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“Where does the drain empty out?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, someone find out! We’re not letting that bastard Wylder get away with this!” He took a breath as he pulled his attention from the guards beside me and let it settle on me. “If I have to chase him all the way across the Gath then so be it. I’ll have that traitor’s head.”
He pulled away from the drain and righting himself, started forward, parting the way between his guards before he turned back to face me.
“Charlotte, change clothes, you look ridiculous.”
***
An hour later, I was back in my squire’s uniform, face washed free of the paint and the dance in the hall just a fading memory.
I was now standing alongside a small squad of soldiers, handpicked by Nicolo. He strode out, his costume now replaced with his usual black attire, though tonight it somehow seemed more made for action.
My cheek was still smarting from where he’d slapped me and there was a red print to go along with it, but it was really my ego that had suffered the worst blow. I just… I hadn’t imagined he’d ever lay a hand on me and now I realized I was wrong to have doubted that. Even though I was in the right and had basically protected him from being potentially killed, he’d rewarded me by slapping me across the face. And that was a humiliation I couldn’t stomach. I was wrong to have imagined he was nobler than he was. He was just as bad as everyone had given him credit for and, if anything, it was a reminder that I’d come here with a job to do and I would get that job done.
Master Nicolo had pulled the proverbial wool over my eyes but now I could see clearly again.
“Ready? Right, mount up.” Horses had been brought out from the stables for our mission. That mission had been arranged hastily, and there was a reason for that.
“Master?” Mellor asked as he walked up to us, where we were already mounted on our horses and ready to lead the way.
Nicolo looked down from his horse. “Make it quick.”
“Her Majesty is most insistent that someone else lead this search,” Mellor answered. It was no surprise that the Old Queen didn’t want Nicolo leading this mission because Balduin’s life depended on Nicolo’s. If Nicolo was killed, then Balduin was as good as dead from his mysterious disease.
“You may relay the message to the queen that most unfortunately, I’d already left the castle by the time you arrived,” said Nicolo.
Mellor nodded. “Most unfortunate, Master. I shall apologize to her Majesty for my slowness.”
At any other time, Nicolo would never have risked Balduin’s life by risking his own. But the involvement of Wylder seemed to make this personal, and clearly, he wasn’t letting go.
“Come on!” he yelled and led the way.
We rode out of the Great Castle.
