The dungeon door slowly opened. Ayla saw Hans look up from where he sat, chained to the wall. His face turned grim as she, Burchard, and Reuben entered the gloomy stone cell. Yet this expression was replaced by one of utter astonishment when his wife, Madalena, followed them into the room.
“God's teeth!” he exclaimed. “Madalena, what are you doing here?”
The woman had been staring at the floor, hiding her tear-streaked face. At the sound of his voice, she looked up, and Ayla had to look away from the multitude of emotions that collided on her face as she saw her husband in chains.
She rushed to him and threw her arms around him.
“What am I doing here? I should be asking you that!” She whimpered into his neck. “What in God's name were you thinking? Hans, what were you thinking?”
“I was trying to protect you. I was trying to protect you and the girls.”
Reuben snorted. “Really great protecting you did there, you pock-marked maggot-pie.”
Ayla closed her eyes. “Would you please try and control your foul tongue,” she hissed into his ear. “It is important that everything goes smoothly!”
“I know. It is my plan, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. I also remember that we need his cooperation to make it work.”
“It doesn't have to be willing cooperation, though. And, by the way, my tongue isn't foul. You can check what it tastes like whenever you want. I wouldn't mind.”
“Are you two quite finished?” Burchard interrupted them, and Ayla felt a blush steal onto her face.
“Well, um…yes.” Turning to Hans, she tried to assume a grave expression. “Hans, we have something to tell you.”
The traitorous guard swallowed. Beads of sweat were running down his face, although the air in the dungeon was ice-cold.
“It's my execution, isn't it?” His voice was hoarse, but steady. “Well…I thank you, Milady, that you have brought my wife to me so I can say farewell.”
“No.” Ayla shook her head. “I'm not talking about your execution. Actually, I'm talking about a way for you to win your life and your freedom.”
Hans’s head, which had sunken down onto his chest, jerked up, and he stared into Ayla's eyes, disbelief written on his face in bold, capital letters. When in Ayla's face he discovered nothing but absolute earnestness, he turned to Burchard, who nodded and scowled.
“No need to look so disbelieving. Personally, I would be content to let you rot in here for the rest of eternity or, better yet, have your head chopped off at sunset. But this one—” he shot Reuben an angry glare, “has come up with a 'plan' that requires your cooperation.”
“But…but I don't understand,” Hans stuttered. “What good would that do me, or my family? It may save my life for a couple of days, or weeks, if I do whatever it is you want me to do, but in the end, it won't matter. The castle will fall, and I will be killed, along with the other common soldiers.”
He looked sideways at his wife, and Ayla could see how startled he was when he saw that she didn't look very distraught at his words. But he didn't know yet what Madalena knew. The wife and Ayla shared a look.
“Tell him, Milady, please.”
Ayla nodded reassuringly at the woman. She had been through enough already.
“You're wrong, Hans,” she said, turning back to the guard. “There is a way to save the castle. This man,” she pointed at Reuben and couldn't help but let a hint of pride creep into her voice, “this valiant knight, who has fought on more battlefields than you can count, has devised a way for us to escape doom and defeat.”
Hans’s eyes were big and round, and they glinted. At first, Ayla thought it was with hope that his eyes shone, but then she realized they were full of tears.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “Forgive me, Milady, for ever doubting you. I should have remembered that you are your father's daughter. I should have known you would find a way.”
“Hey!” Reuben growled. “It was me who came up with the plan, remember?”
Everybody ignored him.
“Please, Milady.” Hans crouched at Ayla's feet, his eyes downcast. “Please, forgive me, Milady? Can you forgive me?”
“The means to forgiveness is in your own hands, soldier,” Ayla replied gently. “The plan we have requires your help.”
“What? How?” He gripped her hands. “How can I redeem myself, Milady? Tell me!”
“Well…” Ayla hesitated. “This may sound a tiny bit strange…”
“Tell me! I'll do it! Even if I have to fight the commander of the enemy army myself!”
“Well…no, that's not it. We would like you to signal the enemy and let them into the castle at night, just as you originally planned to.”
Hans’s hands let go of Ayla's and fell down limply into his lap.
“W-what? Milady?”
If the situation hadn't been so serious, the expression on the guard's face would have made Ayla laugh. He looked like a student who had just been praised by a teacher for setting fire to the library.
“I…I don't understand,” he finally said.
“Trust me, I don't either, entirely, and that's in spite of having the whole plan explained to me more than once.” She nodded to Reuben. “It's a completely mad plan. So mad that it might actually work.”
There was a pause. Hans’s eyes went from Ayla, to Reuben, and then to Burchard.
“And you are not just playing with me? I mean, you're not just sending me out to the enemy, and I will find the gates closed when I return? With my help, we really have a chance to get out of this alive? My family has a chance to live and not to be dishonored?”
“Yes.”
“Your word on it!”
“You have it,” Reuben said solemnly.
“I don't want your word, Sir Mad Butcher! That's not worth a groat.”
Reuben raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Impressive. He knows me well.”
Ayla tried not to let that distract her.
“How about my word?” she asked. “Is that worth a groat?”
Hans bowed his head, and so did his wife beside him. There were tears in her eyes, but they weren't tears of distress any more. They were tears of happiness and gratitude.
“It is worth more than a thousand golden Thalers, Milady.”
“Very well, then. I give you my word that we have a plan. A plan which will not only let us escape the Margrave, but crush his army once and for all. If you help us, Hans, you will be reinstated among the castle guards, and nobody will ever know of your fall into this darkness.” She gestured at the dungeon. “And if you should die in the attempt to save us, and we still survive, your name shall be remembered and your wife and children will be under my personal protection. I swear it on Sir Isenbard's grave.”
She paused, looking deep into his eyes.
“So…will you help us?”
Hans looked at his wife. She bit her lip, then nodded. He looked back at Ayla.
“Yes. I'll do it. I just want to know one thing.”
“Which is?”
“All the enemy has wanted to do for weeks and weeks is to get into the castle to destroy us,” Hans said, his face set in grim lines. “How is getting them into the castle now possibly going to help us to defeat such a vast army? I can't see it. And I'm not risking everything until I do.”
Ayla looked at the other two. Should they tell him this? She wasn't sure it was a good idea. Reuben shook his head.
“No. We can’t tell you what the plan is. If you don't play your role of traitor convincingly enough and the enemy starts to torture you to be sure, you might give away everything.”
Or you might just give away everything in any case, just to save your miserable hide. He didn't say it, but Ayla could read it on his forehead as clearly as if the emperor's best scribe had written it there.
Hans met Reuben’s gaze without flinching. Which, considering the burning gray do-what-I-want-now-or-I'll-hamstring-you-and-gut-you-like-a-pig gaze Reuben was directing at him, was an astonishing feat, in Ayla's opinion.
“No,” he said, firmly. “If you want my help, you'll have to tell me.”
Again, she and the other two exchanged a look.
“All right,” she sighed. “But before that, I want your oath that you will not betray us to the enemy.”
“I swear. On Sir Isenbard's grave.”
Ayla was about to open her mouth when a red-clad hand shot past her and gripped Hans by the throat.
“This is one oath,” Reuben growled, “you had better not break. Understand?”
This time, Hans did flinch. Quite a lot, in fact. He also did some gagging, until Ayla gripped Reuben's arm.
“Let go of him. We need him!”
Reuben scowled. To his great disappointment, he apparently knew she was right.
He let go, and Hans collapsed on the stone floor beside his wife. She stared up at Reuben. Ayla believed that she would have been outraged if she hadn't been so busy being terrified.
Ayla waited until Hans had stopped coughing and gasping for breath. Finally, she asked, “Are you ready?”
He nodded. Not ready to speak, apparently. But ready to listen.
“Then listen to me closely,” she said. “This is what's going to happen…”