Before long – or perhaps after a long time, according to how she happened to feel at the moment – her summons was answered. But not by Saddith. The woman who appeared in the doorway had the look of a chambermaid; she was older than Saddith, however, blowzy with sleep and hasty dressing, and in no good humor. Nevertheless after one glance at Ribuld and Argus, at the scattered feathers and the broken door, she forgot her irritation and fled.
For a moment, she could be heard squalling into the distance, “Ho, guards! Help!”
“Fool woman,” Argus muttered through his teeth.
Ribuld was stirring. His hands rubbed at his face, then flinched away from his bruised forehead. “Daughter of a goat,” he groaned. “Who was that bastard?” Weakly, he propped himself up on one elbow and peered around the room. When he saw Terisa, he gave a sigh of relief and sank back to the floor again.
“I’m dying,” Argus whispered thickly. “Hogswill unmanned me.”
“Forget it,” replied Ribuld in a prostrate tone. “Won’t change your life.” Shortly, Terisa heard nailed boots hammering the stone of the outer corridor – a lot of boots. Brandishing his longsword, a man dressed like Ribuld and Argus sprang through the doorway. He had five companions behind him, all ready for a fight: they looked clenched for violence, like the three riders in her dream. But there was no fight available. They scanned the rooms quickly, then gathered around Terisa’s defenders. “What happened?” one of them asked, awkwardly jocose. “Did you two lechers finally meet a woman tougher than you are?”
Before Argus or Ribuld could answer, another man stamped into the room. From his close-cropped, gray-stained hair to his out-thrust jaw, from his swaggering shoulders to his hard strides, he bristled with authority, though he was shorter than Terisa – nearly a foot shorter than any of the men around him. He was dressed as they were, with the addition of a purple sash draped over one shoulder across his mail and a purple band knotted above his stiff, gray eyebrows. His eyes held a perpetual glare, and his mouth snarled as if it had long ago forgotten any other expression.
He scanned the room, assessing the situation, then stalked up to Terisa and gave her a rigid bow. “My lady,” he said. In spite of its quietness, his voice made her want to flinch. “I’m Castellan Lebbick, commander of Orison and the guard of Mordant. I’ll speak to you in a moment.”
At once, he turned on Argus and Ribuld. Without raising his voice, he made it sound like a lash. “What’s going on here?”
They struggled to their feet. Uncomfortably, they tried to explain the situation. As a personal favor, Apt Geraden had asked them to keep an eye on the lady Terisa of Morgan, in case she got in trouble. He said he didn’t know what kind of trouble. But they were off duty, so they decided to do what he asked. Nothing happened for a long time. Then the man in black appeared in the corridor. He walked up to them and told them to let him in, he had business with the lady Terisa. When they asked him what his business was, he snatched out his sword, broke the door open, and tried to kill her. After that, he gave up and ran away.
Listening to them, Terisa realized that neither Argus nor Ribuld knew she had been out of her rooms. In fact, neither of them had seen Adept Havelock. Because of this, they weren’t able to account for her attacker’s flight. Glancing toward Terisa as if he believed she were responsible, Argus mumbled something about a light, then winced at the way Castellan Lebbick looked at him.
Ignoring her, the Castellan sent the six guards out of the room at a run to rouse the rest of the watch and begin a search for the man in black—“Although,” he muttered as they left, “he’s probably halfway to oblivion by now.” Then he returned his attention to Ribuld and Argus.
“Let me get this straight. He fought the two of you away from the door long enough to break it open. He got as far as the doorway to the bedroom. He knocked one of you out and disabled the other. Then he panicked and ran away. Doubtless he was terrified by how easily you were overcome. Maybe everybody who serves the King is like you. I’m surprised he didn’t die of fright.”
Ribuld and Argus hung their heads.
“My lady?” Lebbick asked grimly.
Terisa didn’t answer. Now she understood why she had closed the wardrobe. Havelock had taken the risk of angering both the King and the Congery by providing her with some of Mordant’s history, and she didn’t mean to betray what he had done for her.
“Very well,” the Castellan growled. “Let that pass for the moment. Explain this, you ox-headed louts,” he demanded of Argus and Ribuld. “Why didn’t you tell anyone what you were doing here? By the stars, I’ve spent my life training lumps of dead meat to understand the importance of communications and access to reinforcements. If you believed Geraden enough to think the lady might be in danger, why didn’t you take the simple precaution of arranging to be able to call for help?”
The bruise on his forehead gave Ribuld an excuse to raise his hand in front of his face. “We didn’t believe Geraden. You know him. We were just doing him a favor. For Artagel’s sake.”
“Pigswallow,” retorted Castellan Lebbick. “I’ll tell you why you didn’t tell anyone. If you reported what you were doing to your captain in order to arrange reinforcements, he would report it to me – and I would report it to the King. Since the King didn’t see fit to command guards for the lady himself, he might have been moved to wonder” – the Castellan’s voice sounded capable of drawing blood – “what business it is of yours to meddle in his decisions.”
“We didn’t mean any offense,” Argus protested. “We were just—”
“I know. Spare me your excuses. I’ll take care of Geraden. You report to your captain. Tell him about this – and count yourselves lucky I don’t have you clapped in irons. Go on.”
Argus and Ribuld obeyed, hardly daring to groan. Neither of them looked at Terisa. Carefully – but promptly under the Castellan’s glare – they retrieved their swords and hobbled out of the room.
“Now, my lady.” Lebbick rounded on her. “Maybe we can discuss this matter a bit more openly. I’m sure King Joyse will be relieved to hear you were able to drive off your attacker – alone and unaided – after two of my guards failed. But he might like to know how you did it. And I’m sure he’ll want to know what it is about you that brings on that kind of attack in the middle of the night. “
He moved a step closer to her, his chin jutting. “Who are you, my lady? Oh, I know the story – Orison doesn’t keep things like that secret. Apt Geraden brought you here by an accidental translation. But who are you?” His eyes held hers, as piercing as awls. “What game are you trying to play with my King?”
He sounded so angry that she started to tremble.
Another step brought him close to her. If he extended his right fist, pointed his heavy index finger at her, she knew exactly what would happen next. She would begin to babble:
I’m sorry I didn’t mean it I won’t do it again I promise please don’t punish me I don’t know what I did wrong.
Fortuitously, another guard sprinted into the room at that moment and jerked himself to a halt. He was a young man, and his fear of Castellan Lebbick’s temper showed all over him.
“Excuse me, Castellan, sir,” he said in a tumble. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I have a message from the King.”
Lebbick took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if he were controlling himself with great difficulty. Then he turned his back on Terisa.
The guard swallowed heavily and stared back at the Castellan like a bird caught by a snake.
“A message from the King,” Lebbick rasped venomously. “You said you had one. Try to remember.”