“The church would never allow that,” said the other.
“Alric kicked the church out of Melengar months ago because he knew it would try to stop him,” Lane explained. “You have to understand that the Melengarians aren’t civilized people. They’re still mostly barbarians and slip further back into their tribal roots every year. Without the church to watch over them, they’ll be drinking the blood of virgins and praying to Uberlin before the year is out. They allow elves to run free in their cities, for Maribor’s sake. Did you know that?”
Arista could not see their faces as she stood beyond the doorway, carefully keeping herself hidden.
“So perhaps this is the nag the king of Melengar escaped on. He could be staying in one of the dorm rooms right now, plotting his next move.”
“Do you think Chancellor Lambert knows?”
“I doubt it,” Lane replied. “I don’t think a good man like Lambert would allow a menace like Alric to stay here.”
“Should we tell him?”
“Why don’t you tell him, Hinkle?” Lane said to the short fellow.
“Why me? You should do it. After all, you’re the one that noticed them.”
“Me? I don’t have time. Lady Chastelin sent me another letter today and I need to work on my reply lest she drives a dagger into her chest for fear I’ve forgotten her.”
“Don’t look at me,” said the remaining one. “I’ll admit it—Lambert scares me.”
The others laughed.
“No, I’m serious. He scares the wax out of me. I was sent to his office last semester because of that rabid rat stunt Jason pulled. I’d rather he’d just cane me.”
Together they walked off, continuing their chatter, which drifted to Lady Chastelin and doubts of her devotion to Lane.
Arista waited a moment until she was certain they were gone, then found the bags near the saddles and stuffed one under her arm. She grabbed the other two and quickly, but carefully, returned across the commons and slipped back up the stairs of Glen Hall.
Hadrian was not in the loft when she returned, but he had the lines up and blankets hanging from them to divide the room. She slipped through the makeshift curtain and began the miserable task of stringing out her wet things. She changed into her nightgown and robe. They had been near the center of her bag and only slightly damp. Then she began throwing the rest of her clothes over the lines. Hadrian returned with a bucket of water and paused when he spotted Arista brazenly hanging her petticoats and corset. She felt her face flush as she imagined what he was thinking. Not only did she travel unescorted with two men, but she was bedding down in the same room—albeit a large and segmented hall—and now she hung her undergarments for them to see. She was surprised they had not questioned her more intently. She knew the unusual circumstances she traveled under would eventually come up. Royce was not the type to miss something as suspicious as a maiden princess traveling alone in the company of two rogues, no matter how highly esteemed by the crown. As for her clothes, there was no other way or place to dry them safely, so it was this or wear them wet in the morning. There was no sense being prissy about it.
Royce entered the dorm as she finished her work. He was wearing his cloak with the hood up. It dripped a puddle on the floor.
“We’ll be leaving well before dawn,” he pronounced.
“Is something wrong?” Hadrian asked.
“I found a few students snooping around the carriage house when I made my rounds.”
“He does that,” Hadrian explained to Arista. “Sort of an obsession he has. Can’t sleep otherwise.”
“You were there?” she asked.
Royce nodded. “They won’t be troubling us anymore.”
Arista felt the blood drain from her face. “You … you killed them?” she asked in a whisper. As she said it, she felt sick. A few minutes earlier, listening to their horrible discussion, she had found herself wishing them harm, but she had not meant it. They were little more than children. She knew, however, that Royce might not see it that way. She had come to realize that for him, a threat was a threat no matter the package.
“I considered it.” No tone of sarcasm tempered his words. “If they had turned left toward the chancellor’s residence, instead of right toward the dormitories … But they didn’t. They went straight to their rooms. Nevertheless, we’ll not be waiting until morning. We’ll be leaving in a few hours. That way even if they do start a rumor about horses from Melengar, we’ll be long gone by the time it reaches the right ears. The empire’s spies will assume we’re heading to Trent to beg their aid. We’ll need to get you a new mount, though, before heading to Colnora.”