The Palace (Bell Mountain Series #6) (32 page)

Ryons was afraid his army would shatter on the city walls. He didn’t quite know how to say so, and so he didn’t mention it. “I’m only a boy,” he thought. “What do I know about walled cities?” But they’d been beaten once before at Silvertown, and he couldn’t forget it.

The first day on the march, a group of Wallekki from the city tried to take them in the flank. A flight of poisoned arrows stopped them: they’d never seen the Attakotts hiding in the grass. Ryons’ own Wallekki would have pursued, but Chief Shaffur, in command of all the horses, wouldn’t allow it.

“The quicker the march, the better we’ll fight at the end of it,” he said, when he reported the incident to Helki. “Besides, those men who attacked us were men without a tribe, mere slaves of the Thunder King. It wouldn’t have suited our dignity to chase them.”

“They might not be strong enough to keep us away from the city,” Helki said. “I reckon their real strength is in the walls. Men won’t stop us, but stone walls might.”

The army camped that night behind a ring of sharpened stakes driven into the ground, a precaution introduced by the Hosa, who said it was their custom when campaigning in enemy territory. All around the camp, for a good mile outward, Wallekki and Attakotts patrolled throughout the night. But no enemy came near enough to be detected.

“They’ll be watching us, though, you can be sure of that,” said Helki. “I hope they like what they see.”

Ryons fell asleep, soothed by the sound of Hosa campfire songs and a Ghol plucking the plaintive strings of a catgut-and-tortoise-shell music box.

In Ninneburky, Enith had supper with the baroness.

She’d had a trying day. In the absence of the baron, the militia continued its hunt for the snatchers. So far they’d caught three of them, plus one unhappy vagrant. Enith had had to identify them. They’d let the innocent man go, with a silver coin for his pains, and had locked up the others. When the baron returned, they would probably be hanged.

“I can’t bear to think of it,” Enith said, when the baroness brought her into her parlor. “What those men did was wrong—but should they die for it? After all, they didn’t really hurt us. I was scared of them, when they had us. But when I saw them today, they just looked like three poor, helpless fools.”

Vannett patted her hand. “You have a compassionate heart,” she said.

“Those men never would have done anything to us at all,” Enith said, “except for their chief. And he’s the one who got away!”

The men under guard in Ninneburky were nothing, but she was still afraid of Ysbott. That was a wicked man, and he surely would have hurt the girls—ransom or no ransom, she thought—had they not escaped before he ran out of patience. And he was still out there, somewhere, maybe planning to steal into the town by night, or in disguise, and seek revenge. Ellayne was safe with her father, miles away from here. “But he can still get me,” Enith thought. She was afraid to go to bed at night.

She’d told the whole story to Vannett, including the part about Ellayne’s magic light (or whatever it was). The baroness hardly knew what to make of it.

“Never mind,” she said. “Your Aunt Lanora is making us a very nice supper, and you can stay with us until all those men are caught. We’ll read some of the Scriptures together this evening, and maybe play some cards. It’s lonely for me here with the baron and Ellayne away, and Jack. But you’re a help to me, Enith. I’m very glad to have your company.”

They’d missed their reading time this afternoon when Enith had had to go and see the prisoners. To her surprise, she’d truly missed it. Was it only because Vannett’s presence soothed her, or was there something in those ancient writings that spoke to a part of her that she’d never known existed?

“Thank you, ma’am,” she said. “That’ll be nice.”

“I used to worry all the time,” Vannett said, “about the silliest things. What kind of dresses Ellayne ought to wear and what certain people would think of them. Whether my husband would ever become an oligarch, and what the other oligarchs’ wives would think of me. And then Ellayne ran off with Jack, and no one could find them, and so I had something really serious to worry me! I don’t know how I didn’t lose my mind the whole time she was gone.

“And then the bell rang, King Ozias’ bell on Bell Mountain, and woke us early in the morning. And from that moment on, I knew somehow that Ellayne was still alive and safe and that God was watching over her. Didn’t just think it: knew it. And from then on, I just stopped worrying. Not even when the Zephites came and almost took the town did I fret like I used to fret. I’m not even worried now,” she said, and paused. “But I do get lonely when everyone’s away.”

As for Ysbott the Snake, he’d given up on his men, given up on recapturing the baron’s daughter, and everything else except to stay alive and get back to Lintum Forest where he belonged. That should have been easy for him, but it wasn’t.

For one thing, he couldn’t see too well. The little witch had hurt his eyes, and they had not entirely recovered. Herds of dark brown spots romped across his field of vision. Sometimes his eyes itched so badly, it was all he could do not to claw them out of his head. And the wound in his cheek was infected, sore, and beginning to scare him. It should have healed by now, but it was only getting worse. He didn’t know what to do about it.

Deserted by his useless followers, he couldn’t seem to find his way out of the woodlands that ran along the riverbank. Sometimes he heard men call to one another, and realizing they were probably hunting for him, he would take cover for a while. He could never get his bearings after coming out of hiding.

He was hungry, but didn’t dare ask anyone for food. Ordinarily he would just barge into a farmhouse and take what he wanted. He couldn’t do that now: any strong and healthy farmer would be more than a match for him. So he had to keep away from houses. He found some berries and wolfed down a lot of them, but they only made him violently ill.

It was all the girl’s fault, the baron’s daughter. He wanted to tear her to pieces with his bare hands. At the thought of her he gnashed his teeth, hating her as he’d never hated anyone in all his life.

He groped and stumbled and blundered through the underbrush, but the way south constantly eluded him.

CHAPTER 35

How Jod Learned the Truth

Gallgoid had many of the servants in the palace acting as his eyes and ears, but only a few of them knew he even existed. Those few were loyal, sworn to the service of King Ryons. Information was passed up the ladder from one servant to another until it reached Gallgoid. As he often reminded himself, “No matter how big the palace, the servants know everything.”

The crown he’d hidden in an unused wine cellar, in an empty cask. Merffin had his people searching for it frantically, but they would never find it. The whole business would have been richly entertaining, but some hapless peons had been rigorously questioned and abused, and that was not amusing.

Although he’d stolen the crown, he hadn’t stolen Jack and didn’t know who had.

“He just vanished from the room where they were keeping him, while that man from the Temple who was in charge of him was sleeping,” an agent reported to him in the morning. She was the maid who brought the council’s guests their meals. No one ever gave her a second glance. “They’re trying to keep it a secret, but the new First Prester is very much upset.”

“Keep me informed,” Gallgoid said, and sent her away before anyone would miss her.

The man from the Temple, he knew, was Martis. Why Goryk Gillow had brought Jack to the palace and kept him under lock and key, he didn’t know.

How had Martis managed to make the boy vanish? And why?

“It’s a dangerous game you play, assassin,” he thought. “But you’re no stranger to such games, are you?”

“Jayce,” said Goryk, “I don’t see how you could have let this happen.”

They’d just finished another search of Martis’ room, he and Goryk and Zo. Merffin had his hands full with the missing crown and the need to make a substitute, and hadn’t joined him. He hadn’t yet been told of Jack’s disappearance.

“I’m at a loss, First Prester,” Martis said. “As you’ve seen, there’s no way out of this room except the door, which was locked and guarded all night.”

“The window?” Mardar Zo said.

“The boy is not a bird, that he can fly,” Martis said. “And my bed is close to the window. I would have heard it, if he’d gotten up and undone the shutters. I’m a light sleeper.”

“Maybe last night you slept soundly.”

“And maybe, Mardar, there was something in my last cup of wine to make me sleep so soundly. Maybe whoever stole the crown was able to steal the boy, too. Maybe they lowered him out of the window on a rope. That’s the only way it could have been done.”

Goryk tried to stare him down, looking into his eyes for traces of a lie. But Martis was Lord Reesh’s pupil: he’d lied men into their graves. He met Goryk’s stare with a bland innocence he’d studied hard to cultivate.

“Sir, I’m not familiar with the palace,” he said. “I have no idea where Jack could be. I worked hard to tutor him. I believe he would have served our purpose well. But it seems there’s someone in this palace who has a plan to stop the coronation.”

“We still have the real king we can crown,” Goryk said, “although I’d rather he wasn’t in Prester Jod’s hands.”

“Of one thing you can be sure, Your Grace,” said Martis. “If Prester Jod brought the king to Obann to be crowned, then crowned he’ll be.”

Goryk laughed. “They say that Jod’s an honest man! Well, even an honest man can have his uses.”