Chương 87: Infiltration

The eastern wall of Tidemark was old, even older than the rest of the city's fortifications, built in a time when the settlement was smaller and less prosperous. The stones were weathered and uneven, covered in patches of moss and climbing vines that had been allowed to grow unchecked. This should do, I thought. We approached under the cover of the darkness, keeping to the shadows of the sparse trees that grew in the vicinity. The moon was providing just enough light to navigate without making us too visible.

"How exactly are we getting over?" Kara whispered.

"That wall is at least eight meters high."

"Silk Shot." I switched weapons, the Emberwood Longbow disappearing into my inventory as the Threadweaver materialized in my hands. The bow felt familiar and comfortable, and nostalgia hit me immediately.

"The web skill?" Kara looked skeptical.

"You're going to... what, shoot a web at the top and climb it?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do." I studied the wall, identifying a section where the battlements jutted out at an angle. A good anchor point.

"The silk is strong enough to hold both of us."

"Both of us. On one strand of web. Climbing a wall."

"Unless you'd prefer to walk through the front gate." She sighed.

"Fine. But if I fall and die, I'm haunting you forever."

"You'd just respawn. Although, since we're banned from everywhere in the county, I'm not sure how that works."

"Thanks, I'm feeling way better now." I waited until a patrol passed along the top of the wall: two guards, moving at a leisurely pace, clearly not expecting trouble from this direction. The moment they disappeared around a corner, I raised the Threadweaver.

"Silk Shot!" The web arced through the darkness, trailing a thin but incredibly strong line of silk. It struck the battlement and stuck instantly, the material bonding to the stone with supernatural strength. I tested the line with a sharp tug. Feels good enough. Hope this works.

"Grab on," I said. Kara moved behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck and her body pressing against mine.

"This is cozy," she murmured.

"Hold tight." Silk Shot had a mechanic to it that basically rewinded the thread back into the bow when I started yanking on it, making climbing comfortably easy. Kara's grip tightened as we left the ground. Her arms squeezed my chest, and I became acutely aware of every point of contact between us; her hands clasped against my sternum, her cheek pressed against my shoulder blade, her legs wrapped around mine for stability, among others.

"Don't let go," she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.

"Wasn't planning on it." We passed the halfway point. Six meters up, then seven. The top of the wall approached, the battlements looming above us. I slowed our ascent as we neared the top, stopping just below the edge. We could hear voices, possibly the patrol returning, their footsteps echoing on the stone walkway on top of the wall. We hung there, suspended in the darkness, Kara's body tight against mine.

I could feel her heart racing, though whether from fear or exertion or something else entirely, I couldn't say. The guards passed directly above us, close enough that I could hear their conversation.

"—heard it was four of them. Adventurers. Killed two knights right in the Tower."

"Bastards. Sir Calian's got every man on alert. Says they're still in the city somewhere."

"Hope I'm the one who finds them. Could use the bonus..." Their voices faded as they moved on. I counted to ten, then pulled us up the last meter. We crested the wall and tumbled over the battlement. It would have been graceful had Kara not lost balance and pulled me down with her. She was on top of me, her face inches from mine.

"Well," the Bard breathed, "that was certainly an experience."

"We need to move," I tried not to sound flustered.

"Always so focused." But she rolled off me and rose to a crouch, scanning for threats.

"Which way?" I pointed toward a set of stairs leading down into the old quarter.

"Down, into the alleys. We stay off main streets, avoid torchlight, and find someone who knows where Cathe is."

"Lead the way, Spider-Man." The old quarter of Tidemark was a maze of narrow streets and cramped buildings, a remnant of the city's humbler origins. The architecture here was more wooden rather than stone, the structures leaning against each other like drunk people supporting one another home. It was also poorly lit, the city's lamplighters apparently deciding that this district didn't warrant as much attention. Perfect for us. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen.

Please report the violation. We moved through the shadows, keeping to alleys and side passages, freezing whenever footsteps approached. The city was more active than I'd expected for this hour, albeit we were likely the cause of this. Patrols were moving in pairs and trios, their torchlight lighting up the streets at irregular intervals. They were looking for us.

"There," Kara whispered, pointing to a tavern at the corner of a small square. Warm light spilled from its windows, and I could hear the murmur of conversation inside.

"The Anchor. Some of the castle's servants drink there after their shifts. I overheard some of them talking about it when we were at the castle."

"Good memory."

"They said Bards usually make good coin there. Useful information for me." We circled around to the tavern, to a service door that led to the kitchens. A tired-looking woman was dumping water from a bucket, her apron stained with the remnants of the evening's cooking.

"Excuse me," Kara said, stepping out of the shadows with her most disarming smile. The woman jumped, nearly dropping the bucket.

"Gods above! Who—""Sorry, sorry." Kara raised her hands in a gesture of peace.

"We didn't mean to startle you. We're looking for someone who works at the castle. A woman named Cathe? Squire to Sir Calian?" The woman's eyes narrowed.

"Why would you be asking about castle folk at this hour?"

"We have a message for her. Urgent business."

"Urgent business that has you skulking around back alleys instead of going through proper channels?" The woman shook her head.

"I don't know any Cathe. Now get out of here before I call for the watch." We retreated, melting back into the darkness before she could make her threat a reality.

"That went well," I muttered. That woman was clearly not a fan.

"She was lying." Kara's voice was certain.

"Did you see her eyes when I mentioned Cathe's name? She recognized it."

"Doesn't matter, she's not going to help us. In fact, she might alert the knights."

"Let's move," Kara nodded. We tried two more establishments with similar results. The servants of Tidemark were either genuinely ignorant of Cathe's whereabouts or too wary to share information with strangers asking questions in the middle of the night. I didn't blame them.

"This isn't working," Kara said as we took a break in a doorway, catching our breath.

"We're running out of time, and we're no closer to finding her."

"There has to be another way. Someone who—" I stopped. Footsteps. Heavy boots on cobblestones, moving with purpose.

"Move." We slipped out of the doorway and into a narrow alley, pressing ourselves against the wall as a patrol passed by the entrance. Two guards, torches held high, scanning the shadows with practiced eyes. They were looking for someone, and I had a pretty good idea who it was.

"That was close," Kara whispered.

"Too close. We need to get off the streets and figure something else out." We pushed deeper into the old quarter, weaving through the increasingly narrow passages. The buildings here were older, some of them abandoned, their windows dark and empty. Then I saw it: a silver trout. The Vizgrad family symbol, hanging above an ordinary door.

"That's the Count's sigil," I said.

"Administrative building, maybe? If the people here are handling logistics for the recoronation, they have to know Cathe."

"Or it might be full of guards who want to arrest us."

"Oh, probably. But it's our best lead." We approached carefully, checking for sentries. The building appeared quiet; no guards were at the door, no lights in the windows. Either empty or a trap. I slowly opened the door, and we slipped inside. The interior was dark, with only a single candle burning on a desk near the far wall. Papers were scattered across its surface: schedules, manifests, the bureaucratic details of the recoronation.

"Someone was working here recently," Kara observed.

"The candle's still—""Don't move." The voice came from behind us. It was cold and commanding, and deep with the power of something that we had no chance of defeating yet. Still, I spun, reaching for my bow, just to find two swords pointed at my chest. Two knights stood before us in full armor, the Vizgrad crest on their surcoats. I had no idea where they came from, since we were careful, but there was no point in thinking about that now.

"Hands where we can see them," the taller one ordered.

"Both of you." We complied. We had no choice.

"Well, well." The shorter knight moved around us, keeping his blade level.

"The murderers themselves. Sir Calian will be pleased."

"We didn't kill anyone," I said.

"Calian is the traitor. He's working with Darius Vizgrad to—""Save it for your trial." The tall knight grabbed my arm, his gauntlet biting into my flesh.

"Or whatever passes for one. Sir Calian said he wanted to handle this matter personally." I imagine he did. They marched us toward the door, their grips iron-tight. My mind raced, searching for options. We couldn't fight, not against knights well above level 40. We couldn't run; his iron grip kept me from moving. I was debating using Shadow Travel, but that would mean leaving Kara behind. Besides, I wasn't certain I was fast enough to lose them when they were alert. This was it.

We were going to be delivered to Calian, and then—"Hold." A new voice, from the doorway we'd entered through. Another knight, his armor slightly different from the others: older, more worn, bearing marks of actual combat rather than ceremonial polish.

"Ser Harwick, Ser Brennan." The newcomer stepped into the candlelight.

"I'll take custody of these two."

"With respect, Ser Erdin, Ser Calian gave specific orders—""And I'm giving you new ones." The knight moved closer, and I saw his face clearly this time. He had weathered features, a scar running along his jaw, and eyes that held a weight of experience.

"These prisoners fall under my jurisdiction. You can confirm with the Knight-Commander if you have concerns." The two knights exchanged uncertain glances.

"The Knight-Commander locked himself in the Strategy Chamber," the knight called Ser Harwick said slowly.

"We can't—""Then you'll have to trust my authority, won't you?" Erdin's voice brooked no argument.

"I've served the Count since before either of you could hold a sword. I think I can manage two adventurers." A long moment of tension. Then, reluctantly, the knights released us.

"As you say, Ser Erdin. But if Sir Calian asks—""I'll handle Sir Calian. Now return to your patrol. The city won't guard itself." They departed, casting suspicious glances over their shoulders. When their footsteps had faded entirely, Erdin turned to us.

"Follow me. Quickly." He led us out a back entrance I hadn't noticed, through a series of alleys that seemed specifically chosen to avoid patrol routes. We moved in silence, the knight's armor somehow making almost no sound as he walked. Finally, we arrived at a residential building with no markings or insignia indicating its purpose. Erdin knocked three times, paused, then knocked twice more. The door opened. Inside was a modest room, lit by a few candles.

Three more knights stood around a table, their armor bearing the same worn, practical look as Erdin's. And sitting in a chair near the fireplace, her face pale but composed— Cathe. She looked up as we entered, her eyes widening slightly.

"You actually found them."

"They found us, more accurately." Erdin closed the door behind us.

"Walked right into dumb and dumber. Nearly got themselves delivered to Calian on a platter." He turned to face us, his expression unreadable. Then he pointed to two empty chairs across from Cathe.

"Sit," he said.

"We have much to discuss, and very little time."