the ruins of the old fortified tower that had stood for generations near the river falls. The rising wind almost muffled the sound of the water cascading over the rocks. “We will hide the horses here. The entrance is nearby.”
She stripped off her cloak, and the others did the same, revealing their own costumes, which Cador had obtained from God only knew where. One soldier wore a fool’s motley, two others the court dress of a strange and foreign land. A third had a wizard’s silver stars sewn to his dark robe and a turban set with a glittering paste jewel. The rest wore the livery of Lector’s men, taken from the soldiers they had slain.
The castle walls enclosed many acres. There were two separate tunnels behind the entrance hidden here, part of the maze of castle escape routes that her mad great-grandfather had planned in case of siege. Who would have expected them to prove useful in a kingdom that had been at peace with its neighbors for two centuries? One led to the main courtyard in the shadow of the stables. The rebels dressed in Lector’s livery would exit there. Once inside they would subdue the guards at the entrance, then let Cador’s troops in at the main gate and Brand’s through the water gate on the river.
The second tunnel ran deeper, to the opposite side of the huge castle complex. Those in costume, under command of Kegi’s son Zonel, would continue along it with Tressalara, with orders to infiltrate the great hall and cut off Lector before he could make good his escape. It split off near its end, with one arm running to an alcove near the minstrel’s gallery above the great hall, the other into the royal apartments that had belonged to her father. Unknown to the rest, this last was Tressalara’s true destination.