Determined to deflect it for now, Corwin waved in greeting. “Captain Jaol, how nice of you to greet me personally.”
Jaol bowed, revealing the bald patch on the top of his head. He was a tall man, slight of build and with a nose like a twig snapped in half. “Welcome home, your highness,” he said, coming up from the bow. “We received word of your arrival, and I’m glad to see you are well and whole again.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be well and whole.”
Jaol didn’t smile at Corwin’s poor attempt at cheek. He motioned behind him. “Your brother is in the courtyard. There’s been a bit of excitement this morning.”
Excitement? Corwin arched an eyebrow but didn’t ask for more. Not when he could hear the commotion from here. He dismounted and handed his horse to one of the grooms who had rushed up from the stable the moment they’d arrived in the bailey. The others in the company followed suit.
Master Raith, who’d been riding at the back of the procession, led his horse to the front and bowed to Corwin. From behind his mask he said, “Your highness, with your permission, I will give my fee summary to the clerk, then be on my way. I’ve business at my order’s house.”
“Of course,” Corwin said. “Thank you for your service. If I may ask, would you mind keeping me informed of any news you hear about the daydrakes?”
Raith inclined his head. “And I would ask you the same. My order is the most at risk from these attacks.”
“Yes, I understand.” As the defensive order, the blues protected all the caravans. Corwin clapped the man on the back, surprising himself by the ease of the gesture. It seemed he’d grown fond of this particular magist. “The moment I hear anything, so shall you. I’ll send word to your house if you’re not presently in the city.”
“Thank you.” Raith bowed again, then handed his horse off to a groom. Before departing, he said good-bye to Signe, Bonner, Dal, and finally to Kate, who had drifted slightly away from the group, as if she hoped to make a quick escape. He whispered something into her ear that made her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. Corwin wondered what it was, but the noise in the courtyard beckoned to him once more.
He turned and strode across the bailey, through the main archway between the east and west wings, and into the cobblestoned courtyard. A large circular fountain, bearing another set of statues honoring Niran and Nelek in its center, occupied the middle of the courtyard. On a normal day, the place was quiet and empty save for a page scurrying to fulfill some duty or a wagon or carriage delivering goods or guests. But today it was full of people; courtiers, nobles, and servants crowded around the edges, all of them with their attention fixed on the group of men standing near the fountain.
Corwin spotted his brother among them, along with all the members of the high council: Minister Rendborne, master of trade; Knox, master of arms; Porter, master of coin; Fletcher, master of the hearth; Nell, master builder; and Alaistar Cade, master of horse, who had once served as second under Kate’s father. If it hadn’t been for the location, Corwin would’ve thought this was a council meeting. Grand Master Storr, head of the Mage League, and Maestra Vikas, head of the gold order, who were not part of the council, were present as well.
What are they doing out here? he wondered, but then his eyes fell on the thing lying in their midst. He recognized the black scales and the dragonish shape of the body.
A dead daydrake.
Corwin passed through the crowd, which parted at the sight of him, and stepped up beside his brother. “Where did you get that?” he said.
Edwin turned his head toward Corwin, the look of surprise on his face quickly giving way to annoyance. “And a welcome home to you, too, brother.”
Corwin was too intrigued to feel guilty about his lack of diplomacy. This was the first time he’d been able to examine a daydrake closely, and although dead, it was no less intimidating. This specimen was roughly the size of a small bear. It lay halfway on its side, mouth opened to reveal the sharp teeth, and with its right foreleg extended out in front of it, the claws spread like curved daggers set up in a row. Its neck had been partially severed from its body. Corwin covered his mouth as its putrid stench reached him.
“What happened?” Corwin turned his gaze fully on Edwin for the first time. Surprise struck him at Edwin’s unkempt state. Blood and dirt smeared his tunic and breeches, and fresh scratches lined his forearms. Nevertheless, Edwin still cut an imposing figure. Tall and elegantly handsome, he sported a lighter shade of blond hair than Corwin’s and his eyes were their mother’s hazel. Sometimes when Corwin looked at them, all he saw was her.
“I came across that thing when I was out riding,” Edwin replied. “It’s the same as what attacked you on the road to Andreas, yes? A daydrake?”
Corwin nodded, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. Some of the travelers they’d passed on the road spoke of daydrake sightings around Marared. That city was a little farther east than Andreas and Farhold, but not much. But this one had made it all the way to Norgard already. “Where were you riding?”
“On the road toward Penlocke.”
South then. Only—“There was just the one?”
“Yes, and a good thing, too, or I might not have come through it at all.” Edwin rubbed his hands together as if trying to clean away the blood. “My pistol shot only wounded it, but when it jumped at me, I was able to use the force of its leap to cut its throat with my sword.”
“You did well, your highness,” Minister Knox said. The large, burly man looked elderly with his gray hair and skin like crumpled parchment, but Corwin knew from experience he was still fit enough to pummel men half his age—as he did often in his arms lessons.
Several of the people around them echoed the sentiment, and Corwin reminded himself that whatever was said and done here would be discussed and passed along until the entire city knew the story, or some version of it.
“I’m glad you’re all right, Edwin, but I’m surprised there was only one.” Corwin stooped nearer the daydrake for a closer look. “They seem to run in packs, same as nightdrakes.” Still, one could be dangerous enough. And it attacked my brother, Corwin realized. First the Gregors, then him, and now Edwin. If the Rising was behind this, then their purpose was clear—to unseat the power of Norgard.
Nervous chatter broke out all around them, several of the courtiers daring to come closer.
“How can we be safe with these creatures terrorizing the daytime?” someone asked. The question was repeated in a dozen different variations as it swept through the crowd.
Minister Rendborne raised his hands, the right one bearing a large magestone ring that glowed dully in the sunshine filling the courtyard. Whatever vanity the magic allowed him, Corwin couldn’t guess, but the master of trade was easily the most dashing member of the royal council, with striking eagle eyes, golden hued and sharp. He was also the most comfortable with public speaking.
In a loud voice he said, “Have no fear. The Tormane family has always kept us safe and will continue to do so. Have faith in the high king!”
The speech had little effect, despite Rendborne’s enthusiasm and charismatic manner. Most of these people lived in the castle, and either they knew firsthand of King Orwin’s sickness or they suspected it strongly. How could they have faith in a king so infirm that he was rarely seen outside his personal chambers?
The realization of their doubt spurred Corwin into action. He walked over to the fountain just beyond the drakes’ body and climbed onto the edge.