Wayte leapt through the hole, sword drawn, Dmitri followed after, his senses attuned to Wayte’s. Even his moves closely mirrored the other mans, even though he didn’t have a sword of his own. Looking behind him, he saw Claudia with her head back in the other room.
“Claudia,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Stopping anyone following us from this direction,” she said, holding up a handful of vials and jars. She ducked her head back into the room and Dmitri heard a clatter as someone collapsed inside. Claudia quickly climbed into the room and soon returned carrying a guardsman’s sword. “You’re welcome,” she said holding it out to Dmitri with a smile.
Wayte just shook his head and loped on ahead through the courtyard, Claudia and Dmitri close behind. As they entered the hall, two guards rushed them. Claudia fell behind Wayte and Dmitri who greeted the guards with swords raised. Having been with Dmitri for a few days now, she had seen the lack of grace that he had when he moved, so she was completely unprepared for the grace and fluidity that his movements exhibited now. It was as if he had been born with a sword in his hand. She had seen Wayte before her capture and even he too seemed more graceful, his reflexes sharper. The guards attacked Wayte and Dmitri individually but the two men defended as one. Each man reacting to the others movement as if two parts of a whole. The guards could find no opening against such a defence, and dropping their swords, they turned and ran.
Mattief ran into the room, sword drawn. He was followed by Draycott and a number of guards, “You two,” he said, pointing at two of his men, “see to him,” and indicated the man on the floor. The two guards went over to the fallen man and sat him up, trying to find out what had happened.
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“You and you,” said Draycott indicating two more guards, “through the hole and after them. Mattief and the rest of you, come with me.” The guards he indicated leapt through the hole in the wall swords drawn.
Draycott turned and marched out the room, the guards following. Mattief sheathed his sword and looked around the room once more, as if he might find one of the prisoners hidden there. Exhaling loudly in frustration, wanting to redeem himself in Draycott’s eyes, he left the room. The two guards that were checking on the fallen Thomas looked at each other and shrugged; one couldn’t tell what a rash young man like Mattief was thinking when he acted like this. Resuming his search, one of the guardsmen found a fat little jar with some green liquid in the bottom of it.
“What is it?” asked the other man.
“I’m not sure,” he said and poured some of the liquid onto his palm. The liquid evaporated on contact and both men gasped in surprise. Soon they too were choking as Claudia’s potion began to affect them. It wasn’t long before they collapsed on top of guardsman Thomas.
The three escapees ran through the twisting corridors of the castle, Wayte leading the way. Since the first two guards near the courtyard, they had faced minimal resistance. Claudia had taken care of them; a small yellow vial shattering on the ground in front of them had driven them into a frenzy of scratching; they were covered in an angry red rash and couldn’t help but sooth the itch.
“Something is not right,” said Wayte suspiciously as they rounded yet another corner and found no opposition.
“How do you mean?” asked Dmitri as they crept down the corridor.
“There should be more defenders,” replied Wayte stopping them with a raised hand.
“Maybe we scared them off?” suggested Claudia. “Those first two ran in fear from you both.”
“No, I don’t think so,” replied Wayte with a shake of his head. “I’d never seen those two men before; they must have been new recruits.”
“Aye, they were,” came a deep voice from behind them.