Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The large glass window on the second floor creaked as Jan heaved it open. “Remember to climb down the bricks. It’s too high to jump,” the young servant whispered, opening the window to its fullest extent.

Lansius’s heart raced. Earlier, Jan had convinced him this was the only way out without being seen by the guards. The municipal office was built like a castle and had just one exit.

“Can’t Wade smuggle me out or something?”

“He can hardly even get out himself. Together with you, it’s just not possible,” Jan argued.

Slowly, Lansius approached the window and was surprised by his disheveled appearance in the incomplete reflection on the glass, but the chilly evening air rushed inside and demanded his attention.

“Which part of the garden is beneath us?” he asked, knowing the soft ground was his only safety net.

“The one at the far end, near the old tree.”

Lansius hesitated. The darkness challenged him to jump.

“Master, please be quick, or someone will find out,” Jan urged, as they were on the same floor as the staff’s dormitory.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave with me?” Lansius asked.

“Who would feed me if I go? I’m a servant. I was here when the city was taken. They did little harm to me,” Jan whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Lansius flexed his hands to test his grip and began to climb. He placed his hands on the stone window frame and pulled his body up. The night sky came into view, showcasing both beauty and terror. Fear would surely paralyze him if he could measure the height.

“Turn around,” Jan urged him.

“I know. Just give me a moment.” Lansius turned to face the wall and began to climb down. The earthy scent of moss warned him that the stone surface might be slippery, but he quickly found suitable spots for his hands and feet, securing solid footing.

This isn’t too hard.

The municipal building was nearly ancient, having faced partial destruction and rebuilding several times throughout the centuries. Each time, only its entrance and courtyard received proper repairs, while the other sides remained rough and ill-finished.

“Good luck, Master Lansius.”

Lansius looked up, but the creaking from the window signaled that Jan had already left. With no way back, he took a deep breath and continued his descent. Just two steps down, he couldn’t find secure footing. Some stone bricks jutted out, but they were too slippery.

Growing frustrated after a series of failed attempts, his hands grew sweaty and raw. He paused on the last good foothold to catch his breath. At one point, he glanced down and saw the silhouette of a tree.

This is only the second floor, right?

An idea came to him. He carefully dropped his bag down, but the leather bag didn’t make enough noise to reveal the height. Now, out of options and with hands throbbing from strain, he felt more inclined to jump.

First, he knelt, gripping the last jutting stone brick, and planned to lower his body down. However, he couldn’t hold his weight and quickly lost his grip.

The fall was swift; he landed feet first and fell sideways. Despite the sharp pain in his ankle and back, adrenaline kept the pain at bay. In the darkness, he could see the silhouettes of trees and a line of bushes. He forced himself to run for cover, crouching behind the nearest bushes, and waited.

The building remained silent. Lansius felt relieved and sneaked to find his bag. It took several tries, as only faint starlight illuminated the area.

Once he retrieved it, he quickly left through the narrow path between two buildings. He made several turns and suddenly emerged onto the main street. He looked around to get his bearings.

“Master,” someone called to him from the shadows.

“Wade?” Lansius whispered, and the man urgently motioned for Lansius to come closer.

As Lansius approached, Wade pulled back his hood and placed a small purse in Lansius’s hand. “I gave the guard a hard bargain, only a copper to let me out.”

“Keep the rest, Wade. You’ve earned it,” Lansius said, proud of his men.

Wade grinned. “I knew you’d say that,” he said, pocketing the bribe money Lansius had sent through Jan. “Are you hurt?”

“Nothing’s broken,” Lansius assured him.

Wade nodded. “So, where do we go next?”

“Stefi. We need to get her.”

“Where does the squire live?”

Lansius racked his memory before recalling the location. “The old cobbler’s alley.”

“I know the way. Stay close.” Wade looked around and led the way. Not wanting to attract attention, they walked close to the buildings.

The main street was deserted at this hour. As his adrenaline subsided, Lansius felt the pain from his fall in his palms, left ankle, and back.

Riverstead was almost pitch-black, save for a few establishments like the tavern that maintained lit lanterns in their front yards. As they walked, they came across a glowing orb that illuminated a large area.

Now, there was no more going back. The guards certainly wouldn’t lower the drawbridge for him.

“Out of the way!” the last cart’s coachman shouted at Lansius.

Feeling that his chances were bleak, Lansius shouted back as the cart slowed down at the edge of the bridge. “I have some money. Can you give me a lift?”

The horse and cart sped up, ignoring Lansius’s plight.

Lansius sighed, feeling foolish, and jogged to try and catch up with the crowd.

“Quickly,” someone called.

Surprised, Lansius saw the coachman and several figures in the cart were waiting for him. He ran toward them.

Someone uncovered a lantern, producing a faint glow as Lansius approached.

“Ha! I know you,” said the coachman.

“Huh?” Lansius couldn’t see the man’s face.

“To think I met you out here,” the coachman muttered, grabbing Lansius’s hand. He then called out, “Theo, help us.”

The two helped Lansius into the back of the cart, where he landed between wooden crates. “I’m Theo, and this big fellow here is Max.” The youth gestured to another boy.

Max groaned, wiped his blurry, sleepy eyes, and waved a little to Lansius.

“You said you know me?” Lansius directed the question at the coachman in front.

“It’s Thomas.” He removed his hood to reveal his bearded face.

“Thomas!” Lansius couldn’t believe his eyes.

The old man smirked but hurriedly spurred his horses, and the cart sped up. Lansius noticed a figure clad in a traveling cloak, sitting next to Thomas.

“Did you happen to see Stefi?” asked Lansius.

“The squire?” Thomas asked without looking back.

“We traveled together from Ceresia, remember?”

“I hope she’s in one of the carriages,” Thomas replied weakly.

Lansius exhaled deeply, his hope faded. “What will happen to the city?”

“Another siege,” replied the figure beside Thomas, her tone somber.

“Can the city hold out?” Lansius asked.

“Nobody knows, but Riverstead has never held against a siege,” said Thomas.

His words left Lansius feeling dejected.

“Try to make peace with it. I need you to stay alert,” Thomas warned.

“Are we not safe here?” Lansius was alarmed.

“Sieges are always bad, whether you’re inside or outside,” Thomas cautioned.

“The horsemen may chase us for supplies and hostages,” Theo added.

The cart became bumpier as the horses picked up speed. Riding in the dark, even with lanterns and torches, was dangerous, but everyone would rather risk it than be captured.

The sound of cracking whips filled the air as the coachmen urged their hesitant horses to run despite the darkness.

Lansius felt a crushing sense of loss as he kept his eyes fixed on the receding city. All he had wanted was a good job and a chance to improve his station in life. And now everything seemed lost.

Stefi, Jan, Wade, please stay safe . . .

As the dispersed crowd and convoy moved farther away, the glimmering lights north of the city became increasingly numerous and distinct. At first, Lansius mistook them for an eerie reflection of the night sky. But soon, the unsettling truth dawned on them: those weren’t stars.

They were the glowing hearths of countless fires, illuminating a sprawling enemy encampment. The sheer size of the camp, visible even from a distance, suggested an army not in the hundreds, but likely in the thousands.

The realization that the defeated army—believed to be on its last legs—now appeared more formidable than ever sent a chill through the convoy. A palpable sense of fear and hopelessness settled over them as they left Riverstead to its fate.