"I thought I heard familiar voices!" called Kari, looking noticeably wan as she came out of her chamber into the main hall. "Seregil, you're hurt! Let me get my herbs."
"I'm fine," he assured her, easing down on a bench by the fire. "We slept at a garrison station last night. Their surgeon patched me up. I could do with a hot soak, though."
"I'll have Arna put some birch catkins and arnica leaves in the water to draw out the hurt. Some willow bark tea wouldn't do you any harm, either."
"She looks peaked," observed Seregil. "Been sick, has she?"
"Not sick, exactly," Micum replied, avoiding his friend's eye. "More like—unwell."
Seregil studied Micum's expression for an instant, then broke into a knowing grin. "I know that look. She's pregnant again, isn't she?"
"Well—"
"Oh, go on and tell them," she said, returning with a pair of mugs. "It's no use you trying to keep anything from him!"
"You are, then?" exclaimed Seregil.
"Bilairy's Balls, Micum, how long have you known?"
"She told me when I came home the other day. Baby's due at late summer, Maker willing."
"Maker willing," Kari repeated, pressing her palms to her apron front. "It doesn't always go well with me at the best of times, and I'm old now for bearing. I hadn't thought to be with child again, but Dalna must have seen we'd have room for one more." She smiled pensively. "Perhaps this time we've made a son. They say a boy makes you sicker in the first months."
"Poor thing's been vomiting morning and night," Micum explained, rising to slip a supportive arm around her waist.
"And I'm not feeling too pert just now," Kari sighed. "I'd better lie down again. The girls won't be troubling you. They're away for the day."
Micum helped Kari into her chamber and closed the door. When he returned, Seregil made a show of figuring back.
"My, my. Late summer, is it? That must have been quite a homecoming, back in Erasin."
"Better than you got, I'll warrant. If only she can hang on to this one, I wouldn't mind having another little one underfoot."
"Hang on to?" asked Alec.
"Oh, yes." Micum nodded sadly. "She's miscarried as many babies as she's brought to birth. The last time was a year or so after Illia was born. It always happens in the first few months, and leaves her sick for weeks afterward. We're not out of the danger season yet, you see, and it's a great worry to her. But let's get back to you two. What did they use on you, fuller's bats?"
"Rock slide," Seregil replied, serious again.
"Two men caught us at a narrow place on the cliffs. We got out, but I lost Scrub."
"That's a damned shame! He was a good old thing. But who were they?"
"We never had a chance to find out. We killed them both defending ourselves and lost the bodies over the cliff. But before that, one of them told Alec that they'd been sent by someone who didn't like us poking around in their business. This was after we'd finished in Cirna and found a link to Lady Kassarie."
Showing Micum the manifest, they quickly outlined what they'd discovered.
"That does seem to bring us right back to Kassarie,"
Micum agreed. "Do you think she tumbled to Alec that day?"
"I doubt it. At that point, I was still officially in prison and everything appeared to be going according to her plan. I hate to admit it, but they must have kept track of me after my «release» from the Tower."
"What's your next step?"
"We've got to go back to the keep," said Alec. "We can't give her time to realize her hired killers have disappeared."
"That's a fact," said Micum. "What do you think, Seregil? Will the Queen give you a raiding party, or will she just order Kassarie's arrest?"
"I've been thinking about that. The greatest danger lies in forewarning her. You've seen how that keep is placed; it's a fortress! She'd see an armed force coming miles away and have plenty of time to escape or do away with any incriminating evidence."
"That's true," Micum concurred, looking down at the fire.
It suddenly occurred to Seregil that Micum hadn't once offered to come.
He's needed here, he thought with a pang of the old resentment. Still, he knew Micum too well not to read the conflict in his friend's face, and it hurt to see it.
"Quick and quiet's the best way," he went on, giving no hint of his own feelings. "With any luck, Alec and I can get in and out again before anyone's the wiser. That servant girl is the key, if Alec can romance her."
"Just the two of you?"
"You and Nysander will know where we are," said Seregil. "I don't want it to go any further than that. We've had enough trouble with spies as it is."
Stopping just long enough for a bath and a hasty meal, Seregil and Alec were ready to move on by
noon.
Micum disappeared while they were harrassing the horses they'd left there on the way to Cirna.
He returned with a longsword.
"It's not so fine as yours, of course," he said, handing it to Seregil, "but it will do until yours is mended. I'll be easier in my mind, knowing you're armed."
Seregil ran his hand down the flat of the blade and smiled. "I remember this one. We brought it back for Beka from the Oronto raid."
"The very one." Micum looked down at the sword, his discomfort more evident than ever. "You know, I
suppose I could—"
Seregil cut him short with a farewell embrace.
"Stay put, my friend," he admonished, speaking softly against Micum's shoulder. "It's just a bit of fancy burglary. You know you're no use at that."
"Take care of yourselves then," Micum said gruffly.
"And have Nysander send me word, you hear?"
"I hear!" Laughing, Seregil swung up in the saddle. "Come on, Alec, before old Grandfather here worries himself grey!"
As they rode into the Orлska gardens, a familiar deep voice hailed them from the direction of the oak grove. Reining in, Seregil saw Hwerlu cantering out to meet them.
"Greetings, friends!" the centaur boomed. "It's been many days since you've visited me. I trust all is well with you?"
"Tolerably," replied Seregil, anxious to be off again. "We're just here long enough to see Nysander, actually."
"But you've missed him by a day."
"Missed him?" Alec asked. "You mean he's not here?"
"No, he and young Thero accompanied Lady Magyana to another city. Some place on the southern coast, I think."
"Damn!" muttered Seregil. "Come on, Wethis will know."
"They've gone to Port Ayrie with Lady Magyana," the young servant told them. "They shouldn't be gone more than a few days, though. You can put up here until he returns, if you like."
"Thanks, but we can't wait." Seregil pulled out the worn manifest and handed it to Wethis with a hastily scrawled note. "See that he gets this and tell him to contact Micum. Tell him I don't expect to be gone more than a few days myself."
Leaving their Aurлnfaie horses at the Orлska, they set off for the Cockerel.
"Shouldn't we wait for Nysander?" asked Alec dubiously. "You told Micum we'd speak to him first."
"The longer we wait, the more chance there is that Kassarie will get suspicious and put up extra defenses."
"I guess so, but it still leaves just you and me—"
"Illior's Fingers, Alec, it's just a simple matter of housebreaking, even if it is a keep. We'll probably get back before Nysander does."
Slipping quietly up the back stairs at the inn, they spent the night in their old rooms and set off the next morning in disguise.
Alec wore the same apprentice garb he'd used on their first visit to Kassarie's; Seregil was well muffled in the guise of a one-eyed traveling minstrel. Both carried daggers at their belts, but their I swords and Alec's dismantled bow were wrapped out of sight among the gear.
"This all hinges on you, you know," Seregil reminded Alec as caret they rode along. "It could take a couple of days of wooing before she agrees to let you in."