"What was Sir Kenton's story?" Achan asked.
The crunching of dead grass pulled Achan's attention to the web of trees on his left. Could Sir Gavin sense every beast in the area? Or only those he shadowed? He could have sworn he'd heard a horse neigh.
"According to Sir Kenton and every guardsman and servant questioned, the king dismissed his men when they arrived, and he, you, and your mother went for a walk in the orchard. No one would have questioned this as your mother had a fondness for trees. She had her own gardens at Armonguard. They're still there. You shall see them someday."
"Who found them?" Achan tensed at the image of a family walk turned to slaughter.
"A farmer. He'd been out-"
Torches fizzed to life on all sides, bobbing in the darkness. Achan drew his sword. Men in armor appeared all around them. These weren't black knights, however. Nearly two dozen soldiers encircled them, each gripping a sword and a two-tone shield bearing the face of a reekat. Behind them, men on horseback stood sentry before three long carts filled with rock.
"By whose command do you tread upon this land?" a man said.
Achan couldn't tell where his voice came from.
"We serve no man," Sir Gavin said. "We seek an audience with Sir Septon Eli, Lord of Mirrorstone."
"And you are?"
"Sir Gavin Whitewolf, commander of the Old Kingsguard. We come in peace."
"Then you shall be received in such." A tall, husky man stepped through the row of soldiers and approached Sir Gavin. His face was shaded in a thick grey beard. "I am Belen. I would be happy to escort you to Mirrorstone."
Stay in the shadows, Achan, Sir Gavin bloodvoiced.
Gladly. Achan dreaded their arrival in Mirrorstone, fearing Sir Gavin intended to parade him about to rally supporters.
All his life he'd had but one goaclass="underline" freedom. To be able to build his own cottage, cook his own meals, and, maybe someday, have a wife and family. He'd never dreamed of being king. And despite any notions of what he thought a prince or king's life might be like, the past few days had shown the truth. A king was not a free man in the slightest.
Belen led them across a wide dirt road to the wagons filled with rock. He tapped the side of one that was hitched to two horses. "Your men can ride in this. Come with me, Sir Gavin, and I'll see you are given a horse."
Sir Caleb nudged Achan toward the wagon. "You heard him. Into the wagon, men."
Achan slipped up on the wagon bed, legs dangling off, but Sir Caleb made him move farther in. He scooted back and leaned against a smooth boulder. Sir Caleb and Inko sat on either side. Sparrow sat in front of him.
Like shields.
"How is your head, Inko?"
Sparrow's voice sent a jolt of tension through Achan. The secret keeper excelled at pretending nothing was amiss.
"It's being a big lump. I'm thinking Arman was blessing me that it was being the third rock that was being thrown. Any other I might not have been waking up from."
Achan closed his eyes, wishing the act could forever silence Inko's irrational superstitions over lucky numbers and who knew what else.
"It's a relief to be headed for a stronghold," Sir Caleb said. "Pray it's a friendly one."
The wagon jerked forward, wheels crunching over dirt, rocks shifting against the wooden wagon and each other. Soldiers rode by on horseback, eyeing them curiously in the glow of the torches they held. Lulled by rolling motion of the wagon and the sound of creaking wood, Achan soon nodded off.
"How lovely."
Achan opened his eyes at Sparrow's voice. Hundreds of torches illuminated the size and shape of a tall, narrow castle. Flames burned bright, reflecting warm, flickering light in the surrounding moat of dark water. Mirrorstone. Lord Eli had it good. It was an impressive place for a man no more than twenty years of age.
They passed under a marble gatehouse intricately carved with foliage, faces, and animals. The soldiers peeled away from the wagon and crossed a deserted courtyard toward an archway topped with a double row of torches. The wagon stopped before a grand marble porch with pillars as wide as three men.
"Stay back and keep your head down," Sir Caleb said.
They piled out of the wagon. A guard led them inside through a pillared vestibule and into a luxurious great hall. A raised, white marble dais stretched across the far end of the room. Red linen draped over a head table set with golden plates and goblets. Three bronze candelabras, dripping with glass prisms, hung above the table, each holding dozens of white candles. The prisms cast sparkling light over the floor and walls. Guards stood beside each fluted pilaster, edging the room.
Achan kept his eyes down, wincing slightly. After so many days of gloomy shadow, the light seemed wrong somehow. Too bright.
Sir Gavin and a young man were seated at the high table looking like a grandsire with his grandson. Achan recognized the young man's pale, freckled face and shock of orange hair immediately. Sir Septon Eli himself. A man barely older than Achan. His parents had also died tragically, though Achan couldn't recall how. He did remember Esek monopolizing the young lord's wife on the trip to Mahanaim.
Achan stayed behind Sir Caleb and kept his head down as they crossed the wide room.
"I'm collecting rock to build a wall around my land," Lord Eli said to Sir Gavin. "The Poroo and ebens have been merciless of late. It appears they want to start a war with one another, yet Mirrorstone lies in between. It thrills me to no end they want to kill each other, but I want no part of it."
"You think a wall will keep them out?" Sir Gavin asked.
"It works for Har Sha'ar."
"Har Sha'ar is a mountain fortress. You're on the coast."
"A tall enough wall will keep them out. The kwon too."
"Kwon certainly," Sir Gavin sniffed, "but Poroo climb."
"Oh, I'm well aware. I was there when the Poroo attacked Prince Esek's procession. Horrible creatures. Can't be reasoned with. Can't be bought."
Sir Caleb stopped and cleared his throat.
Lord Eli's gaze jerked to the floor and he waved them forward. "You must desire to freshen up before dinner, but I wanted to greet you first."
Odd. Achan did not claim to be an expert at decorum, but Sir Gavin had taught him a guest's comfort always took priority. Either Lord Eli was clueless, extremely self-absorbed, or suspicious of his guests.
Sir Gavin pushed back his chair and stood. "These are my fellow Kingsguards, Sir Caleb Agros and Inko son of Mopti."
"Ah, a Barthian, are you?" Lord Eli smiled down on Inko. "Well, I won't hold it against you." He snapped his fingers and one of the servants pulled out a chair for Inko.
Achan instantly disliked Lord Eli's arrogant, Esek-like demeanor.
"And Agros is a noble title, is it not?"
Sir Caleb bowed. "My brother is Lord of Allowntown."
"And are you heir to the lordship?"
"By no means. My brother has three healthy sons."
"A shame for you and a joy for him, I'm sure." Lord Eli snapped again and a servant pulled out another chair.
Sir Caleb hesitated, then took his seat beside Inko.
Achan remained standing beside Sparrow, eyes cast to the floor. He could feel Lord Eli's gaze.
"And these are?"
"Our servants." Achan looked up at the sound of Sir Gavin's voice.
"Delightful." Lord Eli left his chair and descended the platform. "I should like to meet them as well."
This was the longest of tales. No man as pretentious as Lord Eli would even look at another man's servants, let alone desire a personal introduction.
"What's this? Your servant is injured." Lord Eli stepped so close Achan could count the freckles on the man's face. His breath warmed Achan's cheek. "Why I…can it be?" He spun to face the high table, eyes wide. "Commander, do not play me false. I have seen this young man before on the journey from Sitna. King Esek issued a royal proclamation to apprehend this man."