Blackveil
Page 67
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Karigan greeted him in turn and sensing it was time to go so the captain could speak with Lynx in private, she slipped outside, closing the door behind her.
She strode across castle grounds with hands in pockets against the chill. The pathways were strangely empty and she supposed people were keeping close to their hearth fires today. Winter wasn’t gone yet and even in spring they were apt to get a snowstorm or two.
Karigan sighed, expelling a steamy breath as she sorted out the captain’s words. She’d known that there would be some extra duties expected of her with the knighthood, but since nothing in her life had seemed to change since the knighting and everyone treated her the same, she thought maybe life would continue along normally. It appeared this was not to be so.
As for the masque, the decision to attend belonged to her alone, but as presented by the captain, it was not much of a choice. Attend and show support for her king, or by her absence dishonor him. Her absence, the captain said, would be notable.
When she was younger, she would have been thrilled by the prospect of a royal masquerade ball. According to her aunts, one or two balls had been held at the G’ladheon estate while her mother was still alive, but those would have been humbler affairs attended by business associates, minor officials, family, and friends, not a castleful of lords and ladies.
With your knighthood you are entering the very thorny world of the royal court, the captain had said.
Karigan shuddered. She would attend the masquerade ball to support her king, but she would stay for as short a time as was courteous.
As she neared the main castle entrance, she saw the prison wagon leaving the grounds. She was not close enough to see who was within the vehicle—pretty much a cage on wheels—or how many. Guards in Sacoridian black and silver strode alongside the wagon. The prisoners must have just received judgment from King Zachary and were either being transferred to the city jail or being taken to the gallows. She had not heard about any public hangings of late, but then again, she chose not to pay much attention to such things. She’d attended one public execution, that of old Lord Mirwell, and that had been one too many.
When she mounted the steps of the castle entrance, she discovered Yates there, arms crossed, watching after the prison wagon and chatting with the guards on duty at the doors.
“You missed the excitement,” he told her.
“What excitement?”
“One of the prisoners went berserk,” said the door guard, Mikel. “Sent Jenks to the mending wing.”
“I guess the prisoner didn’t like his sentence,” Yates said. “He’s one of Immerez’s men. Took part in Lady Estora’s abduction.”
The naming of Immerez brought Karigan up short. Immerez, formerly of the Mirwellian militia, had been in on his old lord’s scheme to overthrow King Zachary, and when that failed, he escaped justice and became an outlaw working with Second Empire. He had been behind the plot to abduct Lady Estora, but in the end she was rescued and Immerez and his men captured.
“That prisoner ought to give ’em a show down at the Hanging Square,” Mikel said, and he placed an invisible noose around his neck and pretended to flail, his face contorting in a grotesque expression. His fellow door guard laughed.
Disgusted, Karigan headed inside, Yates following along.
“Was Immerez in that wagon?” she asked.
“No. The king’s still holding him for whatever reason.”
Karigan didn’t know what more they could possibly get out of the man, but his fate was all but assured. He’d have his turn at the gallows.
“Lynx came in a little while ago,” Yates said as they strode through the castle toward the Rider wing.
“I know. I just saw him. I wonder what’s brought him back.”
“I have my guess,” Yates said.
Karigan waited, but he didn’t explain. “Well?” she demanded.
Yates started whistling some tuneless melody.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope, don’t think I can.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
Yates smiled enigmatically. “Yes.”
“You’re awful! I should throttle you!”
Yates side-stepped away in mock horror almost bumping into an annoyed administrative clerk hurrying along the corridor. “Please, Sir Karigan! Please don’t hurt me!” He gave her his most woebegone expression.
“Oh, you are pathetic,” she told him.
“Why thank you!” He resumed his whistling.
“You don’t have to be so bloody smug about it.”
“About being pathetic?”
“You know what I mean!”
He only gave her that maddening smile. As they turned down the Rider wing Karigan could not help wondering what he knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell her. And how would he know about what brought Lynx back?
It began to dawn on her what it might be, and if she were right? The last thing Yates should be was happy about it.
INVITATION AND A MULE CART
The wheels of Amberhill’s carriage rumbled over the cobblestones of the Winding Way. Yap sat across from him on the verge of dozing off, a contented smile on his face and eyelids drooping. After a six course meal at the Red Coach, he ought to be content. Amberhill felt as if his own full belly would burst his trousers and waistcoat. They’d taken their meal in a private alcove where Amberhill was able to continue Yap’s instruction in manners at table. Yap was a quick learner, but sometimes it was all Amberhill could do to restrain the former pirate from wolfing down everything in sight in mere seconds.
She strode across castle grounds with hands in pockets against the chill. The pathways were strangely empty and she supposed people were keeping close to their hearth fires today. Winter wasn’t gone yet and even in spring they were apt to get a snowstorm or two.
Karigan sighed, expelling a steamy breath as she sorted out the captain’s words. She’d known that there would be some extra duties expected of her with the knighthood, but since nothing in her life had seemed to change since the knighting and everyone treated her the same, she thought maybe life would continue along normally. It appeared this was not to be so.
As for the masque, the decision to attend belonged to her alone, but as presented by the captain, it was not much of a choice. Attend and show support for her king, or by her absence dishonor him. Her absence, the captain said, would be notable.
When she was younger, she would have been thrilled by the prospect of a royal masquerade ball. According to her aunts, one or two balls had been held at the G’ladheon estate while her mother was still alive, but those would have been humbler affairs attended by business associates, minor officials, family, and friends, not a castleful of lords and ladies.
With your knighthood you are entering the very thorny world of the royal court, the captain had said.
Karigan shuddered. She would attend the masquerade ball to support her king, but she would stay for as short a time as was courteous.
As she neared the main castle entrance, she saw the prison wagon leaving the grounds. She was not close enough to see who was within the vehicle—pretty much a cage on wheels—or how many. Guards in Sacoridian black and silver strode alongside the wagon. The prisoners must have just received judgment from King Zachary and were either being transferred to the city jail or being taken to the gallows. She had not heard about any public hangings of late, but then again, she chose not to pay much attention to such things. She’d attended one public execution, that of old Lord Mirwell, and that had been one too many.
When she mounted the steps of the castle entrance, she discovered Yates there, arms crossed, watching after the prison wagon and chatting with the guards on duty at the doors.
“You missed the excitement,” he told her.
“What excitement?”
“One of the prisoners went berserk,” said the door guard, Mikel. “Sent Jenks to the mending wing.”
“I guess the prisoner didn’t like his sentence,” Yates said. “He’s one of Immerez’s men. Took part in Lady Estora’s abduction.”
The naming of Immerez brought Karigan up short. Immerez, formerly of the Mirwellian militia, had been in on his old lord’s scheme to overthrow King Zachary, and when that failed, he escaped justice and became an outlaw working with Second Empire. He had been behind the plot to abduct Lady Estora, but in the end she was rescued and Immerez and his men captured.
“That prisoner ought to give ’em a show down at the Hanging Square,” Mikel said, and he placed an invisible noose around his neck and pretended to flail, his face contorting in a grotesque expression. His fellow door guard laughed.
Disgusted, Karigan headed inside, Yates following along.
“Was Immerez in that wagon?” she asked.
“No. The king’s still holding him for whatever reason.”
Karigan didn’t know what more they could possibly get out of the man, but his fate was all but assured. He’d have his turn at the gallows.
“Lynx came in a little while ago,” Yates said as they strode through the castle toward the Rider wing.
“I know. I just saw him. I wonder what’s brought him back.”
“I have my guess,” Yates said.
Karigan waited, but he didn’t explain. “Well?” she demanded.
Yates started whistling some tuneless melody.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope, don’t think I can.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
Yates smiled enigmatically. “Yes.”
“You’re awful! I should throttle you!”
Yates side-stepped away in mock horror almost bumping into an annoyed administrative clerk hurrying along the corridor. “Please, Sir Karigan! Please don’t hurt me!” He gave her his most woebegone expression.
“Oh, you are pathetic,” she told him.
“Why thank you!” He resumed his whistling.
“You don’t have to be so bloody smug about it.”
“About being pathetic?”
“You know what I mean!”
He only gave her that maddening smile. As they turned down the Rider wing Karigan could not help wondering what he knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell her. And how would he know about what brought Lynx back?
It began to dawn on her what it might be, and if she were right? The last thing Yates should be was happy about it.
INVITATION AND A MULE CART
The wheels of Amberhill’s carriage rumbled over the cobblestones of the Winding Way. Yap sat across from him on the verge of dozing off, a contented smile on his face and eyelids drooping. After a six course meal at the Red Coach, he ought to be content. Amberhill felt as if his own full belly would burst his trousers and waistcoat. They’d taken their meal in a private alcove where Amberhill was able to continue Yap’s instruction in manners at table. Yap was a quick learner, but sometimes it was all Amberhill could do to restrain the former pirate from wolfing down everything in sight in mere seconds.
