She settled her right foot in a relatively deep hole in the wall of the cliff and, while holding on to a sharp edge with her left hand, used the somewhat stable position to drive another piton in a small crack in the rock. She had covered the hammer with cloth to tone down the noise but it still rang loudly in her ears. The fact that they had tested the level of the noise earlier that day and she knew it could not be heard farther than a few metres away did little to calm her. Their plan was entirely dependant on her success and if the potential guards at the top of the tower heard her hammering, she was as good as dead and with her any chance for Rowald to take back his city would be gone.
Aelia wondered, as she had done many times in the last few days, why she was risking her life to help a man she had barely met, a man who had tied her up and locked her away, no less. She could continue telling herself that it was only the bargain struck with him to gain back her freedom, but she knew better. Their trip to Caersten and the two days spent planning the attack had revealed a different side of Rowald. He had offered to release her of their deal and set her free when he thought the risk to her life was too great. After she stubbornly refused and insisted to go through with the initial plan, he had included her in the discussion with his advisors. He listened to her opinions and seemed to value them. He hadn't kissed her since the morning they spent at the base of the cliff and she avoided meeting him on a personal level, as she needed to keep her head clear for the upcoming mission.
Forcing her thoughts back to the cold surface she was ascending, she passed the safety rope though the eye of the piton and searched for the next support for her left foot. She had already been climbing for over an hour and she wasn't even near halfway to the top. She had started immediately after nightfall and she had only a few hours to complete her ascent. Rowald and his men would follow her using the ropes she would send them. They would take a while to reach the tower and all had to be done under the cover of night.
Suddenly, the edge she had grabbed onto moved and in less than a second she was tumbling down; luckily, the last piton was only a few metres below and the fall was quickly stopped by the rope. She let herself dangle for a few seconds, calming her breath and gathering her strength and started back up the abrupt cliff.
Some 50 metres below, Rowald's heart nearly stopped when he saw the dark silhouette tumbling down the cliff. She had warned him that this might happen and assured him that she would be secured with the help of the pitons and rope, but hearing about it and actually seeing it happen were entirely different matters. He cursed himself for the umpteenth time for allowing her to get involved in this fight. It was not her fight and if he hadn't been so desperate to regain control over his conquered capital he would have refused her bargain from the very beginning. He knew he was beginning to have feelings for the strange vixen who had entered his life so suddenly not two weeks ago, but he decided this was not the time or place to explore the reasons why he didn't want her life endangered. Instead, he concentrated on reviewing the plan they had devised together.
Earlier that day, their troops were enhanced by the small but well trained army of lord Blair of Xanar, one of the most powerful chieftains in the kingdom and an old ally of king Aldric. Their plan was that, after Aelia reached the tower, she would throw them ropes so that he and a selected few warriors could climb and make their way to the secret tunnel which ran underneath the walls of the fortress, where they would slay the guards and let in as many of their soldiers as possible. By now, the Syrtari invaders were aware of the troops camped outside the walls, but they had no reason to believe that they would attack so soon. To keep them busy, he had sent a message giving them an ultimatum to leave the city within three days time, offering them safe passage out of the kingdom. He knew they would refuse, relying on the famous impenetrability of the fortress, but figured they would not expect any trouble from him until the deadline expired.
He was painfully aware of the many flaws in the plan. They had built it on the presumption that there was no guard in the tower. There usually wasn't one, because the cliff was considered the best possible protection from any assailants. But what if the Syrtars had decided to play it as safe as possible and posted guards? Of course, Aelia was not entirely helpless when it came to defending herself, but it was still very dangerous. That was assuming she made it up at all, and seeing her hang between life and death by a thin rope made him doubt the plan even more.
It was close to dawn when she climbed over the parapet of the bastion tower. As they had expected, given the apparent impossibility of anyone climbing the high cliff to reach the tower, the conquerors of Caersten had placed no guard in that spot. She quickly secured the rope she had been carrying in her backpack to the flag pole and threw it into the darkness below. A few minutes later, it began to dangle, making it apparent that someone was using it to climb.
"What in the name of Tiammar are you doing here?!!" She spun on her heels only to be thrown on the floor by a numbing backhand. The light of the emerging dawn began to fade...
Rowald was the first to climb the rope sent down; it was a deadly plan and he wasn't going to let anyone else risk his life first. Of course, she had already done that, he told himself somewhat bitterly. As he approached the edge of the tower, he heard what could only be described the muffled sounds of a fight. He quickened his climbing pace and jumped over the parapet, only to be confronted with the sight of a huge soldier kneeling over Aelia. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, knocking the man over just a split second before the dagger he was holding reached her chest. The blow left the man dizzy long enough for Rowald to finish him off.
"It sure took you a while to get here" she said, trying to sound light and sarcastic but failing to completely cover the shiver in her voice. She had spent the last few minutes (which had seemed as an eternity) keeping the burly Syrtari guard from cutting the rope, but it seemed like everything was over when she had tripped and fallen on her back just in time to watch his black grin and the shine of the dagger approaching her fast. The next seconds were a blur, as the man was knocked off her and she was suddenly free; at last, she saw her prince standing over the lifeless body of her would-be killer. He turned to her and, without hesitation, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. It was a kiss more intimate and more personal than any they had shared so far. In fact, she realized, as she melted against his rock-hard body, it was nothing like any kiss she had received before.
"Emm... you think you two could maybe put this off until, I don't know, we finish taking this city back?" Maelwyn jumped over the edge and began tying another rope to the flag pole. Then he noticed the dead man in one of the corners of the platform and raised an eyebrow at the couple.
"Yes, I'd also like to know what happened here. Why did you even enter the tower if you saw there was a guard?" Rowald's initial fear for her safety turned into anger. How could she had been so careless? The deal was to avoid endangering her life as much as possible during this mission, and she had gone and done just that. What if she had been...
"He wasn't up here when I finished climbing. He came just as I threw you the rope. Can we argue about this later?" she retorted, her own temper flaring.
"So you've been holding him back until Rowald got up?" Maelwyn was impressed. He had heard that she'd put up quite a fight when Rowald's border mission had taken her prisoner, but until now he was mostly inclined to attribute the stories to the men's rather creative imagination.
"Yes, we've been having a very interesting conversation. Now, do you want to finish this or shall we all climb back down have our morning coffee?"
More of the Farran soldiers had made their way up the ropes and the small squad was now ready for the next step of the plan. Aelia and Rowald locked eyes before he entered the narrow staircase leading into the fortress; it was a brief exchange but it spoke volumes. She would have to remain on the platform of the tower until victory was secured, but he knew her thoughts would be with him.
Hours later, Rowald was enraged and frustrated. The attack had gone according to plan and they had slaughtered most of the Syrtari invaders; some had been taken prisoners and even fewer had managed to escape. His and Lord Blair's troops had suffered few losses, taking full advantage of the element of surprise. However, the traitor Anwirad was nowhere to be found. Rowald had been dreaming about tearing him apart limb from limb, and now it seemed that his revenge would have to wait.
For now, he had to make sure his control over the city was secured and he had to quickly step into his new role as king. As the last of the Syrtars were either killed or tied and taken to the dungeons, he stood covered in blood on the balcony overlooking the main square of the city, the same his father used to address his people. It was a sunny day and he let the noon light wash over him. He looked at the people who were coming out of their houses or hiding place and gathering in the square; he listened to their cheers and assured them that they were now safe and that he would protect them; he announced that there was a reward on Anwirad's head.
Aelia had begun to lose track of time in the tower looming over the northern part of the fortress. From where she was standing, she could hear the sounds of battle, but could see very little. She had agreed to wait until Rowald would send someone to get her, when he was sure the city was safe, but she was growing impatient. After a while, she decided that the suspense would kill her more surely than a Syrtari blade, so she began making her way down the inner staircase. The tower was much wider than the platform they had used as entry point, so she soon found herself roaming empty corridors and halls, some littered with bloody dead bodies.
She had descended several levels when she reached a room which had a window overlooking a large square. As she peeked through it, she saw what seemed to be the royal palace on the other side of the square. The square was occupied by several hundred people, all cheering in the direction of the palace. She could see Rowald standing on a balcony, right hand raised towards the sky, bloody sword in his fist, as he spoke to them. His eyes roamed over the crowd and locked with hers. He smiled and the acclaims erupted again, even louder, although she knew the smile was meant for her, and only for her.
Later that evening...
Aelia was soaking in a hot, scented bath, eyes closed, while her mind was roaming over the events of the day. Just a week before, she would have laughed at anyone who would have told her that she would meet a Prince Charming and get involved in a violent battle to help him take his rightful throne. And now, she was bathing in a sumptuous apartment which looked like it belonged in one of the many museum castles she had visited, while her hair was being gently washed by a diligent servant girl.
Later, as she put on a silk night gown and prepared to get some long-overdue sleep, she thought of him, this time wondering how he was coping with his father's death, now that his goal to retake the city had been achieved and there was nothing to keep his focus away from the loss he had suffered. She had only known him for a week, but she was sure that he wasn't the type to seek emotional support even in times like this.
"Take me to the king's apartments, please" she asked the girl, as she was putting a long robe over the gown.
Rowald was standing on the small balcony of his bedroom in the south side of the castle, taking in the spectacular view of the Seldain mountains. He had spent what remained of the day after the victory trying to locate his father's remains. Finally, one of the Syrtari prisoners had confessed that the body had been thrown into the sea, to prevent his people from burying him and turning his grave into a place of pilgrimage. That he would not even have a proper place to mourn his father served to enrage him even further, strengthening his decision retaliate against Syrta as soon as possible.
