“This is the home of the Governor’s Guards and the company of City Guards that is stationed here,” Durne told her. “The barracks are there.” He pointed to a long stone building built over an undercroft used for storage. “The armory is to your right. Meals are available in the kitchen from daybreak until midnight. Don’t ask for anything after that or the head cook will put you to work scouring pans.”
Linsha crossed her arms. “Huh. I don’t do kitchen work.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound of amusement. “Then stay on Cook’s good side. He’s a mean one with a carving knife. Captain Omat is in charge of recruits. He’ll show you to your quarters when you return and issue you a new uniform. Be prompt. We have a great deal of work to do tonight.” He slapped her on the shoulder, turned on his heel, and was gone before she could think of anything else to ask.
Linsha took a deep breath. This was happening so quickly, she hardly knew what to think. The lack of sleep didn’t help either, and neither did the heat nor the nearly eighteen hours on patrol. She felt sluggish, as if someone had smothered her in a hot, heavy cloak. She couldn’t think of more than one thing at a time, so first she decided to collect her gear and Windcatcher. Food and rest could come later.
After asking directions several times, she found her way out to the pylon gate and the road down to the city. First she stopped at the livery stable and retrieved Windcatcher and her saddle. The stable owner, seeing her uniform, insisted on chatting with her about the search for the missing sailor and the growing apprehension along the docks. Linsha said nothing about Lord Bight’s plans. She listened to the owner’s talk, nodded at the appropriate places, and paid him for the unfinished week of the mare’s care. He told her to come back anytime.
Leading the mare, she hurried to Elenor’s house. She didn’t look forward to this parting, but at least she would still he in the city and could stop to see the old lady once in a while.
Elenor felt the same way. She was both delighted for Linsha’s change of fortune and sad to see her go.
“I will miss you so. You have been such good company,” Elenor said while she helped Linsha pack. “Now, you must stay and have a quick meal with me. No, don’t argue. You look all done in. Food will do you good.”
As soon as she bustled downstairs, Linsha sat with a thump on the chair. “What am I going to do with you?” she groaned to Varia when the owl slipped out of her hiding place.
The owl didn’t seem the least bit concerned. “Is there a stable?” At Linsha’s affirmative, she nodded her head, and her small feathered “ears” popped up, a sure sign of the owl’s excitement. “I can make myself at home in the stable. No one needs to know you are with me. People here consider owls to be good luck.”
Linsha nodded wearily, glad that problem was easily solved. “We’ll meet in the woods if need be. Will you fly to Lady Karine and tell her what has happened? I won’t have time.”
“Of course.”
The lady Knight gathered her meager belongings together and loaded the bundles on her mare. Elenor had a simple meal fixed for her—cold meat, warm bread, cheese, and vegetables from the small garden.
They chatted quietly while they ate until after supper, when Elenor wrapped a few honey cakes for Linsha to take with her.
“I missed you this morning. I baked these cakes for Cobb’s order and saved some for you. I took the rest to the Dancing Bear this morning. You should have seen Cobb. My lands, he was all in a dither.”
Linsha tried to pay attention, but she was too tired. The proprietor of the Dancing Bear was often in a dither.
“One of his serving girls didn’t show up, and the other kept running upstairs and down to take care of some sailor she had her sights set on. Cobb said the young man was sick, and he was most annoyed that the boy took ill in his inn.”
A cold chill crept through Linsha’s thoughts and brought her fully alert. “Elenor, did anyone say what was wrong with the sailor? Or where he came from?”
The older woman pursed her thin lips. “Not that I recall. Cobb was busy serving customers and taking deliveries. He barely had time to pay me.”
“Elenor,” Linsha said, jumping to her feet, “I must go. Listen carefully. Don’t go back to the Dancing Bear or anywhere near the harbor until you hear from me or the town criers that all is well.”
Elenor put her hand to her mouth as the same horrid suspicion occurred to her. “The missing sailor? Oh, you don’t think…” Her soft eyes blinked rapidly in growing concern. “But why wouldn’t Cobb tell someone?”
“I don’t know. Fear, I guess. Didn’t want to frighten off his customers. I know one patrol checked there in the afternoon and didn’t find the sailor.”
Although Elenor looked nothing like Linsha’s tall, fiery-haired grandmother, at that moment Linsha saw the same determined, self-assured, don’t-worry-about-me expression she had seen many times in Tika’s face. Elenor pressed the wrapped cakes into her hand and walked with her toward the door. “I know you must leave. Keep a sharp eye out for Lord Bight and yourself. I’ll miss our morning teas.”
“Remember what I said.”
“Of course, dear.” Elenor paused and gave her hug. “There will always be room here for you.”
Linsha waved once and mounted Windcatcher. The mare, eager for exercise, broke into a trot and maintained her pace all the way back to the Governor’s Palace. When Linsha finally reined her to a walk by the gateway into the courtyard, the mare was sweating but breathing normally.
Torches burned on the walls and at the gate, and the court seethed with activity. The sentries let Linsha pass, directing her toward the stables. She glanced around, wondering what was happening. Horses were being saddled, and mounted guards in their red and black uniforms were forming into squads. Grooms ran back and forth carrying equipment and more torches. Could all this be for Lord Bight’s visit to the docks?
Before she reached the stable, Commander Durne intercepted her.
“Lynn, you’re late,” he growled.
“Commander, I think I know where the lost sailor might be,” she said hurriedly as she dismounted, and she told him quickly of the conversation with her landlady.
“By Takhisis!” he snapped. “If this is true, we may have to quarantine the entire inn staff. They won’t like that!” he added dryly.
At his command, a stableboy appeared and helped Linsha unload her horse. “Take her gear to her quarters. Second level. Beside Shanron,” ordered the commander. “Mount up, Lynn. We’re riding with the governor.”
He mounted his own horse, and together they rode to join Lord Bight, who sat astride a large, muscular sorrel. The governor had donned a light mail shirt and a golden cloak but had refused any armor. The only weapon he carried was his sword, a broad, double-bladed battle sword big enough to decapitate a small dragon.
His lack of weapons was not copied by his guards, Linsha observed. Two squads of six riders each fell into formation before and behind the governor’s party, and each rider was armed to the teeth with spears, short swords, and daggers. Two in each squad carried crossbows and two had axes. All wore breastplates, greaves, and helmets. A flag bearer carried the governor’s flag.
Commander Durne, with Linsha in tow, joined the governor and two other officers, and he told Lord Bight the gist of Linsha’s information.
“Good. Send two squads to the docks to prepare the ship for firing. We’ll go to this inn first,” Lord Bight told his captains. “If a body is there, it will have to be burned.”
At his signal, a horn blared and the horses sprang forward.
With a clatter of hooves and the rattle of armor, the governor and his escort trotted down the hill into the city. A bronze dusk was falling over Sanction. There was no wind to stir the dust on the roads or the smoke from a thousand dying oven fires. The smell of dung and refuse was strong. Steam and smoke from the smoldering volcano hung over the peak like brooding storm clouds and glowed in the setting sun with a fiery patina of copper.