Free The Way Into Darkness: Book Three of The Great Way by Harry Connolly Page B

luck, Tejohn would not linger long enough to learn his name--took the lead once Tejohn explained where they needed to go.  
    The sun had disappeared behind the peaks by the time they burst through a heavy wooden door and sprinted up a flight of wooden steps. The crosscurrents of the winds out of the Sweeps almost blew out their torch.  
    The troops stamped up the stairs and came out onto the broad flat roof of the holdfast. Tejohn’s abused knees felt as though they were on fire when he topped the stairs, but he didn’t slow down.  
    There, in the wind and darkness, was the flying cart that Doctor Twofin had dumped him out of so many days ago. There were three men standing guard over it. Of the scholar there was no sign.
    “Stop where you are!” one of the guards shouted at them. “This part of the holdfast is off limits to everyone but the Twofin family.”
    The man Lowtower had put in charge kept his point high as he stepped forward. “Jarel, things are changing quickly. The things we’ve discovered--”
    “We have our orders,” Jarel said.  
    The tallest guard said, “What have you discovered?”  
    “Horrors out of a children’s story. It sounds unbelievable but it’s true. The tyr’s brother has been creating monsters for him, right here in our own holdfast, not one level below the barracks.”
    “We were warned,” Jarel answered, his spear point still low. “We were warned that people would start spreading stories to discredit the tyr, but I never thought it would have come from you.”
    “It’s not gossip,” the soldier answered. “It’s not a cradle tale. Terrible things have been happening right under our noses--”  
    “We were warned--”
    “Who?” Tejohn broke in. “Who warned you?”  
    He immediately realized he’d made a mistake. As though noticing him for the first time, Jarel bared his teeth and shouted, “Assassin!”
    The lead soldier sidestepped to move between Jarel and Tejohn. “We’ve known each other since we were old enough to piss in pots--”
    “And now you break your oaths to protect a murderer!”  
    Jarel thrust his spear into his friend’s belly.  
    Whether it was the soldier’s last-moment evasion or that Jarel didn’t have his heart in it, the iron tip caught the man in the side and did not go very deep.  
    The tall guard cried, “What are you doing?” and yanked the weapon back. The other soldiers rushed forward and knocked Jarel to the deck. One of the men raised his spear.
    “Don’t kill him!” Tejohn shouted, his voice carrying above the general roar. The upraised spear never struck. He rushed to the fallen soldier and knelt beside him. “This doesn’t look too bad. What’s your name, soldier?”  
    “Jarel, my tyr. Just like him. Please show him mercy. He’s a good soldier.”
    “Fair counsel,” Tejohn said. “Your people are going to need good soldiers very soon.” He looked up at the nearest three men. “Get him to a sleepstone. He isn’t bad but I don’t want him to wait.”
    “Yes, my tyr.” They began to gather him up.  
    Tejohn looked at the guard lying on the platform. The man’s expression was hunted and his gritted teeth were bared. “And you, Jarel-the-guard, your friend just pleaded for your life. Can you--”  
    Before Tejohn could finish, Jarel burst into tears. “What have I done?” the man said. “He’s closer to me than my own brother!”
    “You put your faith in the wrong person,” Tejohn said. “Can you be trusted to help save his life?”  
    “I can. I want to help.” One of the soldiers shoved him. “...my tyr,” he added quickly.  
    “Then get over here and help carry him, and tell me who warned you we would be spreading lies.”
    The guard clearly did not want to answer. “Tell him,” the injured man said.  
    “One of the whisperers.”
    Fire and Fury. Tejohn should have recognized the danger they represented immediately. He turned to the spears around him. There were six. “I’d