“And sneak me back out, yes?” He looked somewhat troubled.
                “Nonsense, you’d look like an entirely different person. You could just walk out and he would be non-the-wiser.” But he was shaking his head profusely.
                “No that wouldn’t do. I can’t be seen.” He looked almost desperate then.
                Elra let out a frustrated breath. “Fine.” She groaned and made to walk out the door.
                “He grabbed her arm to stop her.
                “We’re not going to plan this?” He looked very confused. It felt good to know more than somebody else about things for a change.
                “I’ve lived in this castle for all my life; I know what I am doing.” She looked at his hand and he let go, looking surprised with himself.
                “Okay, well I guess I’ll have to trust you.” He did not look sure.
                Elra furrowed her brow. “Well that would be a start.” She span round, her hair flicking round, and opened the door of his room.
                It felt nice to get out. The small space smelt as bad as him, furnished only with a bed and a three legged desk, lit by a single tallow candle.
                “Oh, I’ll tell Papa you are Sir—erm—Wenton of.. hm—“
                “—how about Sir Wenton, the Gentleman Knight?” He fashioned.
                Elra sniggered at his joke. It didn’t have a perfect ring to it, but it sounded like a worthy Hedge Knight’s name. “I suppose it will do.”
                “And what if he asks to see me?”
                “Just leave me to it okay?” She rolled her eyes. “You ask so many questions it gets rather annoying.”
                “Asking questions has kept me alive.” He sounded a little hurt, but he would cope with it, she had little doubt.
                She didn’t reply, doing so would somehow incite yet more talk, instead she left the room with him following closely behind. At the bottom of the small landing, she lifted up the hood of her cloak and moved down the stairs, taking care to not run and be inconspicuous.
                The inn was well crowded with patrons, milling about and doing everything from eating, drinking and gambling whilst the bartender was busy, pouring drink after drink and collecting coins here and there. Elra passed a serving girl, awkwardly trying to hide her face with a great degree of difficulty.
                With an effort, she pushed past the last customers and squeezed through the door, taking in some grateful gulps of hair. Finally she could breathe.
                The night was quiet besides the hum of activity protruding from The Wastrel’s Corner. The cobbles felt hard and slippery beneath her feet as she moved in the direction of the castle, visible from the heights of its hill.
                She could hear the sound of footsteps behind her and knew him to be following.
                The back was winding, Galantha was like that, and it took a surprisingly long time to reach the vicinity of Castle Galant. There were, even now, new patrols circled the perimeter and more guards stood on the walls, but she didn’t need to get too close.
                On the easternmost wing, where the hill was highest, it continued outwards like an outstretched finger. Hidden amongst old brambles was the hole, that looked much like a badger’s den.
                Finally Elra turned around.

The End

5 comments about this story Feed