‘We could always go back to my plan,’ Brasti suggested.
I glanced over to check on Kest’s progress. He was nearly done cutting through the boy’s ropes.
‘What was your plan?’ the boy asked.
‘We kill you and Trin and then let the Magdan throw a feast in our honour,’ Brasti replied.
‘You will not—’
‘This works faster if you aren’t pulling at the ropes,’ Kest said. Once he’d freed Filian, he moved into Trin’s cell to work on her bonds.
I knelt down next to Brasti, who was humming a tune as he worked. It took me a moment to recognise it. ‘Are you seriously going to sing that fucking “Seven for a Thousand” song while we’re trying to escape Avares?’
‘I don’t know. Are you seriously going to berate me for my choice of music while I’m trying to pick a lock that can’t be picked in the time I have?’
He had a point. A thought occurred to me. ‘Do you think you can get the first three pins on the lock and then ready the pick on the fourth?’
He pulled on the tiny rake and I heard part of the mechanism shift. ‘I suppose so – but what good will that do? Won’t the guards wonder why you’re holding a little piece of metal against the lock of the gate?’
Trin emerged from her cell rubbing at her wrists. ‘More importantly, how do you plan to get us out even after we escape from this cell? There are four hundred men and women in this compound and it won’t take long to rouse them. There are guards outside too – and even then, we’re miles from the border.’
‘That’s my job. You just be ready to do yours.’
She curtsied. ‘And what would my job be, First Cantor?’
I walked back over to the iron gate and stared out through the bars at the Magdan’s display of weaponry, and those damned cannons.
Hells. Hells. Hells.
I went back and took the small blade from Kest and handed it to Trin. ‘Once Brasti has the gate ready, you’re going to help me with the distraction.’
There’s really no feeling quite like knowing you’re about to put your life in the hands of the woman you hate most in the world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The Daring Escape
As terrible plans go, it began not too badly.
Through the bars to our cell I could just about see the guards coming down the hall with food and drink for us, laughing to each other as they took turns spitting in our bowls. There’s precious little difference between a grown-up prison guard and a particularly mean-spirited six-year-old.
Brasti was holding the last pick in place in the lock; I carefully closed my fingers around it as he removed his hand and stood up.
As he let Trin pass by he whispered, ‘It’s been nice knowing you.’ He slipped into the shadows of the nearest cell.
Trin smiled and held up the little blade, ever so lightly tapping the serrated edge with the tip of her finger. ‘It really is wonderfully sharp, isn’t it?’
As the guards approached the gate, Trin placed the edge of the blade against my throat.
The guards caught sight of us and started shouting in Avarean – I don’t know what they were saying but I’m guessing it was something along the lines of, ‘Goodness, that Tristian must be truly, truly stupid to have allowed this woman to get out of her bonds and put a knife to his neck.’
‘Damn you!’ I shouted to the guards. ‘You left her in here with a knife?’
Trin gave me her best lunatic smile. ‘I’ll kill him here and now if you don’t get the Magdan here. Tell him my terms are—’
‘Terms?’ the guard laughed. ‘No terms. You kill Greatcoat, we kill you, then we say Greatcoat did it. Everybody happy.’
‘That’s pretty much what I thought,’ I said, then with my left hand I twisted hard on the pick and felt the lock click open. ‘Now!’ I shouted.
Brasti leaped out from the shadows behind me and kicked hard at the iron gate, smashing the bars into the face of the nearest guard. As he fell back, the others tried to get around him to push it back closed, but Trin had already removed the blade from my neck and she, Brasti and I shoved hard together, pushing the gate all the way open, leaving a path for Kest.
He was halfway down the hall and had started his run forward just as I’d unlocked the gate. Now he used that momentum, building up so much force that when he jumped up and kicked out at the nearest guard, the man stumbled back several feet.
It wasn’t a bad start to an escape, but of course, we still didn’t have any weapons.
‘Now!’ I said, this time to Trin.
She tossed the two-inch knife to Kest, who caught it neatly out of the air with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and as the third guard began to draw his sword, swept the little blade across the man’s wrist, sending blood spurting in the air and the man scrambling to stop the flow. Kest reached down and drew the man’s weapon. Although he was grimacing at the pain touching a sword brought him ever since he’d stopped being the Saint of Swords, there was no hesitation as he slashed it across the shoulder of the next man.
It was largely chaos after that.
We’d counted on other guards being near enough to hear the commotion, and prepared for it. The moment Kest had a weapon in his hand he used it to take out another two of our guards, while Brasti and I overwhelmed the fourth. Now we all had swords, although they were the heavy kind I’ve always disliked; they don’t have the elegance of the rapier, or the manoeuvrability. Trin took a dagger from one of the fallen guards and motioned for Filian to do the same.
‘I estimate two minutes, Falcio,’ Kest said.
Two minutes? Saints, that was worse than we’d anticipated. Our next problem was going to be one of increasing numbers: the rate at which people heard the racket and came running would speed up quickly and soon we’d be overwhelmed – which meant we needed a bloody big distraction.
Fortunately, the Magdan had provided us with the means.
With my free hand I took the amberlight out of my pocket and raced over to the cannons. ‘Quick now,’ I said to Filian. Somewhat against my better judgement, I’d given him a job to do and now he grabbed one of the great stone balls whilst Trin was pouring pistol powder into the tube. I was pretty sure the Avareans would keep the wicks separate and we didn’t have time to search for them, so instead, I carefully jammed a sliver of amberlight down the wick hole.
On my signal, Filian rolled the ball down the tube, leaving Trin and me to push it into position so it was aimed at the front gates of the fort. She handed me the blade and I was just about to strike it against the exposed amberlight when Kest kicked aside one of the two Avarean warriors who had arrived and were going for him and shouted, ‘The angle’s too high!’