Chapter Five
Aaron held his sword in his hand, admiring the fine decoration on the handle and wondering whom its original owner was before Bethan had stolen it from them. She had spent the last couple of days ensuring that he had both all of the knowledge and equipment that he needed to successfully enter the castle and stay alert for the whole time that he was there. She didn’t want to take any chances of getting caught and trusted Aaron so well that she was able to teach him all of her secrets to staying undetected.
There was so much more to planning the rescue than Aaron had ever expected, he now understood what Bethan had meant by telling him that climbing over the walls to the castle on the first day that they met would have been suicide; they had spent the last few days making absolutely sure that they knew every information that they would need to.
Firstly, they knew that there would be two guards watching the main entrance to the castle and this would be the entrance that they would be using. Therefore, they decided that the best option to pass these would be to use the sleeping remedy that Bethan had created a couple of days previously by tricking them into thinking that they were drinking water. Luckily for them, the sleeping remedy was colourless, odourless and tasteless so the guards would be unable to suspect that it wasn’t water.
When they were sure that the entrance was clear, they would quickly yet quietly pass through the gates and make there way into the main part of the castle and descend down a staircase that, according to a drunk and rather stupid guard that Bethan and Aaron had met in the town, led to the dungeons where Andrew and Veronica Black were very likely to be held.
“Are you ready?” Bethan asked Aaron as she passed him one small bottle of the sleeping remedy and kept another for herself.
“As I’ll ever be,” He replied; his nerves took over him, as he knew that he had only one chance to attempt this and his own parent’s lives depended on it.
“Got your weapon? Got your potion?” She checked his possessions as she checked her own. Aaron nodded as she gave him an encouraging smile and began to walk out towards the edge of the forest.
*
The walk to the town had never felt so long. Aaron felt his heart beating in his chest and his teeth began to chatter. Bethan gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze but did not speak, as she knew that whatever she said would just worry him even more.
He felt lucky to have Bethan with him as he tried to do this; without her he would have certainly been caught and would have ended up no better than his parents. She knew so much of how to attempt entry to Linchester’s castle and she knew of what would and wouldn’t work – she was as determined as he was to rescue his parents and find her necklace again.
Aaron and Bethan stopped as the reached Lord Linchester’s mighty castle. They were stood by the wall where Aaron had tried to climb when they met so there weren’t any guards watching this side. He took a deep breath and looked to his companion as she hid their swords in a nearby bush.
“Good luck,” she whispered to him, smiling to put him at ease. “I know you can do this.”
“You too.” He replied as he returned her smile. He looked up at the towering wall to Linchester’s castle and pushed all doubt out of his mind; he had to do this for his parents.
The two teenagers walked towards the main entrance to the castle, silent as they thought through the plan in their minds and convinced themselves that they could do it. As they came closer to the entrance they began mumbling to each other, as if they were deep in conversation and were just walking by the castle.
“You there!” Sounded the booming voice of one of the guards, “Where do you think you are going?”
Bethan looked to the guard who had just spoken, “We’re just passing by,” she replied.
“Huh? That’s a likely story,” scoffed the second of the two guards, “Turn out your pockets.”
Aaron and Bethan showed the guards how they had no possessions on them except for a glass bottle of water each. “Honestly, sir,” she spoke in an innocent, girly voice, “We are simply walking by.”
“What do you have in those bottles?” Queried the taller guard, pointing to Aaron’s hand.
“It’s water that we have collected from a nearby stream.” Aaron spoke his well-rehearsed lie but the guard still frowned at him.
“Clean water?” Asked the guard, “It’s impossible to collect clean water from any stream around here; the only person who drinks clean water is Lord Linchester who has it transported here from far-off springs.”
“How have you little toe-rags got your hands on clean water?” Questioned the other guard, “Have you been stealing from castle supplies?”
“No, we-“ Bethan attempted to protest but the guards cut her speech short.
“Hand that water over, now.” The taller guard ordered, a menacing grin upon his face.
Aaron and Bethan passed the two bottles into the hands of the two guards without complaining. “Now get out of here, you little brats!” The guard spat at them as the turned and ran back the way the came.
“Stupid children,” grumbled one of the guards, who were still well within earshot of Aaron and Bethan.
“How did they get their filthy little hands on this when the rest of us have to settle for that disgusting river water?” The other replied.
“You know,” the first guard lowered his voice; “We do have pure, clean water in our hands.”
“Oh yes,” the second guard understood what his colleague was hinting at, “Linchester doesn’t need to know that a couple of bottles of water have gone missing.”
“He wouldn’t even notice,” remarked the first guard, “Come on, we’ve worked a long, hard day; we deserve this.”
“Agreed,” replied the second guard, as they unscrewed the lids off the bottles, “Cheers.”
Two gentle thuds and clunking of glasses told Bethan and Aaron that the two guards were now laying, fast asleep, on the floor. They ran towards the gate and dragged their bodies to one side, Bethan unclipping a set of keys of one of the guard’s belt. She turned the key in the lock and swung the gate open, ensuring that it made as little noise as possible.
They checked that the cost was clear and then ran towards the main tower, running as close as they could to the wall to allow room to hide if anyone unexpected approached them. Seeing a guard stood at the entrance to the tower that led to the staircase, they crept past him to a small window that led them the same way down to the dungeons.
If Aaron and Bethan had been adults, this window would have been too small for them to climb through but they were both very thin and slight so they found it easy to crawl through it and land beyond the reach of the guard that they were avoiding.
“Down here,” whispered Bethan, indicating down the long, dark staircase that was lit by the occasional torch that emitted a very dim glow.
They raced down the stairs, stumbling every now and again on an uneven step but still remaining undetected. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, they were met by and overwhelming stench of ill and dying people.
“This is where my mother and father have been kept?” Aaron gasped, disgusted at the conditions of the cells they saw around them.
The room before them had very little light but this was shielding Aaron from seeing the full extent of how awfully the people here were looked after. Each cell contained two to three people and a single wooden plank that they were supposed to sleep on. Bars separated each one and there were so many people that the two children found it hard to hear themselves think over the wailing and crying out.
A man in the cell closest to them grabbed onto the bars surrounding his cell and pulled himself closer to the children, cackling. In the little light that there was, Aaron could see the state that this man was in and it made him feel ill.
He had dirty, tangled hair and a long knotted beard; his teeth were yellow and his eyes bloodshot and watery. He wore nothing but torn and bloodstained rags to cover his skeletal body and there was a deep, swollen cut down one of his cheeks.
The man looked at the two children, a wild and unpredictable expression upon his haunted face. He flicked his tongue at them like a serpent and licked his lips. “Itsy, bitsy children,” he hissed, laughing and raking his long, pointed fingernails across the cut on his cheek, making it bleed.
Bethan moved closer to him. “Bethan, no!” warned Aaron, “The man is crazy – we need to be searching for my parents.”
She placed a gentle hand on Aaron’s arm, acknowledging his warning but still moving towards the prisoner. “Can you help us?” She whispered to the man.
He cackled again. “Help?” The man reached through the bars and grabbed onto Bethan’s arm, piercing her skin with his nails, “There is no such word?”
“Get off her!” Aaron pulled Bethan out of the prisoner’s grasp, “Come on, Bethan.”
“Help? HELP?” The man looked directly into her sparkling eyes, “When I came, where were they? Where was help? Sixteen years! WHERE WAS HELP?”
“Bethan, get away from him.” Aaron grabbed her hand and attempted to pull but she stayed where she was, “He can’t help us - he’s a madman.”
“The boy,” the man looked closer at Aaron, “He looks of the farm, the big man with his wifely woman.”
“What’s he talking about?” Aaron frowned, “He isn’t making any sense, Bethan, please can we go?”
“You look of the farm man,” the prisoner repeated, this time addressing Aaron, “The big man who wished for help. I told him help no come but he believed, he talked, he talked of you.”
“Hang on,” Bethan looked back at the prisoner, now beginning to understand what he was saying.
“You…” The man thought carefully and looked deep into the small boy’s eyes, “Aaron.”
“How do you know my name?” Aaron stepped back, almost tripping but not staring away from the wild man.
The prisoner threw his head back in laughter. His eyes were ablaze like a flame and he cackled like a hyena.
“What do you know of Andrew and Veronica Black?” Ordered Bethan, “Where are they?”
The man continued to laugh. “The lordly man! The lordly man, the evil man, the ugly man! He took away the farm man and his wifely woman to see the man with the power to hurt. Oh, it HURTS! It hurts and it hurts and IT HURTS! The hurty man does take for days. I know not where or when until.” He cackled manically again and then sat down on the floor.
“Oh, it hurts.” He whispered. He clasped his hands around his knees and began to rock himself forwards and backwards.
“Oh Aaron, don’t you understand?” Bethan turned to him and grabbed his hand, “Your parents aren’t here.”
“What?” Aaron’s lip trembled; he was astounded that she had been able to understand what the madman had been talking about, “Where are they?”
“I think,” she looked Aaron in the eye, “I think that Linchester has taken them for torture.”
“What?” He backed away from her, though he knew that it wasn’t her fault, “But they haven’t done anything wrong!”
“But we don’t know that for sure,” she reminded him, trying her hardest to quieten him.
“What are you saying?” He snapped, not wanting to be upset with Bethan but wanting to know what’s going on.
“I–“ Bethan’s protest was cut short as heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.
“Someone’s coming,” she hissed to Aaron, her voice frantic and worried “Quick, we need to hide.”
