“Makes sense,” Gill said. He kept casting obvious sidelong glances at the other man, hoping he might get an introduction. During the wars, he had sometimes been infiltrated behind enemy lines for whatever purpose, but he had always at least known who the men he was fighting next to were. All the cloak-and-dagger stuff the Intelligenciers went on with seemed like a little much. Still, they were moving forward with such a pace, they were going to be ahead of any information of their plans, which was reassuring.
“The alternative,” dal Ruisseau Noir said, “is here.” He pointed to the quarry shaft. “Until now, we thought this access point to be impassable. That no longer seems to be the case.” He looked up at Gill.
“Ah, yes. It’s a steel panel that was concreted into the passage shaft. It’s thick—at least three feet, I think. The engineers said at the time there was no military technology that could breach it. They said it was more impenetrable than the city walls.” He admitted, “Perhaps I was being hasty in saying it was an option.”
Dal Ruisseau Noir looked at Solène, then at Gill. “We know what she is, and we also know that the magic jar has been opened, and the lid lost. There will be much discussion amongst my superiors about how we interact with magic in future.” He turned his attention back to Solène. “But for now, our sole remit is to rescue the king. On another day, perhaps we will be adversaries, but not today. I would be grateful for whatever assistance you can provide.”
Solène chewed her lip for a moment. “Do we only get one shot at this, or can we try your plan if I can’t get through the barrier?”
Dal Ruisseau Noir shrugged. “That depends. How much noise will you make trying to get through the barrier?”
Watching carefully, Gill could see a determined look come over her face. He knew that she didn’t like to back down from a challenge, and now that he had placed the idea, she was trying to work out if she could actually pull it off.
“Possibly none,” she said. “Magic doesn’t tend to make any noise. The effect it causes does sometimes, but not the magic itself.” She nodded. “Probably none.”
“There’s no reason we’d be seen from the palace getting to the shaft’s entrance,” Gill said. “We can take punts up the river and disguise ourselves as fishermen. There’ll be plenty of other people out on the river. If it goes wrong, we can jump back in our boats and try the other way.”
“That could work,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “We’ll need to organise boats and clothes.” He took a notepad and pencil from his tunic pocket and scribbled something down. He tore it off and handed it to Val. “Go to this address and speak to Louis. He’ll deliver the clothing we’ll need to look the part. Then go to the south docks, pier four, and ask for Gaston the Hook. You’ll know why he’s called that when you see him. He’ll arrange the boat. Then back here right away. Understand?”
Val nodded and was gone. It felt odd to Gill, watching someone else give orders to his former squire. Val hadn’t been in his service long, but long enough that Gill felt a proprietary interest. He felt bad, seeing the lad still in a position of danger, all the while trying to do his best and what he thought was right. If there was any justice in the world, Val would be studying under a solid swordmaster, working his way toward his Academy entrance examinations. Instead he was way in over his head in matters a lad his age should barely be able to dream up, let alone take part in. There was no getting away from it now, though.
“We’ve covered the getting-in-the-door part,” Gill said. “What comes next? How do you propose we move through the palace and get to the Tower of Forgetting?”
“By the time we’re inside, it will be close to eight bells in the morning. The servants change shift then, having served breakfast. There’ll be a lot of people moving around, and it will be easy for us to get lost in the crowd. Our man inside indicates the king is pretty popular with the staff, the Prince Bishop considerably less so. He’s had senior people in the household arrested, and everyone’s scared. They’re keeping their heads down and looking out for themselves. We should be able to get by without too much trouble.”
“Unless some little rat who wants to win the Prince Bishop’s favour spots us,” Gill said.
Dal Ruisseau Noir smiled. “There are nearly five thousand people working up at the palace.”
Gill raised his eyebrows. “Really?” In all his time at the palace, both in the Royal Guard and in the Silver Circle, he’d never known that. Good servants were invisible, and the ones close to the king were very good.
“Indeed. The palace employs more people than anything else in the realm. A few unfamiliar faces aren’t going to be noticed or remarked upon.
“I have appropriate clothing for that part of the job already, so we’ll be able to move through the palace via the servants’ passages until we get to the Tower of Forgetting. That’s where our ruse will have to be abandoned. Access to the king has been severely restricted, so at that point we’ll likely have to fight our way past the guards, then get the king out and back to the quarry shaft as quickly as we can. From there it’s back to the boats, and to a safe house until we can get the king out of the city.”
The plan was streamlined, and Gill didn’t see any opportunity for him to get to Amaury and the Cup. Amaury’s offices were on the other side of the palace from the Tower of Forgetting, so they’d have to split up at an early stage.
They were going into a very dangerous situation, and would be stirring up not one but two hornets’ nests. There was a chance trouble in two different parts of the palace would cause enough confusion to work to their favour, but it would also separate them, and might bring down on their heads every soldier Amaury had at his disposal. If he was going to ask someone to face additional danger on his account, Gill was at least going to be honest about it.
“There’s something else we have to do when we’re there,” Gill said, his decision made.
“What do you mean?” dal Ruisseau Noir said, his face turning dark.
“The Prince Bishop is in possession of something that could give him a great deal of power. He hasn’t used it yet, so far as we kn—”
“He has not,” Pharadon said.
“Thanks,” Gill said. “He hasn’t used it yet, but when he does, he’ll be all but untouchable.”
“What is it?”
“It’s something ancient that doesn’t belong to him. A cup. We need to take it from him before he uses it.”
“And what do you plan on doing with it?” dal Ruisseau Noir said.
“Return it to where it belongs, and make sure it isn’t used by any man or woman. Then kill him.”
“Not tempted yourself?”
“Not even remotely,” Gill said. He could feel Pharadon’s gaze burn into him. He’d happily forego the Cup’s wonders if it meant not having to fight another dragon. Truth be told, it hadn’t even occurred to him to try taking the Cup for himself. Considering all the bad choices he’d made in life, he liked to think he’d become adept at spotting them. It didn’t always mean he had the presence of mind to avoid them, but in this instance, he wasn’t even tempted. The sooner it was out of the hands of the human race, the better.
“This is why you really came to me, isn’t it? Not simply to kill the Prince Bishop.”
“Yes, it’s what we’re here in the city to do. I thought if our objectives were aligned enough, we could help one another.”
Dal Ruisseau Noir stood up and sighed. For a moment, the strain that was on the man showed, but his inscrutable mask returned as quickly as it had disappeared. Gill reckoned he felt that the fate of the king, and the entire kingdom, was resting on his shoulders. For all his sinister Intelligencier ways, he was quite a young man, less than thirty years old, and he had a lot to deal with now that Amaury had destroyed his chain of command.