was no joy in the sound. “It is a poor secret if he discusses it where we all can hear.”
Corin held his eyes for a moment, then repeated what the yeoman had told them in the carriage. “No one leaves the lord protector’s dungeons.” The pirate glanced toward the wardens and frowned. “Although this does not look good for them.”
Kellen shook his head. “He might just trust that we don’t understand. I heard his words, but they meant nothing to me. I barely grasp what’s going on.”
“You heard how freely Ephitel defies the king.”
“Yes, but I cannot guess why.”
“Then I will tell you,” Corin said. “Ephitel seeks dwarven powder. Do you know what that is for?”
“Everyone knows. It’s used in holiday rockets and for excavation. Perhaps Ephitel means at last to carve a road through the Elpan Mountains.”
“Why would he not ask the powder of Oberon then? No. I’ll grant you rockets and excavations, but I’d wager everything he wants it for cannons and guns.”
“Cannons and guns?” Kellen asked, looking confused. “They are not the same? I have heard of cannon…”
“By guns, I mean firearms. Muskets. Flintlock pistols.” The bafflement on the yeoman’s face told Corin everything he needed to know.
“You don’t have guns. There are no guns. Yet. Oh, gods’ blood!” Corin hissed. “Ephitel is bringing guns to Jezeeli! That is how he means to overthrow the king.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Horror gripped Corin at the thought. He hated guns almost as much as he hated Ephitel. The one was distant and terrible, the other sharp and close at hand. If ever a weapon had been made to kill a god, surely it was the flintlock musket. He shuddered at the thought.
It changed nothing. That thought alone comforted him. His only goal was to go back home. He’d made a promise to share the news, and now the news grew far more grim, but he had every hope of being gone before Ephitel could kill the king. Delaen had said it would take weeks or months to spend the writs of provender. That was more than time enough.
He took a calming breath and turned his attention back to their escape. Throughout it all he kept his eyes upon the wardens, but for now, at least, their attentions were still fixed upon the outer landing. By all appearances they trusted the cells to hold the prisoners. Still, Corin lowered his voice to something just above a whisper. “We must get to the king. Do you have any friends among the guards?”
Kellen shook his head. “You’ve heard how they consider me.”
“We may be running thin on fortune. This is a tougher dungeon than I’ve faced before, and we are out of allies.”
The silence stretched out for a while. When Kellen spoke again, Corin barely heard the whisper. “Come closer to my cell. Show me your wrists.”
Corin did as he was told, scooting closer to the wall between the two cells. He felt a spark of hope as soon as he understood. The elven knots that only Kellen could undo! Ephitel had placed his trust in them.
And, as it happened, he had placed too little suspicion on Yeoman Kellen. Corin watched, astonished, as Kellen drew a heavy knife from his belt. The yeoman breathed some quiet word in his own tongue, then sliced through the unyielding cord as though it were cobweb. As Corin’s bindings fell away, the pirate caught the soldier by his sleeve. “And Avery as well.”
Kellen shook his head.
“We cannot do this without Avery,” Corin insisted. “I need his help.”
Kellen frowned, but at last he nodded. Corin nodded back. “Good. See to that, but not right now. They will watch with some suspicion for an hour, but then they’ll settle in for the long wait. That is when we move.”
Kellen’s eyes darted to the guards. His hands shook. “I cannot wait that long.”
“You can,” Corin said. “Be valiant as your father was. For Oberon!”
It was a gamble, but it worked. Some spark of noble pride flared in the yeoman’s eyes, and he nodded.
“Good,” Corin said. “In half an hour—”
A shout from one of the wardens interrupted him. “You two! Break it up!”
Corin glanced that way, then slunk back to his cot with his wrists still close together. The warden still stared at him, suspicious. Corin shrugged and showed a sheepish grin. “I thought perhaps a member of the Guard might know how to escape this place.”
In his cell, Kellen gasped, but the warden merely laughed. “You picked the runt of the litter,