A wave of exhaustion tumbled over Kay, and she let her head fall into her hands for a long moment, desperately marshaling her strength. Her legs throbbed in pain, her shoulders ached, her eyes were having trouble staying focused. She could not remember the last night she had slept soundly. Maybe if she spared a few hours to rest, she would be primed to assist when night fell and the outside forces were able to move into action.

She shook her head, pushing aside the thought with force. She could not let her men come into the situation blind. It was her duty to scout out the situation, to know where the guards had been stationed and to do all she could to help the invasion succeed.

She chuckled wryly as she pushed herself back to a standing position. Of all things, for her to be planning an attack on Serenor! Only a few days ago it would have seemed the most unlikely scenario she could possibly imagine.

She moved slowly over to the door, cautious of her injured legs, and pulled it open. There were no guards stationed on the other side, and the staircase seemed quiet. She took the steps with care, making her way down the long spiral to the first floor. Several men lounged at the various tables, sipping at ale or playing dice. One or two looked up at her approach, then dismissed her without a second glance.

Good. She would not be watched as she went about her explorations.

She moved back into the stairwell, continuing down to the lower floor. Her first order of business was to examine the cellar again, to clear out any boxes or bags which might block the tunnel wall. She wanted the incursion to be as risk-free as possible for Reese and the others.

She reached the barracks floor, and again the few men present paid her little heed as she moved back toward the storeroom and cellar door area. She just had to round the corner and …

Kay froze in unbelieving shock. An iron frame had been bolted to the stonework around the door, holding a thickly grilled portcullis in place. A pair of hinges on one side would let the gate swing free, but a sturdy lock hung from the other edge, securely keeping the metal grid closed.

Kay fought to keep from sinking to her knees in abject horror. There was no way the men could get through that metal in one evening, never mind without attracting the attention of every soldier within the keep complex. The plan was lost. She was lost. She was trapped in Serenor, of her own volition, and tomorrow her family would abandon her to her fates. Reese would leave her … she felt her world close in on her, drowning her …

“It is a bit of a shock, I know,” came a calm voice over her shoulder.

She drew in a long breath, not turning to face Galeron, not wanting him to see how much the grill had affected her. She fought to keep her voice as steady as she could. “Yes, I had not expected changes so soon,” she agreed.

Galeron came quickly around to her side, his eyes sharp. “You sound awful,” he commented, looking down at her. “What is it?”

Kay looked down, her mind racing. She could not allow him to be suspicious. There had to be a way to salvage the situation, if only she could think. But her mind was fuzzy, exhausted …

“I think I need some food,” she admitted truthfully. “Between my leg wound, and the events -”

“Of course!” agreed Galeron, his gaze gentling. “I should have realized that myself. I apologize. Here, come to the pantry. A meal is exactly what you need.”

He took her arm and escorted her around the corner through the workroom. Kay’s heart dropped even further. A similar metal grill was now on the pantry door as well, sealed with a solid lock.

Galeron followed her gaze and smiled. “My dear, while you might be trusting of your staff, you will find I take a much more pragmatic view on things.” He pulled a heavy key from a pouch on his belt, fitting it into the keyhole. “This key unlocks both gates. If ever you need access to either room, feel free to ask me. I will be glad to come escort you in and out of the pantry or cellar.”

He undid the lock, pulling open the grill and then the wooden door behind it. Together they moved into the pantry. The small room was lined with wall to ceiling shelves, filled with a variety of breads, cheeses, dried meats, and fruits.

Kay’s mind was a whirl of confusion. The cellar door was locked. She could hardly ask Galeron to open it for her, to wait patiently while Reese and the others bludgeoned their way through the wall to free the keep from the hostile invaders.

Everything hinged on that key.

“Could I see the key?” she asked, her voice fragrant with curiosity. Just what was this nemesis which now confronted her?

Galeron shrugged, handing over the metal object. It was perhaps four inches in length, constructed of a solid shaft with a fairly basic pattern at one end. She stared at it in fascination. Such a simple thing to thwart the saviors from entering. Why, it was something a child could carve.

A flash of hope shot through her. Stephen could certainly carve a key like this, if only he had a model to work from. It only had to work once, after all. If he made it with the hardest wood he had available, and she greased it to turn carefully, it might just succeed.

It was the only chance she had.

But how could she make a mold of it?

She glanced around the room again, and her eyes lit on the blocks of cheese. Not the aged cheddar – that would crumble and lose the impression. The newest blocks would be gooey, unable to hold a form. But … there! She moved over to a rich yellow form and sunk a finger into it. The hole she made stayed perfectly in shape, conforming to her finger’s size.

She turned with a quick movement, putting her back to the cheese, her mind seeking for something to distract Galeron with. He would sense if she began babbling idle chatter; it had to be authentic.

A thought blazed in her mind, and she looked up with curiosity.

“Galeron, now that you have won the game, I am intrigued – just how did you manage to get the other men eliminated? It seemed in each case that you had a hand in the results.”

Galeron’s face lit up in delight, and he leant against one of the side walls. “My dear, you almost match me in your powers of observation,” he praised her. “Yes, of course I developed a detailed plan for each man the moment the game began. I carefully charted a path to ensure that they would fall one by one.”

Kay slid the key around behind her with one hand, seeking with her fingers for the cheese. There, it was just behind her now. She pressed the key with careful attention down into its firm top, giving even pressure to make a good impression.

Kay gave him a smile. “So, Uther, the flamboyant peacock. I recall that you encouraged me to sit next to him. Was that so I could see his true nature?”

Galeron chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, my darling, I did more than that,” he admitted with glee. “I scoffed at his stories of conquests in London. I stated in no uncertain terms that I did not believe him. On the ride here I challenged him to bed even three women in the keep within three days, to prove he was the great lover he claimed to be. I knew his pride would not allow him to refuse.”

Kay’s eyes widened. So it was Galeron’s doings that Uther was so aggressive in those opening days!

She was becoming fascinated with Galeron’s machinations. “And Alistair? Was he even a threat, with his tenuous nature?”

Galeron smiled with delight. “Alistair was not tenuous at all when we met at Lord Weston’s keep. I found him intelligent and immensely well read. However, he quickly became almost paralyzed with horror when I regaled him with countless tales of the sickness which infected Serenor. He was soon convinced that, if he got even the slightest scratch, that the disease here would kill him off – after a horribly slow, lingering illness, of course. He became petrified that even the slightest nick could be his last.”

Kay shook her head. Galeron’s work had certainly been thorough. She wondered what impressions she might have had of the men if she had met them untainted, before Galeron’s lies had done their work.

She tested the cheese mold with her fingers. The edges of the first impression seemed well defined and firm. Carefully she rolled the key over and pressed the opposite side into the unmarked area of the cheese block.

“Jack had almost been in the running,” she commented with interest. “Until that day at the village.”

Galeron nodded. “He might have remained, had I not warned him about Keren-happuch’s hatred of weak men,” he agreed. “I told Jack that Keren despised her father’s mamby-pamby ways with the servants, reviled how cosseted the villagers were. I explained to Jack that she was seeking a real man, a man of firm action and determination.”

“Of course you did,” responded Kay, seeing the events of the past days in a new light. “Although, to be fair, it seems in each case you simply emphasized a defect which already existed. The men went along with your suggestions, considering them natural.”

A band constricted her heart, and she had to take in a breath before she asked her next question. “And Reese?”

Galeron rolled off the wall and took a step toward her with a smile. She froze, withdrawing the key from the cheese immediately, wrapping it in the fabric of the back of her dress, trying with only minimal movements to wipe any cheese remnants off the key.

“Ah, my dear,” grinned Galeron, running a hand down her cheek. “It seemed clear to me, from the very first day, that Reese was drawn to you, the maid. He was the most straightforward of all, but also the man to be played most delicately. I simply had to encourage his affections and the main prize would remain mine.” His smile grew. “Of course, I did not realize at the time that I was undoing my own game, but in the end things have worked out just the way I had planned.”

Kay’s heart thundered in her chest. Reese had cared for her from the start? It was his love for her that had caused him the indecision about marrying the woman behind the curtain? She had not had time to process any of this, to put thoughts to actions and to sort out what had happened. The pieces all fell into place, and a warm glow suffused her, filling every nook and cranny of her being.

Reese loved her.

Suddenly Galeron’s presence felt stifling, and she needed to get out, to get free. She smiled apologetically, handing him back the key, then reaching behind her to take the cheese.

“I apologize, Galeron, I still am feeling unwell. Maybe if I go eat this in the courtyard, it will help to refresh me.” She drew the cheese close to her chest, holding the impression side inward. “I appreciate you opening the pantry for me. I am sure you have far more important tasks to take up your time right now.”

He smiled down at her, escorting her from the room. Once they were both out, he securely closed the wooden door, then drew shut the heavy metal grill, locking it back into place.

“I do have a number of tasks to look over,” he agreed, reaching down to tap on the bag which held his codex. “A plethora of items need to be checked off my list before tomorrow. Will you be all right?”

Kay nodded. “It is just a short walk to the courtyard, I will be fine. Thank you again.”

Galeron bowed, then headed off into the barracks. Kay took a long breath, pressing the cheese to her chest, her heart thudding. There was still hope. She had to cling to the faintest of chances that this might somehow work.

She waited another moment, then moved with steady steps across the ground floor, through the nearly empty barracks, out into the open courtyard.

Her heart sank. A line of soldiers manned the top of the wall, ready with bows and crossbows. The drawbridge was up, and the new boards of the replacement gate were nearly in place. Men scurried around the area, dragging supplies, lining up weapons. If her forces had to come in this way, they would face quite a challenge. It would be a hard fought battle if they tried today – and come tomorrow, with the mercenaries added to the defenses, it would be nigh impossible.

She moved with determination toward the stables. She would see that it did not come to that end.

Stephen met her almost immediately as she moved into the quiet building. “I am sorry, Kay,” he apologized, “but I am under strict orders not to let any horses out for the next few days.”

She nodded in agreement, drawing him to the very back of the wooden building. There was nobody else in the stables, but even so she crouched down with him against the rear wall.

“Stephen, can you carve me this key?” she asked simply, holding out the block of cheese.

Stephen tilted his head in curiosity, then took the block, examining the mold with careful attention. He ran his finger down one of the indentations, testing the firmness of the side.

“What type of a lock is it?” he asked, his attention focused on the cheese.

“A metal one, about four inches in diameter.”

“So it would be a metal key,” he nodded to himself. “The replica would need to be a hard wood, then, to move the tumblers.” He glanced up at the shelf behind him, reaching up with one hand and sorting through a few pieces of wood before bringing down a small bar shape. “Here, rock maple,” he mused. “I think I could carve a key from this block that might work. It would only be good for one or two uses, though,” he added. “The twisting strain on the key would do it in after that.”

Relief washed through her. There was hope. “Thank God,” she breathed out.

“When do you need it by?” asked Stephen, holding the wood block against the cheese, examining how the shapes overlay.

“Tonight, after dark.”

Stephen’s head jerked up, his eyes round with shock. “You must be joking,” he coughed out.

Kay’s heart stopped. The blood drained from her face. “It has to be,” she insisted, not willing to believe that she had come so far, only to hit another wall. “There is no other way. The mercenaries will be here tomorrow morning.”

Stephen stared again at the block of wood. “If I do it with softer wood, the key will never turn,” he insisted. “But to carve through this stuff in only one afternoon, and to get the shape you need to fit into the lock?”

Kay lay both of her hands on his. “It has got to work, Stephen,” she pressed. “How can I help? Is there anything I can do?”

Stephen glanced around him. “Perhaps if the stable chores could somehow be done for me, so that the soldiers did not realize I was up to something suspicious -”

“Done!” vowed Kay with relief. “I can do every chore in here, and anything else you need as well. It will keep me occupied, and give you every spare moment to get that key carved.”

Stephen did not waste another moment. He took a final glance at the key mold, scratched a length indicator on the block of wood, then sat down against the back wall. Pulling out his knife, he began whittling with furious intensity.

Kay strode toward the first stall and grabbed the pitchfork. This stable would shine when she was done. The soldiers would have no cause to question Stephen or to intrude on their activities of the afternoon.

 

* * *

 

The sun was beginning to set when Kay heard footsteps approaching the stables. She waved desperately for Stephen to hide his supplies. He had just tucked them beneath a feed bag when Galeron pushed open the main doors, his head swiveling around the interior.

“There you are,” he called out to Kay. “I did not think to look for you in here.”

“I do love my horses, after all,” replied Kay, infusing her voice with calm contentment. “I wanted to make sure they were taking their temporary confinement well.”

“You are a good mistress,” praised Galeron with a smile. “In any case, dinner is being served.”

“Of course, thank you,” she responded, glancing at Stephen, her shoulders tight. She knew the key was in a roughly appropriate shape, but still needed carving and finishing to reach the exact right dimensions. Could she sneak out to the stables in the evening without being detected, in order to retrieve the final result? She would have to risk it.

She nodded at the young lad, then moved with Galeron across the courtyard and into the main hall. The room felt so different to her now, the tables filled with strange MacDougal soldiers, the staff tense and on edge. She moved along to the head table, holding back a shudder as Galeron settled himself with contentment into the main chair at its center.

Then Anne was at her side, helping her to sit, pouring her out a large tankard of ale. “I heard you stayed for us, Kay,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “You are the most noble mistress we could ever hope to have.”

Kay put her hand on Anne’s arm, giving the woman a gentle squeeze. “You all deserve the very best,” she vowed. “I will see that you are taken care of and treated fairly.”

“And we will look out for you,” returned Anne, blushing, then moving on to continue serving the rest of the table.

The food was brought out – a plain stew with only a few chunks of meat in it. Kay’s mouth quirked into a smile. The staff was showing their disapproval of the new masters.

She heard a snarl from Galeron’s other side, and looked up sharply. Jack was staring down at his food, a frown growing.

“They call this a meal?”

Kay winced. While she understood completely the feelings of the staff, she also had to keep them safe for the next day, free from the ire of the current occupiers.

She leant forward. “Galeron, Jack, where do you plan on sleeping tonight?”

Two pairs of eyes swiveled to her with bright interest. Galeron spoke first, his voice rich with curiosity.

“We had planned to stay in the barracks. We would give you some time to settle in to this new situation and grow accustomed to how things will now run.”

Kay shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for the two best fighters in the keep to be immediately adjacent to the invasion point. “I think I see the issue here, with the servants,” she explained, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “By tradition, the master always sleeps in the master’s room. It is what they expect. Because you are staying in the barracks, they are treating you as soldiers. Once you start living as the master, they will start behaving as if you were.”

Jack glanced down at the food again, and then back at her. “Is it really that simple?” he asked askance.

Kay shrugged innocently. “They are simple servants, after all,” she pointed out.

Jack nodded. “That does make sense,” he stated, his shoulders relaxing. “Dogs in a pack fall into line once they know who the leader is.” He grunted as Jessica moved past him, stopping to fill his ale mug up to the brim again. “The minions are well trained in general,” he conceded. “All right, then, we will try it your way.”

“You will not be disappointed,” promised Kay, hoping against hope that she would not have to find out.

 

* * *

 

The courses of the meal came and went. Soon Jack and Galeron were off to see to the final updates to the keep’s defenses. Kay moved to sit in front of the fireplace, a mending project for Molly lying neglected in her lap. Bands of iron slowly tightened around her entire body.

Darkness had settled across the room, and the flickering fire cast dancing shadows across her body. Reese and the others would be moving down into the cave complex, working by torchlight, seeking out whatever series of tunnels led to end at the stone wall of the cellar. Tension ratcheted even tighter around her chest. There were hundreds of tunnels! What were the chances of them finding the right one?

She drew in a long, shuddering breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She had to be strong. They would find the right tunnel, somehow. When they did, she would be ready for them.

She worked with half-hearted interest on the mending, watching the minutes tick by. The room had only three soldiers in it, then two, then it was only her and the softly licking flames of the ebbing fire. The men were either manning the walls or sound asleep below, preparing for the morning.

She looked again into the glowing embers. What time was it now? Nine? Ten? Was it safe to try to sneak out to the stables?

There was a movement in the entryway, and Stephen was there, smiling at her. Relief washed over her, releasing away her tension. He nodded, then came over to stand beside her.

“I thought you might like to know, Kay, that the horses are all bedded down for the night,” he offered quietly, his hand hanging loosely at his side. “You have no need to worry about tonight. Everything is prepared.”

“That is very sweet of you, Stephen, to let me know,” she responded, her eyes glowing in heartfelt thanks. “You have set my mind at ease.”

He gave a small movement of his hand, and a dark object slipped from his grasp into the folds of her dress. She drew her legs together, catching the item in the fabric.

“I will be heading to bed then, M’Lady. Good night.”

“Good night, and thank you,” she returned, imbuing the words with every ounce of meaning that she could.

He bowed, and headed back toward the stairs, down toward his quarters.

Kay took in a long, deep breath, waiting long moments to ensure nobody else was around. Then she surreptitiously slipped her hand into the folds of fabric, to wrap them around the wooden key. It felt firm, defined, and durable.

She carefully tucked the mending into a corner of the chair. If she was caught prowling around later, she could simply say she was looking to find it. It would provide the perfect excuse.

In a moment she was in motion. She had just reached the entryway when Galeron came up from the courtyard. He smiled when he saw her, offering a short bow.

“Heading up to bed, my dear?” he asked with a gentle smile. “Let me accompany you, since we are now sharing a suite.”

“Of course,” agreed Kay, her throat tight. She wrapped her fingers around the key, hiding it from view, and allowed him to guide her up the stairs and into the solar.

Jack was already there, sprawled on the sofa, finishing off a tankard of ale. He rolled to his feet when Galeron and Kay entered the room.

Jack’s voice was a sour grumble. “So, I am to get the smaller, middle bedroom, I assume.”

Kay nodded. “These are the nicest rooms in the keep,” she pointed out, keeping her voice even. “Far better than the barracks below. I am sure they will do for now.”

Galeron frowned at Jack for a moment, then looked back to Kay. “They will do just fine,” he assured her. “I am sure we could not ask for anything better.”

Jack looked as if he might disagree with that statement, but he held his tongue.

Kay dropped a curtsy. “Good night, then,” she murmured, then retreated to the safety of her room. She closed the solid door behind her, dropping the bar. Once safely locked within, she hurried to the fireplace to drop down beside it, to draw out the key and examine it closely.

Stephen had done an excellent job in the time he had available. It looked exactly as she had remembered the metal key. He had polished it to a smooth finish to give it the best chance of sliding the tumblers without a catch. It felt firm in her hand.

It had to work.

She went to the window, staring out at the rolling ocean waves. From her room she could not see the front of the keep, not see her father’s forces encamped there. The cliffs blocked her view of the beach, so she could not tell if soldiers were in motion there either, making any progress on the maze of caves.

She wrapped her fingers around the key. She had to hope that the plan was a success.

The world outside wavered for a moment, the ocean waves melding into a long ripple of grey. She shook her head, moving away from the window and sitting down on the bed. She was simply exhausted. If only she could but sleep, even for a few hours.

She knew she could not. What if she closed her eyes and awoke only in the full brightness of sun, the mercenaries already safely within the castle walls, all hope lost? No, she had to make it through the night, had to do her part in ensuring the attack succeeded.

A loud snoring noise suddenly boomed from her sister’s bedroom. She started in surprise, then relaxed, almost laughing. It always astounded her how quickly soldiers could fall asleep when they needed to. They knew how to conserve their strength, how to grab a hold of any moment available to be fresh for a fight. Apparently Jack had learned that trick. Which only left …

She listened closely to the sounds around her. Were there snoring sounds coming from her father’s room as well? She had to take the chance. It was perhaps almost eleven by now, and she had to get to the cellars. She had to hope that neither man would risk her ire by intruding on her bedroom before dawn.

Just to be safe, she placed several pillows beneath her blankets and arranged them in the shape of a sleeping person. Then, slowly, carefully, she drew out the bar from the door, laying it to one side. She gently pulled the wooden door open, peering around the edge. If one of the men were still awake, she could simply say she was looking for the mending items to keep her occupied.

The room was empty. Both other bedroom doors were solidly closed. There was no sound other than the snoring which seemed to grow louder as she waited.

She slipped through her doorway, drawing the door gently closed behind her. She worked her way across the room, the precious key clutched in her hand, and reached the main door. She drew in a deep breath.

She carefully eased the door open, and smiled. The hallway was empty. Apparently Galeron and Jack were conserving all of their troops’ strength for the morning, the most likely time of an attack, if there were to be one. They were not wasting one man on unnecessary duties. To her benefit.

She moved into the hall, closing the door behind her, and moved slowly down the stairs. The main hall was deserted. She barely stopped before continuing down toward the barracks level.

She drew herself up as she reached the ground floor. It seemed that the vast majority of Galeron’s forces were sprawled on a bed or mat in various stages of sleep. One or two sat hunched over a blade, sharpening an edge. They glanced up in idle curiosity as she stepped into the room, but dismissed her and went back to their work. She was not stopped or questioned as she moved across the room toward the workroom.

She turned the corner and took in a deep breath. She had made it through the barracks without incident – but now the final test stood before her. If she could not get this lock open, all else would be lost. The gate loomed before her, solid, black, and sturdily sealed. Would the wooden key turn the tumblers?

She glanced into the workroom and spotted a block of soap standing by the wash basin on a counter. She moved over to it, glancing again around the empty room, then drew the key from her hand. She rubbed it carefully along the bar, first one side, then the other.

When she was satisfied with the task, she moved again to the lock, giving a final look around to be sure no guards were moving in her direction. Carefully she inserted the key into the keyhole, and slowly, oh so slowly, she turned it.

She felt the resistance of the tumblers, and her heart thudded in her chest. She applied more pressure, praying that Stephen had chosen a solid piece of wood, that he had followed the mold accurately, that she had pressed the key into the cheese in an even fashion. A thousand little things could go wrong, to cause the parts of the key not to exactly match the inside of the iron lock.