Saldur shook his head. “I felt the fewer that knew, the better.”
“After the wedding,” Ethelred told Archibald, “once I’m crowned emperor, I’m afraid Modina will have an unfortunate accident—a fatal accident.”
“It’s all arranged,” Nimbus reported. Arista paced the room and Modina sat alone on the bed. “I got the uniform to him, and tonight the farmer will smuggle Hilfred into the gate just before sunset in the hay cart.”
“Will they check that?” Arista asked, pausing in her journey across the room.
“Not anymore, not since they called off the witch hunt. Things are business as usual again. They know the farmer. He’s in and out every third day of the week.”
Arista nodded and resumed her pacing.
“The same wagon will cart you all out at dawn. You’ll go out through the city gates. There will be three horses waiting at the crossroads for you with food, water, blankets, and extra clothing.”
“Thank you, Nimbus.” Arista hugged the beanpole of a man, bringing a blush to his cheeks.
“Are you sure this will work?” Modina asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Arista said. “I’ll do just what I did last time. I’ll become Saldur, and Hilfred will be a fourth-floor guard. You’re sure you took the right uniform?”
Nimbus nodded.
“I’ll order the guard to open the entrance to the prison. We’ll grab Gaunt and leave. I’ll instruct the seret to remain on duty and tell no one. Believing I’m Saldur, no one will know he’s gone for hours, maybe even days.”
“I still don’t understand.” Modina looked puzzled. “Amilia said there was a prison in the tower, but all the cells were empty.”
“There is a secret door in the floor. A very cleverly hidden door, sealed with a gemlock.”
“What’s a gemlock?”
“A precious stone cut to produce a specific vibration that when held near the door trips the lock open. I used a magical variation on my tower door back home, and the church used a far more sophisticated version to seal the main entrance to Gutaria Prison. They’re using the same thing here, and the key is the emerald in the pommel of the sword the Seret Knight wears.”
“So, you’ll make your escape tonight?” the empress asked.
Arista nodded. The empress looked down, a sadness creeping into her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Arista asked.
“Nothing. I’m just going to miss you.”
Arista’s stomach twisted as she looked out the window and watched the sun set.
Am I being foolish?
Her plan had always been to merely locate Gaunt, not break him out. Now that she knew exactly where he was, she could return home and have Alric send Royce and Hadrian to rescue him. Only that had been before—before she had found Hilfred, before she had been reunited with Thrace, and before she had known she could impersonate Saldur. It seemed like such an easy thing to do that leaving without Gaunt would be an unnecessary risk. The smoke verified that he still lived, but could she be sure that would be the case several weeks from then?
She was alone with Modina. They had not said a word to each other for hours. Something was troubling the empress—something more than usual. Modina was stubborn, and no force could move her once she decided on a course. Apparently the course she had decided on was not to talk.
The gate opened and the hay cart entered.
Arista watched intently. Nothing seemed amiss—no guards, no shouting, just a thick pile of hay and a slow-walking donkey pulling it. The farmer, an elderly man, parked the cart by the stables, unhitched his donkey, hitched it to a new cart, and led the animal out again. Staring at the cart, she could not help herself. The plan had been to wait until just before dawn, but she could not leave Hilfred lying there. She managed to restrain herself only until she saw the harvest moon begin to rise, and then she stood.
“It’s time,” she said.
Modina lifted her head.
Arista walked to the middle of the room and knelt.
“Arista, I …” Modina began hesitantly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing …Good luck.”
Arista got up and crossed the room to hug her tightly. “Good luck to you too.”
The empress shook her head. “You keep all of it—I’m not going to be needing any.”