“I’m ready.” Cas followed his brother out of the dungeon and up the stairs. Knowing that Ventillas lied to him.
Faro was not on his way to some ship. Cas did not know what had been done to his body. But Cas had seen him in his cell, a figure not whole or solid. He sat on his pallet with his arms wrapped around his knees and his hand a bloody stump. Rocking himself back and forth. Whispering one word over and over again.
A name.
Sorne. Sorne. Sorne.
20
A mass exodus took place throughout the morning. Wagons, packhorses, and carriages streamed past the keep’s doors as guests departed one by one. Ventillas had gone ahead to lead the train, leaving Cas with unanswered questions. He found Master Jacomel directing all from the bottom steps. Not grinning, exactly. A good steward was the soul of discretion. But as each visitor rode away, it seemed to Cas that Master Jacomel’s eyes gleamed brighter and his spirit grew freer.
Dark as his mood was, Cas had to laugh. “You have the keep to yourself. At long last.”
But Master Jacomel surprised him. “I imagine I’ll enjoy it for a day or so before it starts to feel too quiet. It was nice to have women in the keep. And children,” he added with a meaningful look in Cas’ direction.
“Not you, too.” Master Jacomel sounded like the king. Cas took in their surroundings, made sure no one could hear their conversation amid the noise and bustle. “Master Jac?”
“Mm?” The steward had turned his attention upward, where the sun held court in a cloudless sky. A smile appeared beneath his heavy mustache. “Ha. I could not have asked for better weather.”
“What happened to Faro?”
Master Jacomel’s head came down quickly. The smile vanished. “What do you mean?”
“He’s dead. I know he is. What happened to him?”
Thankfully, Master Jacomel did not ask Cas how he knew this. “Have you spoken to your brother?”
Cas waited until a group of nursemaids hurried by, each carrying a bundled infant. “He says Faro was taken away last night. To be put on a ship in the south.”
Master Jacomel was quiet. “Then that is what happened.”
“Master Jac—”
“If that is what he said, then I cannot tell you otherwise.”
Cas would find no answers here. The master steward served the lord of Palmerin, and that was Ventillas. A page sprinted by carrying a birdcage, the owl within hooting frantically. The boy slowed his steps, throwing back a sheepish grin when Master Jacomel called his name, ordering him to walk, do not run.
Cas turned at the sound of footsteps. Lena came down dressed for riding in forest green, hair gathered in a braid. Two lynx reclined halfway up the steps, eyeing her. One licked its paw. She gave them both a wide berth.
Cas said, “I thought you’d gone.”
“I’ve been hiding.” Lena stopped a few steps above him so that they stood eye to eye, and smiled. “Otherwise, I would have to share a carriage with Lady Rondilla, and that would not be good for anyone.” She turned to the steward. “Might I beg a horse from you, Master Jacomel?”
“Of course, Lady. Will he do?”
As the last of the carriages rolled away, Jon from the stables approached leading two horses: Cas’ white mare and a brown stallion. He was a beautiful horse, tall and proud, with a flowing black mane. But Lena did not want him. She descended the steps, murmured, “My, aren’t you a pretty one?” to the stallion, and walked right past him to the mare. Horse and girl greeted each other like old friends.
Master Jacomel regarded the mace on Cas’ back with disfavor. “That should have been returned to storage. We have swords to spare. I’ll have one fetched for you.”
“I like this mace.”
The look on Master Jacomel’s face said he would choose his battles. This was not one of them. “Your sword will be ready when you return. One month, is it?”
“Maybe more, maybe less. Don’t worry.”
Leading an entire court back to Elvira would take time. Longer if the weather did not hold, or if there were other unforeseen delays, which there always were. They would make camp on some nights. Others would be spent at inns and estates along the way. Cas did not know how long Ventillas planned to remain in Elvira, but with luck, they would return long before the cold dug its claws into the mountains.
Master Jacomel did not answer. Seeing the look in his eyes, Cas remembered the last time he had told him not to worry. It was the day he had set off to inspect the aqueducts. Three years ago. Deliberately, Cas placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll send word if we’re delayed.”
Master Jacomel’s hand came up to cover his in a firm grip. “See that you do.”
Lena loitered by his horse. She threw a look of mute appeal at Cas, who said, with amused resignation, “Just for today.”
His words were met with a wide smile. Declining Jon’s help, she placed her boot in the stirrup and swung onto Cas’ mare.
Master Jacomel took all of this in. “Women and children,” he murmured.
“Stop.”
Traveling as part of a train was vastly different from traveling on one’s own. Stops were frequent. To eat, to stretch, to walk pets, mostly tiny dogs and bad-tempered ferrets that did not actually walk—they were carried. The court’s first night would be spent in the open, as they were too far away from any manor or town.
Cas had been summoned to the front of the train, where he found Captain Lorenz chuckling and Ventillas shaking his head.
Captain Lorenz explained. “I was reminding your brother of the time you climbed to the top of the aqueduct and could not get down again.” He tipped his chin at the arches rising high on their right. The sound of water could be heard rushing through the pipes. “How old were you then? Four? Five?”
Cas had no recollection of it. “I don’t remember.”
“He was four,” Ventillas said, riding in the center.
“Makes my heart stop just thinking about it.” Captain Lorenz kneaded his chest with a gloved fist. “Ventillas would have been fourteen. He had to climb up and get you.”
“And my reward was a walloping from Father,” Ventillas added. “That was fair.”
“You were supposed to be watching him,” Captain Lorenz said dryly. “And somehow he ends up outside the city gates on top of the aqueduct, of all things. A walloping was a mercy.”
They rode past arches with footholds cut into the stone. Cas would have gone up that way. It was strange to think of his brother rescuing him, or neglecting him, in a time before his earliest memory.
Ventillas glanced over. “You’re very quiet. Something wrong?”
And Cas found he could not pretend. “You know what’s wrong.”
The captain’s eyebrows rose. Cas saw no reason not to speak in front of him. If Faro had been killed, his body removed, the captain likely knew about it.
Ventillas’ grip tightened on the reins. “I already—”
“I’m not a boy anymore, Ventillas. Easily tricked. I know Faro is dead.”
Captain Lorenz turned in his saddle. His hand came up to shield his eyes from the sun. “Ah. Something’s off with the supply wagon. I’ll just go see—”
“Stay, Captain,” Ventillas ordered softly.