I had expected her to turn around at least. She shifted her weight on her feet for a second, as though she would do so, but then she stilled and lifted her gown over her head without looking away. Aside from her shoes, socks, and garters, she was entirely nude before me.
We stood that way for a timeless second, our eyes locked. I was afraid to look anywhere else, for to do so would be to see something I shouldn’t. Her expression was almost challenging. Then she glanced away and to one side, blushing. “You could turn around,” she suggested.
“Oh!” I said, startled. Then, a second later, my brain started working. She could have turned around as well. Ignoring that thought, I picked up her dress and started to pass it behind me.
“Put the gown on first,” she commanded.
Resigned, I did so. It wasn’t easy. Rose was petite, but fortunately the gown was rather voluminous, so it was merely tight on me. The sleeves were loose, but the cuffs tore when I forced my hands through them, and the shoulders felt as though they would split at any moment. Behind me, my magesight revealed that she was still standing relaxed, making no attempt at modesty.
I took her dress up again and handed it to her, accidentally seeing more than I intended. That was no accident, I berated myself. After a minute, Rose reassured me, “You can turn around now.”
I did, and she presented her back, so I could redo the laces. Without the gown, the bare skin of her back seemed to burn my fingers. Penny’s going to kill me for this, I thought, and then ground my teeth.
She fussed with her sleeves and skirt for a moment and then asked me, “How do I look?”
Unbelievable, I thought, with or without the dress. “Uh, fine,” I said, fumbling for words.
“You’d never know I was naked beneath it, would you?”
How could I forget? “No,” I said, moderating my tone. “Just make sure they don’t get a close look at your back. They might figure it out if they look closely.”
“Good point,” said Rose, and then she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me.
Embracing her was nothing unusual, but after everything that had just happened I felt guilty and awkward. At the same time, I was still desperate for warmth. After only the briefest moment of hesitation, I returned the embrace.
She didn’t let go, and I began to wonder how long this would go on. “Uh, Rose? Are you going to release me?”
“I’m trying to warm you up.”
“But…”
“Shhh,” she told me. “My time is probably nearly up. When they come back for me, I’ll let go. Until then, you can have as much warmth as I can give.”
That nearly undid me. After nearly two days alone in the cold dark, my spirits were about as low as they could get. Her warmth and affection made me want to weep. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held onto her, hunching forward to bury my face against the warmth of her neck.
We stayed that way for what might have been a few minutes, but whether five minutes or ten, it was too short. The wall changed and Gareth’s voice entered the room. “Your time is up.”
I didn’t want to let go, but I did anyway and the chill of the room immediately struck me once more. It hadn’t bothered me as much before, perhaps because I’d given up, but now it felt worse.
Gareth glanced at me, taking in my new attire, but his only comment was, “Interesting.” Then he directed Rose, “The lantern too, milady.”
She looked defiant for a moment, but then, reluctantly, she picked up the lantern and carried it away with her. “We can’t leave him in these conditions,” she told Gareth as she stepped outside.
“Unless you can change the jailor’s mind, I won’t allow anything else within the cell,” he said coldly.
Rose cast angry eyes up at him. “I remember my friends, Lord Gaelyn.”
He smiled down at her. “Is that an inducement, milady? A threat might be better. What about your enemies?”
She had already turned away, striding down the corridor when she answered, “I make sure they remember me.”
Gareth looked back at me and then the wall became solid again, cutting off my view. The darkness swallowed me, and I sat back down on my bench, hating the way the stone bit into my sore flesh. My feet were still bare, and they soaked in the chill faster than any other part of me.
“Forgive me, Penny,” I said quietly, for all I could think was that I needed Rose to return. Was this what it was like for you, all those years ago? When the shiggreth held you and Dorian captive?
***
Rose walked briskly, taking the stairs that led up to the upper levels and nodding to the guards she passed there. When she reached the final station, where the warden, Regan, sat comfortably in his office, she stopped. She knocked on the door and waited.
After a moment, the door opened, and she was free of the dungeon once more. The warden stood close at hand. Regan was a large man with a frame that had probably been impressive at one time, but in the present was given over to a corpulent plumpness that made his appearance almost as repulsive as his personality. He grinned at her through rotten teeth.
“My things, if you will,” she reminded him.
“Oh, of course, milady,” he answered. He stepped away, entering another room and then returning with a wicker basket in his hand. The top was open, and a collection of items lay within: her daggers, two blankets, a small pillow, and the remains of a meal she had brought. The meat and cheese were gone, with only bones and a small apple remaining.
“You don’t care for fruit, I see,” remarked Rose.
“Apples hurt my teeth, milady,” said the chief jailor.
“The food wasn’t packed with your needs in mind. Nor did I intend for you to have it,” she said coldly.
Regan shifted uncomfortably. “You was told he couldn’t have anything from outside,” said the man. “I thought it was for me.”
She had already examined the man from head to toe, taking note of everything from his dirty boots to the smell that seemed to emanate from him. Her response was calculated. “If I brought enough for you and Lord Cameron next time, perhaps you would consider letting me bring it to him?”
“No can do, milady. You may be of high station, but rules is rules,” said the warden.
“You should think on that,” said Rose. “It wouldn’t hurt you to have a friend in high places.” Her eyes traveled downward. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could afford new boots?”
Regan’s face shifted, growing angry. “You may be all high and mighty, milady. But that man down there murdered the Queen’s husband. It’s worth more than my life if I break the rules.”
She had miscalculated. “Please pardon any offense I have given you, Master Regan. It was unintentional.” Then she left.
Chapter 18
Sir Gram stood on the battlements of Castle Lancaster, staring out over the open field that lay to the south. The moon was halfway to full, providing some illumination, but to his dragon-bond-enhanced vision it might as well have been full daylight. He didn’t like what he saw.
A camp of at least twenty ogres sat in the open field close to the edge of the forest. Calling it a ‘camp’ might be giving it too much credit, though. There were no tents or cookfires. The massive humanoids slept exposed to the elements. The only reason to call it a camp was that they slept scattered across a small area.
“Why now?” muttered Gram.
Matthew stood next to him. “I have a theory about that.”
Gram smirked. “When have you ever not had a theory?”
Matt ignored his remark. “When Elaine was trapped in the forest that was swapped with Lancaster, she said that the creatures of the forest were drawn to aythar. Even her invisibility drew them to her, though they couldn’t find her exact location.”
“That would explain the spiders last night. So, you think they’re here for you?” said Gram
.
Matthew nodded. “And Karen, and possibly even the magic radiating from your enchanted tattoo and Alyssa’s armor.”
“If that’s the case, then the people here would have been better off if we had never come,” observed the young knight.
Matthew sighed. “It’s too late now. If we leave at this point, they may try and raid the castle anyway.”
Karen appeared beside them suddenly, a look of panic on her features.
The fear alone was enough to tell Matthew what was wrong. “Spider?” he asked. She nodded frantically, still trying to catch her breath.
“I’ll go,” volunteered Gram.
Karen held up three fingers. “Three of them,” she panted.
“I’ll go then,” said Matthew. “It’ll be easier for me.” He made no attempt to point out that Karen could have taken them on herself. Since their encounter at the smithy, she had developed an irrational fear of arachnids. Or perhaps I should say ‘rational fear,’ observed Matthew. They are dangerous, after all.
Karen took his hand and the two of them vanished, leaving Gram behind. He stared into the empty space for a moment before muttering to himself, “Show off.” Or perhaps you just want to impress your girlfriend. Not that you’d ever admit it.
Gram took a moment to stare down the length of the wall to the far end, where Alyssa stood guard at the southeastern corner. He knew better than to worry about her. She could handle herself. Even so, he looked in her direction just as often as he looked to his own quarter in the southwest.
***
Manfred studied the heavy pouch in his hand without opening it. He could tell by its weight that it held gold inside. Without a word, he tucked it into his jacket, then reached up and twisted his thin moustache. It was a nervous habit he had never been able to rid himself of. Finally, he said, “You’ve already paid me for this month. Why the extra?”
“To compensate you for the trouble,” said Rose Thornbear. “I’ll require much more of you than usual in the coming days. You’ll need the money to pay informants and to pay for assistance.” She handed him a folded piece of paper. “There are three names at the top. Those are the names of the men I need you to hire. They are familiar with my requirements already, so don’t worry that they might haggle over the amount. Below those names you’ll find a list with the names of all the witnesses to be examined during the trial.”
Manfred’s eyes widened. “That sort of thing isn’t in my line of work, Lady Hightower.”
She smiled briefly, flashing white teeth. “Relax. I just want information. I need to know everything about them—their birthplaces, friends, acquaintances, time of service with the Prince—everything.”
The man opened the paper and quickly scanned it with his eyes. “What’s this name written separately at the bottom?”
“I thought you might know that name already,” said Rose, “considering your line of work.”
Manfred looked offended. “Only amateurs wind up in the dungeon.”
She patted his cheek. “Yet you know his name nonetheless. I want you to handle that matter personally. You can give the rest of it to others.”
Manfred frowned. “I’m a purveyor of information, milady. I don’t get personally involved anymore.”
“Time is of the essence,” Rose informed him. “I need this done properly and professionally. I’ll compensate you accordingly.”
“You need something specific?”
“Find the names of young prisoners who have recently been in his care. Ignore those without families. I’m only interested in the married ones. Get me the names of their wives,” explained Rose.
“Young prisoners?” Manfred seemed confused.
“Young men have young wives, Manfred,” said Rose. “Young sisters might do as well, but only if they visited them while they were locked up.”
“Ahh, I begin to see what you’re after,” said Manfred.
“Exactly why I want you to handle this yourself,” said Rose. “Once you have a good list, visit as many as you can find.” She handed him a second purse, this one smaller and filled with silver. “Dole this out as you need. I need leverage.”
“How soon do you need it?” asked the rogue.
“Tomorrow.”
Manfred let out a long whistle. “Hard evidence will be difficult to come by in such a short time.”
“For my purposes it doesn’t need to be provable, Manfred, just true. I’m not dealing with a peer of the realm. Trust your instincts and get me the names of the ones that will be most useful.”
Their conversation went on a short while longer, as she specified her needs regarding the other names. After Manfred left, Rose washed her face and returned to the main room.
Elise was waiting for her. “Tea?” offered the older woman.
Rose shot her a grateful look. “Yes, thank you.” She accepted a small cup and took a sip.
“Why haven’t you asked for my help?” said her mother-in-law suddenly.
Few people surprised Rose Thornbear, but on rare occasions it happened. This was one of them. She managed not to choke as she swallowed, then replied in a neutral tone, “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Elise sharply. “You’re proud, Rose, too proud. I suppose it’s a fault of your breeding, but then again, that’s why I approved of you marrying my son.”
It irritated her to hear Elise making judgements about the Hightowers, but then again, the old woman knew that as well. She’s trying to get under my skin. “Mother,” began Rose softly, “it’s long past time for you to be getting your hands dirty. Let me handle this.”
Elise chuckled and then made a show of looking around the room. “Mother, is it? I don’t see any of the children around. Are you thinking to coddle me with sweet phrases?”
Rose took a deep breath. She hadn’t had enough sleep over the past several nights, and her control was slipping. I’m doing this for your sake, she thought angrily, but her words were considerably calmer. “Did your lunch disagree with you? You seem out of sorts.”
“Don’t test me, girl. One of my children is in trouble, and I haven’t seen you doing much about it. Not that I would expect to, but since you’ve seen fit to keep me in the dark I can only assume you’re in over your head.”
By ‘one of her children,’ she was referring to Mordecai, of course. The old woman had often noted that she considered him like a son to her. When Rose failed to respond, Elise continued, “Does Meredith know they’ve locked up her son?”
“No,” said Rose evenly. “I haven’t sent any messages, yet.”
“Don’t you think she deserves to know?” demanded the old woman.
Rose set her cup to one side. “Actually, I intend to make a trip there today to inform his family. Trust me, Elise, I have things well in hand.”
“I suggest you share what you know, lest I take matters into my own hands,” warned Elise.
Alarm filled Rose and she leaned forward, almost rising from her seat. “You wouldn’t!”
Elise laughed at her reaction. It was rare that she got to see her daughter-in-law lose her composure. “You haven’t been sleeping enough, have you, girl? You’re starting to imagine things you shouldn’t. You know I would never hurt Ariadne. I love Genevieve’s children as much as my own.”
Feeling foolish, Rose relaxed. Then she grew irritated. The old woman had played her strings with an expert hand. The previous queen, Genevieve Lancaster, had been Elise’s best friend and confidante for most of the old woman’s many years. “Don’t tease me, Elise. I don’t have the nerves for it right now.”
An evil light appeared in the old woman’s eyes. “Who said I was teasing? I would never hurt the Lancasters, but there are plenty around the Queen right now who I would not hesitate to remove.”
“Don’t get involved in this,” said Rose, becom
ing more direct.
Elise made no pretense at hiding her anger. “Why not?”
Because you’re too old! Rose wanted to shout. What would Dorian think of me, if I continually drag his mother into the muck? “You’ve lived a long life, Elise. You deserve to enjoy it in peace.”
“How am I supposed to enjoy it with Mordecai facing the hangman’s noose?” declared Elise. Then her voice turned dark with regret. “You know how much I owe him and his family. Let me help.”
Her tone made Rose wince. Over four and a half decades ago, before Mordecai’s birth, Elise Thornbear had taught one of her darkest secrets to a priest. The man had been a member of the Church of Millicenth, the order that trained Elise and other young women like her as prostitutes and assassins. She had been given little choice, but the priest had used the recipe she taught him to wipe out nearly the entire Cameron family, and Elise had never fully forgiven herself for that.
Rose wanted to pull her own hair out in frustration. Her mother-in-law had her over a barrel. If she didn’t bring her in on her plans, the old woman might act on her own, possibly spoiling them. “Fine. I’ll explain everything to you, on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You do nothing without my approval,” said Rose. “I won’t have you upsetting the applecart.”
The old woman chuckled. “Fine.”
With the bargain set, Rose began to explain the situation. She left out nothing, aside from her personal feelings on certain matters and persons. She held nothing back, for she did not need to. Unlike most people, Elise Thornbear was more steeped in murder, larceny, spy craft, and the darkest secrets of politics than almost anyone alive. Rose didn’t have to worry about being misunderstood.
When she had finished, she felt better for sharing, and simultaneously guilty. Forgive me, Dorian, she thought to herself. Elise, on the other hand, seemed animated, almost happy. She eyed Rose craftily. “Do you know who did it?”
“I have a strong suspicion,” said Rose, “but it does me little good.”
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