I place perhaps less trust in them than he does, but it is the best we can do under the circumstances.
And then it is time to go. My heart beats with anticipation, and the thrill of a new adventure tingles through my limbs. Feeling saucy, I turn to the abbess. “Will you not invoke Mortain’s blessings on our venture, Reverend Mother?” While I ask it of her out of spite, I realize I would like His blessing, for all that He and I are at odds with each other right now.
Her nostrils flare in irritation, but she bows her head and places a hand on my coifed hair. “May Mortain guide you and keep you in His dark embrace,” she intones, then removes her hand quickly. Even so, I feel somewhat calmer, as if Mortain has somehow heard her in spite of her ill grace.
We leave the palace through the servants’ quarters, but since it is late and most are abed, our passing goes unnoticed.
Outside, a disreputable-looking donkey awaits with two baskets, one on either side. They are even filled with laundry.
Commander Thabor speaks to me in a low voice. “We have identified all the vulnerable spots in the city: the gate towers, the sally ports, the bridges, the cistern, and the gates along the river.”
“Excellent. What of the patrols?”
“We have doubled the watch along the city walls and increased the number of patrols at their base.”
“Where do you suggest we begin?” I ask.
“The east gate, then we will work our way around to the other gates.”
“Very well. Lead on.”
Thabor nods and walks purposefully ahead while his men scatter out so that it will not appear as if we are together. It would not do for me to be seen with them, for what business would the captain of the city guard have with a laundress? I know it is supposed to give me comfort, being followed by the guards, but it makes the skin between my shoulders twitch, which I force myself to ignore.
The city streets are quiet, as all smart or respectable citizens closed their doors and shutters and took to their beds long ago. As we move through streets full of houses leaning drunkenly against one another, the clop-clopping of the donkeys’ hooves echoes off the cobblestones and sounds loud to my ears. However, if people hear us, they just snuggle deeper in their beds or ensure their doors are latched.
The buildings become smaller and seedier as we move farther away from the palace area. Meager shops and small taverns are interspersed among these smaller houses, and the streets are louder. At last we reach the military road that runs along the city wall. No one but soldiers should be on this road at this time of night. We pass three small watchtowers before we finally come to the east gatehouse. Commander Thabor walks past as if hurrying on some business of his own, but he will find some shadow in which to wait for me.
Still leading the donkey, I walk up to the gatehouse and halt just outside the door. The sound of murmuring voices reaches me, as the men on watch amuse themselves by telling stories. I hoist one of the baskets from the donkey’s back, settle it on my hip, then head for the door. The guard on duty watches my approach with lazy eyes. “What do you want?” he asks.
“I am looking for Pierre de Foix.” It is the name of a soldier who has taken ill with the flux and is even now abed in the infirmary. He will most definitely not be on duty.
“He is not here, so you may be on your way.”
My eyes snap with irritation—I do not even have to pretend—and I swat the basket of laundry in annoyance. “He owes me four sous for his laundry. I do not do this backbreaking work out of pity.” I take a step closer to him, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Ah, perhaps that is it. Perhaps Pierre has lost all his money dicing. How do I know you are not hiding him, eh? I think he has spent all his money on gambling and will not pay me for my honest work.”
“Honest work,” the guard scoffs.
Like a fishwife, I am merciless. “He told me he was to be on duty this night at this post. Why would he lie to me unless he was trying to cheat me? I will report him to your captain.”
Before I can continue, the guard reaches out, grabs my free arm, and pulls me close. “Do not call me a liar, wench, else I will have to punish you. Here. Look.” With that he pushes me through the gatehouse door and holds me there. “See with your own eyes that the man you seek is not here, then be gone.”