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He ignored me.

Then someone started shouting about smoke.

I'd expected that part.

Alana had arranged damp straw beside one of the kitchen vents, using a brazier to produce enough smoke to fill the adjoining corridor. There was no open fire near anything that could catch.

I'd made certain of that when planning the diversion.

Eleven children slept inside Nottingham Castle, four of them in the kitchen loft. I'd known about every one of them before drawing up my plans, and I wasn't about to put them in danger just to rescue Guy.

Fitzwalter, however, knew none of that.

All he heard was someone shouting about smoke inside a castle full of his soldiers.

"Go!" he snapped at two more guards. "Now!"

The commotion above us grew louder.

Merry had overturned a supply cart beneath the inner courtyard arch just as the guards changed shifts. With a second cart blocking the kitchen passage and an entire tun of ale spilled across the floor, the men coming on duty were now trying to squeeze past those leaving.

Somebody had also extinguished a brazier, leaving part of the storage area in darkness.

Add smoke and a ringing alarm bell, and there was enough confusion to occupy half the garrison.

The regular guards followed their standing orders and rushed toward the courtyard.

Exactly as I'd expected.

Guy looked at me.

"You haven't really broken into my castle," he said quietly. "You've used its own routines against it."

"Took you three years to notice."

Fitzwalter turned sharply.

"Seize her! Alive!"

I already had the pouch in my hand.

Before the nearest soldier could reach me, I threw it toward the torch mounted above his shoulder.

The pouch burst against the flame, sending powdered ash and ground chalk into the air.

My grandmother had used the same chalk for writing on slate.

I'd discovered a considerably more entertaining use for it.

The powder spread through the narrow passage, making the soldiers cough and cover their eyes. The torch flickered, leaving them struggling to see.

Guy moved immediately.

He grabbed the nearest soldier's arm, twisted it behind his back, and knocked the sword from his hand. Then he shoved the man into the soldier beside him.

He managed all of that with a stitched wound in his side.

I caught the back of his coat.