Robin Many Feathers

Chapter 9

Dick moved quietly down the dark, winding tunnel. The torch he had taken with him had guttered out several twists of the tunnel back. He moved easily, but cautiously. The Mask of Twilight would keep him going down the correct tunnel without tripping or stumbling, but it was still unnerving to be moving in complete darkness. He moved his hand to in front of his face, knowing that is was a mere inch from his nose and still couldn't see it. Yet he could feel the caverns and tunnels around him like a living entity. Slowly forming, changing, eroding and building. It welcomed Dick and would have shown him treasures and sights that would awe and take his breath away. But it seemed to understand his urgency, his need to find a living entity that was housed within it. The vein of sea-green quartz felt like a small stream of water, threading itself through dense dry lands, eddying, pooling, but always leading Dick forward to the object of his desire - Garth.

The quiet, the silence of the caverns, was making Dick hungry for the sounds of another human voice. The oppressiveness of the dark seemed to even muffle his footsteps and Dick found himself reluctant to make a sound. If Wally were there, conversation would be natural, an easy sound to fill the gaping void. But Wally was leading the Laughing King's men on a wild goose chase and Dick was forging on to find the king of Atlantan and rescue him. But the silence, the darkness, even the caverns themselves were bringing back painful memories of Dick's last sojourn through a cavern system underneath the mountains separating Atlantan from the Laughing Kingdom. The pain, anguish and humiliation he had been wracked with seemed to dance and tease around the edges of his consciousness. It would have been easy to give in to the depression that had been his closest friend at the time. A simple task of finding a grotto, curling up around his hurts and wounds and never moving again…

"No!" The word echoed back to him - strong, confident and full of determination. He would find Garth. He would not give in. The Laughing King would not win. Dick shook himself, realizing he had been moving forward in a fugue state without realizing that the tunnels were lighter now. A purple diffuse light was making the vein of quartz glitter in a sickening way. Richard hurried forward, hoping this was the cavern of the footholds and Garth was only minutes away.

The tunnel widened out into a cavern studded with glittering rocks and shiny stones. A smooth narrow trail traversed the cavern and headed into a tunnel on the far left side. Beside that opening, stood two indistinct figures. With his adrenaline surging, Richard moved towards the two figures stealthily, ready to attack and knock them out. As he moved closer, the figures seemed familiar and niggled at a memory in the back of his mind. The two figures resolved themselves into a man and a woman, both with midnight black hair. Neither was overly tall, the man barely topping five, eight. The woman just came to his shoulder. The sensation of familiarity was almost over powering. As they turned toward him, the attack the young prince was about to start turned into a stumble as he recognized the figures.

"Dad? Mom?"

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Slipping through the night, Lord Wayne navigated through the Atlantan castle and out into the bailey, one shadow amongst many. The area was alive with movement, but the colors were wrong. Awash in purple, green and red, the activity was almost frantic and not as organized as it could be. Some stood still, looking dazed and confused, while others seem to have an almost manic energy to them, shouting out orders and then countering them seconds later.

Drifting out of the shadows like a cloud of smoke, Lord Wayne struck one of the dazed men and drug him into an alcove. Looking closely at the unconscious man, he recognized him as one of the guards from the ballroom. What has caused a man, who Bruce Wayne last saw fighting savagely to protect a group of high born ladies, to turn coat and throw his lot in with a madman? Leaving the soldier in the corner, Wayne donned his tabard and moved through the shouting, chaotic swirls of men. Shifting through the crowd, recognizing many of the faces, Batman realized that most of the soldiers in the bailey are actually Atlantans. Nobles, servants, and gentry alike comprise the ranks wearing the purple and green. Some work like automatons, moving steadily through whatever task they have been assigned then standing still until they are given new orders. Others, standing bemused, are confused and stare at their surroundings as if puzzled to find themselves there and wondering where they should actually be. The last group, the ones shouting the orders were wearing tattered and soiled finery under their colors, their features coarse and bloated with greed and avarice. Yet even the actions and orders of these men were jerky and uncoordinated. As if their every movement and thought had been dictated and now they must think for themselves for the first time instead of blindly obeying.

Realizing that the main reason for the activity in the bailey was the fortification for a siege, a quirk of a grin appeared on the face of the Lord Marshall. Moving forward, the Lord Protector of Grayson began to sew chaos in the Laughing King's plans.

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Richard couldn't believe his eyes. He saw them, his mother's gentle smile, the look of bedevilment in his father's blue eyes, the same color as his own. Was he dreaming? Had he lost his sense of reality to the caverns and was now trapped in hallucinations?

A warm hand settled on his shoulder and he looked into the warm gaze of his father; comforting arms gathered him close. Richard hugged his mother close and wept.

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Roy moved quietly through the deserted hallways leading to the kitchens. One would have thought that the Laughing King would have wanted to feed his troops and keep them pacified with full stomachs and good wine. Roy could only shake his head. The hallways surrounding the kitchens and servants quarters were completely empty. His footfalls had echoed loudly to Roy's ears although he moved as quietly here as he did in the forest. Roy was taking, for him, a shortcut through the kitchens. He had been hoping to cage some food from some of the servers before heading out to his and his men's quarters. Lunch had been a long time ago and the events between then and now had been almost surreal. Roy still couldn't believe that the entire command staff of the army was gone. And now the kitchens were deserted. Where were the cooks? "Everybody's got to eat," Roy mumbled, "Even nutjobs."

The only light in the large, cluttered area emanated from the hearths and stoves, giving the room a soft glow, highlighting the preparations and activity that had been left suddenly. The hairs on the back of Roy's neck were raising. Something was truly not right. There was no reason for the cooking crew to have left in the middle of their duties.

Roy began moving around the kitchens, looking for any sign of the cooks and their helpers when he heard a noise near the back door that had been his original goal. Grabbing up two of the cleavers from the butchers block, Roy waited in the doorway of the scullery, just off from the back door, waiting quietly, Roy tensed as the door began to slowly creak open. He saw a shadow throwing itself into sharp relief on the kitchen floor. Roy's nerves went steady and cold, ready to remove another threat to the safety of his country.

A man's form moved stealthily through the door. Roy's arm went up with a flash and down in a steady stroke, as on target as any arrow from his bow with all the power that he could bring to bear.

*THWACK!!* "Shit!"

The man who had moved through the door whirled and blanched as he saw how close to death he had come. The cleaver was buried an inch deep into the cabinet near the man's head. "Connor! Don't do that!" The hissed words vibrated with anger and pent up frustration for the entire situation. Roy had almost beheaded his own nephew.

"Roy?" The younger man looked as his red-haired uncle, happy to see him, but concerned over the situation. "What's going on?"

Roy grabbed his nephew close and hugged him hard. Friendly faces and family faces were a good thing to see. "How many of the men do you have with you?" Roy turned Connor around and headed back out the door.

Connor was confused. "Two score, but what's going on? Why are the kitchens deserted? What's happened at the castle?"

Roy grabbed him around the shoulder and hustled him down the path. "I'll explain as we go. We need to gather your group and anyone in the quarters and head for the competition fields. We've got an army to stop."

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The three figures held on to one another tightly, unwilling to let go for even a moment. Finally, Richard looked up into his mother's warm eyes. "How can you be here? You died, so long ago. I watched them bury you before I went to the Laughing Lands. You're gone." Richard felt himself five again, trembling in the embrace of his parents as he waited for their answer.

"You needed us little one." A soft feminine hand brushed back the hair from his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. "Your hair has grown so long, you really should get it cut."

Richard blushed. "Mom…"

"Your mother's right Dick, You've been lost these last few months. You were floundering so badly that we had to come back. We had to help you." A smirk formed on the face of the former King of Haly. "I can't have my son ascend the throne in such a shoddy state!"

Richard flushed at the admonishment in his father's voice. "I wouldn't have gone back looking like this. I was keeping haly safe, I kept the Laughing King from coming into our home…"

Mother's arms tightened around his shoulders. "Now there's where your true mistake is my little one. He only meant to help and protect Haly and your actions have actually endangered the kingdom. We were so wrong to leave you at such a young age. You still need guidance and help." Two soft hands cupped Dick's chin raising his face to look into deep brown eyes, that held all of a mother's love for her son. "Dickie, we want you to come with us. We'll take you to a place that's safe. You'll have a chance to learn and grow up. We can be a family again."

The tall, grown up presence of his father hunkered down next to Richard, wrapping a fatherly arm around his shoulders. "We can be a family again son, the three of us. We've missed you so much and have missed out on so much of your life. Come with us and tell us what you've done and where you've been. Think of it, son, we can play together again."

Richard couldn't believe it. To be with the two people he missed most in the world. To have his family whole and around him again. It was as if dreams were coming true…. sort of. He realized that if he went with him, everyone else would be on their own. Wally would have to rescue Garth and someone else would have to depose the Laughing King. Who was he to think he could anyways? He was only a little boy, with a chance to be loved by his parents once again and to love them in return. Richard looked to his father. "Can we fly again as well?"

The former king looked puzzled and slightly disconcerted. "Well, if you want to, I suppose. If it's really important to you, of course we'll do it!" A beaming smile crossed his face. "All we have to do is go through that door" he said, pointing at a door that Richard had not noticed before.

The door looked very similar to the one that had led to his chambers as a child. It had been a deep golden color, covered in ornate carvings. In his room he had always felt safe and wanted. Richard surged up, ready to grab his parent's hands and fly through the door to lead a life of safety and happiness… Wait. Richard looked up at his father. "Don't you want to fly too?"

The elder Grayson looked puzzled. "Well, if you want to. It strikes me as a bit dangerous, not something we should indulge in everyday. Wouldn't want to get hurt, would you?" The smug smile settled on his face as he looked down on his little boy.

Richard looked up at his father, shaken. He looked at his mother. "Mom, don't you want to fly?" The Queen of Haly looked sweetly at her baby boy as she trailed a finger down his cheek. "Of course not, honey, such a dangerous thing. If you and daddy want to, that would be okay once in awhile, as long as you come back so I can rock you to sleep. How I've missed you, my baby."

Richard took a step back, his heart breaking. Tears of anguish and anger ran unchecked down his face. "You're not my parents. You're not my Mom and Dad."

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Wandering almost aimlessly, Donna moved through the town surrounding the castle of Atlantan. She had meant to move deeper into the castle, finding the missing guard and rallying them to Roy and Lord Wayne. Instead, she found herself taking a wrong turn and on the wrong side of a postern gate. With it locked on the inside. Instead of being able to help Roy, proving to him that she was invaluable and he would be lost without her, she was now walking the streets of the town, looking for a way back into the castle.

"Mom never mentioned days like this. She always went on about the glory of triumph and tossing the man you wanted over the rump of your horse and riding off. Well. This is not riding off into the sunset. This is avoiding stepping in …"

Donna's attention was attracted by an argument rising in volume and pitch. Whoever was yelling was being quite vociferous about it. Her curiosity piqued, the amazon moved up quietly, hoping it was someone she could vent her frustration on - messily.

Her surprise was complete when she found two score of the palace guard obviously divided into two factions with their respective leaders ready to come to blows over their disagreement, whatever it was.

Quickly recovering from her shock, Donna approached the group of men, determined to bring them with her to the competition fields. Neither side of the argument noticed her approach.

"Now you listen to me, Ned, we are not going to take out the gates…"

"Jack, you idiot, we've got our orders and if we don't follow them it's gonna go badly for all of us."

Donna would have waited for an opening, but it seemed that the debate was running in never ending circles. "Gentlemen."

I'm not the idiot, Janeck is. Whoever heard of spiking open…"

It don't matter. We do what were suppose to and get back to the…"

Neither side appeared to be listening. "Gentlemen!"

"If you would just pull your head out of your…."

"I ain't the one who's been working punishment detail for the last…"

Donna's frustration peaked. She walked up to the two irate men, grabbed them by the hair and knocked their heads together. The argument ended abruptly as they both went down like sacks of potatoes. Donna set one boot down on Ned's rump. She looked into the shocked eyes of the other guards.

"Now that I have your attention, I need you to go with me down to the competition fields…"

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The former King of Haly towered over his son. The look on his face was kind but stern. "Now son, of course we are. You have my eyes and hair and your mother's chin and slender build. We just want you to be safe. Come with us through that door and you'll never have to worry about anything." A fatherly hand landed on Dick's shoulder and started pulling him towards the door of his childhood.

Richard pulled back, slipping out form under the hand that had been tightening on his shoulder. "No. I can't. There are people counting on me, people who need me. I'm sorry. I've got to go." He turned to find the tunnel opening that would lead him to Garth.

"Now Dickie," He felt two soft hands on his shoulders, holding him, surrounding him like clinging vines. "You know you're too young, too weak to help. Do you really think you can win against the Laughing King? Look what happened the last time. Come with us and we can play and be together forever."

"Your mother's right, you know. You would end up as his toy again and you're much too young for bedroom games. Haly will be better off if you join us son. We can play whatever games you want; just as soon as we go through that door." The young prince of Haly felt another set of hands settle on him and start pulling him inexorable towards the door.

Dick planted his feet. He struggled and broke the hold the hands and arms had on him. He stalked away from the two figures and turned back to face them, anger and pain etching his features with grief.

"No. You're wrong. I'm not too young, I'm not too weak. I can't win against the Laughing King alone, but with the help of my friends and allies, we can defeat him. I'll never pay his price again, even if it means my own death." He glared at the two figures. "I'm beyond games and safety. They were taken from me with your death and they can't be offered back now. I have no use for them." Dick turned his back on the two figures that represented his grief, hugging himself close as he began walking for the tunnel entrance. "Go back to where the dead rest and wait for me. Whether you're proud of me or ashamed of me, know that I will stand and fight for what I believe in and defend those that I have common cause with. I can do nothing else."

Turning back for one last look, the figures and the door were gone. Looking around, he found a small purple stone, glittering in its own light. Picking it up, Dick wiped the last of the tears from his face and headed down the dark tunnel. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of the sea.

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The three groups met at the competition fields just before dawn.

Roy's was the first to arrive. The hunters had stopped by their quarters to gather up spare equipment and all the arrows they had. Taking time to resupply did not seem to be an option and none of them wanted to run out of shafts.

Donna's group arrived soon after, the two arguing leaders awake and cowed. It seemed that the rest of the guard had been quite willing to follow the lady who had a plan. Working to save their kingdom and home seemed like a much better idea than squabbling in the street.

The Lord Marshall of Grayson arrived last, his movement obscured by a lengthening shadow. It was several moments before Roy and Donna noticed him, both of them starting violently when they finally did so.

"Don't do that!" Roy hated it when people snuck up on him. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He glared into the impassive face of the Bat.

Donna also glared at the tall man. She didn't particularly enjoy being snuck up on either.

The Lord Marshall gazed back, his features appearing to be cut from stone. "The army is no longer here. The barracks are deserted. I was able to find some orders and maps in the sergeants' quarters. It would seem that Haly is invading and the army of Atlantan has been ordered to head off that invasion." A sardonic looked passed over the features of Lord Wayne. "This is news to me as the Haly army only moves on my say so." The moment passed. "These orders were posted two weeks ago and two weeks ago the army was still a month out to the north of the capitol. It would seem that whoever poisoned the command staff also sent the Atlantan army off chasing a wild hare."

Roy's face went pale. "Oh no." The Lord Marshall's eyes narrowed as he looked at Roy. The man looked ready to pass out. Roy looked back at Wayne, a sick feeling turning over in his stomach. "Several of my hunters have just returned from the western forests. There is an army advancing on Atlantan from the west. They're less than a day away and it bears the colors of the Laughing King."

"That's not all." Both men turned to Donna, her features set in grim lines and her eyes as hard as flint. "These men had been sent out by a Captain Janeck to spike open the main gates of the city. After a rousing debate," a pointed look at Jack and Ned Caused both men to be quiet. "It was decided to go find this captain and find out the purpose to his orders. When we reached the castle, the portcullis was down. The castle is no longer accessible. Wally, Garth and Dick are on their own."

The three warriors shared a bleak look. They and their small cadre of men were all that stood between the city and the advancing army of mercenaries while an unfriendly force held the castle behind them. In that same castle, somewhere with in its confines, were two young men that embodied the hopes and strength of both their countries and could very easily be at the mercy of an insane, laughing, maniac.

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