Merrick found the stairs down into the butte and began the long hike to the jail.
He passed a few guardsmen coming and going, mostly staggering and got confirmation from one that he was indeed on the correct path to the cells.
The castle had been built over many, many generations. Plans had been drawn; plans had been lost; plans had been ignored. In the end, the entire structure was a patchwork of starts and stops, additions and subtractions, brilliance and idiocy. If the plan had been to confuse and confound an invading army, then the goal was achieved. If the plan had been to confuse and confound the residents of the castle, that goal had also been achieved.
Fortunately, some helpful soul had marked the walls in charcoal, at intervals, so the path to the jail wasn’t a complete mystery.
At last, the corridor opened onto a well-lighted office with a desk. The jailor sat behind the desk eating a sandwich and chatting with a guardsman who leaned against the wall.
“Greetings,” Merrick said.
“And a hearty good evening to you,” the jailer said.
The guardsman nodded and grunted a greeting.
“How may I help you?” the jailer asked, smiling pleasantly with his mouthful of snaggled brown teeth.
“I need to break the spacer out,” Merrick said.
“I’m listening,” the jailer said.
Merrick pulled a wine-filled skin from his pack and dangled it in front of the man.
The jailer accepted the wine skin with a bow of the head. “Help your self,” he said, holding out a big ring with a key.
“Um, it’s just that . . .”
“Say no more,” the man said. “I completely understand. You need a scuffle, some yelling and you want us unconscious on the floor.”
“Exactly,” Merrick said. “I would greatly appreciate it.”
“In order to make it look good, we’d need five coppers apiece,” the guardsman said.
“Three,” Merrick said.
“Done.”
The jailer and guardsman began to simulate the sounds of a fight. A few curious passersby looked in, but said nothing and went on their way. Once the two men had settled into uncomfortable positions on the floor, Merrick went through an archway and back to the row of cells.
There were few prisoners and he easily figured out that the man in the flight suit, stretched out on a straw mattress on the floor, was the one for whom he had come.
He unlocked the cell door and went inside. Before Merrick could explain him self, the man sprang to his feet and punched him in the face.
“Stop!” Merrick said, grabbing his nose with both hands as the man hit him again. “Hitting! Me!” Merrick scrambled to put the cell door between him and the crazed spaceman. “Your captain sent me. I’m here to break you out.”
“I don’t think so,” the first officer said. “The captain would never do business with a filthy peasant like you.”
“She hired me because she needed someone who would fit in. I’m a professional, um, problem solver.”
“Fine. Prove it. Tell me something about the captain to prove you two met.”
“Green eyes,” Merrick said.
“Okay,” the mate said, relaxing at last. “Get me out of here.”
“Follow me and try to be very quiet.”
They slipped down the hallway and through the office where the two citizens pretended to be unconscious. Merrick and his escapee cautiously moved out the door, checking both ways before proceeding.
Merrick could barely contain his smile at the thought of the rewards awaiting him. Once he had proven himself with the rescue of the crewman, the captain would undoubtedly lower her guard a bit, allowing their relationship to blossom.
Someone was coming. Merrick signaled the spacer to press back into the shadows of a recess.
He felt some sense of relief when he saw it was a giant. They were well-known for having poor eyesight and little sense of smell. As long as Merrick and the spacer stood still and didn’t breathe, the creature would pass by without noticing them.
When it was clear, Merrick led the way, keeping his back to the wall for effect. Once or twice on the way up, they managed to dodge drunken guardsmen stumbling down to their quarters.
On the concourse level, the guards were all snoring loudly and Merrick led the way to the stairs and ramps that wound down to the city streets.
Making their way along, they hid in the shadows of doorways when they encountered people. A time or two, Merrick used ropes from his pack and they rappelled to the next level down, just to make the escape seem more difficult.
The streets were still filled with dancing, singing, cheering hordes, when Merrick and his charge made it into the open. They had no problem keeping to the darkness and getting to the city gates was little more than a long walk.
For a brief time, as the moon neared the horizon and they were in a dark space between the city lights and the brightness of the spaceport, Merrick could see the Frog Nebula in all its colorful glory. Even though it was so small and distant he could hide it behind his thumb held at arm’s length, it was still a magnificent sight.
Their walk from Olafston to Spaceport City was a long haul, but they made it just as the first rays of morning light were peeking over the horizon. Merrick already had his few meager possessions in his pack, so he was ready to go. His excitement grew as he drew closer to the green-eyed woman and his destiny.
From the outskirts of Spaceport City, they took a shuttle to the departure lounge. The captain was waiting. Merrick was breathless at seeing her, but she had personnel problems to deal with first.
The spaceman drew to attention and saluted his superior officer.