The boy ran and climbed up the diagonal brace of one of the gates to peer out of a peephole. He was seen talking momentarily, then turned and ran back across the courtyard and up the House front steps.
"They are blood kin of the House of Rababull!" he proclaimed excitedly to Old Maskron.
"What? Impossible!" Old Maskron brandished his bronze sword as he made his arthritic way down the front steps.
With the keyed-up little Master at his side, white-haired Old Maskron wobbled and wheezed his way across the courtyard, his sandals scraping audibly in the dust of the dirt, while fearful eyes watched his slow progress to the gates from their ill-concealment on all quarters.
He arrived at the gates and peered out of the peephole.
Long seconds went past as he stood and talked with whoever was outside. He nodded occasionally several times, pausing to listen now and again, his hand idly fiddling with the sword.
Finally, he nodded approval as he turned and ordered several crippled slaves to open the gates. Limping, they reached for the cross bar. With a mighty heave, the heavy oaken cross bar slid sideways out of the iron rungs and into the receiver off to one side.
Old Maskron stepped back and self-importantly ordered them to open the gates with a show of bluster. With a series of ineffectual lurches, the crippled slaves put their backs into it, and slowly the big gates began to creak open.
Suddenly a spear lanced through the air, flying through the space between the opening gate doors, and struck Old Maskron in the chest, it's iron point erupting in a welt of red from the backside of his spine as he collapsed with a single amazed croak of disbelief, dead before he struck the dirt.
In sheer terror, the boy screamed and turned to run. Halfway across the courtyard, he was struck down by a flight of arrows that zinged through the air and thunked sickeningly into his body and became inextricably embedded in his back, which he arched agonizingly even as he tumbled forward to hit the ground with an awful, nerveless slap and slid a half-step in the dust.