 Inevitably the climb down was far easier than the climb up. Tristan had lingered on the windowsill until his grandfather was half way down the pipe and then he had followed. His hands and arms had done the majority of the work on the upwards journey but on the way down he used his feet to steady his pace before jumping free at the bottom. He landed nimbly beside Mallos and dusted his hands again. Celidon gave his fairy a pointed nudge with his head to tell him off for doing something so dangerous. Hodain and Cafall on the other hand looked up and hurtled towards him with excited barks. Tristan shushed them urgently (which was hard when he couldn’t speak dog any more) and allowed them to lick his face as he knelt down to scratch them behind the ears.
Mallos spoke and Tristan lifted his chin to look at him. It was his first opportunity to properly study his grandfather’s appearance. He looked different. He was a thinner and a little less muscular so his tailored shirts fit a little loosely. Tristan knew how that felt; after he had recovered from his fever in the wake of the pirate kidnapping he had been seriously out of condition too. It had taken time and a great deal of work to get himself fit again. He could empathise. There were also shadows under Mallos’ eyes and the bone structure of his face was more emphasised than Tristan remembered. He might look a little drawn, the prince decided, but otherwise he seemed healthy enough.
“I thought of that already,” grinned Tristan as he climbed back to his feet, “Father will be pleased, I’m planning ahead for once.” The boy’s eyes shone; “There are horses and supplies waiting in the thicket, I stashed them there when everyone was running around muttering about your window bars earlier.” Tristan threw Mallos a curious look before continuing, “all we have to do is get to them.”
It was going to be easier said than done. Both he and Mallos were recognisable and Celidon was even easier to spot.
“The door guards are easy to avoid if we stay on this side of the castle,” Tristan said thoughtfully, “then it’s just the grounds patrol and the guards on the outer wall.” He turned to face his familiar.
“It’s probably easier if you find your own way Cel, you know where to meet us.” The cu-sith often wandered the grounds without his fairy so the guards shouldn’t think it unusual even if they spotted him and it gave Tris and Mallos one less thing to worry about.
“I suggest we go through Grandmother’s vegetable garden,” mused Tristan out-loud, “there’s a gap in the shrubbery at the bottom which will get us to the wall.” He glanced to his grandfather for agreement before gesturing for the dogs to heel and leading the way across the grass.
They were tiptoeing through the cabbage patch when a guard spotted them from an upper window. Tristan cursed under his breath; what were the chances that someone would be walking down that particular corridor at that particular moment and just happened to glance out of the window? Grinning, Tristan turned round to face Mallos and said one word, “run.” He took off, dodging around the cabbages and jumping over an impressively large pumpkin. The dogs, who had apparently used this particular escape route many times before, were the first to squeeze through the gap in the evergreen shrubs. Tristan dived after them; the gap was a bit tighter across the shoulders than he remembered and some branches poked him uncomfortably in the ribs as the sound of boots running over grass behind him grew steadily louder.
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