The Stoneholding

swaddled in blankets.

"No, no don't be afraid, Your Highness. Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. Listen closely, we haven't much time. I'm Frysan Wright, Captain of your highland Life Guardsmen, loyal to a man," he whispered, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder in the direction of the antechamber. He had slipped into his highland brogue. It reassured her, just as it had betrayed him to Baldrick. At once he could see the painful look of doubt begin to lift from her eyes.

"My men and I -- we're here to set you free, to take you and the Prince to safety, and the King too, but our ruse has failed. Baldrick has sniffed me out. There, the open door there, where does it lead?" He pointed with his finger to the looming darkness that lay beyond a door that was flung wide open on its hinges, two lamps on either side.

"It's another bedchamber. It's where the King lies, close so I can tend to him. The windows have bars just like this room. There used to be another door in that room, but they've bolted it fast."

Frysan flung aside his draper's cap and his cloak and was reaching back over his shoulder to pull the dagger from out of the sheath next to his skin, while he kicked off his boots with an inward sigh of relief. They had pinched and hobbled him, making his aching tendon worse. Now on stocking feet at least he could ...