A thin, pockmarked girl of seventeen or so staggered out of a pantry room with an immense ham in her arms. "What is it now, Auntie? I's just out to boil the ham as you told me."
"Put that aside for a moment and set this lad up in the chimney nook with a bite of tucker. There's some rabbit pie at the back of the larder needs eating. That'll do well enough for him."
Retreating meekly to his corner, Alec was quickly ignored by all but plain Stamie, who seemed to be the only friendly inhabitant of the place.
"You just let me heat this up for you," she said, setting the pot of leftovers in the coals. "Do you fancy a pint of beer with your food?"
"Yes, please. It's a long ride all the way up here from Rhнminee."
"Rhнminee, you say?" she exclaimed softly, stealing a glance in her aunt's direction.
"Gods, what I wouldn't give to find service in the city! But you've a country accent yourself. How'd you manage it?"
"My position, you mean? Well now, there's not a lot to tell," Alec stammered; he'd been sent in as a simple messenger, for the Maker's sake! It hadn't occurred to any of them that he'd need some detailed history. "Master Verik knew my father, that's all."
"Lucky you. I was born into this lot, stuck out here in the williwags, same old faces day after day."
Her callused hand brushed across his as she reached to stir the coals, and hectic patches of color fleeted across her sallow cheeks. "What's your name, stranger?"
"Elrid. Elrid of Market Lane," Alec replied, noting both her blush and the striped bead she wore on a bit of red yarn around her neck.
It was a common country charm to attract a lover.
"Well, Elrid of Market Lane, it's a fair pleasure to see someone new for a change. At least someone I don't have to wait on hand and foot!" she added, rolling her eyes.
"Lady Kassarie's got guests, then?"
"Oh, yes, but even they're the same old lot. I spent half last night trying to keep old Lord Galwain's footman out of my skirts, as usual. Why is it never the one you want that takes the liberties, eh?"
This observation, together with the warm look that accompanied it, left no doubt where Alec stood in her estimation.
"You'd best be seeing after that ham now, Stamie," her aunt interrupted gruffly. "I'm sure this great big lad don't need you spooning his food into him. Off with you, now! And no mooning about."
With a resentful roll of her eyes, Stamie hefted the ham again and disappeared into the yard. Bolting down his pot of tepid scraps under Kora's watchful eye, Alec greeted Illester's reappearance with considerable relief.
The old man dourly handed him a sealed scroll and a silver coin. "See that you put that letter into Lady Althia's hands yourself, boy. Your horse has been watered. Off with you now!"
Message in hand, Alec galloped half a mile down the road before doubling back through the trees to where Seregil and Micurn were waiting.
"Well?" Seregil demanded.
"I spoke to Lady Kassarie. She claims he never came and that she wasn't expecting him. The watchman said the same when he let me in."
"She didn't pretend not to know him, though?" asked Micum.
"No, she just seemed surprised and a bit worried over the whole business. She gave me this note to carry back."
Lifting the seals with his knife, Seregil read the letter. "Nothing unusual here. She sends her regards and hopes that Lady Althia's husband turns up soon. There's no sign of a hidden message or cipher."
"She did ask me if I'd noticed anyone on the road this morning," Alec told him.
"Nothing suspicious in that," said Micum. "What was the household like?"
"I only saw the hall, kitchen, and part of the yard. She has some other guests, though. I saw two horses saddled for traveling and the scullery maid mentioned a Lord Galwain."
"Well done," Seregil said, clapping him on the back. "What about Kassarie and her people?"
"She's civil enough, I guess. She sent me to the kitchen for something to eat while she wrote out the note. The servants, though! They all treated me like something they'd scraped off the bottom of their boots. Illester, the head manservant, seemed to think I was there to steal the silver and muddy up the carpets. The cooks were the same. The only one who was friendly at all was the scullery maid."
"Took a shine to you, did she?" asked Micum with a knowing look.
"I think she's just lonesome, and no small wonder. She asked how I got service in the city. I had to make up a bit, but—"
"Hold on," Seregil interrupted. "This girl who made eyes at you, did you get her name?"
"Stamie. She's the head cook's niece."
"Good work. She could be our key to the back door if we ever need one."
"So what do we do now?" Micum asked restlessly.
"Alec can't show up to romance the girl when he's supposed to be on the road back to Rhнminee."
"I know." Running a hand back through his hair, Seregil encountered Thero's cropped curls and dropped his hand with a grimace. "So far we only have Alec's guess that the papers came here at all. Barien's serving maid could just as well have taken them when she met up with Teukros' man in the tavern."
"That's not what it all sounded like to me," Alec maintained stubbornly, nettled at this sudden doubt.
"Yes, but you only caught a few words. It's unwise to base assumptions on scant evidence. You end up leading yourself into all kinds of blind alleys."
"But what about the horses I saw in the yard?"
"Were any of them white?"
"Well, no. But Teukros could have changed mounts there."
"And ridden home on a different one?" Seregil cocked a skeptical eye at him. "To what end if he's already made no secret of his destination?"
"But the fact remains that we did see Teukros ride out last night," Alec insisted. "And he did tell his wife he was coming here."
"A lie to cover his tracks perhaps," suggested Seregil. "There's no reason to assume that he'd tell her the truth."
"Maybe we should head back to the city and see what Nysander's turned up," suggested Micum.
"You mean we're just going to leave?" asked Alec.
Nysander or not, he'd been inside the place and didn't like the feel of it.
"For now," Seregil said, heading for the horses. "You did a fine job. If nothing else, it was good practice for you."
Thoroughly let down, Alec stole a last resentful look at the keep looming over the gorge, then hurried away after the others.
32 Nasty Surprises
As they reached the Sea Gate that afternoon, Seregil was the first to notice that the guard had been doubled.
"Something's happened," he murmured as they rode into the crowded square.
"You got that right," said Micum, looking around.
"Let's see what it is."
Tight knots of people stood everywhere among the booths, heads together, faces serious. Ignored by their elders, gangs of children ran about wildly, teasing each other and daring their fellows to nick sweets from the unattended stalls.
Riding up to a small group of gossips, Micum threw back his cloak to show his red Orлska tunic.
"I've been away from the city. What's the news?" he asked.
"It's the Viceregent," a woman told him tearfully. "Poor Lord Barien's dead!"
Alec let out a gasp of surprise. "Illior's Light! How did it happen?"
"No one's certain," she replied, wiping her eyes with a corner of her apron.
"He was murdered!" exclaimed a rough-looking character beside her. "Them Plenimaran bastards will be behind it, just you wait and see!"
"Oh, shut your hole, Farkus. Don't be spreading rumors," growled another man, nervously eyeing Micum's livery. "He don't know nothing, sir. All anyone's heard for certain is the Viceregent was found dead this morning."