Once inside the palace, they appeared at the office as the steward, Baron Giles, was leaving. “There you are,” he said in an accusatory tone. “I thought I was going to have to send guards to ferret you out of wherever you were lazing away the day.” Jimmy and Locklear exchanged glances. The steward seemed to have forgotten about the manifest entirely. Jimmy handed it to him.
“What’s this?” He examined the paper. “Oh yes,” he remarked, tossing the paper upon his desk. “I’ll deal with that later. I must be off to see the procession depart the palace. You will stay here. Should any emergency arise, one of you will remain in this office while the other will come and find me. Once the bier has left the gate, I will return.”
“Do you anticipate any problems, sir,” asked Jimmy.
Walking past the boys, the steward said, “Of course not, but it always pays to be prepared. I shall return in a short time.”
After he left, Locklear turned to face Jimmy. “All right. What’s going on? And don’t you dare say “You’ll see.” “
“Things are not what they seem to be. Come on.”
Jimmy and Locklear dashed up the stairs. Reaching a window overlooking the court, they quietly observed the preparations below. The funeral procession was assembling, the rolling bier moving into place, escorted by a hand-picked company of Arutha’s Household Guard. It was pulled by a matched set of six black horses, each bedecked with black plumes and handled by a groom dressed in black. The soldiers fell in on each side of the bier.
A group of eight men-at-arms came from within the palace, bearing the casket containing Arutha. They moved to a rolling scaffolding that allowed them to raise the casket high atop the bier. Slowly, almost reverently, they hoisted the Prince of Krondor up onto the black shrouded structure.
Jimmy and Locklear looked down into the casket and, for the first time, could clearly see the Prince. Tradition held the procession should move out with the casket open so the populace could behold their ruler a last time. It would be closed outside the city gates, never to be opened again, save once more in the privacy of the family vault below the King’s palace in Rillanon, where Arutha’s family would bid him a final farewell.
Jimmy felt his throat tightening. He swallowed hard, moving the stubborn lump. He saw Arutha had been laid out in his favourite garb, his brown velvet tunic, his russet leggings. A green jerkin had been added, though he had rarely worn such. His favourite rapier was clasped between his hands, and his head remained uncovered. He seemed asleep. As he was moved out of view, Jimmy noticed the fine satin lounging slippers on the Prince’s feet.
Then a groom came forward, leading Arutha’s horse, which would follow behind the bier, riderless. It was a magnificent grey stallion, which tossed its head high and struggled against the groom. Another ran out and between the two of them they managed to quiet the fractious mount.
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. Locklear turned in time to notice the odd expression. “What?”
“Damn me, but something’s odd. Come on, I want to see a thing or two.”
“Where?”
But Jimmy was off, saying merely, “Hurry, we only have a few minutes!” as he ran down the stairs. Locklear chased after, groaning silently.
Jimmy hid in the shadow near the stable. “Look,” he said as he pushed Locklear forward. Locklear made a show of strolling past the stable entrance as the last of the honour guard’s mounts were being led out. Nearly the entire garrison would be walking behind the Prince’s bier, but once outside the city, a full company of Royal Lancers would act as escort all the way to Salador.
“Hey, you boy! Watch what you’re about!” Locklear had to jump aside as a groom ran from the stable between two horses, holding their bridles. He had almost run Locklear down. Locklear ambled back and ducked around the corner beside Jimmy.
“I don’t know what you expected to find, but no, it’s not there.”
“That’s what I expected to find. Come on,” ordered Jimmy as he dashed back toward the central palace.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Locklear stared daggers into Jimmy’s back as they ran across the marshalling yard.
Jimmy and Locklear dashed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Reaching the window overlooking the courtyard, they gasped for breath. The run to and from the stable had taken ten minutes, and the cortege was about to leave the palace. Jimmy watched closely. Carriages rolled up to the steps of the palace and pages ran forward to hold open the doors. By tradition only the royal family, by blood and marriage, would ride. All others would walk behind Arutha’s bier as a sign of respect. Princess Anita and Alicia walked down and entered the first carriage, while Carline and Laurie hurried to the second, the Duke nearly skipping he was walking so fast. He almost leaped into the carriage after Carline, rapidly pulling the curtains over the windows on his side.