Ch. 2 - The Castle

The sun had set and the moon was silently creeping upward in the sky when at last Andrew and Jessica reached the tunnel’s entrance. It was a small, oak door that lay flat on the earthen ground, well-concealed under a leafy, thorny bush. It was so well-concealed, in fact, that the two youths searched for the trapdoor for at least five minutes before they realized where it was.

Andrew knelt down upon discovering it and slid one calloused hand under the thorny defenses of the foliage. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the door and then jerked it upwards. The door opened with a creak of un-oiled hinges, and the bush lifted with it. Jessica peered into the dark hole that resembled a crude mouth in the earth, ready to devour her.

She sucked in a deep breath and then gripped the sides of the opening, slowly lowering herself in. Once the tip of her toe connected with something solid, she reluctantly let go and took a few steps forward. The dark tunnel continued in one direction, but it was so dark she couldn’t tell if it stopped in a few feet, or a few miles. A light thud sounded behind her, and Jessica turned around to see Andrew in the act of closing the door behind them. They were both crouching, for the tunnel was low-ceilinged. A few seconds later, the narrow sides of dirt packed around them were illuminated as Andrew lit a match and lighted a torch that had been dormant and dusty in the side of a wall.

“Cramped,” he remarked, waving the flame around the short, constricting walls covered in mold and mildew. A smell of earth and rot filled their nostrils and caused them to hold their hands over their noses. They couldn’t stand side by side; the walls were so close together it was hard fitting without turning a shoulder to slide by diagonally.

“Let’s get going,” Jessica suggested. They shifted and squeezed, maneuvering around until Andrew was leading since he had the light. As they passed through the narrow walls, slumped over, Jessica asked in a timid voice, “Why are these tunnels even here?”

“I’ve heard many theories suggested by the band,” Andrew told her, sweeping the torch back and forth to light up the ground in front of his confident feet. “Barren said traders used it to sell wine to the guards and cooks without the king knowing. Melody said children built it to play in when it was raining and they were tired of the inside. Steven claims it was a military escape in case the castle was under siege, so some people could sneak out to the woods or further to get help, or food. Brooke is persuaded that a lonely princess had is secretly constructed ages ago, in order to provide her a secretive route in which to meet with her lover in the woods.” Andrew shrugged one shoulder. “But you know how she is.”

Jessica stared at the earthen walls laden with roots and covered in green foliage. They were supported with wooden columns that seemed half-rotten in some places. The floor, which was some kind of stone that might have been smooth in its day, was cracked and broken. “Well, whoever built it, they haven’t been down here in some number of years,” she remarked. The gloom in this place settled over her and bound her in its silent spell. Not even a faint dripping could be heard, or the wind whistling through loose stones. All was still and quiet.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way, until at last they arrived at another door in the roof. Both of the youths shed their cloaks, revealing the garments of simple castle servants. Andrew slowly reached up and knocked twice on the old wood. Jessica was afraid it would splinter and rain down on them; it looked so ancient and fragile. After a few silent seconds, the door creaked open. Andrew was grabbed by two fragile-looking hands that helped him up and out of the dirty, cramped tunnel. Jessica approached the spot where he had been moments ago and reached up. Andrew’s tan hands grabbed her right arm, and the two pale ones her left. Once she was out of the tunnel, she blinked and saw herself looking into two big, blue eyes.

A young woman with pale blonde hair was staring back at her, dressed in the traditional garb of palace cooks. To her right, Andrew was stretching, his limbs glad to be out of the hunched-over position. The three occupants of the kitchen stood appraising one another with wary eyes, and the two newcomers unconsciously noted the dim light of a single candle and the glow it cast upon the cluttered kitchen.

“The fox an’ the ‘ound?” the woman questioned in a light, accented voice. Jessica recognized the code words, but Andrew was quicker to reply than she was.

“The door mouse?” Andrew’s eyes were scrutinizing her. She looked to be a bit older than them, and her build was thin but tough. Jessica wondered how she had heaved Andrew out of the hole, for she seemed so petite and small. Then again, she was a cook, and her arms seemed to bulge out of their long sleeves with muscle. She had a hidden strength, apparently. So this was their inside man… the door mouse; unseen, unheard, but always seeing, always hearing.

As if suddenly remembering something, the slight figure fished around in her apron pocket for an object. She pulled out two keys and hid each one under a plate on top of two trays laden with dishes full of fruit. Her eyes darted around the silent, darkened kitchen as if afraid of someone barging in at any moment. “Go quickly to the East tower,” she urged in her timid voice, ushering them forward. “’Is ‘ighnesses will want their evening snack soon,” she remarked as coolly as she would to two servants.

“Thank you,” Jessica said, saluting her by bringing a closed fist across her chest. The young woman did the same, and then Andrew and Jessica grabbed the trays with the concealed keys and hustled rapidly out of the large, kitchen door.

The passageways into which they hustled were made of large stones, smooth and polished like marble. There was a slight coolness to the air, and a vague scent of stuffy, musty smoke wafted to them from various rooms where their occupants were doubtlessly smoking pipes. Luckily, as they drew closer to the East tower, they ran into no one, and any guards that they chanced to cross were hopelessly drunk. It was beginning to seem as if no one would notice them at all as they wound up the final staircase toward the sleeping chambers of the king and his son.

Then Jessica rounded a corner and her breath caught in her throat. Two guards paced across the entrance to the narrow hall lined with doors that she needed to enter. Andrew glanced at her and then motioned for her to proceed forward. Her breath still frozen inside her, she stiffly approached the men. The guards stopped and stood erect upon seeing the two servants approaching.

“Halt. What businesses have you here?” questioned one of them. He had a big, red beard that obscured his mouth. Andrew didn’t move.

Jessica swallowed hard and replied evenly in the accent of most of the maids and servants, “The evenin’ snack for the king an’ ‘is son.” She smiled slightly, trying to appear as innocent and naive as she possibly could.

“I don’t recall him ordering anything,” the other guard, with thick, brown hair remarked. Panic welled up inside Jessica as she struggled to keep a calm countenance. “Now is when it matters,” she thought to herself.

Jessica leaned in toward the one with brown hair and whispered with a grin, “It’s unofficial. Cook’s request. She noticed ‘is majesties lookin’ sullen and stressed as of late, and thought some food might do ‘em some good.” The brown-haired guarded looked to the red-bearded one, who shrugged. The small girl seemed sincere enough, with her enchanting smile and her pleading eyes.

“You’re right – they’ve both seen happier days. Tread carefully,” advised the brown-haired guard.

“Thank you, sir,” Jessica said softly, dipping into a small curtsey and waiting until Andrew had bowed his head respectfully before walking past them and into the hallway ahead. Once they had turned a corner, she released a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“You did fine,” Andrew reassured her. They continued down the hall until they got to the two doors opposite each other with jewels in their hinges and adorning the stone wall around them. There was a guard stationed between the two, but he had long since fallen asleep with his back against the wall, an empty mug nearby. Jessica and Andrew moved the plates from their position on the trays and grabbed the keys. They turned their backs to each other, each stuck his own key into its appropriate lock, and on the whispered count of three, they turned their handles and stepped inside their rooms.

Jessica hastily closed the door behind her and placed the tray of food on a side table. There were many elements to be noted in the magnificent room, such as the extravagant silk curtains, the mahogany side tables and bookcases, the elaborate portraits of past rulers staring down at her with cruel, condemning eyes, the fireplace’s ruddy glow, and the large stained-glass window in the eastern wall where light could stream in and illuminate the room with the rising sun.

All this was irrelevant compared to the large, canopy bed in the center of the room and the figure gently pulsating with breath sleeping inside it. The prince was covered except for his head in thick, puffy fabric that rose and fell slightly with each breath he took. Silently, she slipped over to the head of the bed and pulled out one of her knives. His body wasn’t as long as his bed and she pondered if the rumors were true that the prince was, indeed, a young one – perhaps even her own age.

Jessica sighed softly to herself. Well…it was now or never. Time to take the leap of faith. Or, rather, the stab…