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“Cooper,” Sabine murmured as the countess turned purple. “Apologize for being so forward.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not trying very hard to sound that way. I even gave it a bit of a wait before I added, “My lady.”
Sabine half turned her head to look at me. I saw the corner of her mouth twitch in part of a smile before she looked at the countess again. “A barrel trapper is a kidnapper,” she explained. “A legendary kidnapper is said to have kept his captives in barrels until they were ransomed.”
The countess glared at me yet again. “Do you see what happens, Cousin?” she asked, her voice crisp. “They grub after these evil creatures so long they begin to look and sound like them.”
Someone rapped on the door and opened it. I expected the count, and so did the countess and Sabine. We got Tunstall and Farmer instead. It was as they were bowing and introducing themselves, Farmer showing the countess yet another copy of our orders, that the count arrived and with him Prince Baird.
Then came us kneeling, and being given permission to stand. The prince stepped on Achoo’s foot, making her yelp. He tried to apologize to her, offering her a strip of dried meat, but she hid behind me.
The prince looked at me with appeal in his eye. “Are you her handler, guardswoman?” he asked. “Please allow me to make it up with her! I would no more harm her than I would one of my own good hounds.”
I dared not say no to the king’s brother. “Makan, Achoo,” I told her quietly. “Pengantar.” With permission, she ventured out from behind me and accepted the prince’s treat, doubtless one of those he kept for his own hounds.
“Did you call her Achoo?” he asked merrily as he ruffled her ears.
Yet again did I explain how she got the scent. I could see the king in Prince Baird’s neatly arched brows, brown eyes, slender nose, and long mouth, but the prince was heavier in the jowls. He wore a short-clipped beard and combed his hair back into a gleaming horsetail. Plenty of hours in the sun had put gold streaks in that brown hair. He was more muscular than the king, too, which was to be expected. When the prince wasn’t fighting with our armies, he was hunting bandits or deer. His voice crackled as did those of folk who’d spent much time shouting.
Once he’d given Achoo a last treat, he accepted a glass of the wine the count had poured out for the nobles. Then he took a seat arranged in the half circle. When he beckoned, the count and countess sat on either side of him. Tunstall and I stood at review rest, hands clasped behind our backs, legs planted a foot apart. Farmer stood easily, his hands in the pockets of his breeches. That bought him a raised eyebrow from the prince, but no more. Provost’s mages were not exactly expected to conduct themselves in the same way as the rest of us. They were often considered cracked by outsiders and most Dogs.
“Your Highness, my lord, pray allow me to introduce the members of our company,” Lady Sabine said. When permission was given, she named each of us and we bowed. Farmer took his hands from his pockets for that, at least. Lady Sabine was very exact in telling these nobles that Tunstall was in command. When she finished, the count beckoned for her to sit by the countess. Only when Tunstall nodded his approval did Sabine take the chair.
Tunstall produced our orders. “Your Highness? My lord? If I may?”
The count extended his hand and Tunstall gave the papers to him. Normally we’d have shown our papers to the prince, since he was highest in rank, but as the lord of the castle and fief, the count had precedence. I only know scummer like this because I had to learn it for other Hunts. Nobles are a pain in the bum.
The count read the orders over, then passed them to Prince Baird. He read them, then looked at the count with raised brows as he gave the orders back to Tunstall. The count glared at us. “Do you claim one of us is the subject of your inquiries, Corporal?”
“Is our quarry here now, my lord?” Tunstall asked, his face all innocence.
“You dare!” bellowed the count.
Tunstall shrugged. “If he has not been here, and you were unaware of the plot to kidnap him, then our business is not with you.”
“Actually, he was,” I said. “Achoo tracked his scent all over the castle. I’ve heard that he may be a part of a group of slaves that left here a day or two ago.”
“By Mithros!” The count lunged to his feet. “You searched my home without so much as a by-your-leave? I’ll have you whipped for that!”
Tunstall leaned forward, the orders still in his hand, pointing to the seal and the signature of the Lord Provost. Only the Lord High Magistrate could interfere with Dogs on a Hunt under those orders. Still, I wasn’t betting my skin on the count’s willingness to obey the law. I knelt by Achoo and hugged her. As always when I hugged too tight, Achoo fought my grip.
“Forgive me, Your Lordship, sir, but you don’t know what these hounds are like, once they’ve got the scent in their sniffers!” I explained, being as Lower City as I could. “I took her to do her business because the carpets and the wood was so nice, and off she went, with me yellin’ the proper commands and all, but she was on the track. She knew just where she was goin’, did the little circle every time he musta stopped, and every time I tried to grab her she was off again. Not that I’m the bravest about catchin’ her, savin’ your presence, my lord count, not after that time I tried to grab her when she was excited and she bit me so hard!” I showed him the great double-crescent scar on the back of my hand where Rush the Snapper bit me, the time I caught him with a purse full of coles. “So mayhap I’m not the quickest to hold her, and I could only follow as she led, pleading Your Lordship’s understanding. It weren’t me, I swear, it were the hound.”
“It’d be that.” Farmer nodded as he scratched his head. “She seems sweet enough right now, the hound, but when she gets excited, she goes mad.”
“Not mad,” Tunstall said with a glare at Farmer. “She is hard to restrain.” He bowed to the prince and the count. “Her … circumstances … are such that she only responds, when she does, to Cooper. She is a fine scent hound, my lords, my lady.”
“I have told you time and again that the hound is a menace,” Lady Sabine said at her noblest. “It is poor handling that has ruined whatever training the creature was given.”
Snarl, I heard Pounce say in my mind. Achoo began a volley of barks and snarls that made her sound like the vicious animal we had named her. I calmed her down, seemingly, and we waited for the count to rule for me to be whipped or no.
“How is it, then, that she did not savage anyone in the solar?” the countess asked. I wanted to kick the old croaking corbie. “Lady Lewyth called her the friendliest thing.”
“Oh, that,” I said, half bowing since I knelt on the floor. “It’s the little animals, my lady. They calm her right down. Amazing, it is. That’s why we travel with my cat. Pounce keeps her steady. Seeing all them pretty little dogs and cats, she gentled enough that I could get a grip on her.” I looked anxiously at the count. “Please, Your Highness, I can’t help it that the finest scent hound in the Lower City is a little touchy. She’d’ve been dog meat if they hadn’t saw she’d work with me.”
“No, girl, curse it, the prince is ‘Your Highness.’ I am properly addressed as ‘my lord,’ ” the count fussed, with one look at the prince to make sure he didn’t take offense at my seeming misstep. “Obviously proper manners is not a thing taught in what training you people receive.”
The prince waved it away. “I am sure I can grant slack to those who enforce the law, Dewin,” he said.
Over our heads a great bell began to chime. The countess half rose, as if it summoned her, then took her seat again, but she was suddenly restless.
“My lady, is there a problem?” Lady Sabine asked.
“Oh, no, not precisely,” Lady Aeldra replied. “Only that is the half-hour bell for the closing of the gates. Supper is in an hour. There are things to be seen to, and we have yet to sort out a sleeping place for you and your …” She took a breath, plainly searching for a word.
“Colleagues,” Lady Sabine told her.
“People,” the count said flatly. “My dear, this can be handled after supper. Sabine, you and the wench must dress. It is the rule of my house.”
I felt sick to my gut, but I stood and faced the old canker blossom. “Your Highness, my lord, my lady, I may not,” I told them, trying not to sound rude. I knew I was courting that whipping the count had spoken of. “I am a Provost’s Guard on a Hunt. I eat, I sleep, I do all manner of things, but until I bring down my prey, I am on duty. I wear my uniform.”
By the time I was done speaking, Tunstall had moved to stand beside me. Sabine was on her feet at my right, and Farmer was at my back. Achoo sat before me, quiet, acting not at all like the half-broken creature I had painted her.
The other nobles looked at us without a word. It was hard to read their faces. I think it’s something they’re taught when they’re young. Finally the count said, “Enough. We have guests we neglect, and no one is going anywhere tonight. If your kidnapped boy is here we shall find him tomorrow as easily as today. I will give orders to the guard to let no one with a lad or lass of that age leave without my permission. In the morning we shall investigate at a proper count’s court, not this rude sniffing at corners.”
“My lord, it’s the slave dealers—” Tunstall began.
“Tomorrow,” Count Dewin said angrily. “My patience has been tried to its limit. Your woman is permitted to wear her uniform at supper, but she is to stay away from our gentle young ladies, lest her violence corrupt them. Lady Sabine, I hope you will respect our beliefs and let no taint of the dark world you live in shadow their protected lives. My lady will provide for your sleeping arrangements and for those of the … hound.” He looked at Tunstall and Farmer.
Tunstall bowed. “The prince’s men-at-arms have invited us to camp with them.”
The count grunted. He and the prince left as we bowed. They left the door open so we could see Lady Baylisa and Lady Lewyth were outside, looking anxious. Lewyth held some tunics on one arm.
“She will remain in uniform for supper,” the countess snapped. She looked at me. “Have you a clean one, at least?”
“In my packs, my lady, but I—” I began.
The countess was not interested in speech with me. “Have the slaves bring her packs and Lady Sabine’s in here.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not the best choice, but I have no other chambers available where you might have privacy, Sabine. This—wench—may wait upon you, if she has any skills.” To Lewyth she said, “Have the slaves press the clean uniform.” She looked at me. “One of the slaves will show you to the baths. Hurry to wash up. There’s less than an hour before supper. A slave will bring food for your beast and show you where to take it to do its business.”
She bustled off while I looked at the floor and kept a grip on my temper. She had not asked if I wanted anyone to handle my things. I had grown spoiled by my company, who paid me the compliment of letting me do as I wished without orders unless orders were needful. I tried to appreciate Sabine instead of hate Lady Aeldra. These last couple of days, I’d come to think of Sabine as a fellow Hunter rather than a noble.
Tunstall closed the door to the solar before anyone could enter. Farmer flicked his fingers, surrounding the four of us and the two creatures with a whitely shining globe of light. “Quickly,” he said. “There are three very good mages in this castle and two of middling range. They will start to pry in a moment, and I would rather they think I am laughable. Speak quietly. The shield will keep anyone outside from hearing us, but there are some tricky listening spells in here.”
On the ship I’d felt rather cross that he had wanted to seem foolish before other mages. Here, where every hidden weapon could be an advantage against such powerful nobles, I was grateful he kept up his disguise.
“What have we learned?” Tunstall asked, his voice soft. “Cooper, report.”
I told them everything Achoo, Pounce, and I had observed. The most damning evidence, of course, was that of Prince Gareth’s scent and bracelet in Prince Baird’s rooms. The most discouraging thing I had to say was that my Birdie believed the lad was already gone and they knew that already.
“I managed to find where Prince Baird’s men-at-arms are camped,” Tunstall said. “They are not well pleased at being here. As Cooper knows, the women soldiers among them have chosen to stay in the village rather than dress according to the count’s rules. This household is strict Mithran for the men and Gentle Mother for the women. The lads say the whole Three Rivers area—Tellerun, Halseander, Banas—is going that way. They were visiting Aspen Vale, where the prince likes to hunt, and it was the baron and his mage brother who got the prince to visit the count.”
“Elyot of Aspen Vale is a Carthaki-educated mage,” Farmer told us. “An orange robe, their second-highest ranking. He likes the elegant life. His brother the baron is Graeme. They have deep pockets—plenty of money to finance a rebellion led by mages and nobles.”
Tunstall nodded. “There were interesting gaps in what the lads said. His Highness has been out of their view for hours at a time. They aren’t used to it. Seemingly Prince Baird is a big one for riding, hunting, and tumbling the local mots when he’s out in the country, not holing up in rooms with ‘whispering types.’ The lieutenant is unhappy. He thinks Baird gets into trouble if he doesn’t stick to what he does best. Folk like the baron and the count take advantage of him.”
“I found the slave dealers,” Farmer said. “They’re angry to be held here by a noble who isn’t buying. There’s a fair in Konstown in two days where they connect with their partners from Frasrlund and Korpita.”
“We need to search that caravan,” Sabine murmured.
Farmer shook his head. “It’s no good. The boy’s gone.”
The three of us flinched, as if we were on the same string.
“The new people—that’s all the slavers I talked to called them, the new people—left early today. It was clear the captain of the rest of the train thought they were crazy, but the two women insisted, and they had the right to leave. They were in charge of the new people. They took guards and a few slaves with them, including a boy of the right age,” Farmer whispered. “They all came from Arenaver.”
Another large bell chimed.
“The main gate’s closed,” Tunstall said.
“Lads, Beka has to get cleaned up,” Sabine told them. “She’ll attract more attention from our hosts, and we don’t want that. We’ll talk later.”
“Tomorrow,” Tunstall said firmly. “They won’t let us go once the gate is closed. Tonight will be a chance to ask questions while folk eat and drink.”
“There’s an herb garden in back of the kitchens,” Farmer said. “Let’s meet there once the household is at morning prayers.” He looked at our faces. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Everyone is required to go. Let’s meet, and say we didn’t know we were expected at their worship.”
The men left us then, letting Lewyth into the room. “Hurry, Beka,” she said, taking me by the arm. “The maid will bring the uniform down to the bathhouse!”
I ordered Achoo to stay before Lewyth half pushed, half pulled me through the ladies’ solar, along the hall, and down yet another stairway. “I can walk on my own, my lady,” I said, gently tugging my arm from her hold.
“Oh, forgive me! It’s just that you don’t know the countess! If any of us are late to a meal, it’s ten strokes with the switch on the backs of our legs,” she explained. “If we’re wrinkled or our hair is mussed, it’s another ten strokes. My mother says she trains perfect ladies, but I think she just beats the spirit out of us.”
The air had gotten hotter and damper as we went further down. The door at the bottom landing was decorated with the familiar image of the Gentle Mother, a woman with her hands outstretched, a veil over her hair, her eye cast downward, her robe strained over a swollen belly. A jar, sheaves of wheat, and clusters of grapes lay around her. Lewyth bowed and opened the door. I bowed, too, since
it is always a good idea to show respect to any god.
The steam that flowed over us was perfumed with lavender, which I do not like. Bath attendants came toward me with outstretched hands. “A maid will bring a fresh uniform for her,” Lewyth told them. “She has to be in the hall in time for the supper bell!”
The attendants nodded.
“I’ll see you at table, Beka!” Lewyth told me. Then she was gone, and the attendants were stripping my clothes and insignia, with its companion Dog tag, away. One of them yelped when she found the spiked strap in my braid. Save for that, they were silent and accomplished. Those women had me, including my hair, soaped and scrubbed and into the cold pool faster than I could have done it myself. At least I managed to climb out on my own as a slave rushed in with my clean uniform, spread it on a bench, and ran off before I could give her a coin. The bath women dried me and slipped my insignia and tag around my neck. One cleaned my nails while two dried much of my hair before they combed it out and re-braided it.
