The Princess's Secret [completed]

25: Declaration of War.

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Herschel.

I hate this part of the woods. Herschel swallowed nervously and continued walking. He was wearing the outer clothing of a barbarian, with his armor hidden beneath. His mission was simple; Go to Damon’s castle and spy, gather any useful information, and leave.

He glanced around again and froze, spotting a large shadow moving through the trees in the distance. The form was huge, at least seven feet tall and built like a buffalo.

The sword hanging at his side had to be the size of a man’s leg. Herschel swallowed. He was definately in the right part of the woods.

He waited until the figure was out of sight, grateful for the gathering darkness, then continued, trying to walk as silently as he could. The crunching snow seemed to take pleasure in his fear, and it felt as though it got louder and louder with every step. Just don’t step on a stick! He silently begged, heart pounding in his ears.

His entire body was shaking by the time he spotted the castle, a looming shadow that seemed to surpress the outside world. Smoke was still in the air from the attack days ago, but the stone still stood, stubborn and ugly.

Hershel chewed a cracked lip as he studied the angles. The last thing he wanted to do was use the tunnels, they would be expecting that. But the rooftops… He tried to think back to when he was a soldier for Damon. Did I ever have a reason to look up?

The only time he’d ever looked up was when rescuing the King, but he’d only done so because he’d seen Caspian come from there. He’d been following an officer, they were on their way to relieve two guards, when he’d seen a shadow leap from the roof onto one of the guards.

He’d seen the other men dragging the King in earlier and put two and two together. When the officer in front of him drew his sword and opened the door to attack, he’d made his decision. The most costly one of his life, but also the best one.

Now he needed to use the same angle. He had better chances than the King had had, because he knew the layout of the buildings.

He selected a section of wall well hidden in darkness, belly-crawling towards it. He glanced around at the guard posts as he went, realizing the section of wall was out of sight from all guards.

He finally arrived at the wall, rising to his feet cautiously. The wall had slim cracks between the stones, just enough to get his fingers into.

He pulled boot attatchments from a pouch on his belt. The Black Knights had developed special spikes for their boots, that could be added by hand if needed. The spikes were designed for climbing walls such as this.

He quickly tightened the bolts on the sides and tried to wiggle the spikes. They were solid. Time to find out if these things really work. He grabbed the stones, shoving the spikes into one of the cracks…

Minutes later, he was atop the roof, debating taking the spikes off before continuing. If I have to run for it, I won’t have time to put them back on. He glanced down the way he’d come. A fall like that would kill him. But if you wear them, they might cause you to make too much noise and give yourself away, then you’d definately have to run for it.

Maybe or almost definately… Not much of a choice. He took them off, praying he wouldn’t need to run.

He made his way along the rooftops to the tower where Damon met with his officers, glad to see light inside. He crouched by the window, staying in the shadows as much as possible.

He could feel his feet sliding slightly on the wet roof, and tensed. Then he heard the sound of men talking, and leaned slightly closer to the window.