at an upward slant. It is closed with a portcullis.
On the other side, the tunnel continues for a few feet and stops at an iron door, with only a slit for a window.
“This must be it,” I assume, whispering.
“Jarl,” Leif says as we reach the door. “Jarl!”
There’s a rustle from within, the clinking of chains, and the Jarl’s voice says, “Who is it that speaks?”
“Captain Leif, sir!”
“Leif! How did you get out?! And find me?”
“I didn’t get out myself, sir- Kadmus broke in and freed us all! Then I remembered the deep dungeons down below and thought it was surely where Tyrannus kept you.”
“Let us speak in the hall,” I say, finding the right key. “It’s a little more hospitable.” It’s the smallest, least decorated key that fits the lock and turns. The door opens with a slight creak, and then we see the Jarl.
He’s pitiful. He’s been stripped of his stately armor and cloak, and now wears simple rag pants and no shirt. He’s bruised and chained to the wall with shackles.
I use the same key to unlock his shackles, and then we help him up. “We need to find something for you to wear,” I say.
“That may have to wait until later,” he answers roughly.
Then the horn sounds.
Even down in the depths of the Keep, the horn is clearly audible. It sends chills down my back as I realize what it means.
“We have been discovered,” George whispers.
The troll grunts and yawns, strings of spit lining and connecting his yellowing teeth. Then he springs up with a snarl at the sound of the horn. His beady eyes glance around and find us in the back of the room.
“Run!” I yell, and each of us takes flight across the room and around the troll. He roars and smashes the ground with his fists, as he lacks a weapon. He swings across the room with his enormous arm-span; the only way any of us avoid it is to hit the floor, which unfortunately George doesn’t do. He goes flying with a yell and hits the wall. The troll, having actually hit something, gets excited and rumbles towards him for the kill. George’s sacrifice helps the rest of us get out alive.
We run down the hall as fast as our legs will carry us. We hear the troll roar behind us and others answer as we start up the first flight of stairs.
A few guards pop out of nowhere, swords drawn. Though they have the upper ground, we quickly subdue them and continue our flight after the Jarl picks up a weapon.
We hear yelling and footsteps ahead of us. “Stop!” Leif whispers. “In here!” We duck inside a side room and watch a dozen guards pass us by. Then we rise and run down the hall, away from them.
My previous way around was now crawling with guards, so now we have no choice but to run through the circular hall just inside the main entrance hall.
We don’t give any thought to secrecy. We barge in, swords held high. Most of the guards had left their posts, but a few still stand loyally. They are struck down beneath us.
Then more flood in.
“Not good,” I say. “Keep running!”
We cut our way through their line and into the hall that will lead us down to safety.
An arrow clacks into the ground just ahead of us. I turn and slash a guard from his shoulder to his waist, putting him on the floor. An archer stands in the back with another arrow nocked.
“Kadmus!” my father roars. Then he jumps.
I don’t register what is happening until it already has. My father lies on the ground, unmoving, with an arrow in his stomach.
Suddenly I see him as I did when I was only a small boy. When he was younger, with less wrinkles and when his beard was less silver. He is smiling, teaching me how to smelt metal. The picture burns in my head, and in my heart the fire continues long after the image is consumed and turned to ash.
I feel only rage. My knuckles turn white as I grip the broadsword of my father and lift it into the air. As I slash aside two oncoming men with ease, I make eye contact with the archer and silently say very plainly to him, You’re next.
His head hits the ground before he does. I’m not sure how I made it over to him in so little time, but spend no time thinking about it as another