Chapter 28: Daring
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The interruption that forced Cael to hide the amulet was a guard that came to feed him. But after he left, Cael's amulet stayed cold, and Cael himself didn't hurry to get it out. He had nothing else to say about Ginevra's plans. Instead, he had to think about his own.
He had to escape, and the night was the perfect time for it. First, he would have to get rid of his ropes. Then, remove the shock collar somehow.
Cael tugged at the accursed piece of metal. It was just plain iron, but it won't break easily. The rope, though, was much easier to get rid of. He already noticed a nail that poked out of the wagon's floorboards—it would serve Cael perfectly.
The next half an hour showed that he slightly overestimated both himself and the nail. The rope frayed each time Cael poked, prodded and pulled at it with the nail, but still held strong, while Cael earned himself several new scratches.
The need to be quiet was another thing that slowed Cael down. Through a tiny hole in the wagon's canvas walls, he could see his guards. One in front of the tent, and one behind it—Ginevra took no chances. Each time Cael thought he heard someone walking past the wagon, or a guard shift, he froze, startled.
But after another half an hour, the rope finally gave up. Cael exhaled with relief and rubbed on his chafed wrists. This, though, was just the first step.
He won't be able to escape through the wagon's wall without being noticed by guards. Even if he found something to cut them with. Cael needed a distraction. A big distraction...
He heard voices. Footsteps—dozens of them. Commands. All the sounds of an army that prepared to march on, except—were they? Cael didn't see any horses being led towards his wagon, or any of the wagons nearby.
Cael glued himself to a hole in the canvas, trying to see more of what was happening inside the camp. It could be his chance; it could be something his father needed to know, right now.
In the night, the procession shone with dozens of magical lights. They marched on foot, with Ginevra being the first, but Cael noticed her lieutenants being there, too.
The female one—Montefiore, he recalled—turned towards Ginevra and said something Cael was too far away to hear. Ginevra nodded.
Montefiore pulled a crystal orb out of her robes and chanted a spell. Cael felt the mana pulsing in her and the orb—a powerful artifact, no doubt—and then pouring into a spell.
And when the chant was finished, the spell exploded, turning from a solid sphere of mana into a weightless cloud of it. An enormous cloud that covered the entire encampment... Changing nothing.
Cael moved back from the hole and looked around. Yeah, nothing changed. He moved to peer outside again—it was the same there, as well. But the spell was there, like an almost invisible shimmering cobweb.
In the meantime, Montefiore hadn't finished. This time, Ginevra put a hand on her shoulder, pouring her mana into the other woman as she chanted her second spell. When she finished, a second web of magic covered the soldiers that stood with Ginevra.
This time, Cael saw the effect immediately. Their bodies glittered with sparks of mana, only to become blurry the next moment. Half-transparent. In the dark, the effect was astounding. It was like the army was just there... And now it wasn't.
Only if he squinted could Cael see how Montefiore's knees buckled, and Ginevra caught her by her shoulder. She led the woman—the illusionist—aside and passed her to another, not-enchanted soldier.
But now Cael understood what the first spell was about, too. And when Ginevra and her squad marched towards the forest, Cael pulled the Sending Amulet from his boot.
*Father! Ginevra has an Illusion mage in her employ—her name is Montefiore. I think she is second rank, but she used spells that should be at least third circle...*
Cael quickly relayed the rest of what happened and waited with bated breath for Gianni's answer. He didn't have to wait long.
*Thank you, son. Be safe; victory will be ours.*
There was nothing more, yet still, Cael clutched the Sending Amulet to his chest. *Ours*, he said. *Our* victory, when it should've been his father's.
He really wished he could see Father's face at the moment.
But now Cael had even more reasons to escape, no matter what. Ginevra and her strongest fighters left the camp; Cael doubted there were many people left here at all.
He looked around for anything that could serve as a weapon. Before Cael was thrown here, this wagon must've been used to store provisions—it smelled of oats, corn and dried meat. But all that was moved to other wagons. Now all that was left were bare boards and a few lost grains.
Except... Cael squinted against the dark. One floorboard looked and felt rotten enough to break. If he could just pull it away, it would make a sharp point. But the noise would alert his guards.
Cael licked his lip. The sting already lessened as long as he didn't smile. If he killed his guards, he would get more Blood Points to heal wounds he's likely to get in the next few hours.
But without magic, he would have to drink it himself. That would be ineffective; and their blood was just that of normal humans. He doubted it would cost much.
It would have to do, though. Because...
Cael put his hands on the rotten floorboard and pulled with all his might.
He would not rot here, too!