“He went back to his suite, far as I know.”
Just then, they heard a footstep in the hallway. Boyd and Harold hurried to look busy, thinking maybe it was Master Merrill. But it was Marc DeJardin.
“Freeman, get your kit and come with me. The king has asked for you.”
Ash tried to read Marc’s face but got nothing. “He asked for me specifically?”
The mage nodded.
Was it possible the king had been bitten after all? With mingled apprehension and anticipation, Ash set his work aside and washed his hands. He retrieved his kit from under his bed. “Wait here,” he said. “I need to get something from the garden. Just in case I need it.”
Blessedly, they didn’t follow him out there. He knelt behind a low wall, lifted the stone, and pulled out his hidden saddlebag. Running his fingers over the packets and bottles inside, he chose two small bottles. The first he tucked it into a pocket he’d sewn into his sleeve. The other he slid into a mesh pouch he’d attached to the inside of his silver collar. Even if he came under suspicion, they were unlikely to take the collar off.
On his way back inside, he plucked a fistful of snakebite weed.
Harold was eagerly filling a visibly uncomfortable Marc in on the events in Lady Estelle’s suite.
“You’d best watch yourself, Harold,” Marc said. “It seems to me they’re trying to keep that whole thing quiet. You don’t want the king to hear that you’re spreading that story.”
It was almost comical, the way Harold’s mouth snapped shut and a look of panic crowded onto his face. Almost.
“Can you two finish setting up?” Ash asked his two young colleagues. They both nodded, staring at him, wide-eyed, unsure whether Ash was in trouble or in luck. “If Master Merrill is looking for me, tell him I’ve been summoned by the king. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Ash figured he might as well take his time. Merrill would make his life miserable for the next week regardless.
“What’s this all about?” Ash demanded as they hurried back toward the center of the castle.
Marc shook his head. “I don’t really know, but the entire palace is crawling with the King’s Guard. I’ve never seen anything like it. If what Harold says is true, they’re taking the snake episode seriously.”
That was certainly true—as they approached the king’s apartments, the blackbirds flocked thicker.
“The only other rumor I’ve heard is about plague,” Marc said.
“Plague! Here in Ardenscourt?”
Marc shook his head. “Delphi. Word is that riders came in from the north a few hours ago, blackbirds escorting a closed carriage. Nobody knows anything, also unusual. Maybe some visitor needs healing.”
“Why would they bring plague to Ardenscourt?”
“Maybe it’s someone really important. That’s why it’s such a secret.”
“It still doesn’t make sense.” Ash thought of the city, teeming with people, and the consequences if the plague were loosed here with no gifted healers to treat it.
“All I know is, this morning he sent for me early and told me to fetch you, that it was urgent.”
This might be the opportunity I’ve been looking for, Ash thought. Unless they just need somebody to make the beds.
The guards seemed to be expecting them, and admitted them quickly after the usual search. Ash saw immediate signs of heightened security. There were ten fully armed blackbirds inside, along with Montaigne, Lila, and another man Ash had never seen before. An uncollared mage. He and Lila had their heads together over a map spread out on the hearth.
Ash studied the king, looking for signs of illness, but saw none, only evidence of murderous foul humor.
The stranger looked to be the same age as Ash, with a lean, muscular build, hazel eyes, a stubble of reddish beard, and brown hair. His clothing was travel-stained, as if he’d been on the road for days, and hadn’t had time to change.
Was this his patient? Ash guessed not. The mage appeared worried, almost agitated, but Ash sensed no physical disorder about him.
When they entered the room, Lila and the stranger broke off their conversation. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, examining Ash with sharp interest.
Should I offer him the secret wizard handshake? Ash thought.
“Lieutenant Karn!” Marc exclaimed. “You’re back!”
Karn! Ash all but missed a step.
“Good to be back,” the young man said, his gaze flicking to Marc, then back to Ash.
This must be Destin Karn, the Ardenine spymaster. Ash had heard his name during his travels through Arden. The son of Marin Karn, general of the Ardenine armies, he could have been the one behind the attack on him at Oden’s Ford.
If so, would Karn recognize him? Tall and red-haired were the descriptors most often applied to Ash. At least now his hair was dyed a muddy brown color.
Just another friend of Lila’s apparently. Ash was beginning to feel hemmed in by Lila’s friends.