Page 107 of Given to the Black King

“Sergeant.”

“The king asks for you in the lower council room.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Two more men appear behind him.

Wrong boots again. Coast stitching at the heels.

The sergeant’s face changes.

He reaches for my arm.

I step back before he touches me.

“Who paid you?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“Osk?”

No answer.

“The coast houses, then.”

One of the men glances at the sergeant.

There.

I back toward the garden door.

The sergeant follows.

“You’ll be safer if you don’t make noise.”

“That is almost never true.”

I open the garden door and run.

They come after me.

Frost crunches beneath my shoes. I take the rose walk, exactly as planned. Narrow walls. One way through.

A strip of black cloth hangs from the first thorn, Torgan’s marker for the turn.

I pull it free as I pass.

Behind me, the sergeant orders the men to spread out. They cannot. The rose walk is too narrow.

I reach the potting wall and turn.

Knife in my hand.

The sergeant slows.

“You don’t know how to use that.”

“He showed me this morning.”