No, I didn’t, Pounce replied, stretching out to his full length with a yawn. I heard everything.
I glared at him. “You couldn’t have helped when I was tumbling down the cliffside?”
The toughening up will do you good, he said, the dreadful moralizing beast. Achoo was there to look after you.
“I nearly landed on Achoo!” I snapped, checking to see I had forgotten nothing.
You will feel better when you’ve had a hot bath and a belly full of proper hot food, Pounce said wisely. You’re always scratchy when you’re uncomfortable.
I walked out of the room. I can never argue with him. I don’t know why I try.
Achoo sat before my door, thumping it with her tail in her eagerness to get moving. Tunstall met us at the center corridor. Mistress Orielle stood with him. “I’ll show you out,” she said, matter-of-fact. She wore pale blue today, and pearls in her ears. She had also thrust a handkerchief in her sleeve, as if she expected to cry some more. “No one can object if you use the front entry when I am with you. Besides, I bear a message from Her Majesty.” She guided us back down the open hall where we’d first encountered her, past the sitting room where we’d met the king and queen. A soldier in the King’s Own opened the front door for her and retreated down the hall when she waved her fingers at him.
When the soldier had turned his back to us, Mistress Orielle reached into a hidden pocket inside her overdress and drew out two small purses. She gave one to Tunstall and one to me. “For expenses,” she told us quietly. “Her Majesty does not want you to find yourselves coin-pinched while you seek her baby. She has every faith in you both.”
“That faith could be misplaced,” Tunstall replied, keeping his voice down. “His Highness may be beyond our ability to find.”
“She only asks you to do your best,” Mistress Orielle told us firmly. “And I wish you luck, as much as it is in my poor power to bestow.”
We thanked her. In saying farewell, Tunstall asked her to give the queen our promises to try everything we knew and sent our message of hope for success to the queen.
Outside, two men of the King’s Own waited for us with the horses we had ridden here. Everyone looked surly in the rain, except my chestnut mare. She touched noses with Pounce and Achoo, then watched as Pounce leaped to my shoulder. I mounted, careful not to dislodge my friend.
As we rode I did some thinking while I watched Achoo get covered in mud all over again. Normally I wouldn’t have minded the chance to see Sir Tullus of King’s Reach. I’ve missed him at the Magistrate’s Court ever since he took up the post of Deputy Provost of Port Caynn two years back. The new magistrate we have is well enough, but once I recovered from being scared of Sir Tullus, I thought he was a bit funny. The new magistrate is too humorless for me. The only thing about him that I like is the fact that he would rather Tunstall give evidence of our hobblings, even if I was the Dog that did the work. He has no patience for my stutterings in front of a crowd. If he can avoid calling on me, he will do so, every time.
It was knowing that Tullus would see us in uniforms we had worn through weather and muck that disheartened me. I liked to look my best going before him. Just now I felt like an unmade bed, while the sky continued to piss on me.
The boat landing lay some eight miles on the other side of the main road, across from the palace gate. That was why we hadn’t seen it the night before. We’d been at least four miles upriver.
At the dock rode a tidy craft, a normal ship, with a crew that wore the blue tunics and white breeches of our navy. Seeing our approach, they ran out a gangplank. A mot with the silver sleeve and hem embroideries of a naval mage stood at the foot of the gangplank. Only when she had traded passwords with our guides and checked our orders did she allow Tunstall and me to board. We left the horses behind.
Tunstall, the animals, and I napped for part of the journey. We shared bread and cheese with the crew for lunch. Afterward I worked on my reports while Tunstall played cards with the sailors. It was a quiet and welcome time until we reached the docks at Port Caynn. I enjoyed it as long as I forced myself to concentrate on my report and not on taking the road to Hunt for Rats.
The ship entered the ocean harbor at Port Caynn around mid-afternoon. I found it strange to come at the city this way. Every other time I had seen the place, it had been from the land, from the high ridges or from the rooftops. It was a pretty town, if you didn’t look too close at the streets, and you didn’t venture into the wrong districts. The Ridge Gardens were plain beautiful, and I’d never had better food at so many eating houses.
But we weren’t there to eat. As soon as we docked, Tunstall, Achoo, Pounce, and I were on our way uphill to Guards House. Sir Tullus had sent an escort and horses for our packs. At first my battered legs complained, but the pace uphill soon warmed them up. We stopped for broiled lamb on skewers and fresh cherry juice, the lamb being for Achoo and Pounce as well as us humans. Between the food and a proper walk, my spirits improved despite the rain.
“Folk here must have good legs,” Tunstall remarked as we neared the top of the ridge. “Going up and down all day.”
I grinned at him. Certainly my legs had improved in the short time that Goodwin and I had Hunted colemongers in Port Caynn. It had prepared me for my future with Achoo. “The locals need them, to work off all the seafood they eat,” I said.
Tunstall made the most horrendous face. I had known he would. “Seagoing bugs and snails,” he said. “Give me a man’s food.” Tunstall had not tasted seafood until he’d been a Dog five years. From what I’d heard, he’d gotten angry at having to pay for something he insisted was a joke, not food. He would eat fish, though he preferred freshwater, just as he preferred freshwater eels. Anyone who put seafood on his plate risked a drubbing.
Guards House loomed above us, safe behind its gray stone wall. Our escort took our packs inside while Tunstall showed our orders to the guard at the gate. He sniffed at our soaked, crumpled uniforms and the animals who bore us company. I let Tunstall go ahead of me into the courtyard, then asked the guard who hadn’t sniffed, “Is Sergeant Axman on duty?”
“He is, and he’ll be none too happy about the condition of yon hound,” the guard told me, just as stiff-rumped as his friend. “Why didn’t you clean up afore you came in?”
“Because our orders said we weren’t to loiter about like a pair of fat-assed gate-sitters,” Tunstall said. He’d turned to see why I was gabbing with the guards. “We don’t have time to make ourselves pretty for the riffraff. Cooper, there’s work to do.”
Pounce leaped to the ground as we crossed the courtyard. Without me telling her, Achoo fell in step one foot off my left heel. Following our packs, we climbed the steps and passed into Guards House.
The guard had told us the truth. Sergeant Axman, who had saved my skin three years ago, was indeed on duty. He raised his eyebrows at both of us as Tunstall showed him the packet with the Provost’s seal and asked for a meeting with Sir Tullus.
“Welcome back, all of you,” Axman said, hopping down from his tall chair. Achoo was flailing Tunstall and me with her tail. “How long has it been since our last meetin’? Five months since a Hunt brought you my way?” He clasped arms with Tunstall.
“Indeed—we were on the trail of boat thieves,” Tunstall replied.
“I need not ask if you found them,” Axman said with a smile. “You always do with this fine lass.” He did not speak of me, but of Achoo, who was sniffing Axman’s pockets already. The sergeant was a hound breeder and there were always treats to be found on his person. He was one of Achoo’s greatest admirers. I never had to remind her that he was her friend.
“Achoo,” I said in complaint. “I taught you better manners.”
“But she knows there are exceptions for old friends, doesn’t she?” The sergeant lowered himself to one knee to pet my girl.
“Norham, take the desk,” the sergeant called to a guardsman who was polishing the metal cressets set around the room. “I’ll guid
e these messengers to Sir Tullus.” He fed Achoo treats that he makes up himself. He’ll give me bags of them when I visit Port Caynn, but never the recipe, and four-legged dogs go mad for them.
Norham came to the desk as Axman rose and dusted his hands. He took us to the door to the inner offices at Guards House. “Even the creatures, Sergeant?” Norham asked.
Axman pointed a blunt finger at Norham. “Don’t you go callin’ Achoo Curlypaws a creature,” he said firmly, his eyes like steel. “She’s one of the finest hounds that ever picked up a scent. And you argue with the cat at your own risk.”
Norham sputtered. “I don’t argue with cats,” he protested. By then we were through the door and out of earshot.
Tunstall was chuckling. “You like to keep them on their toes, Sergeant Axman?”
“These second-year Dogs, they think they know it all,” Axman replied. “If their desk sergeants notice the signs before they get themselves killed, they send the lads—you never see the lasses get their heads swelled up like that—the sergeants send the lads up to me.” The sarge came to a halt before a door I recognized as being the one to the Deputy Provost’s office. “You can’t tell me what Hunt you’re about this time, can you? The nobles’ mages are stirred up. They’ve told Sir Tullus somethin’s gone amiss at both palaces, but no one’s sendin’ word out. Our peregrine ships have been called out of port. And the messenger bird just came with word that the Malia, a Crown messenger ship, is docked in our harbor, and you were aboard.”
Tunstall looked at me, since I know the sergeant better. I put my hand on Axman’s rock-hard arm. “I’m sorry,” I told him softly. “We’ve got orders to keep it quiet.”
Axman made the Sign on his chest. “Then I’ll not hinder you.” He rapped on the door.
A voice I knew well shouted, “Chaos is in it, I was trying to nap!”
Axman opened the door. “Sir Knight, I’ve two weary Dogs here with sealed orders from my Lord Provost.” He nodded for us to go in.
The office had changed some since I’d first seen it three years ago. The beautiful wood of the walls, ceiling, and moldings was still well cared for. The former Deputy Provost had allowed only maps of each Guard District and maps of the surrounding countryside districts on the walls. Sir Tullus had beautifully woven tapestries on the walls as well, showing scenes from the legends of the Great Gods. I would have loved to take a closer look at them, but I have never been able to relax around the man who used to be the magistrate for Jane Street’s Evening Watch. I had spent too much time hearing him say, “Tell it slowly, Cooper,” or “While we live, Cooper,” to be at ease with both of us in so small a room.
He had changed Sir Lionel’s plain, depressing furnishings, too. The big desk had a couple of carved stone figures and a beautiful ebony bowl on it. There were tapestry-work cushions on the chairs in front of the desk, and bright Carthaki rugs on the flagstones of the floor. The horn in the old windows had been replaced with glass. I’d heard that Sir Tullus had inherited a bit of money on the death of a great-uncle. Clearly he liked to spend it on comfort. Sir Lionel’s old single bookcase had been replaced by five, all stuffed full. After two years of sitting in Sir Tullus’s courtroom, hearing him deliver judgments, I figured he’d read them all.
Sir Tullus himself got to his feet the moment he saw who we were. “Tunstall and Cooper, Mithros save me. And on a Hunt, from the look of you.”
He’d not changed since he’d left the Jane Street court. He still had that single eyebrow across his forehead, and his cheeks were still ruddy. He dressed like a noble with money and sense, in a tunic of a dark brownish red that suited him, with golden-colored embroideries at the hems and collar. He wore the Deputy Provost’s signet ring on his right hand, a wedding band on his left. His black hair was cut in a short, military style, and if he used the perfumed oil in it that was the noble fashion, I could not smell it.
Tunstall and I bowed. Behind us we heard the door close as Sergeant Axman left. I took the packet of documents from Lord Gershom and set them before Sir Tullus with another bow, then gave him my own orders. Tunstall passed me his to set before Sir Tullus.
“Very good,” Sir Tullus said, taking the seat behind his desk. “Sit down, both of you. From the look of this, I may need a little time.” He went over our orders first and set them aside. Then he sliced the seal clean off the packet and cut the ties with a small, sharp dagger. Sir Tullus opened the wrapping and selected the first document.
He hadn’t read the entire page before he said, “Mithros and Goddess save us!” He turned and yanked at a bellpull behind him so hard that it snapped. “Parrot pox,” he grumbled. “I do that once a month at least. You’d think they’d make the sarden things tougher.”
The door opened. A lass of fourteen, a message runner, stuck her head into the room. “Sir Knight?” She frowned as Sir Tullus held up the rope pull. “You broke it again, sir.” I don’t believe she was close enough to see that Tullus’s hand was trembling with vexation.
“When will you trade for chain, like I keep asking?” Sir Tullus demanded. “Wine, three cups, some pasties. At the run, lass!”
“Aye, Sir Knight.” The runner left us, closing the door.
Sir Tullus looked at Tunstall and me. “You were there?”
“Not when it happened, Sir Knight,” Tunstall replied. “Lord Gershom in Corus got word that something was amiss and collected Cooper and me for the early Hunt. And a mage, Farmer Cape.”
Sir Tullus grunted and returned to reading his document. As he read, he swore under his breath and made the Sign twice before the wine and food arrived. The runner came back then, setting the pitcher and plates at the front of Sir Tullus’s desk so we might serve ourselves. It seemed the Deputy Provost preferred such informality. Once she’d poured the wine, the lass left us alone together in the room once more.
Tunstall and I tried not to gobble the pasties as Sir Tullus read the first document three times over. It was hard. Until Sir Tullus had mentioned food, I had forgotten that I’d had scant food all day. The pasties sat well on my belly. From the way Achoo gulped the one I passed along, it sat fine with her, too. Pounce was apparently uninterested, since he had curled up in a patch of sunlight and gone to sleep.
Sir Tullus put the document down at last and knocked back the contents of his wine cup, which he had not yet touched. He went to the door and opened it. “Good idea, to stay there,” he said to someone outside.
We heard his runner say pertly, “You did break the bellpull again, Sir Knight.”
“None of your sauce. Another round of those pasties, and the fritters I like,” he told her.
“Sir Knight, might she also bring twilsey or barley water?” Tunstall called. “Cooper’s not what you would call one for spirits.”
“Thank you,” I told my partner quietly. I’d never have had the sack to ask for myself.
“And some nice cold twilsey or barley water,” Sir Tullus said. “Off you go.” He closed the door.
We turned in our chairs to look at him. All of his normal ruddiness was gone. He’d spoken cheerfully enough to his runner, but the look on his face now was that of a cove who’d taken a hard shock. He came back to his desk and poured himself another cup of wine.
“Gershom’s orders are for me to send a number of messages out and wait on replies,” he told us, staring at the cup. “I’ll need to keep the two of you at hand for a couple of days. There’s a lodging house we use for out-of-town Dogs, Ladyshearth Lodgings.”
“I know it, Sir Knight,” I said. “Goodwin and I stayed there when we had our Hunt in ’47.” I glanced at Tunstall. “We didn’t have time when we were here the last couple of times, but you’ll like the place.”
“Good,” Sir Tullus said. He opened a drawer in the side of his desk. “You’ll need coin for a change of clothes.” I heard metal clink. At last Sir Tullus held up a small leather bag and tossed it to Tunstall. My partner weighed it in his hand, nodding with approval. “Account for every coin, r
emember,” Tullus said. “I’ll try to get you back to Corus for a day at least, to pack.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “I knew certain factions at court were getting restless, but I never thought they would be such idiots. Folk will lose their heads for this, and families their titles.”
“They should, if they had a hand in what we saw,” Tunstall replied, his eyes hard. “More than a hundred and thirty dead, with the King’s Own, the guard on the main gate, and the servants. That’s not counting their own people that they drowned or melted. They deserve not a whit of mercy.”
Sir Tullus nodded. “I don’t see why Gershom picked you two. Was there no one else?” I was starting to feel vexed and hurt when he looked at me and said, “It’s because of your loss, Guardswoman Cooper. Surely you would be happier at home.”
Here again was sympathy for my grief, grief I didn’t feel for a man I didn’t love anymore. I looked down, unable to bear the kindness in Sir Tullus’s eyes. I felt like a liar before him.
“She will not be happier at home,” Tunstall told him. “She has been good, Hunting with me, haven’t you, Cooper?” I nodded, and Tunstall continued, “And Jewel and Yoav are too old for this.”
Mastiff: The Legend of Beka Cooper #3 Page 13