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“Better than you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied frankly as we were ushered into the keep. “There are ways to trip her up, but my mind was on other things and she jumped me like I was a novice.”
We went through one set of doors, then another. Tunstall and Farmer were taken into a chamber on the left by Elyot, ten guards, and a couple of other coves who wore mage-like robes. Lady Nomalla, Dolsa, and two of the female guards went into a similar room on the right with Sabine and me. The room was stone with no hearth or braziers. Standing screens were placed along the rear wall, blurry metal mirrors hung here and there, and the room was furnished with a scattering of chairs and hassocks. It seemed to be a chamber where folk could wait and check their looks before they entered the presence of the lord of Halleburn. My cheeks burned at the impudence of this nobleman, no matter how old his bloodlines, holding court like the king.
“Everything on the floor,” Dolsa ordered, stripping off her gloves. “Packs, belts, weapons, boots, clothes, underthings. Take those spikes from your hair, Cooper, and you too if you have them, Sabine.”
“I am not disrobing before the likes of you, mage,” Sabine replied. “Nor these traitors.”
“Sabine, we have never fought one another,” Nomalla said, her eyes steady as she spoke. “And we will not here. I will have this mage and these guards drag you down and strip you. Or you can go behind that screen and disrobe with dignity. So may—Cooper, is it?—Cooper, here.”
Sabine stared at the lady knight, her brown eyes burning. At last she said, “I never would have imagined you as a traitor, Nomalla. Not here and not in any of the realms.”
“I am no traitor,” the other knight said calmly. Her cheeks were as crimson as mine felt. “Family comes before all, as does a child’s duty to her father. Strip here or use the screen, my lady.”
Sabine clenched her hands. Then she turned to me and nodded. We left our packs, boots, leather, and what armor remained to us there with them. She jerked her head toward the carved screens when we were down to our clothes. I found the linked wooden panels were set up to make small alcoves, giving us a little privacy. As I took off my garments and set them down, I heard the women pick apart the contents of our packs. Dolsa found every magicked thing we had, and made certain to tell Nomalla what it was and how pathetic she found it. I wanted so badly to kick her bum straight up between her ears.
Finally, as I stood there naked and a woman soldier inspected my garments, Nomalla sent Dolsa to inform Lord Halleburn that we were nearly ready for questioning. Then she dismissed the guards and told Sabine and me we could dress. I guessed that someone must have inspected Sabine’s clothes at the same time that a mot did mine.
When we came out from behind the screens, both of us red-faced and looking for a fight, only Nomalla remained in the room. Sabine strode up to her and slapped her across the face. Nomalla let her do it, to my shock.
“We are caught up in things that are bigger than we are,” she told Sabine. “Fate turns. We ride with her or are left behind.”
“And what of honor?” demanded Sabine hotly, keeping her voice low. “What of the vows made to king and country? You are a lady knight, not some back alley Corus strumpet!” She glanced at me. “Apologies, Beka.” She knew lots of my friends went by those names.
I shrugged. “I’ve seen plenty of great house strumpets,” I replied.
“I am my father’s daughter and a knight of generations of Halleburn knights,” Nomalla replied steadily. “If your family took more of an interest in the realm’s politics instead of raising horses, my lady of Macayhill, you would know what I mean.”
“If this is what that interest means, I’d as soon be an honest horse breeder,” Sabine told her.
The door opened and a man said from outside, “He bids you bring the prisoners, my lady.”
Nomalla beckoned for us to leave the room. “I wish you hadn’t crossed my father’s path, Sabine. I really wish you hadn’t.”
Following behind her, I told Sabine, “To me, that noble honor is a wonderful thing. I see folk put it on and take it off all the time, and no one ever notices how wrinkled it gets.”
Nomalla clenched her hands into fists. Sabine only smiled down at me. “It might seem so to you, Beka.” Her mouth curled down bitterly. “In your boots, it would to me as well. But for some of us, it is a garment that is the same as our own skin, impossible to take off and live.”
We joined the men as they stood before a fresh pair of closed doors. Tunstall was down to his uniform like me, no belt, no boots. Apparently the folk that had searched us knew of our habit of wearing buckle knives, using the leather of our belts as stranglers’ nooses, and of tucking knives or spikes in our boots. The castle flagstones were cold under our feet. Sabine and Farmer were in the same case as we were, bootless and beltless. It was enough to make me think these Halleburn folk didn’t trust us.
Elyot was gone, as was Dolsa. Guards in Halleburn tunics of hideous orange and pink thrust the door open and Nomalla led us into the great hall beyond. We had a way to go. They had left a nice, large space for us to cross before we reached a stopping spot in front of an overblown dais. There, in the seat of honor, sat Prince Baird. I supposed he had overcome his qualms about betraying his family. On his right sat an older man of sixty-two with Nomalla’s long nose. Unlike her, he had bright blue eyes, deep-set, a mouth with lips so thin they seemed well-nigh invisible, and well-groomed white hair around the sides and back of his bald pate. Unlike His Highness, who fidgeted uneasily in the higher chair, Thanen of Halleburn sat upright and comfortable. Nothing seemed to miss his gaze, unless it was the black cat that had chosen to sit in the shadows between his chair and that of the prince.
My companions tensed around me. Then they forced themselves to relax, just as I did. They had to be asking themselves, as I did, what Pounce could be allowed to do to help us. They would remember that Pounce had said the gods had done nothing when he intervened before because Achoo was an animal, not a human being. My companions might even know, as I did, that minor gods and immortal creatures like dragons had been brought low before by mages, and gods had been hurt by them.
We did not face only two mages, Elyot and Dolsa, who both stood at the shoulders of the prince. Count Dewin of Queensgrace sat on the dais, with his personal mage in attendance. At Thanen’s shoulder stood another cove in one of those stupid robes so many of them seemed to think made them look magical. At Prince Baird’s side I saw two familiar faces. Master Ironwood and Mistress Orielle, Their Majesties’ personal mages and supposed defenders, had come to join the fun.
Tunstall lunged for them. “You!” he cried as some purplish magic froze him in place. “What are you doing here? Were you traitors all along?”
“Where was I to go when Mistress Cassine cast me out of the Summer Palace?” whined Master Ironwood. He had lost weight even in the two weeks since I’d last seen him. “Where could I go with the suspicion of treason on me?”
“Stop complaining!” Orielle snapped. “Embrace your future, you fool—you’ve been a part of this for too long to back out now!” She was greatly changed from her soft, fluttering ways in the Summer Palace. “Why couldn’t you beggars have died when you were supposed to?”
“Dreadful sorry, mistress,” Farmer said at his most foolish. “Ma always said I was too silly to die.”
“Quiet!” Lord Thanen barked. Though Count Dewin and Prince Baird were of higher rank, he clearly was in charge. “There’s no reason to bandy words with these underlings!”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Orielle said with a pretty half curtsy. “But they eluded every trap set for them. They were nearly on your doorstep when your people gathered them up. Surely it would be interesting to learn why?”
“My lord Gershom knows the route we took,” Tunstall said. “Other Provost’s Guards are on their way to meet us now. There may yet be time to save your families and lands, though not your own lives.”
“You mean those fi
ve poor Dogs out of Frasrlund?” Elyot asked. “Dead in the road. And any other help out of the kennels between here and the border will not even leave the towns.”
I looked at the floor and asked that glorious, multicolored creature I had once called the Black God to care for my fellow Dogs. I also asked the God if he, she, might find it in his heart to step on these leeches when they came into the Peaceful Realms, even though that was not his usual policy. The God did not reply, but this time I didn’t mind so much. I had seen him once and that was more than enough answer to any prayer.
“Sabine,” Lord Thanen said. Everyone on that dais went still. Looking at them all, I knew this was the noble core of the rebellion. Elyot’s brother Graeme of Aspen Vale was there. Other lords in armor or silk held the chairs on either side of the prince and Thanen, waiting to hear what he would say. A couple of them leered at Sabine, but changed their minds when Tunstall glared at them.
Sabine had not moved when Lord Thanen called her by name. She waited, legs slightly spread for balance, hands clasped lightly in front of her. She’d made it plain she was prepared to fight, with or without weapons.
Then I saw the boy struggling to fill Thanen’s wine cup from a heavy jar. It was stupid. He was little, four by my estimate. He was dark-skinned and dark-haired.…
He spilled. Of course he spilled. He was a little boy surrounded by great lords, and he was only four years old. Lord Thanen gave him the back of his hand, knocking the child into the shadows behind the chairs. The wine jug fell to the floor. “Nomalla, tell one of the squires to get out here and serve,” he snapped. “See that the slave gets five strokes. And have someone clean this mess up.”
Nomalla bowed, but from the way she clenched the hand on the side opposite her father, she did not appreciate being ordered about like a housekeeper. No one else had moved. How many of them knew the identity of the little slave? I was shaking from head to toe. I had gotten my first look at my quarry and, like Achoo, I was ready to launch myself across any ground between me and him. The bruise around his left eye, the long red scrape on his right leg, visible where the thin tunic he wore ended, those only made my need to sweep the lad up and run with him worse. I had often wondered if years of chasing Achoo had made us sommat alike. Now I knew it was true.
The squire was there almost instantly with a jar of wine and fresh cups. He must have been waiting outside the door. He was graceful and quick, coming around behind the chairs, but he could have been as clumsy as a bullock and no one would have noticed. They were all waiting for the lord of Halleburn. How could he keep so many in thrall?
Thanen himself had not taken his eyes off Sabine. When the squire had refilled Prince Baird’s cup and given Thanen a new, full one, the old man waved a long white hand at Sabine. “Give the lady knight a cup.”
Sabine’s deep, rich voice rang out through the hall. “I would not drink it if you held my nose and dumped it down my throat.”
“Sabine, Sabine,” Thanen said, trying to look sorrowful. “Is this the way to speak to family?”
“I do not feel like family just now, my lord,” Sabine told him. “I feel like a traveler who has been caught by robbers and dragged to their hideaway.”
Tunstall cleared his throat. “Beg pardon, lady knight, but that is what happened.”
“Were you not Sabine’s … special friend, I’d serve you well for your impudence,” Thanen snapped. All of his speech seemed to come from one side of his mouth, as if he were forever sneering. “As it is, count yourself fortunate and hold your tongue. Many here will tell you I am not a patient man.”
Everywhere I saw heads bow, as if folk wanted to agree but were afraid to do so even when they had permission. He had to be a very nasty bit of work, if these wellborn folk were so skittish around him.
“Sabine, we may be here initially as enemies, but that need not be so,” Thanen said in that cozening way. “We could mend our differences. Did you know your grandfather Masbolle has revised his will? He is very old. Should you not die before him, you will be very rich.”
Sabine’s head jerked back. “I did not know of the change to his will, nor do I care. I also did not know that it is suddenly legal for anyone not a member of the family to read a will.”
The old barnacle stared into his wine cup. “Accommodations can be reached between friends with mutual interests,” he said idly. “Just as they can be reached between great heiresses and kings.”
“The king is married,” Sabine replied.
Thanen looked up at her, his eyes blue ice. “Don’t be a fool, girl. Your grandfather is ailing. Your marriage would bring with it connections to this house, Masbolle, Cavall, Mandash, Queensgrace, and Niede’s Jewel. You would be King Baird’s queen instead of a vagabond.”
I ducked my head. He didn’t know Sabine very well, to say that such things would interest her.
She paused for a long moment before she said, “If you think you’re just going to wave pretty promises before me, you are wasting your time. I admit, I’ve considered a change. A woman gets older.”
“Sabine!” Tunstall said, horrified.
“Not you, pet.” She actually patted his cheek.
I was going cold all over. I’ve had nightmares, but none like this. I prayed all the gods that this was sheer trickery from Sabine. If only she weren’t so convincing!
“I want something more solid to deal on,” she told Thanen. She looked at Baird. “And I keep Mattes. I know you. You’ll never give up your amusements after we wed. Well, I demand the same.”
Prince Baird slowly grinned at her. “Done.”
“Hah!” Thanen actually rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s retire to someplace more private for proper negotiations.” He looked at Farmer and me. “As for these two, ensure he is useless, then toss both of them into the dungeon until I’ve decided what to do with them.” He pointed at us. “You’ve cost me time and money. I will have some satisfaction before I’m done with you.”
I fought, of course, but the mages laid a stillness on us both until guards could come. They took Farmer one way and me another. Down through back stairs in the keep we went, the air getting colder and colder. At last we passed down a long stone corridor marked with doors that held barred windows at face height. The hall ended in a watch room where two guards played at dice on the floor. They took charge of me and walked me back to one of the cells. There they unlocked the door and shoved me in.
The cell wasn’t so bad, as cells go. There was torchlight through the window in the door, giving me a decent view. I paced it at ten feet by fifteen feet. Back home it would be considered a four-man place, but we liked our Rats good and annoyed with each other while they were caged.
There were narrow stone benches or beds built into two walls facing each other. There was no window to the outside. Straw and rushes lay on the floor and two sets of shackles were bolted to the rear wall, in case they wanted to keep a prisoner standing. A piss bucket, empty, thanks to the gods, sat in a corner. The stink was bad, but not as bad as it was at Outwalls Prison, say, or even the cells at Jane Street kennel. Thanen must not get many visitors to house down here.
Judging from the narrow cracks in the walls, I knew there’d be rats and mice. I had naught to ward the rats off. I rather like mice, but rats will fight. The cell was cold, too. That might account for there being so little stink. There were fleas and lice, but they left me alone. I hoped that was Farmer’s spell at work, but who knew how long it might last? I might be the only corpse uneaten by worms sent to the god by these Rats, at least until Farmer and mayhap the others joined me. I had no faith in Thanen of Halleburn’s bargain with Sabine and Tunstall, however much she might have believed it. Having cooled off in more ways than one, I was finding it harder and harder to think that she or Tunstall could have turned into the folk I saw in that great hall. On the other hand, I had little trouble at all imagining that they’d done it to gain time to work a way to get themselves and mayhap the prince, Farmer, and me out of
this trap.
My inspection of my new home done, I lay on one of the stone benches, hugged my arms around me, and concentrated on the palace in my memory. I would not think of Farmer’s fate, or Pounce’s, Achoo’s, Tunstall’s, Sabine’s, or my own. If I did, I would shake myself to pieces. It was better to do something, even if it was only in my head. I began work on my journal for the time since the fire at the Wayhouse, making sure each event of our arrival there and all that happened thereafter was set exactly where I might find it if I lived. I included what had been said by my companions to have the fullest report I could put together. It seemed unbelievable that I would survive this halt in our travels, but that was no reason to be sloppy in my record keeping.
