Mastiff (43 page)

The count went on, “I wish to verify your mission with Lord Gershom. Now, my own mage tells me, and Master Elyot, that for some reason, we are unable to communicate with any mages, even those nearby. Master Farmer, have you tried to do so?”

Farmer hung his head. It was not the Farmer I’d talked with all morning who replied. “It’s not my long suit, sir—”

I couldn’t help it. He’d sucked me into his silly games. I leaned close and whispered, “My
lord
!” loud enough that others could hear me. Sabine half turned and gave us a scowl while Prince Baird covered a grin with his hand.

“My lord,” Farmer said sheepishly as he shrugged at me. “I’ve not reached anyone I should be able to reach. Mayhap it’s like a storm, only in the realms where magic comes from?” He looked at Master Elyot as if that leech’s whelp would answer.

Master Elyot shrugged. “I don’t understand it, my lord, but these things do happen, and there are times when we never learn why. I am unable to reach His Highness’s mage at our home estates, let alone the Chancellor of Mages in Corus.”

“Then I will send horse messengers to Corus and to Arenaver,” the count said. “Since your documents claim the Deputy Provost there will also confirm your Hunt. It will be but a matter of a few days for word to return from Arenaver.”

Not with the marsh bridge down, and you know it, I thought. It was Lady Sabine who cried, “We informed you that the bridge over the marshes has been burned! It will be ten days at least before a courier returns, and who knows what will befall our quarry in that time?”

It was as if she had signaled the young ladies of the countess’s solar. They rose to their feet in twos and threes, Lewyth and Baylisa leading them as they rushed over to halt in front of us, facing the prince, the count, and the countess. As one they dropped to their knees and raised clasped hands to the nobles.

“Please, Highness, my lord and my lady, please do not hinder them any longer!” Lewyth said, her voice loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “Forgive our intrusion, we mean no harm or impertinence, but hear our plea!”

Another miss cried, “We know their Hunt! We know a poor lad of tender blood and rearing has been taken from his mother by villains and poorly used!”

It was Baylisa who begged, “In the name of the Gentle Mother, let them rescue that poor stolen lad!”

“In the name of the Gentle Mother we pray!” said the maidens, bending their heads over their hands.

“We don’t understand things like seals and politics.” That was another of the young ladies. “But surely a mother’s pain must override these worldly considerations. Surely a child’s agony must take first place in your hearts!”

I knelt down beside Achoo as if to keep her calm when, truth to tell, I wanted to bray like a mule with laughter. I hid my face in Achoo’s fur.
This
was Lady Sabine’s plan, the one that had led to that early-morning conversation with the young ladies! How had she known what to say that would work them into such a frenzy of devotion? Surely never in the ordinary course of things would they have spoken out before men, and in defiance of the count!

I glanced up. Farmer’s legs were quivering in his boots and his hands were clenched into fists behind his back. Don’t laugh, I begged him silently, with a glance at Tunstall. My partner was in the same condition. Whatever you do, don’t laugh, or you’ll ruin it.

“Mithros’s spear, Dewin, let Tunstall and his people go.” That was Prince Baird, to my surprise. He lounged in his great chair, a broad grin on his face. Mayhap he found this show in the name of the Gentle Mother nearabout as funny as we did. “I’ll vouch for the curst seals. I’ve known Lady Sabine all my life. She’d never lend her name to anything off center.”

“Highness,” the count protested, trying to convey what words would say with only a look.

His Highness sat up. “Let them go, I said.” All of a sudden he was royalty, and not used to having his words questioned. “It’s bad enough you’ve got me tied up in conversations here. At least these Dogs can get in a good day’s ride.”

There was naught the count could do. Prince Baird was his superior in rank, for all that a noble might be near as good as a king in his home domain. Moreover, if he and his friends were trying to talk the prince into being king, it would be a bad idea to offend him. I’d thought Baird was part of it all, when I found No-Skin’s trail in his rooms. Now I wondered. Why would Baird let us go, if he was in the conspiracy?

Tunstall dispatched Achoo, Pounce, and me to the stables to have our mounts made ready. Sabine assured me she would have our things packed, even my wet uniform, as soon as she thanked the damsels of the count’s household. I wished I could say farewell to Lewyth and the Butterfly Puppies, and to Fess, but thought that it would be easy to slip burs under saddles and easier still to draw cinches too loose. I ran for the stables.

The hostlers greeted me with nods and silence as I asked for our horses. When one lad went to place my riding saddle on Saucebox, I halted him. “Pack it, if you will,” I said, slipping him a coin. “I won’t be doing much riding today, if any.”

His eyes widened. “You walk as th’ others
ride
?” he asked. Everyone around us halted work to hear.

I smiled at him. He reminded me of my brothers, one a horse courier and one a hostler in the king’s own stables. “I don’t walk,” I said, and he relaxed a little. I added, “I run, ahead of them, with her.” I pointed to Achoo. Not realizing that she was supposed to uphold the dignity of the Provost’s Guard at just that moment, she lay on her back, paws in the air, as she wriggled and scratched herself in the dust. “She’s a scent hound,” I explained.

An older cove laughed and spat in the straw. “Yon’s no scent hound,” he said. “My lord and His Highness,
they’ve
got scent hounds for any kind a prey. Yon’s a bastard dog. Mebbe she’s got some water dog in her, with them curls, but them’s no scent hounds, neither.”

I shrugged. “Have it as you will,” I replied. “What have I to gain from lying?”

They had the horses ready when our men came with their belongings. They were settling the last of the packs when Sabine came with ours. The young ladies had insisted on bearing our old leather packs as if they were a knight’s vestments, which touched me. The hostlers accepted them with much bowing and tugging of forelocks, then loaded them on our horses. As I settled Pounce on one of the pack mares led by Tunstall, I noticed that the prince, the count, and the countess had come to see us off.

“Achoo,
kemari,
” I called. She came away from the Butterfly Puppies that had entered the courtyard with their mistresses and trotted over to me, her tail a-wag. She knew we were going back to work again. I slipped Prince Gareth’s loincloth from my belt pouch and let her sniff it vigorously. She greeted it with happy sneezes.

Countess Aeldra brought the stirrup cup, a traditional drink of farewell in noble houses. The countess offered it to Farmer, as was traditional when a mage was present, a gesture to the departing guests to let them know the cup wasn’t poisoned. With a nod Farmer drew a circle in the air over it. When the circle burned gold, showing there was no poison or magic in the cup, he bowed to her. Then the countess offered the cup to Sabine. I looked away so the nobles wouldn’t see me glare. Shouldn’t they have given it to Tunstall as our leader? But no, to these folk, blood would always count more than work. I looked back in time to see Sabine take a sip, then pass the cup to Tunstall with a smile. He gave her a smile in return, took a drink, then offered the cup to Farmer. I looked at the count and countess and happily noted the purpling of his face and the stiffening of her back. Farmer drank and offered the cup to me, but I shook my head. I did not need any mead in me so early in the day, and it was almost always mead in a stirrup cup.

“
Mencari
, Achoo,” I whispered while the count made a surly-sounding speech about a good end to our Hunt. Achoo began to sniff around for the trail, now a day old. She was bound for the outer courtyard as the count and countess walked back into their great hall without watching us go.

“Swive them,” Tunstall muttered. He said sommat else to my lady, but I did not remain to hear. I followed Achoo through the gate into the outer courtyard, across that, and on through the main gate. Halfway down the hill I glanced back. My companions were behind me. As I looked my last at Queensgrace Castle, I saw three coves observed us from the barbican. The tallest was Prince Baird. He was flanked by the brothers from Aspen Vale.

Ill fortune follow you all your days, I thought, then fixed my attention on Achoo. She was moving fast, giddy with the freedom of the road after her frustrating time inside those castle walls. I knew exactly how she felt.

Achoo turned northeast at the sign in the road, with the arrow directing travelers to
The Galla Highway, the Great Road North, Richcaffery
. I settled into my trot as we wove among folk coming to do business thereabouts. Achoo ignored them all, her nose and neck level. I thought of nothing but what I saw ahead of me and to either side. It was some way before we were beyond all sight of that great castle. I did not know how it had weighed on me until it was no longer visible off my left. I heaved a sigh. Never would I think of House Queensgrace without the reminder that my talk with Linnet and my gift of hand protectors had brought her to her death. She had not seemed to blame me, but I could not keep from blaming myself. Only when I saw Master Elyot and whoever did his strangling for him hanging from a gallows would I feel a small bit of relief.

I thrust my bitter thoughts from my mind and watched Achoo. I saw when she first stopped to sniff beside the road and knew she’d found the prince’s piss. She looked back at me, wagged her tail, and ran on. I noted the mess of browned grass and a bit of scummer without slowing my run.

I glanced back, but my companions were not within view, there being a ridge in the way. They traveled slower to make things easier for Lady Sabine’s horses while they could.

On we ran, Achoo and I, at our own steady pace in the warm early-summer sunshine. Folk in the fields waved as we passed, not knowing our business and not caring, or so I thought. They might ask their friends at night what they made of the woman in black, trotting after an ivory-colored hound, but unless they knew, we would remain an interesting curiosity.

We came to the intersection with the Great Road. Here our quarry had turned, bound due north. I left a trail sign at the nearest and farthest corners for Tunstall, though he could surely follow us with our Dog tags, and continued on my way. Here we kept to the right side of the great width of pressed earth, as those bound south kept to the left. The center of the road, the highest part of its gently curved surface, was reserved for the use of couriers. One of those passed me at the canter, headed south. She gave me a tip of the hat as she went by and I gave her a salute. I wondered if she knew of the mess that was the capital at present.

About four hours after I’d passed the courier, we reached one of the wayhouses kept on the Great Roads for travelers. I called Achoo to me and waited for our companions, who were not far behind us. Tunstall saw us hunkered down by the wall and led the way through the wayhouse gate. Once inside, he bought lunch for us all and a rubdown and bait for the horses.

We ate in silence outside the house, aware of the folk coming and going. Pounce decided I was in need of attention and spent the meal reclined across my shoulders, accepting the occasional tidbit. He complained loudly in cat when we got to our feet, and continued to do so, to other travelers’ amusement, until I climbed into Saucebox’s saddle. Once he realized that I meant to ride for a time, Pounce was quite willing to slide into the space between my lap and the saddle horn.

Much better
, he told me as we followed Achoo out the gate.
There is scant travel on the road ahead for some miles. If Farmer does as he should, you will be able to speak without fear of anyone overhearing
.

“You would think he was in charge, not Tunstall,” Farmer remarked.

“I thought he was,” Tunstall replied with a grin. “Beka, Achoo is on track?”

“Very much so,” I said, loud enough for the other three to hear. “She’s picked His Highness’s scent up twice where he stopped to pee,” I reported. “I don’t know why they haven’t taken him in the cart and made better time. Seemingly they’re still letting the slaves walk.”

“They had warning we were still on their track, and they left Queensgrace before we arrived,” Sabine replied. “They don’t feel they have to rush. They might now, once they hear the count wasn’t able to keep us there.”

“So that block on magical communication was only for us?” I asked.

“Not even for us anymore,” Tunstall said. “Farmer’s been talking with Lord Gershom all morning.”

I was almost afraid to ask, but I did so anyway. “Their Majesties?”

“The king shows himself and bluffs that he’s hale and angry and wants things done,” Farmer told me, his face hard with anger of his own. “Her Majesty is not well. Weary, Gershom says, and losing weight for all that she eats enough. Now that he knows we have Prince Gareth’s trail, he’s sending other teams to inspect the doings of Prince Baird, the houses of Queensgrace and Aspen Vale, and their known friends. There is already a team on its way to us from Frasrlund.”

“I’m glad we’re out of such hustle and bustle,” Tunstall said flatly. “Assignments and delegations, deciding who to investigate, who to arrest first—better for upcity Dogs to handle that. We’re the right team for this task. My lady shone today, Master Farmer has given what we know to Lord Gershom, I supply the ideas, and Cooper gets among those who won’t speak with anyone intimidating. Perfect.”

Farmer and my lady smiled at Tunstall, plainly flattered as all daylight by his words. I was pleased beyond measure that he’d made them feel good by his recognition of their work. Someday I might lead a team.

“There is one thing,” he told us as we prepared to go on. “Before our stay at Queensgrace we could assume no one knew we were on the road for this particular Hunt. Now powerful folk do not like what we did there. Assume we are followed and stay wary.”