The High King's Tomb
Page 140
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“What’s wrong with her?” Karigan asked the stablehand, who was sweeping.
“Her mistress hasn’t come around in a long while,” he said. “Out on maneuvers or some such. Usually she takes the mare with her.” He shrugged. “Luna Moth pines for her.”
Luna Moth! Beryl’s horse. Karigan had not recognized her. Why would Beryl go out on maneuvers without her? Separating a Rider from her mount was not done lightly.
“Is the horse sick or lame?” Karigan asked, wanting to ensure Luna’s separation from Beryl wasn’t due to something mundane.
“Nope,” the stablehand said. “Perfectly fit.”
Taking a chance, Karigan asked, “When is her owner due back?”
The stablehand shrugged again. “No one would tell the likes of me, but she’s been gone a good while this time.”
Karigan didn’t like the sound of that, not at all. Was Luna trying to convey something in her agitation? She went over to the mare’s stall and stroked her neck. She settled some, watching Karigan’s every move. “Don’t worry,” Karigan whispered. She gave the mare one last pat, and led Condor from the stable. There was nothing she could do for Luna without arousing suspicion. Even if Beryl was all right, Karigan could not risk exposing the Rider’s true affiliation as an operative of the king by seeming to know her or by asking injudicious questions.
She also had her orders. If Beryl could not be contacted, she was not to investigate further but to return to Sacor City and report to Captain Mapstone.
The common room of The Fountain was quiet as Karigan and Fergal finished their evening meal of stewed mutton. A few regulars sat by the hearth sipping their pints and tossing dice. Karigan mulled over the scene in Timas Mirwell’s receiving room and fretted over the missing Beryl. Beyond Barrett’s immature behavior and her natural loathing of Timas, she could not get over the feeling the one with the real power in the room was Colonel Birch. She wasn’t concerned with provincial politics, but when it came to a fellow Rider who should be accounted for, who should have been present in that receiving room…
Karigan had not been privy to the reports Beryl had sent to the king and Captain Mapstone after Timas assumed the governorship, nor had she ever heard mention of a Colonel Birch, but she had thought everything in the province was going well. Until the silence.
“Are we going to look for Rider Spencer?” Fergal asked.
“Our orders are to return if we don’t make contact,” Karigan replied. She was both relieved and frustrated she could not investigate further. Relieved that the responsibility would fall to her superiors, frustrated there were unanswered questions, and worried that Beryl might be in trouble. She tried to console herself with the knowledge that Beryl was tough. Very tough, in a way Karigan herself never would be.
The inn’s door opened, bringing in a draft of fresh night air and the sound of splashing water of the fountain. Everyone in the common room looked up, and in walked Barrett, followed by two scarlet-uniformed soldiers. Karigan sighed and the other patrons muttered among themselves.
Attired in fine silks and velvets, Barrett stood out like a rooster among sheep. He gave the common room a cursory glance, distaste on his face, and strode straight toward Karigan and Fergal once he spied them.
“I don’t know why Lord Mirwell has me running this trivial errand,” he said without greeting. “I am not accustomed to this.” He stopped before their table, reached into an inner pocket of his frock coat, and bent down close enough to Karigan to whisper, “He sent me because he trusts me. I tried to come alone, but Birch made those other two come along.” He barely nodded his head in the direction of the soldiers. “You will find more than one message here.”
He then straightened, produced an envelope, and slapped it on the table. Aloud he said, “That is Lord Mirwell’s reply to the king.” Barrett turned and swept from the common room to the square outside, the soldiers right behind him.
Fergal leaned toward her and asked in a low voice, “What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” Karigan replied. She had a dark thought that Timas and Barrett were playing some game with her, but Barrett’s manner was…different. And it confirmed what she was thinking in regard to Birch. Underneath the sealed message to the king, she found a folded piece of paper. She glanced around the common room. The other patrons were again absorbed in their games, but she made sure no one observed her placing the folded paper in her message satchel along with the official message to the king.
Only when she was back in her room did she dare look at the hidden message. It was short and mysterious.
“Well?” Fergal said.
Karigan glanced up at him. “It’s signed by Timas, in his own hand. He says that he knows why we’re really here, and that if we go to the Teligmar Crossroads at dawn, we will see something of interest to us.”
“What in five hells does he mean?” Fergal asked.
“I assume it has something to do with Beryl,” Karigan said, “though he could be playing some trick on me. But it just doesn’t feel like a trick.”
Fergal dropped into a chair. “So, are we going to this place?”
If it had something to do with Beryl, she could not ignore the note. “Yes,” she said, “we’re going to the crossroads. Now. I don’t dare wait till dawn. While I think this is genuine, I wouldn’t put it past Timas to have some unpleasant surprise awaiting us. If we go now, we can scout the area, then wait.”
“Her mistress hasn’t come around in a long while,” he said. “Out on maneuvers or some such. Usually she takes the mare with her.” He shrugged. “Luna Moth pines for her.”
Luna Moth! Beryl’s horse. Karigan had not recognized her. Why would Beryl go out on maneuvers without her? Separating a Rider from her mount was not done lightly.
“Is the horse sick or lame?” Karigan asked, wanting to ensure Luna’s separation from Beryl wasn’t due to something mundane.
“Nope,” the stablehand said. “Perfectly fit.”
Taking a chance, Karigan asked, “When is her owner due back?”
The stablehand shrugged again. “No one would tell the likes of me, but she’s been gone a good while this time.”
Karigan didn’t like the sound of that, not at all. Was Luna trying to convey something in her agitation? She went over to the mare’s stall and stroked her neck. She settled some, watching Karigan’s every move. “Don’t worry,” Karigan whispered. She gave the mare one last pat, and led Condor from the stable. There was nothing she could do for Luna without arousing suspicion. Even if Beryl was all right, Karigan could not risk exposing the Rider’s true affiliation as an operative of the king by seeming to know her or by asking injudicious questions.
She also had her orders. If Beryl could not be contacted, she was not to investigate further but to return to Sacor City and report to Captain Mapstone.
The common room of The Fountain was quiet as Karigan and Fergal finished their evening meal of stewed mutton. A few regulars sat by the hearth sipping their pints and tossing dice. Karigan mulled over the scene in Timas Mirwell’s receiving room and fretted over the missing Beryl. Beyond Barrett’s immature behavior and her natural loathing of Timas, she could not get over the feeling the one with the real power in the room was Colonel Birch. She wasn’t concerned with provincial politics, but when it came to a fellow Rider who should be accounted for, who should have been present in that receiving room…
Karigan had not been privy to the reports Beryl had sent to the king and Captain Mapstone after Timas assumed the governorship, nor had she ever heard mention of a Colonel Birch, but she had thought everything in the province was going well. Until the silence.
“Are we going to look for Rider Spencer?” Fergal asked.
“Our orders are to return if we don’t make contact,” Karigan replied. She was both relieved and frustrated she could not investigate further. Relieved that the responsibility would fall to her superiors, frustrated there were unanswered questions, and worried that Beryl might be in trouble. She tried to console herself with the knowledge that Beryl was tough. Very tough, in a way Karigan herself never would be.
The inn’s door opened, bringing in a draft of fresh night air and the sound of splashing water of the fountain. Everyone in the common room looked up, and in walked Barrett, followed by two scarlet-uniformed soldiers. Karigan sighed and the other patrons muttered among themselves.
Attired in fine silks and velvets, Barrett stood out like a rooster among sheep. He gave the common room a cursory glance, distaste on his face, and strode straight toward Karigan and Fergal once he spied them.
“I don’t know why Lord Mirwell has me running this trivial errand,” he said without greeting. “I am not accustomed to this.” He stopped before their table, reached into an inner pocket of his frock coat, and bent down close enough to Karigan to whisper, “He sent me because he trusts me. I tried to come alone, but Birch made those other two come along.” He barely nodded his head in the direction of the soldiers. “You will find more than one message here.”
He then straightened, produced an envelope, and slapped it on the table. Aloud he said, “That is Lord Mirwell’s reply to the king.” Barrett turned and swept from the common room to the square outside, the soldiers right behind him.
Fergal leaned toward her and asked in a low voice, “What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” Karigan replied. She had a dark thought that Timas and Barrett were playing some game with her, but Barrett’s manner was…different. And it confirmed what she was thinking in regard to Birch. Underneath the sealed message to the king, she found a folded piece of paper. She glanced around the common room. The other patrons were again absorbed in their games, but she made sure no one observed her placing the folded paper in her message satchel along with the official message to the king.
Only when she was back in her room did she dare look at the hidden message. It was short and mysterious.
“Well?” Fergal said.
Karigan glanced up at him. “It’s signed by Timas, in his own hand. He says that he knows why we’re really here, and that if we go to the Teligmar Crossroads at dawn, we will see something of interest to us.”
“What in five hells does he mean?” Fergal asked.
“I assume it has something to do with Beryl,” Karigan said, “though he could be playing some trick on me. But it just doesn’t feel like a trick.”
Fergal dropped into a chair. “So, are we going to this place?”
If it had something to do with Beryl, she could not ignore the note. “Yes,” she said, “we’re going to the crossroads. Now. I don’t dare wait till dawn. While I think this is genuine, I wouldn’t put it past Timas to have some unpleasant surprise awaiting us. If we go now, we can scout the area, then wait.”
