"Here is your helmet. I will lead you to the stable, where I
have saddled the best and fastest of my master's horses. You must
remain there quietly until you deem that the gates are open, then
leap upon the horse, and ride for your life. Few will know you,
and you will probably pass out of the gate unquestioned. If not,
you have your sword to cut your way. Once beyond the town ride
to meet the duke. Tell him my master has been murdered, that Egra
is in the hands of the Imperialists, and that Saxe-Lauenburg is a
prisoner. Bid him march on this place with his force, take it by
assault, and leave not one of the assassins of my lord living within
its walls."
"You will run no risk, I hope, for your share in this adventure,"
Malcolm said.
"It matters little to me," the old man replied. "My life is
worthless, and I would gladly die in the thought that I have brought
retribution on the head of the murderers of my master. But they
will not suspect me. I shall lock the door behind us, and place
the key again in the girdle of the drunken guard, and then return
to my own chamber."
Quietly Malcolm and his conductor made their way through the castle
and out into the courtyard. Then they entered the stables.
"This is the horse," the steward said, again uncovering his lantern.
"Is he not a splendid animal? He was my master's favourite, and
sooner than that his murderers should ride him I would cut the throat
of the noble beast with my dagger; but he has a better mission in
carrying the avenger of his master's blood.
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