The Baron looks for men

Bran leaned heavily against the wall and amused himself by blowing on the fringe of hair that hung down over his face. Each time it lifted like a wing until he stopped to take a breath, and then it fell back over his eye.

He had done this fifteen or twenty times before he heard boots running down the stairs of the tower opposite the guardhouse. He stood to attention just in time, for it was the Baron himself come down.

“Guard!” the Baron cried in relief as soon as he stepped onto the court.

Bran bowed, but he looked up at the Baron from under his hair. The man seemed to be greatly upset – even feverish.

“I need your help – I need men!”

“We are at your lordship’s service,” Bran said with another bow.

“Quickly – how many are you?”

“Is there trouble?”

“I need men – how many are you? Do you know where to find the trapdoor to the chamber under the court?”

Bran glanced back at the door to the guardhouse. “Perhaps we shall ask my captain.”

“Yes! Your captain! How many are you?”

“Four on guard tonight.”

“That should do. Will it do?” he asked frantically. “I need men to break through the trapdoor. We need to get down there.”

The door opened and, to Bran’s great relief, the Captain himself stepped outside.

“My lord?” the Captain bowed.

“I need men. We need to break through.”

“My lord?” The Captain glanced at Bran, but Bran did not dare explain. He did not quite understand himself, but he certainly wanted nothing to do with that trapdoor.

“There’s someone trapped down there,” the Baron said quickly. “We need to break through.”

“Down there?” the Captain gasped. “How?”

“I can hear him!”

“Bran?”

“I didn’t hear nothing,” Bran shrugged.

“Are you deaf?” the Baron cried. “I could hear him quite clearly! My room is directly above the chamber.”

All three looked up. It was true that the Baron slept directly over the court, but Bran was certain he had not heard anything.

“You were at your post?” the Captain asked him.

“I certainly was!” Bran cried.

“Do you know the location of the door?” the Baron insisted. “We need men to break it. We need to get down.”

“Begging your lordship’s pardon,” the Captain said, “but His Majesty’s order is that the trapdoor be guarded just as closely as the gate.”

“His Majesty isn’t here! I am in command here! Shall we leave the man down there until he returns?”

“We shall do as your lordship orders, of course, but I thought your lordship should know His Majesty’s orders, and that we disobey them by following yours.”

“Fine, fine. I shall explain to His Majesty. Now hurry! Get your men! Get your picks! We need to break through.”

“Come on,” the Captain said low to Bran, and the two turned into the guardhouse.

“He don’t seem quite well,” Bran whispered to him.

“What can I do? Lord Hingwar is away.”

“The Queen is here,” Bran protested.

“Do you suppose His Majesty would want us to wake the Queen for such a thing? What could the poor girl do? Come along, you two wretches,” he said loudly to the other two guards. “At least you worthless vermin will have your curiosity satisfied at last. Perhaps we shall all go down.”