Belaset's Daughter - By Feona J Hamilton Page 0,89

It floated lightly on the surface, and they waited a moment, holding on to it on one side, to see if it was truly watertight. There was no sign of seepage, nor did it sink, so all four climbed in. Benjamin and Hubert sat in the stern, and Aaron in the prow.

Walter, without being asked, had placed himself in the middle and, settling the oars in the rowlocks, began rowing expertly downriver.

The tide was still on the ebb, so they had the current with the. In minutes, they were within sight of the Tower, and Walter pulled on the right oar, so that they glided softly to one side, and bumped gently against the wooden piling which lined the bank at this point.

They were close to the start of the Tower walls, but no head appeared above them and no challenge rang out in the night.

Walter lifted the oars out of the rowlocks and stowed them, as silently as possible, in the bottom of the dinghy. He leant forward toward Benjamin and Hubert, and spoke softly.

"We will push ourselves along from here," he said. "We should reach an opening in the wall, which will be a hidden entrance to the Tower. Pray that it is open."

The others nodded. Leaning back, he repeated what he had said to Aaron. Together, they began to push themselves cautiously along. Aaron, facing backwards, could see nothing, and he signalled to the others to stop, after a few feet.

"I must turn around," he whispered to them. "Otherwise, I may lose my balance, if I put out my hand and find nothing to grasp."

He turned, half-crouching, and settled himself on his knees. It was painful, but he ignored the pain, knowing that it would last only a short time. Again, they inched slowly along, pushing and pulling with their hands and arms, guiding themselves and moving silently along. They were moving beside the wall of the Tower now, and the rough stone scraped their hands and broke their nails, but they kept grimly on.

Then, suddenly, Aaron saw a patch of darkness ahead, breaking the dull white of the Caen stone. He turned and gestured to the others, urging them on. A final effort, and they were at the entrance, with Aaron holding on to the side. Cautiously, he peered round the corner of the wall. As far as he could see, there was nothing to bar their way.

Slowly, and silently, the four men edged the little craft round into the blackness of the river entrance to the Tower. In their efforts to be absolutely silent, all four held their BOSON BOOKS

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breath. For an agonising minute, they held the boat steady, and stayed completely motionless, listening with all their might. Nothing stirred, except for the river.

Aaron, still facing forward, looked about as his eyesight adjusted. Slowly, he exhaled, and breathed in, as soundlessly as he could. He could just make out a stone staircase, leading up from the water, inside the ramparts of the Tower. The walls on either side of the entrance gleamed with water. Trailing green weed hung down from about half-way up the walls and vanished below the water level. The top of the weed growth was the high water mark, he realised. The smell of the air was indescribable a mixture of

river

water,

stagnation, and sewage, with something else mixed in that he preferred not to think about.

The air itself seemed thick, and he was conscious of the extra effort needed to drag it into his lungs. They could not linger here for too long, he thought, or they would risk being poisoned by the atmosphere.

He glanced over his shoulder at the others, and caught Walter wrinkling his nose in disgust. Hubert and his father were lost in the shadows, but he could imagine that they were all suffering as he was. He put his hand gently on the wall, and the boat moved forward obligingly, until, with the gentlest of bumps, it nudged the bottom of the stairs.

Cautiously, he half-stood, and stepped out of the boat onto the bottom stair. It was as slimy as he had suspected, but he kept his footing, and turned, without mishap, to hold onto the prow of the boat. The others came out after him, adopting the same crouch, and stepping with an almost feminine delicacy. Once all four were safely on the stairs, Aaron had no choice but to let go of the boat. There was no way to tie it up, and, in any case,