“I suppose there is no doubt that it was poison, now that the healer has identified the herb that was used,” Dareena said with a sigh. “I just wish I knew who had done it. I am certain the cooks weren’t responsible, but there were so many staff members coming in and out. Anyone could have slipped it into my drink.”
“We’ll have all the kitchen staff searched for warlock rings or other amulets and poisons,” Drystan said, “but it is unlikely we will unmask whoever is responsible so easily.”
“True,” Dareena said ruefully. “I will speak to my ladies and see if they noticed anything amiss. Does Alistair know what happened?” She was surprised he hadn’t barged into the bedroom to come check on her.
“No, he left on a short errand,” Drystan said. “But he will hear of this as soon as he returns, and we will discuss tightening security measures. For the remainder of your pregnancy, you must have a food tester. I will inform all three of your ladies that they must eat from the same dishes and drink from the same jugs several minutes before you are allowed to touch them.”
“All three of them?” Dareena protested. “Drystan, I understand your concern, but their lives are valuable too. Surely just one will do.” Though putting any of them at risk, even Lyria, made her stomach turn, she did recognize the necessity of it. Breaking the curse was far more important.
“One is not enough,” Drystan said firmly. “Poisons and drugs do not always affect people easily. If one of your ladies turns out to have a natural resistance, then you might still imbibe something dangerous. Besides, we will make sure everyone knows that you have three taste testers. Once the person responsible hears of this, they will be very unlikely to try again.”
“Very well,” Dareena relented. She was not looking forward to informing her ladies about this, especially Lyria. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer to the dragon god to make the next few months pass quickly. The sooner the babe was born, the sooner she would be free.
10
Lucyan showed up at Castle Inkwall at precisely six in the morning. He announced himself to the guards at the gate, who allowed him to pass without incident and directed him to the south tower, where the steward’s office was located. As he hurried across the grounds, the shadow of the big, black castle loomed over him. The structure was somehow both beautiful and monstrous at once, with winged creatures perched on the turrets and spires, and detailed carvings in the pillars and arches. Naturally, metal had been worked into the architecture of the building, with various brass fixtures glinting in the sunlight. The architect who had built this place had a flair for the dark and dramatic, but that was not surprising. Many warlocks did.
Blast it, Lucyan thought as he rounded the building. Outside the tower, a large group of people were gathered, obviously there for the same reason he was. As Lucyan approached the crowd of tough-looking types who had responded to the advertisement, he estimated there were around a hundred men and twenty women.
Oh well, he thought as he joined them, sidling his way to the front. Nothing like a little bit of friendly competition to start your day.
A few minutes after Lucyan arrived, the door to the steward’s office opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with shoulder-length black hair came out, flanked by several staff members. They were all dressed in black and gold tunics—the house colors—but the steward was identifiable by the pin on his lapel.
“Good morning,” he said in a booming voice, once the crowd had quieted down. “Is there anyone present who is not here to try out for the position advertised in the paper?”
Two hands went up, and the steward motioned for one of his staff to take care of those people. “All right,” he said as the couple was taken away. “Are there any among you who cannot read or write?” A few more hands went up, and they were sent away, grumbling. “Any who are married, or have children?” About ten more. “Very good. The rest of you may proceed with the tryouts. You will all be put through various physical tests today to determine whether you are fit for the job. The twenty top applicants will be offered positions. May the best men and women win!”
A cheer went up from the crowd, though Lucyan remained silent. Despite the large number of contenders, he had no doubt he would win. After all, these people were only human.
The applicants were led out to a training field behind the castle, where various props and weapons had been set up. They were handed off to the castle’s training sergeant, who put the group through a physical fitness test—timed laps, climbing, push-ups, and various other exercises designed to measure their strength and speed. Lucyan cleared all the tests with ease, but around forty of the applicants were cut immediately, and ten barely passed.
The remaining fifty-five applicants were then commanded to demonstrate their fighting, particularly their hand-to-hand and knife skills, which only further cemented Lucyan’s suspicion that this was a spy recruitment test. The castle’s fighting master and his staff ran this part of the competition, and since each person was individually tested, it took forever. Lucyan had to hide his amusement as many of them fumbled with the weapons—quite a few knives went flying, and the others quickly learned to maintain their distance.
“You there,” one of the training master’s assistants, a woman with cropped black hair, said. “Your turn.”
Lucyan hopped to his feet and strode over to the woman. She tossed him a staff, then took one in her own hand and launched an attack. Lucyan blocked easily, then parried fast enough to surprise the woman while still allowing her time to block the blow. To most humans, she was lightning fast, but to Lucyan’s dragon eyes she was slow, her movements easily telegraphed. Still, he deliberately held back, only allowing himself to get one or two strikes in. The last thing he needed was to stand out. A few minutes later, they switched from staffs to swords, then knives, and finally hand-to-hand.
“You’ll do,” the woman finally said after she’d called for a halt. She sounded a bit out of breath, and sweat gleamed on her brow. Lucyan pretended to be out of breath as well, so he wouldn’t look as if he were trying to outshine her. “Go stand with that group over there.” She pointed to the left, where five men stood.
“Yes, ma’am.” Lucyan inclined his head, then did as ordered. Over the next two hours, the other applicants were gradually weeded out. Most of them were rubbish at fighting, but some of the men were able to hold their own against the training staff, and two women were quite good.
“Twenty left,” the training sergeant said when it was over. He nodded approvingly as he scanned the remaining applicants. “The steward will be very pleased with that number. Head on back to the steward’s office. He will brief you on what comes next.”