The White Robe (33 page)

The guards closed the door behind her and stood to attention in front of their captain. “Guard her well and make sure she reaches her destination. Once she’s there it is up to the beast if she lives or dies, I don’t think my master will care which, just make certain that she never returns to Leersland.”

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Old Lives for New

Jonderill rode through the wide open gates of Alewinder and didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. Everything was so familiar and yet it was so different. When he had left the city he thought he would never return, but here he was, riding through the streets, wearing the robes of a magician and acting as if he had every right to be here. He even had an armed escort, and not just any armsmen, but a protector in full armour. People stopped to stare at the procession with the protector in the front and the two armsmen riding behind, one of them heavily bandaged and slumped over his horse. Jonderill kept his eyes fixed on Allowyn’s back and tried to ignore the whispers of surprise and the people who bowed to him as he rode by.

They rode passed all the places he knew so well; the market he went to each day to buy eggs for their breakfast, the apothecary where he bought powders and potions for Animus’s latest experiment, and the scriptorium where he took Plantagenet’s notes for copying. He rode passed the Soldiers Rest where he and Barrin had drunk ale together, and finally over the moat bridge where he had saved the life of the Swordmaster’s nephew. Everything was familiar, but that was when he had been little better than a slave; now he was a white robe and everything had changed.

The small procession passed through the palace gates, clattering into the cobbled courtyard and stablemen hurried forward to take the horse’s reins. For a moment he expected to see Tarris, but of course he wasn’t there anymore; he had died at Jonderill’s hand over four summers before. He wondered if the Princess… No, the Queen would remember him and what he had done. It was a foolish question and he laughed at himself. Of course she would remember him; he had stolen four summers of her life, not to mention true love’s first kiss. He dismounted and waited for Dozo to help Tissian, who was still heavily bandaged, down from his horse, before he joined Allowyn at the foot of the palace steps.

Allowyn gave him a knowing smile, “You shouldn’t be nervous, Jonderill. This is your home and you’re amongst friends here.”

The words didn’t help much. If it had been Daun or Pellum’s choice, he would have paid a heavy price for his part in kidnapping the princess, even if it did save her from Maladran’s enchantment. It was only King Steppen’s timely intervention which had saved him, but he wasn’t the king of Vinmore anymore.

When the doors of the palace opened it wasn’t the Queen or her consort who came to greet them, but the tall magician in white who Jonderill remembered from his apprentice day trial. He stood at the top of the steps, looked at Allowyn and then at Jonderill and then back to Allowyn again, giving him a smile of pure delight. Allowyn dropped to his knee and bowed as Callabris almost bounded down the steps to greet him, pulling him from his obeisance and wrapping him in a warm embrace. For a moment Jonderill felt jealous and wished that he had someone who would greet him like that.

“Allowyn, you are here at last. I thought something terrible must have happened to you. We’ve been separated and out of each other’s presence for far too long and I will not let that happen again.”

The protector stepped back from the magician’s embrace with a broad smile on his face and looked relieved to be back with his master. He beckoned to Jonderill and he nervously stepped forward. “Lord, this is Jonderill who has at last grown into the robe you gave to him.”

Callabris looked him up and down and laughed. “I think it is the robe which has grown into him. Jonderill, you are welcome, I have waited a long time to see the man you would be. I can see now that my hopes for you were not misplaced.”

“My Lord Callabris,” said Jonderill bowing deeply.

“No, not lord, just Callabris, we are of one family now. I look forward to spending time with you like brothers, talking about our calling and the other things we have in common.” He gave Allowyn a mischievous grin, “It’ll make a change from hearing about the latest weapons, fighting techniques and the newest pot maid at the city inn. Now tell me, who are your companions?”

“This is Dozo, an armsman from the Enclave who has been of great service to us, and who, I regret, through no fault of his own, cannot return to the Enclave so seeks a new position, and Tissian, Jonderill’s protector.”

Callabris raised an eyebrow. “Ah, Allowyn, he reminds me of you and your brother when you were his age, always cut and bloodied from one fight or another. Come, I have a small suite of rooms just big enough to hold us all if we all breathe in at the same time. However I regret that we will have to find alternative sleeping accommodation for most of you; the hospitality here is not what it was in Steppen’s day.”

For a moment his smile disappeared and he gave Allowyn a brief look of concern. “Once you are rested, Jonderill, you’ll need to pay your respects to the Queen and Pellum; that’s if he has returned from the latest hunting trip, and I expect there are others you would wish to see.” He turned and led the way up the steps of the palace and the others followed behind.

In all the time that Jonderill had spent in Alewinder as the magician’s apprentice, he had only been into the main part of the palace a handful of times. The last occasion had been when he had woken the princess with a kiss, and she had ordered his arrest and imprisonment. It was not a happy memory. Despite this, Jonderill couldn’t help being awed by the splendour of the palace with its walls the colour of fresh honey bedecked with rich tapestries, and he tried hard not to gawk like a page boy at his first banquet. They turned a corner into what Jonderill thought must be the guest wing and stopped as there was a commotion up ahead.

Two elderly men, one tall and thin and the other small and round bustled along the corridor towards them pushing passed two maids who were sweeping the floor, bowling over another who was carrying a bundle of linens and ignoring Callabris completely. They both threw their arms around Jonderill nearly knocking him from his feet. He hadn’t been sure how he would feel when he saw his two old masters again, but his tears of joy were mingled with theirs. After a few moments they disentangled themselves with much laughing and very little dignity and stood there grinning at each other like fools.

It was Plantagenet who regained control of himself first. “My apologies, Lord Callabris, we have only just heard of Jonderill’s return and we wanted to get here before the Queen’s guards.”

“She wasn’t very pleased when she heard that you were back,” put in Animus, “so we thought that if we warned you, you could take a short cut to her rooms so you could get to her first, which would look better than turning up with guards all around you.”

“That was good thinking,” said Allowyn, “but I don’t think we should all go marching in on her. With what we have to tell Pellum, it wouldn’t be a good idea for Tissian to be present, especially in his current state.”

Tissian took a belligerent step forward. “I cannot let my master go into danger without me at his side.”

Callabris put a gently restraining hand on his arm and Tissian slumped slightly. “It’s all right, young fighting cock. Allowyn can protect us all until your strength has returned.” He pulled out a small key from inside the sleeve of his robe. “My rooms are at the end of the corridor and I have removed the ward on my door. Dozo, would you take Tissian there and lock the door behind you until I return. Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to lead the way, let’s go and see what her majesty has to say for herself before she forgets all protocol and her manners, and offends two visiting white robes.”

Plantagenet and Animus turned and hurried away along the corridor with the tall magician taking long strides and Animus bouncing along behind him. Callabris followed behind and Jonderill and Allowyn brought up the rear. At the end of the corridor they turned left down a narrower, less well appointed passageway, and then instead of taking some marble steps upwards, they ducked into the recess behind them. Here there were some well worn stone steps which went downwards and emptied into a pantry area. Tables lined one side of the small room and several trays held platters of delicate pastries, cut fruit and small flagons of cordial. The smell of baking bread and the clatter of pots came from nearby nudging at Jonderill’s memory. He had been to this room many times to collect treats for his masters’ afternoon tea.

They hurried through the room and out into the next corridor with Animus picking up a soft, flaky pastry as they passed by. The service corridor led to another flight of stone stairs and another passageway with a solid wooden door at its end. Plantagenet stopped and straightened his robes and Animus brushed pastry crumbs from his fingers. They both gave Jonderill an anxious look before Plantagenet gave a sharp knock on the door in front of them.

A liveried guard carrying a long pike opened the door and frowned at them. He went to bar their way with his pike staff but then stepped back with a grin on his face and looking slightly dazed. Callabris, who had hold of his arm, eased him backwards and propped him up against the wall before waving everyone else on. They marched up a corridor and around the corner where four heavily armed guards protected a small hallway with three doors leading off it. Jonderill knew that the centre door led to the Queen’s receiving room, although he had only been there once. On that memorable occasion, Daun had accused him of being Sarrat’s spy and Maladran’s catamite.

Plantagenet came to a stop in front of the squad leader and pulled himself up to his full height. “We’ve come to see the Queen.”

The guard looked him up and down with a sneer on his face. “Well the Queen doesn’t want to see you or your fat friend there so beat it!”

Plantagenet deflated and took a hesitant step back. As he did so Callabris took his place with his protector one step behind him.

“The Queen may not want to see my friends but she will see me and whoever I decide to bring with me. Now tell the Queen that I require an immediate audience.”

The squad leader turned pale. Dismissing the two old magicians was one thing, but refusing access to a white robe was a completely different matter. He bowed deeply and hurried away. The group stood quietly waiting for his return, Callabris tapping his foot impatiently and Jonderill trying to console the affronted Plantagenet. Callabris’s impatience grew the longer he was kept waiting, and he was just about to storm into the Queen’s rooms without waiting any longer when the guard returned.

He bowed low. “Their majesties will see you now, but your armsman and the two old magicians are to wait here.”

“My protector stays at my side as do my friends. Now get out of my way.”

Callabris pushed passed the squad leader who stepped hastily back from Allowyn as the protector waited for the others to file through into the receiving room. He followed them in and closed the door behind them before taking his customary place to the side and one step back from his master.

Jonderill remained at the back of the group looking around the room and fighting back unpleasant memories, even though the room had changed since his summons here. There were more tapestries on the walls and more ornaments on the tables and dressers. The polished wooden floor had been covered over by a deep, richly patterned carpet and even the simple lantern brackets had been replaced by silver candle holders with dangling glass crystals. Where once there had been an assortment of soft chairs and couches spread around the room, there were now only two chairs, both carved ebon wood raised on a slight platform. Prince Pellum, the royal consort, slouched in one and Queen Daun sat bolt upright in the other glaring at Callabris.

As Jonderill studied the Queen, he wasn’t sure how he felt about her. She was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and just looking at her made his heart race. He had cherished the memory of their time together in the woodsman’s cottage, and that one and only kiss, but now there was something about her which made his blood run cold. It was in the grim set of her mouth and the cold, calculating look in her eyes and the way in which she toyed with the small dagger in her hands. He had envied Pellum for what the Prince had taken from him, but now he felt a sudden relief at his escape. The feeling made him smile to himself and stand up straighter.