“It was Dandelion, my lord,” the groomer said, nodding at the restrained horse. “He must’ve taken exception to one of the guests’ horses and tried to kick down his stall walls. Instead he managed to shake a lantern down into some hay. We tried to put it out, but it spread like a torch set to dry tinder.”
“Not your fault, Kell,” Idwal said, picking up a long-handled hook. “This entire night has been a bloody fiasco—”
Dandelion screamed again, drowning out the last of Idwal’s words. The horse then kicked, nearly catching one groomer, before rearing and yanking the ropes out of the hands of the other two. People scattered, dropping buckets and other implements to get out of the way, while the groomers scrambled for the ropes they lost. Dandelion swung about, his back hoof lashing out again as he dragged the remaining groomer clinging to the last rope. I started over to help control the beast, but once more didn’t get very far. My arm was grabbed again, spinning me around, and I found myself face-to-face with Idwal.
“Are you an idiot?” he shouted over the noise and increasing roar of the flames.
My mouth fell open behind my kerchief. “What?”
Idwal made a fast gesture with the hook at my fire spheres. “Horses are already spooked. We don’t need you and your magic adding to it.” His eyes narrowed. “If you haven’t already done so.”
In the rush and worry, I’d forgotten about the aspects. Still, I wasn’t about to admit it. I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “One, this is the first time I’ve been anywhere near the barracks. And two, why would I set fire to my mates’ quarters?”
“First time here?” Idwal’s eyes narrowed more. “Where were you, then, when the fire started? Not in the king’s chambers. You arrived before I did and His Majesty’s rooms are farther away than mine. Much farther.”
Oh, sodding hell. My mind racing, I opened my mouth, but fortunately, before I could say anything, Suiden appeared out of the gloom.
“Lieutenant Rabbit was with me when the alarm sounded, Mearden,” he said.
Well, technically I was. And apparently that was enough as my truth rune remained quiescent. I waited—half angry, half curious—for Idwal to demand where Suiden had been, but the lord of Mearden merely stared at Suiden for a moment. He then ran his free hand over his face.
“I beg pardon, Your Highness, Lord Rabbit. This has not been a good night. Though I suppose it’ll get much worse if I stand here talking about it.” Dropping his hand, he hefted the hook and started for the barracks and stables. “All right, everyone, let’s pull the walls down before it spreads to the other buildings—”
“Not necessary, Eorl Mearden,” Wyln said, also appearing out of the night. “The fire’s out.”
“It is?” Idwal blinked at Wyln, then looked past the enchanter at the barracks and stables. The flames were gone and the smoke was much less. As we watched, even that disappeared, with just a few white wisps curling about the doors and windows. The bucket chains slowed before stopping altogether.
“How—?” Idwal broke off, stepping back as he took in Wyln’s eyes, bright with fire in the night. The elf gave him a gentle smile.
“I asked it nicely to stop,” Wyln said. “Laurel is calming down the horses.”
That was true. The horses had stopped fighting and fidgeting, with the groomers having recaptured all of Dandelion’s loose ropes. Still, the head groomer gave a quick “by your leave” and hurried off to make sure the mountain cat wasn’t harming the horses. However, at that moment, Dandelion snapped at someone who came too close and I wondered if the head groomer’s hurry was actually to keep the beast from harming Laurel.
A fresh breeze sprang up, carrying the scent of the ocean as it blew away the smoke, and I pulled my kerchief off my face, my gaze going over the arms yard. Groskin had the troopers lined up and I quickly scanned for gaps. However, it seemed that everyone had escaped the fire relatively unharmed and I relaxed as I found Jeff and Arlis. I then stiffened again as Jusson, Thadro, and a bevy of royal guards appeared. Thadro split off and went to the troops. However, Jusson headed for us, his gaze resting briefly on the fire spheres still floating over my shoulders.
“Is everyone all right, Captain Prince?” Jusson asked.
“All present and accounted for, Your Majesty,” Suiden said.
“Good,” Jusson said. “Now, what happened?”
Jusson listened to Idwal’s explanation as they toured the arms yard, Captain Suiden, some aristos, royal guards, and me trailing in their wake. We stopped to look over the horses and, mindful of my spheres, I fell far to the back, allowing plenty of space. I had tried a surreptitious dismissal of the fire aspect, but like air, it refused to leave and it remained crackling softly in my ear as I skulked with the Own making up the end of the king’s train. I’d expected Jeff and Arlis to join me, but they remained with the rest of the troopers and I figured Groskin had them helping sort through what was salvageable and what wasn’t. Berenice, Princess Rajya, and Munir weren’t present, which wasn’t really surprising. However, as far as I could tell, Kveta was also missing. I looked over at the barracks, worried that she might’ve gone in while it was still burning and had become injured. But people were combing both buildings, looking for hot spots, and if she were in either one, she would’ve been found. Frowning, I rose up on my toes and searched the arms yard, but the wolf wasn’t to be seen.
“Careful, Your Majesty,” Idwal said. “In normal times, Dandelion is not to be trifled with. And, as I had to remind Lord Rabbit, the horses are spooked from the fire.”
I stopped searching for Kveta to aim a look at Idwal and Jusson. They were standing a respectable distance away from Dandelion, the light from the torches giving Idwal’s face a saturnine cast. However, the king seemed unfazed at the Lord of Mearden’s not so subtle dig at me.
“We have seen our cousin’s horsemanship,” Jusson said. “We’re sure that he’s able to handle whatever vagaries the horse may have.”
From where I stood, all I could see of Dandelion was a hint of white-rimmed eyes and big teeth, but even so, I wasn’t so sure if I could handle said vagaries—or even if I wanted to get close enough to try. I waited for Idwal to disagree with the king, but after giving me a speculative look, Idwal just murmured, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and continued the tour.
After a brief inspection of the barracks and stables, it was determined that with the smoke and fire damage, neither was inhabitable. Idwal decided to send the horses to the lower pastures, which also had a stable, while the castle armsmen were to double up with the castle servants, and the troopers to move into the floor below royal chambers with the King’s Own. It would be tight, but the Freston patrols had bunked in close quarters before. We didn’t linger long after that; the breeze had brought with it the night chill and many were shivering by the time we headed back to the castle, the armsmen and troopers carrying their salvaged kits and trunks, me carrying just my staff and surrounded by my aspects. While the castle folk gave me plenty of space, the troopers did not. They remained close, trying to catch some warmth from the fire spheres. However, Jeff and Arlis weren’t among them. I fell back and, scanning the crowd, discovered them at the rear, standing with more lads from the Mountain Patrol, including Ryson. Swimming against the stream, I made my way to them—only to pull up short at the sight of Jeff’s expression.
“What happened?” I asked. I looked at Arlis and found his was no better. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Jeff said. “No thanks to dumb arse here.”
I blinked. Gone was their rapport over my naked bath in front of Berenice. “What?”
“If you hadn’t been so busy getting in my face and had instead minded where you’d put your clodhopping feet,” Arlis said, “then you wouldn’t have tripped when the alarm was raised.”
“Why was he getting in your face?” I asked.
“My feet were fine,” Jeff said to Arlis. “Until you moved yours.”
“I smell smoke and hear someone screaming fi
re, I’m not waiting for a written invitation to vacate the premises,” Arlis said. He shrugged his shoulders, a bored look replacing the anger on his face. “It was pandemonium—”
“And in the middle of the madness, I was the only one who fell,” Jeff said. “Pushed by you.”
Arlis’ look of boredom increased. “It was an accident. Deal with it.”
I quickly grabbed Jeff by the arm just as he launched himself at Arlis.
“Groskin’s looking this way,” Ryson said at the same time, his voice quiet.
Jeff, Arlis, and I all looked over to where the lieutenant stood in the emptying yard, his eyes golden as he watched us. For a moment, I nearly followed the other troopers as they melted into the night (old habits die hard). Then, realizing that Arlis was about to do his own disappearing, I grabbed his arm, holding both him and Jeff still.
“What the hell is this about?” I asked.
“What do you sodding care?” Jeff asked. He jerked his arm from my grasp and walked away, joining those heading inside. Arlis’ mouth twisted.
“And he accuses me of showing you my backside.” Pulling away, he went to where a mixture of Mountain and King’s Road patrollers were sorting through the kits, trunks, and royal baggage that had been stored in the barracks. A moment later there was a brief burst of laughter.
“According to some of the lads, Jeff thought Arlis was talking out of turn.”
Turning, I saw that Ryson had remained. “About the king?” I asked, frowning. “Damn. No wonder why Jeff’s upset. I suppose I’ll have to talk to Thadro—”
“No, not about the king,” Ryson said. “About you.”
The last of the castle folk were entering the keep, leaving behind isolated pockets of groomers, servants, and the troopers who were stacking our baggage to be stored elsewhere. There was another burst of laughter from where Arlis stood with the troopers. It cut off quickly, though, when Groskin wandered over. Deciding that I didn’t want to face my former lieutenant after all, I started for the keep, Ryson falling in alongside.
“You are his lieutenant, Rabbit,” Ryson said, unfazed by my silence. “Of course he would talk to his mates about you. Just like we’d talk about our commanding officers.”
“I never bad-mouthed the captain,” I said.
“No,” Ryson agreed. “Then, no one says anything bad about Suiden. No one dares. But you did say plenty about Groskin and the other lieutenants and captains. Even Commander Ebner.”
That was true. And though some of it was gently poking fun, some of it wasn’t so gentle, nor was it done in fun. But as Ryson pointed out, complaining about one’s commanders was a time-honored tradition. “That was different,” I said anyway.
“Was it?” Ryson shrugged. “Maybe so, seeing as you were never mates with Groskin and the rest.”
That was true. And the time that we could’ve become mates, Groskin took off after Slevoic, becoming the Vicious’ echo. I started to cast a dark look at my former lieutenant, then frowned. That had been dealt with and was now water under an increasingly distant bridge. Facing front again, I saw Kveta, standing nearby with some of the castle servants, and I relaxed—somewhat—in relief. So the wolf was safe.
“And maybe Arlis could’ve been a little more … careful in his word choices,” Ryson said, reclaiming my attention. He caught my glance. “No, I’m not going to tell you what he said.”
I blinked at that. Ryson passing up an opportunity to weasel was even more shocking than him bathing. Not that he smelled as sweet as he had earlier, but then neither did I, and both of our faces and clothes were smudged with soot and ashes. My afternoon bath was in the dim, distant past.
The reformed weasel let out a breath, and despite the smoke-and-ashes smell permeating the air, I realized he’d been not only using his toothstick, but chewing parsley too. “Did you know that I used to be a sergeant?” he asked.
There were shocks and then there were lightning bolts from out of the blue. Forgetting about both fresh breath and what Arlis had been saying to my former troop mates, I stared at Ryson. “No, I didn’t know.”
“Three times,” Ryson said, crooking a smile as we started climbing the stairs. “And three times busted back to trooper. I was a sword master, drilled both basic and advance forms.”
“You were?” Ryson was older than me, true, but he was nowhere near the age most masters were. If he had made sword master, then he was extraordinarily gifted. I tried to remember whether I’d ever seen him in the practice yard, but I had generally avoided him when we were at the garrison, as he tended to hang around the Vicious.
“Yeah.” Ryson’s smile faded. “One thing I learned is that punishment delayed festers.”
“What?”
“It’s been damn near a month since you’ve found out about Arlis and Slevoic,” Ryson said.
So it had. And unlike Ryson, Arlis had been much more involved in Slevoic’s plots and schemes involving smuggling goods, slaves, and body parts from the Border to Iversterre and markets beyond. However, Arlis said that he had no idea that the Vicious had also been heavily involved in the Spring Rebellion. I had believed him, but now I wondered if that weren’t the case.
“You know something I don’t?” I asked.
Ryson waved my doubts away. “No, as far as I can tell, Arlis spilled his guts,” he said. “But you’ve done nothing about it.”
“Oh,” I said. I shrugged. “That was Suiden, Ebner, and Thadro’s call as it was before he became my guard.”
“He knew about the plot involving Helto and the acting troupe after he became your guard, and he told nobody,” Ryson pointed out. “He should at least be told off for withholding information.”
“But he reports to Thadro,” I began. Jusson had made it very clear when he appointed Jeff and Arlis as my personal guards that the chain of command bypassed me to go directly to the lord commander.
“You’re his lieutenant,” Ryson said, not caring about the king’s directives. “You’ve got to do something, Rabbit, and do it now. It’s not fair to put it off any longer. Not to him, not to the other guardsmen, not to the troopers. It’s part of the reason why he’s acting the way he is.”
“Part?”
Ignoring my question, Ryson frowned—and suddenly it was easy to believe that he’d been a sergeant and master. “Everyone’s waiting to see what you’re going to do. And maybe that’s why the king and lord commander haven’t done anything—they’re also waiting to see what you’re going to do.”
I nearly tripped over my feet. “You think they’re testing me?”
“Maybe,” Rison said again, “but whatever reason, something must be done.”
“Truth,” Groskin grunted, and I looked back to see that the lieutenant had left the baggage troopers and joined us. “My advice is if you bust him back to trooper, don’t return him to his old unit. Give him to Suiden. Javes is a good captain, but Suiden has had more experience with lads who have made a mess of their lives. He’ll keep Arlis on the straight and narrow.”
“Yeah,” Ryson said, grinning. “Look at us. Once excuses for troopers, but now riding with the king—”
“I’m not busting him back,” I said.
Both Groskin and Ryson stopped climbing to stare at me, and I stopped with them. “You want him guarding your back?” Ryson asked, his voice rising.
My mind flashed to Freston’s town square and Arlis, down on one knee in front of a makeshift altar, his eyes red-rimmed, his sword bloody. Jeff lay beside him, so pale and still, all around them the dead and dying, the wails of grief from the few living muted and distant as they held in their arms family and friends that they’d just killed in their demon-induced delirium. I closed my eyes, but still saw it, vivid and fresh as the day it happened.
Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and started climbing again. “I will deal with Arlis,” I said quietly.
Silently trudging into the great hall, we were met by Lady Margriet, who, unlike her husband, had removed her earlier fine
ry and wore a much plainer gown. If she were dismayed at the soot and ashes being dragged into her home, she didn’t let on. Though busy seeing to the smattering of light burns and bruises, she signaled as we appeared and a circulating servant carrying a tray with steaming cups headed our way. I didn’t take one, however. The last thing I wanted was more mulled wine. Apparently Jusson hadn’t wanted wine either. He was standing empty-handed as he spoke with Thadro, Idwal, and Suiden. As I watched, another servant walked up to the royal klatch and proffered a tray. Shaking his head, Jusson turned and headed for the grand staircase. Lady Margriet hurried after him.
“Shall I send hot water up for you, Your Majesty?” Lady Margriet asked. So maybe she was dismayed a little.
“For ourselves, no,” Jusson said as he started to climb. “For our guards and soldiers, if they want it.”
Figuring that Finn could heat some water for me to rinse the worst of the grime off, I followed Jusson up. It seemed that very few took Lady Margriet up on her offer of refreshments as the same amount of folks were with us. The aristos did angle off at the top of the gallery, and the mass of troopers peeled off at the lower floor of the royal chambers, but those staying in the king’s chambers continued up the winding steps, where we were bowed in by Cais. Sighing, I unbuckled my sword and headed for my room.
“A moment, Cousin.”
At Jusson’s words, I turned, retraced my steps, and was waved to a seat as the king conferred with his majordomo. Sitting, I propped my staff against my chair, and waited, staring blearily at the butterflies still sleeping on the mantelpiece despite the commotion of our return. Though there wasn’t as much noise and bustle as there could’ve been. I’d expected that the King’s Own and servants displaced by the troopers on the lower floor would move to the top floor, but to my mild surprise the minihall contained only the requisite number of both. A number that didn’t include Jeff or Arlis. Apparently my personal guards were still nursing their snits. Frowning, I started to push back to my feet, but at that moment the door opened and Thadro and Suiden walked in. I continued rising but at a faster rate.
Shadows Past: A Borderlands Novel Page 13