Assassin’s Fate

‘No.’ The leader’s reply was terse. ‘You’re joining us. We’re to search every chamber on this level for the escaped prisoner. Rewtor and his troops are searching the cottages and gardens. Kilp’s have taken the grounds between the stronghouse and the castle walls. And Coultrie’s rousting out his special lads.’

‘Whole damn place is on edge since Symphe was killed. Wish they’d done a better job on Vindeliar.’ The guardswoman brayed out a laugh. ‘Ferb and I had the honour to toss Dwalia into the cesspit. Ferb took a piss on her. Nasty old bitch looked better dead.’

The leader was not amused. ‘Let’s go. Every room on this level is to be checked, and every door locked behind us. If no luck, we move up to the next level. No one gets past us.’

‘I bet it was one of the Whites did Dwalia. Those little snakes have no reason to like her. And Symphe? I think she was an accident. I heard they did some work on Vindeliar to try to get the truth out of him. He was chained there, he had to have seen what happened. They should just make him talk! I wouldn’t mind watching that.’

‘Let’s go!’ Their leader was plainly annoyed with the chatter and dawdling. The footsteps moved off. I waited until I heard a door close.

The Fool spoke three words into the silence. ‘Dwalia is dead.’ I could not read his sentiment. Was he glad, or less fearful, or regretful that he had not had the chance to be present at her death? Maybe all those things, or none of them.

‘Prilkop is in a cell in there. And three others.’

‘He may know what they did with Bee. He was caged beside her.’

Those were, perhaps, the only words that could have made me delay for him. ‘Lant, take Per. Guard the next door. I know they locked it; it doesn’t mean they won’t be back. Spark, Fool, with me.’ I eased the door open and like shadows we moved to our targets. I gestured to Prilkop’s cell and Spark and the Fool hurried to it while I seized one of the pot-lamps and brought it over. I did not want the other prisoners to awake, nor to free them. They were factors beyond my control and I already had too many of those.

As Spark went to work on the lock on his cell, the Fool softly called, ‘Prilkop, wake up.’

The big man had been curled in a ball, his arms and hand coiled protectively over his head. At the Fool’s second call, he dropped his hands and lifted his head. One eye was swollen shut and his lower lip was as fat as a sausage. He stared. Painfully, he uncurled and set his feet to the cell floor. As he shuffled toward us, I heard chains clank.

‘Where is Bee?’ I demanded of him.

His good eye found me and wandered over my face. He gave a small nod to himself. ‘The Unexpected Son. But I expected you.’ He coughed out a small laugh. ‘The upper cells were where I saw her last. Is this another rescue?’

‘It is.’ I turned.

Behind me, I heard him say, ‘I hope this one is better than the last one.’ As I moved away he called, more loudly than I liked, ‘There are others up there in those rooftop cells. Free them.’

‘Fitz?’ Spark whisper-shouted after me.

‘Free him. Then search for the hidden tunnel. I’ll be back with Bee.’

I didn’t wait for their objections. I crossed the room at a run. ‘Give me some space,’ I whispered to Lant and Per as I drew out my own lock picks. It was dark, but Chade had made me practise endlessly by touch. I wordlessly thanked the old man as I probed, pushed, and levered until I heard the satisfaction of a latch giving way. ‘Stay back,’ I warned the others.

Again, I eased a door open and peered out. It was the guards’ chamber. A table, four chairs. Dice abandoned beside a half-eaten peach and three cups. I slipped into the room. There was fading warmth on the chair, and the fruit looked freshly bitten. I went back to the others.

‘Come, but quietly. The guards from this chamber were called away. I fear the whole castle is alerted. They’re searching for an escaped prisoner.’

Another door, another lock, but I picked it quickly. Again, I cautioned them to wait and eased a tall, heavy door open. I peered in both directions down a long curving corridor with many doors. There was no one in sight. On shelves at intervals fat lamps burned some fragrant oil. All was calm.

It was jolting to step from a place of bars and torture and bored guards into a gently-lit corridor, panelled in a white wood I’d never seen before, the floor meticulously clean, with framed portraits on the wall. It was like stepping from a nightmare into a dream.