"Better not take time for that. Belongings can be replaced, but your bead cannot. And pray take Estrildis to your friend's house forthwith, for our safety here."
Corineus seemed inclined to argue, but Jorian said firmly: "Nay, out you go, the twain of you. As the little clerk said, keep your mouths shut and we'll keep ours likewise. Goodbye, Estrildis."
She began to weep again. "I know not what to say—it is awkward— you are a true gentleman despite what he said—"
"Na, na, forget all that and get tha hence," said Jorian, reverting to the rustic Kortolian dialect of his boyhood. "Partings, like executions, were best done speedily; but a shall remember ma bonny little farm lassie."
Wrapped in the hooded cloak, Estrildis went out sniffling. Corineus shepherded her, treating her as if she were a fragile glass vase.
"Whew!" Jorian drew his sleeve across his forehead. "Let us hope they get safely away ere the palace come looking for them. Think you not that we need a draft of Sovar's best? All but Father Karadur, whose principles forbid."
"I'll fetch the wine," said Kerin.
"Methinks even I could bend my principles a trifle," said Karadur.
"This is a change from how you formerly spoke, Jorian, of skewering any villain who so much as made eyes at your lass."
"That's your doing," said Jorian. "I remembered your lecture, when we were flying over the Lograms. So I've tried in accordance therewith to take the long view of what were best for all concerned. Corineus would call that unknightly, but happily I have no knightly code to live up to. The lad may be handsome and brave and gallant, but he is also a damned fool."
Margalit said: "That's the main reason I insisted on coming on this journey."
"How mean you?" said Jorian.
"Methought that, when you learned of her infidelity, you might slay her in your rage; and I thought it my duty to protect her. Thank Zevatas I did not have to throw myself betwixt her and your steel!"
For the next hour they sat in the large bedchamber, drinking from the bottle that Kerin had brought and talking plans. Then, bottle empty, Kerin spoke of returning to his quarters and Margalit, of retiring to her chamber. They were bidding good night when a noise from below caught their attention. There were footfalls of many men, a rumble of speech, and a clank of weapons.
Kerin looked out, then softly closed the door. "It's a squad of the Royals, looking for her," he said. "They will search every digit of this place, their officer says. What now?"
"Let me think," said Jorian. "If we try to run for it—nay; and if they look us over closely, they may see that Margalit and I are disguised… I know one trick that might throw them off. Kerin and Karadur, get under the bed! Margalit, take off your clothes and get into the bed!"
"What!" she cried. "Art mad? Why—"
"Just do it! I'll explain anon." As he spoke, Jorian peeled off his own garments. "Hasten, curse it! Fear not for your virtue; this is but a charade to cozen them. Yare!"
"Every last stitch?" quavered Margalit, unwinding the voluminous Mulvanian garment.
"Every stitch!" Standing naked, Jorian waited until Margalit was under the blanket, while his brother and the Mulvanian were out of sight beneath the bed. Then he blew out the lamp and slid under the blanket. Below, Kerin grunted as Jorian's weight pressed the bed down upon him. "Quiet!" whispered Jorian, sliding an arm around Margalit, who stiffened at his touch. "Let me do the talking."
The tramping and voices outside went on and on. At last the door burst open. Turning his head, Jorian made out the silhouette of two Royal Guardsmen in the doorway. Half sitting up, still holding Margalit closely, he roared:
"Heryx smite you with emerods! Cannot a man make love to his own lawful wife in privacy? Have you no decency? Get out!"
"I beg your pardon, sir," said a voice. The door closed, and the trampings died away. When all sounds of the visitations ended, Jorian got out of bed, opened the door a crack to peek out, and relit the lamp.
"They've gone," he said, pulling on his trousers.
Margalit held the Mulvanian garment against her front. "May I go now?"
"Aye, my dear. If any wight besmirch your fair name as a result of this play-acting, Kerin and the Doctor can swear I took no liberties. They'd have known."
"But you thought of those liberties. I could tell." She giggled. "After traveling about with you, Jorian, I misdoubt I have any fair name left to preserve."
Chapter Ten THE HAUNTED CASTLE
MARGALIT, HANDLING FILOMAN'S REINS, SAID: "JORIAN, FOR one whose heart has just been broken by his love's faithlessness, you seem unwontedly cheerful."
Jorian, riding Cadwil beside the cart, had been singing an air from The Good Ship Petticoat, by Galliben and Silfero:
He gave Margalit a searching look, saying: "You are right, now that I bethink me. It was a shock, of course. But later, when I pondered the matter, along with my grief, disappointment, and resentment, I realized there was an element of relief."
"Meaning you loved her not so desperately as you have been alleging?"
"Well, three years is a long separation for one so young and lusty as Estrildis. True. I loved her—I still do in a way—and had she remained true, I would have tried to be a loving, faithful husband. When she did not, I found the break less painful than I might have expected. Mean you to return to your post at the Academy?"
"Aye; what else? There are few positions as a queen's lady-in-waiting open."
They had been traveling southeasterly, wasting no time but not moving so hurriedly as to arouse suspicion. Once a squadron of horse caught up with them and searched them. But Jorian's Mulvanian accent, together with the lack of any trace of Estrildis, convinced the troopers that these were merely harmless foreigners. They galloped on.
Jorian said: "We shall soon come to the road to Castle Lore Let's spend the night there. Baron Lore is not a bad sort as ghosts go, and we shall have a roof over our heads."
When neither of his companions objected, Jorian led the cart up the long, overgrown slope to the ruined castle. Margalit called: "Jorian! Had we not better station the cart and the beasts behind the castle, instead of in the courtyard? They were less visible."
"That's my wise woman! How have I managed without you all these years?"
"Welcome, my friends," said Baron Lore's ghost, as darkness fell and Margalit set out their supper in the main hall. "Let me think. The large man, albeit clad as a Mulvanian, saith he be Nikko of Kortoli. The lady is Margalit of Totens; and—I forget thy name, reverend sir. If thou hast noted a failure of memory with advancing age, thou mayst imagine how much worse it be for me."
"He is Doctor Karadur," said Jorian.
"Now, this doth excite mine interest," said the ghost. "Ye see, yesternight a squadron of cavalry made free with my demesne, and I overheard their talk. Several troopers seemed not to know what their mission portended, having been mere boys when these events began. So their officer related the particulars.
"It transpired that they sought one Estrildis, Queen of Xylar, who hath vanished. The burthen was that she had been abducted by her husband, the fugitive King Jorian, who disappeared three years since. He fled, they said, to escape beheading at the ceremony that taketh place every lustrum—or would, had not Jorian's desertion thrown the calendar into confusion."
"We heard something of that," said Jorian.