Once you are in the castle, you will make note of everything you see. Troop counts, location of the guards, artillery on the battlements, entrances and exits, defensive positions, any weakness that can be exploited. There is nothing too large or too small for you to consider.
And finally, once you’ve had your audience with the king, you will make it your business to discover where in the castle the Feyreisen and his mate are lodged. Every detail you noted about the castle, you will also note about their location. Where it is, all the ways to access it, what time they rise and retire, how many and which warriors guard them, anything and everything you can think of. You will find a way to secrete this stone in their room or just outside it.
The guards escorted Dervas across the outer courtyard, which housed stables, secondary barracks, training fields, as well as houses and workshops for the small, walled city that was Kreppes. A second gated wall surrounded the pentagon-shaped inner castle. Dervas noted the towers every two tairen lengths along the battlements of the crenellated second wall, the location of the armory and second barracks, each set of stairs leading up to the battlements, the number of guards standing the walls.
Only a handful of Fey stood among the Celierians on the walls, and that surprised him. Dorian was such a Fey-lover, he’d hand over the keys to the kingdom if he could.
“Great Lord Sebourne?” They had reached the main building entrance. A young soldier wearing the Celierian blue-and-gold tabard of the King’s Guard stood on the steps. He bowed deeply. “I am Lieutenant Arvin, my lord. My men and I will escort you to the king.” Another six Guardsmen stood just inside the arching doorway with its wide, steel-reinforced door. Arvin nodded to the gate guards, who saluted and headed back the way they’d come.
“I apologize for the armed escort, my lord,” Arvin said, as they walked through the keep. “Tensions are high. I do hope you understand.”
Dervas wanted to snap that he understood a great many things, including the fact that the Fey had poisoned the king’s mind, but he held his tongue. He was here to mend fences and salvage what he could of his power and his standing in the court.
“If surrendering my weapons and submitting to armed escort will set my king’s mind at ease, then I surrender and submit gladly,” he lied. They crossed the main hall. At the back of the hall, a stairway led up to a second level. There were two doors on the left and an open archway on the right. Two of the King’s Guard stood beside each of the doors and the archway.
“Thank you, my lord. I appreciate your gracious understanding.” Lieutenant Arvin stopped beside the second door on the left. “The king has granted this audience to you alone, my lord. Your men must remain here.”
Sebourne motioned for his men to step back.
“There is one final thing, my lord. I have been commanded to search you before you enter the king’s presence.”
Sebourne’s brows shot up towards his hairline. He had accepted every slight with grace, but this was too much. His ire spewed out before he could check it. “Search me? What in the gods name for, boy? Do you think I have a sword stuffed up my ass? I am a Great Lord of Celieria! I was asked to surrender my weapons, and I have done so. You have my word I carry no other weapon on my person. That should be more than sufficient for you!”
The lieutenant would not be swayed or intimidated. He remained instead, polite but firm. “Please, my lord. I must insist. King’s orders.”
Dervas huffed and snorted and glared—and muttered in a dark voice about the end of the civilized world—but in the end he submitted to the abominable indignity of a search. He knew exactly why he was being subjected to it. Dorian meant to humiliate him, to put him in his place, to remind him there was no right or power even Great Lord Sebourne enjoyed except by the consent of the king.
What of the king, master? When we were in Celieria City, Master Nour said that when we reached Kreppes, I was to kill Dorian.
That was the original plan, but now that the Feyreisen and his mate have come, the plans have changed. Your new mission is to assist in the capture of the Tairen Soul’s mate.
Yes, master, of course… but Dorian… please, I would still like the honor of killing him… now more than ever. For my son.
And so you shall, but locating the Feyreisa is your first priority. And it is to that aim that you will devote all your efforts. Once you have provided me the information I require and put that stone in place, your reward will be the honor of killing Celieria’s king.
After a thorough pat down, the lieutenant led Sebourne through the door and down the connecting hallway. They passed five doors, three on the left, two on the right, before the hallway made a thirty-degree turn to the right. Two more of the King’s Guard stood at attention beside the fourth door on the right. The door led to a small, windowless interior sitting room, fairly bare by court standards, though the two couches and chairs that occupied the room were of obvious quality. There was a closed second door at the back of the room, flanked by more guards.
“Make yourself comfortable, my lord. I will let His Majesty know you are here.” The lieutenant bowed deeply a final time, went to rap softly on the back door, then slipped inside.
Dervas cooled his heels in the small sitting room for the better part of a bell. Though several people came and went through that guarded back door, no one came to summon him. No one came to look after his needs or offer him refreshment. No doubt the waiting and the deliberate lack of polite comforts were more small punishments.
And now, my umagi, I am going to erase all memory of this conversation until it is time for you to fulfill your task. This is for your sake as well as ours. With your memories gone, even a shei’dalin as powerful as the Tairen Soul’s mate could Truthspeak you but still learn nothing of value.
At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened again. King Dorian’s valet, Marten, stepped into the sitting room. “Great Lord Sebourne? His Majesty will see you now.”
“That dimskull Dorian has reinstated Sebourne.”
Ellysetta looked up at Rain in shock as he shed his golden war steel and prepared for bed. “What?”
“Aiyah.Told me so himself half a bell ago.” Rain dragged a hand through his hair in a distracted gesture and sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t call Dorian a dimskull. We’re desperate for troops. I can understand why he did it.” He met her gaze. “But I have a bad feeling about this, Ellysetta. I don’t trust Sebourne.”
“You think he will betray us?”
Rain shrugged. “I don’t know. I told Dorian he should at least let Gaelen check Sebourne and his men for Marks, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Sebourne is still a powerful, well-connected Great Lord with many supporters. He fears that alienating Sebourne—especially after what happened with Colum—would spark a civil war.”
“He may be right.”
“I know.” Rain slid under the covers and pulled Ellysetta into his arms. “But I still have a bad feeling about this.”
