Chapter 10

10

A feline can be a finicky comrade but a rewarding one.

~ Queen Henova

Kaylina found an aged donkey to rent to pull a tiny cart loaded with mead samples. She carried some of the most precious bottles in a padded bag hung over her shoulder, wanting them jostled as little as possible on the walk through the city. It would have been preferable if the wine steward had come to Stillguard Castle for a tasting, so the mead would have been properly rested and chilled in the root cellar, but that wouldn’t have gotten her in to see Vlerion.

More people were out in the streets than earlier in the day. Kaylina didn’t spot any sign of the fighting the rangers were worried about—not yet—but the kingdom subjects spoke in hushed tones, aside from protestors on several corners, who held up signs sharing political opinions. Very few were in support of the prince.

Replace the monarchy, one read.

Fairness and equality for all.

Time for a change, one read, making Kaylina think of the sentinel’s words. Change comes.

A little girl carried a sign that asked for Queen Petalira to become the next ruler.

Kaylina couldn’t get behind that one.

One reading, Vlerion Havartaft, the true heir, made her stumble and look twice.

If the spymaster, queen, and whoever else had been running things during Gavatorin’s reign had seen that sign, or others like it, that might explain why Vlerion had been dragged to the dungeon. It might have little to do with Milnor’s investigation and more to do with them worrying he would be a threat to their plans.

“Vlerion doesn’t even want that job,” Kaylina muttered, the bottles clinking softly as she led the donkey up the road ascending the plateau and toward the castle gate.

She had to find him before something dire happened. Unfortunately, Vlerion wouldn’t be in the kitchen with the wine steward. Earlier, she’d been joking when she’d said she would get the staff drunk so she could sneak off, but that might have to be her plan, unless chance gave her an opportunity to slip away and snoop.

Two guards stationed outside the gate watched her approach without expression. With the portcullis down, there was no chance she could amble inside unchecked, not that she’d expected that. The guards held blunderbusses in their arms in addition to having swords and daggers belted at their waists. They looked like they expected trouble.

Kaylina withdrew the invitation and waved it in the air before approaching the men. One of them sneered dismissively at the donkey and cart, as if certain she was a panhandler coming up to peddle wares. Well, dismissal was better than wariness or a call to arms, which was what she might have gotten if she’d ridden up on a taybarri.

“Nobody’s allowed into the castle today,” one guard told her, waving away her letter without looking at it.

“I’m delivering mead for the kitchen staff.” Kaylina held the invitation up, ignoring the wave. “It’s a tasting. They requested it.”

“Not today. The king passed. We’re in mourning.” The speaker squinted at her, as if her face was familiar and he was trying to place it.

“Hence the need for mead,” Kaylina hurried to say, hoping he wouldn’t identify her. “They want something appropriate for the funeral. Preparations have already begun, I assume.”

“What kind of mead maker wears a sword?” The other guard had been eyeing her.

“There are protestors and rebels and who knows what else in the streets, and I’m traveling alone. I’d be foolish not to wear a sword.”

Another guard wandered up to the gate from inside. He wore more rank on his collar and was older and scowling. He studied her through the bars.

Kaylina smiled sturdily, not prepared to give up, but what would she do if these guys wouldn’t let her in? She didn’t sense any meandering outdoor cats or dogs nearby that she might call upon, not that furry animals weaving between the guards’ legs would help in this situation.

She thought she sensed a cat inside—maybe in the kitchen?—but she didn’t know how far to trust her intuition. Still, she attempted to will the animal to tell the staff that an important visitor was outside. She promised it some of Frayvar’s smoked fish if it showed up at Stillguard Castle later. Whether it was let outside here, she didn’t know, but she didn’t have anything else to offer it.

“I know her,” the senior guard said.

“Is she trouble, sir? She looks like trouble.”

Kaylina touched her chest in innocence. She’d barely said anything. How could they have already labeled her as that?

“She’s the one who was accused of poisoning the queen and was a fugitive.”

“Yes, but I was cleared of that accusation. I’m a mere mead maker, and your own people have requested my presence.” Kaylina willed a greeting—and an image of a delicious goblet of chilled mead—in the direction of the kitchen, hoping one of the staff would come out to override the guards and let her in. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had much luck using her fledgling druid powers to influence human beings. “Technically, they don’t need me there for the tasting. I could write a few notes and wait outside, I suppose, but if they want to serve something excellent that conveys the right mood for the funeral, they’ll want to consult me.” She waved at the cart and hefted her own bottle-filled bag. “That’ll be a big event, won’t it? Important people from all around.”

“The taybarri queen vouched for her.” The senior guard’s tone was so gruff that Kaylina couldn’t tell if he meant the statement to exonerate her or as an accusation.

“Oh, yeaaaah,” one of the other guards said, the word drawn out with awe or maybe wonder. “It was so amazing when they came to the castle. They were beautiful. And I heard them speak into my mind, just like the legends say. Were you there for that, Drokon?”

“Yeah, the silver taybarri are gods-blessed, no doubt.”

“Come back tomorrow,” the senior guard told Kaylina. “Nobody’s allowed in today.”

Kaylina groped for something else to try. Maybe she should have brought Levitke with her after all. Though she might have had to paint the taybarri’s fur silver to be invited inside.

A door in the courtyard thudded open, and meows floated out. Cranky meows. Was that the cat she’d sensed?

Kaylina peered between the bars, trying to see what was happening, but the door was out of sight. The senior guard looked back as the meowing continued.

“Here, you little beast,” a woman said. “Quit complaining.”

A black cat with white socks trotted into the middle of the courtyard and sat down, looking at the gate. No, looking at Kaylina.

That prompted all three guards to frown at her. Maybe this hadn’t been the wisest use of her powers. But a gray-haired woman in a white apron walked into view and also peered through the gate.

“I have the mead for the tasting,” Kaylina called, though she’d never seen the woman before and had no idea if she had any knowledge of the invitation. “From Stillguard Castle.”

“Oh, that mead?” one of the guards outside said. “I got a taste of that the other night. Maxol stole some from Laverton, who had way more than he needed, and he let me have a sip. It was really good.” The guard, who’d previously sneered at the donkey and cart, looked at them with interest.

“Ah, the invitation,” the woman said. “I’d forgotten. The king…” She glanced toward the balcony that the king and queen had once walked out on to address the taybarri elders. “It’s a day of mourning, but… I wonder if any of those meads would be good at the funeral. We have instructions to make plans.”

“Most certainly,” Kaylina said. “I brought a couple of varieties with that in mind.”

“Oh, well, let her in, men. Please. The funeral meal is an event of paramount importance. Only the coronation of Prince Enrikon will require more thought and planning.”

The two outside guards made a face at the prince’s name as one relieved Kaylina of her sword. She twitched, not wanting to let it go, but she could understand why they wouldn’t allow her in armed.

“ King Enrikon,” the senior guard corrected and glared at his men as well as the woman.

She didn’t acknowledge the correction, only putting a fist on her hip and pointing at the portcullis.

“Isn’t that up for debate?” one guard whispered to the other as the senior man stepped back, ceding to the woman’s wishes. “The queen… I heard she had plans.”

“The queen always has plans. Nothing’s going to come of that.”

“The prince is her son. He’ll have to do what she says.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll pack her off to peel carrots in Potato Patch if she butts in.”

“I doubt he even knows where that is. There aren’t any racetracks or dice tables there, just crops.”

After the senior guard raised the portcullis, Kaylina led the donkey slowly into the courtyard, wanting to hear the men’s gossip. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have cared one way or another who ruled the kingdom, but seeing Vlerion’s name on that sign, and hearing people mention him as a possibility, made it much more personal. If Vlerion ended up killed because other people thought the Havartafts should return to the throne…

“This way, dear,” the woman said, almost tripping over the cat as she turned to lead Kaylina toward the door. “I’m Chef Anja, and I’ll take you to the wine steward.”

“Thank you.”

The cat had stopped meowing but rose, evading the chef’s feet to amble over and walk beside Kaylina. She would have to remember to put fish out for it later, to go with the milk she’d been leaving out for the first cat who’d helped her—and the twenty or thirty strays that were coming by regularly to avail themselves of the offerings.

“You’re a strange beast,” the chef told it, then waved at a stable boy, who was sneering dismissively at the donkey, much as the guard had done. Maybe only taybarri and pedigreed horses were allowed in the courtyard of the royal castle.

“Cats are independent sorts,” Kaylina offered, hoping the woman wouldn’t think to associate magic with its antics.

“That’s a certainty.”

The stable boy unhitched the cart and unloaded the two crates of mead it carried. A pair of servants came to take them, as well as the bag Kaylina carried, and they followed Kaylina and the chef inside.

As they walked, Kaylina looked all around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vlerion, but she didn’t expect it. He could already be in the dungeon deep in the plateau under the castle. Even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t likely run into him down this narrow hallway, visited more by the staff than residents and guests.

The chef led her past supply closets, storage rooms, and a huge pantry with so many exotic spices that Frayvar would have either fainted from being overwhelmed or leaped inside, eager to organize them.

When they entered the kitchen, heat rolling off stoves and a hearth browning flat bread, the chef waved grandly to a corner with a table where Kaylina could set up. Several staff made pleased exclamations when the mead bottles were unloaded from the crates. Maybe this had been discussed before the wine steward had extended the invitation.

“At least getting them drunk shouldn’t be that hard,” Kaylina murmured as someone brought over crystal goblets.

“The prince is here!” came a cry from the hallway. A young maid stuck her head into the kitchen. “The queen’s ordered him to attend her. Right away. They’re going to the lilac parlor!”

Kaylina assumed the information was given so the kitchen workers could prepare drinks and snacks, and several of the staff did spring to pantries and cupboards, but several others ran toward the maid. She held a finger to her lips and gestured for them to follow.

“I’ll be right back,” Kaylina said to the young man setting out goblets and lining up her bottles of mead.

He blinked at her.

She held up a finger in the same gesture the maid had used, then hurried after the other staff. They’d already disappeared into the hall, but she was in time to see the last person dart behind a tall cabinet of dishes that opened outward to reveal a secret door. It started to swing shut on hinges, but Kaylina made it and joined the whispering people heading down a narrow passageway between stone walls. Light seeped in from cracks near the ceiling and in spots with other hidden doors.

Kaylina tried not to make any noise, but when someone glanced back and saw her, she didn’t say anything. The woman only grinned and held a finger to her lips, as the maid in the lead had. Kaylina had either been accepted into the pack of castle staff, or it was too dark for them to realize she wasn’t one of them.

The group slowed as several people in the front whispered ssh and crept forward in silence. Someone in the lead eased a sliding bookcase aside a couple of inches, the spot reminding Kaylina of the secret door in Captain Targon’s office. This city was overflowing with secret passageways.

“Mother,” came a stern male voice from a spacious room that did indeed have lilac-painted walls. That was all Kaylina could see through the gap. “I don’t know why you’re presuming to tell me what to do. I’ll certainly take your suggestions under advisement, but I am a grown man.”

“You haven’t been acting like one for the last ten years,” Queen Petalira said. “How many women did you bring back with you in that ridiculous carriage with the mattress in it? And how much of the kingdom’s money did you lose gambling on the racetracks and arenas this past month?”

“Neither is any concern of yours, nor will my hobbies affect how I rule my kingdom.”

“Your father’s will hasn’t been read yet. You’re making assumptions.”

“I’m the only heir, Mother. Unless he was a randier old man than I assumed. I know his first marriage didn’t result in children.”

In the dark passageway, the staff scarcely breathed as they listened in. The way they hunched forward, hands on their knees and ears cocked toward the door, all having made room for the others, as if they’d practiced this, made Kaylina suspect she wasn’t the only regular eavesdropper in the group. To think, Vlerion and Targon had implied she was odd for listening in on conversations.

Admittedly, she didn’t care that much about hearing these two insult each other. She only wanted to know if Vlerion’s name came up and hoped to learn where in the castle he was being held.

“He was randier than you’d think,” the queen said tartly. “He may very well have other heirs stashed away. Don’t make assumptions.”

“ I’m his designated heir, Mother. He told me back before he went daft from old age. You’re welcome to stay around and enjoy the life you’ve been privileged to have here?—”

“As if I’m the only one who’s enjoyed privilege. Don’t think I don’t know you constantly had Financier Falgor send you money from the king’s coffers.”

“I am the heir, and I had a right to that money. I have a right to all of it. This is my kingdom, Mother, and you’ll not nag me. Not if you want to stay here and enjoy your life of ease.”

“Being your mother isn’t as much ease as you’d think.”

The prince scoffed. Kaylina had never met the guy—or even seen him yet—but she already didn’t like him. Maybe he was the reason Spymaster Sabor and however many others had been scheming for control. Maybe they’d even plotted the prince’s demise.

“Don’t be melodramatic, Mother. Your role here isn’t that significant.”

“How lovely of you to assume so when you’ve barely been in the capital these past ten years.”

“It’s dreadful and cold here. Why our ancestors—no, why the Havartafts—thought all those years ago it was a good idea to move the seat of power to this frigid mountain land, I don’t know.”

“The gold, dear,” Petalira said.

“Gold can be exported, Mother.”

They fell silent, and a couple of the women in the shadows glanced at each other. Afraid the queen and prince had realized the bookcase had been moved and they had eavesdroppers?

Petalira sighed loudly enough that they heard it in the hall. “Why don’t you get some food and rest, and we’ll talk more later? You’ll want to pay your respects to your father, I’m sure.”

“Yes, the entire trip here, I couldn’t wait to look at a corpse. Really, Mother. He hadn’t spoken to me in ten years. I?—”

Someone knocked at the parlor door. Kaylina almost jumped. She imagined guards storming in to tell the queen and prince about the eavesdroppers in the secret passageway.

“My pardon for the intrusion,” a familiar male voice said. Was that Milnor?

A couple of Kaylina’s fellow eavesdroppers stiffened, and two backed up, almost bumping into her. Did they want to leave? Yes, several patted her and the wall as they retreated.

They didn’t move so quickly that Kaylina thought they believed they were about to be caught. Maybe they simply knew better than to spy on a spymaster?

Kaylina flattened herself to the wall, having no intention of missing Milnor’s report. She would cheerfully eavesdrop on anyone.

“Who are you?” Enrikon asked in a flat tone.

“That’s Milnor,” Petalira said. “Spymaster Sabor’s successor.”

“What happened to Sabor?”

“We’ll update you later,” Petalira said.

Kaylina wished the queen would share the update now, one that would reveal what they believed had happened that night.

The prince grunted but was probably tired after his travels, because he didn’t object to leaving. By the time Petalira was alone in the parlor with Milnor, Kaylina’s co-eavesdroppers had disappeared.

She wavered, knowing she should hurry out as well. In the dark, the staff might not have realized she wasn’t one of them, but she was sure to be missed when everyone returned to the kitchen, and they couldn’t find the mead lady…

But Milnor started speaking, and Kaylina inched closer to the bookcase opening. If he brought up Vlerion, and revealed where in the castle he was, Kaylina would abandon her mead to find him. Once she rescued him, they could find a way out together, fighting back-to-back through the courtyard if they needed.

“I’ve got Vlerion, Your Majesty,” Milnor said politely, not snubbing her because her husband was gone.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“What do you want me to do with him?”

Petalira sighed. “I don’t know right now. He’s never shown any interest in taking back the throne—my understanding is that none of the Havartaft men have—but it’s hard not to see him as a threat right now. I always thought it would be best if he didn’t exist, if that entire line ended. But my husband was afraid of him—afraid to cross him.”

Milnor hesitated. “Do you know the reason why, Your Majesty?”

“I know about the curse, yes. Yet another reason he’s a threat.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m certain I can… end that threat, but you should let me know soon if that’s what you wish. I feel obligated to point out that once Enrikon is coronated, I’ll be bound by duty and honor to obey his wishes.”

“I doubt he cares one way or another what happens to Vlerion Havartaft. If they’ve spoken more than five times, I don’t know about it.” Petalira’s tone turned dry. Or maybe bitter. “I am wounded to hear that you won’t be bound to obey my commands anymore after that.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but you are not…”

“Yes, yes, I’m just the woman who endured Gavatorin in her bed for thirty years and bore him an heir. I’m a nobody.”

“Not that, surely, but… you are not in charge.”

“Of anything anymore. Your reminder is a blade to the heart.”

“My apologies,” Milnor repeated.

“Sabor and I worked together for a long time. He would not have cast me aside. He acknowledged I could have a role in his plans.”

“I don’t have plans, Your Majesty. Other than to do the duty I was trained for, that which I took an oath to do.”

Kaylina could have respected him for that—if he hadn’t been threatening to make Vlerion disappear.

Milnor lowered his voice and added, “I do plan to avenge my predecessor’s death.”

Kaylina grimaced. That was another reason she couldn’t respect this guy. Sabor had been an ass who’d deserved what he got and didn’t warrant avenging . All she regretted was that there would be consequences. She had to make sure those consequences didn’t fall onto Vlerion’s head.

She leaned closer to the opening, wishing they would say where Vlerion was. The dungeon under the castle? Her skin crawled at the idea of going down there again, but she would if?—

A cool steel blade pressed against her throat an instant before a strong hand gripped her arm.

Shit.