A few paces before they reached it, a shabbily dressed nobleman limped up and seized Kurtz’s arm. “Master Chazir, do you know me?”
Kurtz frowned. “Should I?”
“Let him go, Your Grace,” Verdot said. “This is Yagil Hamartano, imprisoned for treason after the Battle of Armonguard. He fought for Nathak.”
Cole had never seen the former Duke of Cela Duchy, but he had watched his son Silvo die, killed by Lord Nathak’s black magic. The duke’s tattered silk tunic and leather jerkin hinted at his former wealth, but his gaunt face and trembling frame showed the toll of starvation.
“Can’t the duke afford one of your special apartments?” Kurtz asked. “Or at least a decent meal?”
“Not everyone qualifies,” Verdot said. “Leave him.”
“They killed my son,” the duke whispered. “Now they’re trying to kill me. Look!” He held out a fistful of white petals. “I found these in my bed.”
“That’s because your daughter, Princess Jaira, sent money for flowers,” Verdot said. “A generous amount.”
The duke’s eyes bulged. He clutched Kurtz’s sleeve. “They’re working with the women now, don’t you see? The black knights and the mages together. Tell your king. Get me out, or no one will be able to stop them.”
“All right, Your Grace. That’s enough.” Verdot gestured to a pair of guards.
They seized the duke, who thrashed against them. “No! If you don’t listen, I’ll die! They’re working together. Trying to kill me. Have mercy and help me!”
Mistel clutched Cole’s arm and tucked her face behind his shoulder. He covered her hand with his.
“He’s not well,” Verdot muttered, leading them forward.
“What kind of flowers did you buy him?” Kurtz asked.
“If you must know, I had Tom purchase a starfrost plant,” Verdot said. “Rare, expensive, and fitting for winter.”
“Very fitting,” Zanna said.
“And not at all poisonous,” Verdot added.
He led them through a series of dimly lit corridors. The air reeked of mildew and decay. Their boots scuffed over frosty stone, and chains clanked in the distance.
Cole’s heart pounded. He was about to see Uncle Crispen, whom he’d long thought dead. Would the man even remember him?
Verdot halted before a scarred iron door where two guards stood watch.
“He in there?” Verdot asked.
“Yes, sir,” one of the guards said.
“Open it, and keep it open. You go inside. Benton stays out here with the rest.”
“Yes, sir.” The first guard pulled a ring of keys from his belt and swiftly found the right one.
“Just you, Master Tanniyn,” Verdot said as the guard unlocked the door. “The rest wait here with Benton.”
“And you?” Kurtz asked.
“I’ll be in my office. When you’re done, Benton will bring you to me. One hour.”
Mistel squeezed Cole’s hand. Kurtz nodded as Cole passed over his lute.
Time to face a ghost.
Chapter 27
