Charles peered into the carriage. The dim lantern light inside revealed a young woman with brown hair, large gray eyes, and slightly pink, full lips.
"Who are you?" he asked weakly, trying to stand straight despite his trembling legs from exhaustion.
"Elinor," the young woman answered. "Brigadier Miranda sent me to help you."
Charles remained still, unsure whether to trust her. "How do I know what you're saying is true?"
She sighed. "Listen, we don't have much time. The City Guard is closing in. You need to come with me now."
The sound of numerous footsteps grew closer, along with torchlight that grew increasingly bright from the end of the street.
"No time left," Elinor urged.
The torchlight grew brighter with each moment, soldiers' shadows stretching along the wall. Charles made an instant decision. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he struggled to climb into the carriage.
Elinor quickly extended her hand to help, pulling him up. The pain from his fingertips nearly made the young man cry out before she knocked twice on the carriage wall, signaling the driver to depart.
The carriage moved the moment Charles collapsed onto the seat, spreading his fingers apart to brace against the pain.
Elinor noticed his fingers, seeing the torn wounds and blood flowing from between them. She looked at her own hand that had pulled him into the carriage, noticing the bloodstains.
"I didn't know your nails had been pulled out," she said. "I'm sorry."
Charles didn't answer, continuing to clench his teeth as he tensed his fingers until the pain began to subside.
"Did she really send you to help me?" he looked at the woman before him.
"Yes."
"How did she know where I was?"
"She didn't," Elinor shook her head. "So she had us search everywhere. I was lucky to find you."
"I see," he said, supporting himself to sit up, looking out the window. Torchlight and soldiers' shadows filled the streets. Raindrops began falling on the window, causing some officers to prepare lanterns to replace their torches.
"Where are we going?" he asked curiously.
"First, we need to escape the capital, then conceal your identity before planning our next move."
By now, the light outside had completely changed from torches to lanterns. Some officers had begun putting on rain cloaks.
"Judging by how busy the City Guard is, I assume all city gates are closed... how will we escape?"
"There's one place that probably hasn't been closed yet," Elinor interjected.
"Where?" Charles turned his gaze back to her.
"Old Town, the smuggling route."
Charles nodded, thinking it made sense. Officials were reluctant to enter that area, so news might travel slowly there, meaning security might not yet be tightened.
The sound of rain continuously hit the carriage roof. "There's something I still don't understand," Charles spoke after a moment of silence. "Why must I flee? Why not let me stay and prove my innocence?"
Elinor sighed softly. "Brigadier Miranda anticipated you'd ask this question. She sent an explanation..."
"The people behind this... analyzing how they could interfere with prison officials, they must have considerable power."
"Meaning...?" Charles frowned.
"If you remained in prison, they would have to keep you in custody according to regulations, and during that time... you would be eliminated to silence you. Not even Edward or Brigadier Miranda could help."
"But they have power, they should be able to..."
"That's precisely the problem," Elinor interrupted. "If they tried to help you escape, it would constitute abuse of power, giving their opponents grounds to attack the Cavendish family."
Charles fell silent in thought as rain continued flowing down the carriage window.
"Edward and Miranda have the accomplishments and status to protect themselves," Elinor continued explaining. "But you don't have enough power to fight them, and if you stayed... they weren't certain they could protect you indefinitely."
"That's why Joseph told me to flee. And once I escaped prison, I would inevitably be branded a criminal."
"Exactly," Elinor nodded. "It severs the connection between you and the Cavendish family, removes the charge of conspiracy to murder the Treasury Head, eliminates accusations of contact with foreign spies, and allows you to be branded a criminal. This gives them freedom to investigate who's behind everything."
"And I'll be able to hunt down the real assassin who escaped..." Charles muttered, beginning to understand the whole picture.
Elinor nodded. "Yes, each side performing their own role. The Cavendish family will investigate who gave the orders, while you track down the one who carried them out."
"To avenge Joseph..." Charles clenched his fist. The pain from his nail-less fingers hardly mattered anymore compared to the rage burning in his chest.
The carriage continued through the darkness toward Old Town, while the rain kept falling.
"We need to get off here," Elinor whispered, knocking on the carriage wall to signal the driver. "The carriage can't go any further. We'll continue on foot."
The carriage stopped completely. Elinor got out first, looking cautiously in all directions before turning to help Charles down.
"Be careful," she whispered as she supported him down a narrow alley. "The ground is slippery."
They wound their way through gaps between buildings until they reached a particular structure.
"This way," she lit an oil lamp from her shoulder bag. "Careful, the stairs are quite steep."
They descended rotten wooden stairs. Charles had to grip the railing tightly, trying not to put too much weight on each step, fearing it might collapse.
Reaching the basement, they continued along a narrow tunnel dug beneath the city. The tunnel walls were made of earth and stone, with wooden supports placed at intervals. Water seeped from the ceiling, dripping onto the muddy floor.
They walked on, passing several junctions, sometimes stopping to hide when they heard footsteps from other tunnels. Conversations in foreign dialects drifted to them, likely smugglers.
"Almost at the exit," Elinor whispered after walking for about half an hour.
Suddenly, torchlight flooded in from a junction ahead, accompanied by the sound of several pairs of footsteps approaching.
"Hide!" Elinor quickly pulled Charles into a wall recess, immediately extinguishing her lamp.
A group of burly men walked past. Some carried sacks on their shoulders, others held swords and spears. They talked loudly in an accent Charles barely understood, though their tone sounded excited.
"What are they talking about?" Charles whispered when the group had moved far enough away.
"The escaped prisoner," Elinor answered. "News has spread very quickly. They're going to wait at the tunnel exit, hoping to capture you for a reward."
"Then we can't use that route anymore."
"There's another way," Elinor nodded. "But it's more dangerous... follow me."
She led him into another tunnel that appeared older and narrower. In some sections, they had to duck because of the low ceiling. Many wooden supports were so rotten they could barely hold any weight.
"Hardly anyone uses this route anymore," Elinor explained. "Because it's dangerous. The tunnel could collapse at any time."
She stopped at a point where the tunnel ceiling had collapsed, revealing an old sewer above.
"We need to climb up there," she pointed. "It will lead us outside the city."
Charles looked up, seeing stone steps attached to the sewer wall. Foul water flowed through the bottom of the pipe, emitting a strong stench.
"Is there no other way?" he asked, thinking of his nail-less fingers. Climbing in this condition would be extremely difficult.
"No," Elinor shook her head. "The others are all being watched by those men."
Charles sighed before nodding. "Very well then."
Elinor climbed up first, holding the lamp to guide the way. Charles followed slowly, gritting his teeth against the pain each time he pushed himself up.
They climbed higher and higher, passing several levels of sewers. Sometimes they had to walk along horizontal pipes, careful not to slip into the putrid water, until finally reaching an iron grate covering the end of the pipe.
"Almost there," Elinor said, pushing up the grate. "Outside is the forest beyond the city."
She climbed out first, then reached down to help pull Charles up. They emerged in a dense forest where heavy rain continued to fall and tall trees swayed in the wind.
"Follow me," Elinor hurried ahead. "There's a carriage waiting not far from here."
They walked through the rain along a muddy forest path until they reached a large tree with a carriage and driver waiting.
"From here on, there shouldn't be any problems. If all goes according to plan, we'll reach the border without being caught."
Charles nodded before getting into the carriage with Elinor's help. He sat down on the cushion, leaning back against the support. Now that he could relax from the tension, fatigue and wounds began to blur his consciousness.
'Wait,' he thought, remembering the assassin who had escaped. 'You will pay.'
...
At the northern gate of the capital, a man dragged his exhausted body through the rain, staring hopefully at the lights above the ramparts.
He stumbled and fell on the road not far from the gate, struggling to get up and walk, step by step, until he could clearly see the closed city gate through the thick curtain of rain.
"Stop right there!" the gate guard called out, gripping the sword at his waist.
"Help me," the man said, his hoarse voice mixing with the sound of rain.
"What?" The heavy raindrops pounding the ground almost completely drowned out the man's voice, making it difficult for the guard to hear.
The gate guard cautiously approached, his grip tightening on his sword hilt.
"State your name immediately!"
"Michael... Michael Berg," the faint voice escaped his lips before he collapsed unconscious.