“I think it is not, my lord Duke,” Dorrin said. “Opinionated, but not evil.”
“And I agree,” Seklis said. “I sensed no evil in those things. Though I am not a paladin, I am usually alert to evil.”
They left, then, with cordial farewells spoken outside in the street, where a few people still strolled past. “Do not worry,” the prince said, loud enough to be heard by anyone listening, “about the upkeep of the house while you are here. I will tell the Seneschal and he will speak to our banker. We will meet again tomorrow.”
Dorrin bowed. “You honor me, Lord Prince, and tomorrow I will be at your gates before midday.”
They rode off in a clatter of hooves. Dorrin dismissed her escort to the stable, all but Eddes, who came with her into the house and barred the door. With him, she checked the windows on the lower floors, the kitchen entrance, the gate to the stableyard. Then she gathered the rest of her escort together in the main hall. They yawned almost in chorus; her jaw ached with fighting back her own yawns.
“None of us will get much sleep tonight, but we can make it up tomorrow,” she said. She wished for a reliable junior captain or sergeant to share watches with, but what she had was what she had. “Jori, you’re the stableyard guard. That’s post one. There’s the gate, the windows in the stable itself, the stable roof. Here in the city, thieves might come any of those ways. Eddes, post two, front door. If someone sounding official demands entry, tell me, but do not open it. Inder, post three, scullery door, same rules.” If anyone came to the scullery door, it would mean Jori had failed his duty or been killed. She didn’t mention that. “Gani, post four, the cellar door. They should be spelled shut, but we take no chances. Perin, post five, upstairs between the main stairs down and the stairs to the third floor. Now: there’s a great glass in this house; your watch will last as long as the sand runs one way. Post one—that’s you, Eddes, this watch—will check the glass and turn it when it runs out and ring the bell. Every time the bell rings and the glass turns, you will move to the next numbered post, starting with Perin … Perin to post four, the cellar door, and when he comes, Gani, you to post three, and so on. Do not move until your replacement comes, and if he does not come, raise a shout. If there’s an alarm, do not cluster together like frightened chicks to a hen … wait for my orders. Clear?”
They nodded and muttered their agreement, shuffling off to their posts. Dorrin followed, making sure each was in his place, then went to the great glass in the downstairs hall and turned it, ringing the bell to start the watch. She went into the room where the royal treasures were, carrying the old trousers and shirt she slept in, and looked at the sack a moment. “I wish,” she said, “you could tell me your history and why you think you want me …” Then she changed, laid her court clothes on the table and stretched out on the floor, a candlestick and her sword to hand.
The house creaked, as old houses did. She heard no mice or rats—with no food in the house since before the Evener, they would have moved to better quarters. The room was stuffy with its shutters closed, but she’d slept in hotter, stuffier places. The smells were old and dry, whatever they were; she knew that here on the floor she would be smelling odors tracked in from the street, as well as those intrinsic to the house. She dozed off.
When the bell rang, she woke at once, lit the candle with her own magelight, and went to check on the rotation of the watch. Overhead, she heard Perin coming down … and then one by one they moved as she had directed. When they were all in place, she turned the glass again and went back to get what rest she could.
Dawn came early near midsummer; Dorrin woke Efla and Jaim, and sent three of her escort to sleep as soon as they’d had breakfast. The other two, she promised, would have their time later. Her own breakfast she scarcely tasted, thinking of all that must be done: find a suitable container for the treasure, cleanse the taint of blood magery, find the many traps … and the day-to-day running of the house, the market trips, the laundry, carting away the horses’ dung, fetching straw and hay …
A knock on the door interrupted her search for a suitable container—she had found three, but all heavily spelled—and she hurried downstairs as Eddes called her.
When she opened the door, two Marshals wearing formal blue tabards and two yeomen with blue sashes were waiting.
“Be welcome,” Dorrin said. “May I have your names?”
“Marshal Veksin,” one said, “and my yeoman-marshal Gilles.” The other, Marshal Tamis, introduced another yeoman-marshal, Berin.
“We should start with the worst contamination,” Tamis said. “Will you take us there, please?”
“Yes,” Dorrin said, “but I am required at the palace this morning and three of my men—who had watch the night through—are sleeping there—” She nodded to the smaller reception room, where the men snored away on the floor and her clothes were still laid out on the table.
“How many servants did you bring with you?” Marshal Tamis asked.
“Just a cook and a boy to help,” Dorrin said. “And five men for an escort and to manage the animals. I am more used to traveling light, military style, and did not think what a house this size might need.”
“I hear the prince visited yestereve,” Marshal Veksin said. He sounded as if he disapproved.
“The prince, Duke Mahieran, and High Marshal Seklis,” Dorrin said. “They did me the honor of coming here after I went to the palace; given the circumstances, I scarcely expected it and was not, alas, prepared to receive them as handsomely as they deserved.”
“They parted friendly, I heard,” Veksin said.
“Indeed so,” Dorrin said. “I had never met the prince, in my years with Duke Phelan’s Company, but the Duke had told me about him. It was both honor and delight to meet him and the others.”
A grunt from behind indicated that Veksin was thinking about that. Now on the second floor, she led them to her uncle’s study. “That,” she said, nodding at Liart’s symbol on the wall and the bloodstains on the floor. “I am not wise in such matters, but it seems to me this is the worst. Next would be the bedrooms, with blood on the thresholds and bloodmarks under the beds.”
“Are there simple traps here?” Marshal Tamis asked.
“Undoubtedly,” Dorrin said. “I have found two hands’ worth at least, so far, and expect to find more. No chair here is completely safe, nor drawer nor cabinet door, and I would not handle those things that look most interesting or valuable. I will show you one trap I have not yet disarmed.” With the butt of her dagger, Dorrin pressed on the back of one chair; a spike emerged from the upholstery, its tip clearly darker than the rest. “That is poison,” Dorrin said. “Anyone who sits in this chair, without the trap being disarmed, looses a spring and that spike will pierce clothing, even leather.”
“Can you disarm it?”
“Not without taking the chair apart, which is itself dangerous. On Verrakai’s own domain, I burned such things, which also destroyed the poison. Here, in the city, fire is too dangerous. I planned to have them broken up in the stableyard, and burn the parts containing poison in the kitchen hearth.”
“Will you wish to observe our work?” Veklis asked.
“No,” Dorrin said. “As I am required at the palace, I have things to do before then. Call if you need me; I will tell you when I leave for the palace.”
Downstairs, she gave up on the two difficult chests, and looked into the larder. There she found a plain wooden box, untrapped, and in the linen press off the large reception room, a small tablecloth, heavily embroidered, for a cover. She herself packed the treasure into it, covered it with the tablecloth, and tied the cloth on with blue velvet ropes from the drapes. A certain sullen resentment emanated from the box; Dorrin murmured to it as to a child.