Caste couldn’t sleep. He’d tried but the reality of the situation was his very reputation hung in the balance. Forget being executed for collusion in the felony of stealing from a knight, Caste knew his livelihood in the Order would be shattered because of LaMogre’s sense of righteousness.

  He hated that he was being forced into an action he would not have taken otherwise.

  Yes, he lamented Suvau’s pitiable state and despite his aversion to Mauls, he would not want the big man to endure Fort Mavour and Donimede’s brutality. But, upon weighing up the odds of the snippet of communication and the likelihood that Suvau would be able to get the Mauls out of Mavour and into the wall without being discovered, Caste had decided the odds were slimmer than Judd LaMogre attaining knighthood.

  The problem was, now that Judd was only a single mark away from knighthood, he had clearly decided that any action, no matter how foolhardy, was plausible!

  And dragged others into his wake of foolishness.

  He shivered, the coals no longer warming him like they had when the fire was new. Caste couldn’t risk stoking it, the night starting to wane. So he shifted closer to it, bringing his knees up to his chest and blowing into his hands. On the other side of the hut, like a cocoon, were Aalis and Giordi’s bodies curled towards each other. It would almost be romantic but for the presence of the Maul baby between them, sharing their warmth. Giordi snored lightly but Aalis was completely silent and still.

  How she could sleep so soundly at a time like this was beyond Caste.

  And then he decided he couldn’t handle the chill anymore. He stood up and wrapped himself in every available blanket he could reach and staggered out of the hut, closing the flap tightly behind himself. The air outside was bitter but Caste couldn’t pace inside without waking the baby.

  Even he had his limits of selfishness.

  Outside he huffed into his hands again and stamped his feet, almost jogging on the spot to get the blood flowing through his legs. He was so busy trying to keep warm that he almost missed the kneeling form of Aalis beyond the palisade. Caste frowned and glanced at the hut then closed his eyes and groaned silently. She had used blankets to form her body’s shape to keep the warm air around the baby. No wonder she was sleeping so silently!

  He shook his head, walking to the palisade. No doubt she was as worried about Judd as Caste but the cleric knew their worries were based upon very different motivations. Caste didn’t want to be caught. He knew it. Everyone knew it. He was selfish, trying to protect himself while others suffered…but LaMogre asking Caste to help him was the last straw of compliance.

  Aalis, on the other hand, despite being a witch and a perfectly executable person even without the entanglement of stealing from a knight, was always moved by compassion. It was why she was awake now, watching and waiting, worried about Judd, not because she might be caught and exposed but because lives of Mauls hung in the balance.

  It was brave.

  It was selfless.

  Two things Caste knew he wasn’t.

  But no one had ever looked out for him. Caste had learned to do so himself. Anything Judd or the others had done to protect him was only a result of being Caste being forced to go on this ridiculous knighthood quest. He hadn’t asked for it and he certainly hadn’t wanted it.

  He just wanted to go home.

  As he wrestled internally, a thought nagged him and finally broke through into his consciousness that Aalis wasn’t moving. Caste approached the palisade, risking frostbite to wrap his fingers around the sharpened posts, opening his mouth to speak when he saw the land between the campsite and the wall was well lit with the light of the moon. Caste’s heart sank. No one could move in that expanse and not be seen. Whatever cover there had been at the start of the night was gone.

  It was like a barren chess board. Even a single piece would protrude and be noticed immediately.

  Caste closed his eyes, knowing that Judd was about to fail spectacularly, just one monster mark shy of his knighthood and all those with him would be stained by association.

  He glanced at Zeke, the only mount left and felt a surge of selfishness as he wondered if he could saddle the placid mount and take off without anyone noticing. He could ride to Fort Mavour and decry LaMogre, thereby distancing himself from the ‘almost’ knight’s actions. It was a hateful thought, even to Caste as he imagined Verne, Giordi and the Maul babe caught in the net, dragged before Donimede. His stomach churned and he felt weak and despicable.

  He sighed and hung his head, knowing that, if he had the choice, he couldn’t run. He mightn’t like his companions all that much but he couldn’t turn them in. Besides, knowing his luck, it would only backfire on him in some inexplicable way.

  Resolved to the inevitability that, when the soldiers arrived to arrest them, Caste would be standing with his companions and not against, he went to return to the hut…

  …and saw a wash of fog rising across the ground between the campsite and the wall. Caste dashed to the fence line, eyes wide, chill forgotten as he watched the fog, faint at first, begin to thicken and become opaque, its embrace obscuring everything. The trees looked as though they were planted in it, rocks and boulders disappeared and the landscape became hills and valleys of white.

  Caste’s breath stalled then, inexplicably, his eyes dropped to Aalis, her fingers splayed on the ground, every one of her dark nails exposed. Caste glanced between Aalis and the fog several times before clutching his blankets around himself and fleeing back to the hut, shaking violently.

  “Too much,” he shivered, curling up into a ball, “too much…”

  Judd was walking as quickly as he dared along the base of the wall. Despite being chilled to the bone from barely moving as he had waited for Suvau for over an hour at the door, Judd would have welcomed a rainstorm or violent wind. Anything that would cover his dash from one door to the other. Unfortunately it was a clear night with little cloud cover. Had Judd needed to run across the fields, he would have been easily seen. Thankfully the firebreak and trees along either side of it had concealed his approach and he hoped there would be another way of hiding his and a whole lot of Mauls retreating from the wall.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  He recalled Verne waiting with the horses and closed his eyes. They hadn’t discussed a secondary plan in case the first one failed. Verne would still be waiting where Judd had left him…her…

  He…well, she…had the horses and the warm clothing. And while the nights were dangerously cold, dawn was even more so.

  The challenges were mounting and time was fast ebbing away. If he couldn’t get the Mauls out of the wall within the next two hours, there would be no way they’d make the tree line cover before the sun came up.

  And he wasn’t even sure he knew just how far along the next door was.

  Riding on Xenon, Fort Mavour’s territory was easily traversed.

  On foot, it was a lot further and Judd was growing tired.

  When the ground became softer he took some more risks, jogging on the grass then stifling a groan as his boot sank into mud. He had to pull it out, kick off what he could and continue to jog. Finally he spied an irregularity in the wall’s relatively smooth surface. It was the slightly protruding stone edge of the frame for the doors. Judd would have given a shuddering sob of relief upon seeing it except he was somewhat breathless and he was pretty sure there was a soldier on the wall above.

  He sidled up to the door and eyed the beam that barred it from opening. There was no lock this time. Donimede didn’t have weapons stored beyond it that he wanted to protect. This beam was to keep monsters, who might get into the wall, from bashing their way through wood and not stone. Though Judd would be able to unbar the door in theory, he was suddenly confronted with the physical strength required to do so. The beam would be difficult for Suvau to lift. Judd looked up at the wall, listening for the soldier. He couldn’t see anyone up there but there was a lamp which usually meant there was a poor, lonely soldier on sentry duty standing near it, trying to soak up its pathetic warmth.

  Judd put his hands on the end of the beam and tried to lift it. He barred his teeth and put his back into it, feeling it shift slightly. It was taking all of his strength to heave it up just that small amount.

  “I’m not sure I can do this…” He whispered. “Maul…I’m not strong enough.”

  He paused and breathed, reasoning that, until he heard Suvau’s voice on the inside of the wall, there was little more he could do except wait. He paced back and forth, his muddy boot becoming terribly cold and his hands wanted to slap themselves together, trying to bring feeling back into his fingers.

  “Breathe…just breathe…keep moving…” He chanted softly to himself, retracing his steps over and over. While the pacing was keeping him from freezing, every turn reminded him that time was wicking away. It would not be long now until Judd would face the very real possibility that he’d have to abandon his friend.

  “No…not again.” Judd vowed. “Not again…”

  “Judd?” He jolted and looked at the door. “Judd?”

  “Wait…Verne?” He leaned towards the door then shook his head and turned to where Verne was standing behind him. “What in Maul…” Verne put her finger to her lips and he nodded. “Why…how…”

  “I could see you run to the first set of doors then, after nearly two hours, run back this way.” Verne explained in his ear. “I brought Xenon and Quell as far across as I could then as close as I dared.”

  “How are you hiding them?”

  “Uh…Judd?” Verne turned and gestured.

  Judd beheld the landscape and gaped. A thick fog had obscured Mavour territory. It was covering the ground, as opaque as whipped butter, smearing everything in five foot thick icing.

  “How did I not see that?”

  “You’ve been preoccupied with your feet.” Verne rolled her eyes. “We’ve got to get that bar off.”

  “I’m relieved you’re here. I don’t think I can do it on my own.” Judd admitted then paused. “Are you sure you can…do this?” Verne put her hands on her hips and gave him her hardest, sharpest glare. Judd recoiled, knowing he was treading on thin ice. “Right, sorry…”

  “Need to be quiet.” Verne added. “There’s a soldier up there.”

  “Then on three?” Judd braced himself in the middle of the two metal arms that held the hefty wooden bar while Verne took one end. “One…”

  “Just go already.” She hissed and they pushed upwards together, able to lift the bar out of its snug metal arm embrace…but then they wobbled, unable to drop it silently. Verne’s end fell from her shoulder and sank into the muddy ground…but the end they hadn’t been able to lift, while no longer in the metal arm, was too close to the wall and clunked against it loudly.

  Judd and Verne froze, cringing and waiting in agonising silence…

  …only to hear the soldier on the wall above snore loudly.

  Judd sagged against the wall while Verne turned around on the spot, both wanting to cry out with relief yet both unable to do so. When they had recovered, Judd eased open one of the doors, feeling how stiff the hinges were. No one had used this door at all for a long time and when he put his head inside he could see why.

  “Verne, look.”

  There were beams and rubble on both sides of the door and even one in front of it.

  “Do you think that cave in will be enough to stop Suvau?” Verne asked softly.

  “I’m not sure.” Judd tapped his teeth together and looked at the fog. “I’m going to see how far along I can go. Can you get the horses? We’ll need to make a quick escape on them.”

  “On it.” Verne dashed away while Judd eased past the first beam and began to shuffle his way along. This section of the wall was in bad shape on the inside. He marvelled that it had not been knocked down and simply rebuilt. Building over the top of the debris would have been difficult to say the least. As he edged further and further from the door, he heard a scuttling in the darkness.

  “By Andigre…not another spider…” He whispered. “Suvau?”

  Out of the almost opaque blackness, a face appeared, startling Judd with the whites of their eyes and teeth. Judd slapped his hands over his mouth, silencing a yelp of fright.

  “Suvau?” He asked.

  “Gustin,” the young man said, “Suvau is…he’s behind us.”

  “I’m Judd LaMogre. Suvau is a friend.” Judd stepped aside. “Keep going to the open door where Verne is waiting with clothing and horses. Take care to remain silent, there is a soldier overhead.”

  Gustin nodded and moved past him, near a dozen Mauls following him. Judd nodded to each of them, seeing the fear in their expressions but also relief that there was an end to their long, claustrophobic night. Judd was not surprised that Suvau would be at the rear, making sure no one was left behind. But he was filled with grief at seeing him stumble forwards, his arm draped over another Maul’s shoulder.

  “What happened?” Judd asked, dashing towards them, taking Suvau’s other arm.

  “The way was completely blocked,” the Maul explained, “Suvau was using his back to move a beam out of the way when it slipped from its resting place and hit him hard. He was conscious enough to tell us to move on…then he blacked out.”

  Judd helped the Maul manoeuvre Suvau to the doors. Though he was struggling with staying conscious, when he was awake and aware, he did what he could to do what they needed but it didn’t last long and he would slump again, his body shaking.

  Outside the wall, Judd waved to Verne who immediately understood and brought Xenon over. Suvau couldn’t be roused so they draped him over Xenon’s back.

  “We’ve got to get him to Aalis.”

  “What about the door?” Verne nodded.

  “You lead whoever can go with you now. I’ll follow.” Judd grabbed the man who had shouldered Suvau and another Maul who looked less ragged and exhausted than the others. “Hey, I need your help. We have to put the beam back.”

  “Why?” The taller man asked, watching as Judd closed the door.

  “Because a patrol only needs to see the missing beam or open door to start to work out where you escaped from…and then there are few places you could go.” Between them they were able to lift the beam up and onto the metal arms then follow Verne…not that they could see him to follow him. The fog was like trying to walk through soup. They could have been going in circles except for the lamps on top of the wall. The little specks of gold were all that they could see and as long as they kept one directly behind them, Judd knew they were heading to the edge of Mavour territory.

  Staggeringly, against all odds, Judd was astonished to realise they had succeeded.