She was growing weary of this verbal sparring. It was time to get some answers, even if it was bad news.
“I still don’t know why you’re telling me all this,” she said. “Why did you bring me back to your capital? If you’re looking for recruits for your bloodsworn army, it seems you’ve got plenty of potential soldiers here at home.”
Celestine laughed. “I don’t want to add you to the bloodsworn army,” she said. “I want you to lead it.”
37
THE TALISMAN
After two more days in Lieutenant Karn’s private lockup, Hal was beginning to understand what is meant by “climbing the walls.” He was used to working his body hard; in the absence of that, his mind took over. If he tried to read in the light from the window, his mind kept turning to what was happening outside. Where was Captain Gray? Was she still alive? Had the empress turned her into one of her bloodsworn slaves? He imagined the wit and intelligence fading from her brown eyes.
What possible reason could Karn have for keeping his king in the dark about his political prisoners? Were Karn and his father really at odds? Hal worried that the spymaster intended to keep him and Robert imprisoned indefinitely, to prevent them from contributing to the thanes’ military efforts.
If Hal felt this way after a few days, it was hard to imagine what it must be like for his mother and sister after months in the dungeon. If they weren’t already dead. His little sister, Harper, had a habit of speaking her mind to authority, consequences be damned.
Robert spent most of his time doing push-ups, chin-ups—anything to burn off frustration and useless energy. By the third day, Hal began to join in on Robert’s workouts. They were hard at it one morning after breakfast when Hal heard the key in the lock. He levered to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. Robert mopped his face with his shirt and stood.
Karn strode in, his arms loaded with what looked like clothing. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said, dropping a bundle on each of their beds. “Have you been warm enough? Is the food acceptable?”
“We don’t care about the bloody food!” Robert snapped.
Karn raised an eyebrow. “Spoken like a well-fed man.”
Hal untied his bundle and unfolded the fabric. He looked up in surprise. “It’s a blackbird uniform,” he said.
“The actual members call it the King’s Guard,” Karn said. “Or they are supposed to. Practice saying that.”
“You brought us disguises?” Robert said, with a spark of enthusiasm. “But”—he held up a glittery black mask—“don’t you think this is kind of obvious?”
“You’re invited to a party,” Karn said. “Happily, it’s a masquerade party. I want you to attend as members of the King’s Guard. Now. Try these on and check the fit, sometime when you won’t be interrupted. In the meantime, hide them.”
“I take it you have a plan,” Hal said. He sat motionless, cradling the fabric in his lap, his eyes fixed on Karn.
“I do,” Karn said, “but at present it is evolving as we get more information.” The spymaster seemed to believe in the maxim that what isn’t shared can’t reach the wrong ears. “Now, is there anything among your belongings that I could use as a token to your mother and sister? Something meaningful that only the four of you would know about?”
“Are you really going to see them?” Robert took an eager step toward the spymaster, who raised a hand in warning. Robert froze in his tracks.
“Yes,” Karn said. “I’m going to see them later today. I need something from you to persuade them to cooperate.”
Hal and Robert looked at each other.
“You’re not planning to lead them into a trap, are you?” Robert said.
“They are already in a trap, Corporal,” Karn said, with rising impatience. “I was under the impression that you wanted to try to get them out.”
“So you’ll help us?”
“It means that I will see what I can do,” Karn said. “No promises.”
Robert turned to Hal. “Hal,” Robert said, “what about Harper’s thimble? You had that with you, didn’t you?”
Of course, Hal thought. “That’s brilliant, Robert,” he said. “Nobody would think of that as something important but us.”
“Why is it important?” Karn asked.
“Our sister Harper was only six when Hal went to the army,” Robert said. “It was really hard for her to see him go, so she gave him her thimble so he wouldn’t get pricked.”
“I’ve worn it on a chain around my neck ever since,” Hal said, “as a kind of talisman.” He lifted the chain over his head and handed it off to Karn, hoping he was doing the right thing. Hal couldn’t quiet the voice in his head saying, This is a trick.
Karn weighed it in his palm. “Does it work?”
“Well,” Hal said, “I’m still alive.”
“Ah,” Karn said, with a crooked smile. “That’s your secret.” He tucked it away. “I’ll only use it if I have to,” he said.
“One more thing,” Hal said. “If you see my mother, tell her to look on the bright side. That’s the advice she’s constantly giving me.”
“Look on the bright side,” Karn repeated. “All right. There’s at least a one-in-a-thousand chance this plan will work.”
When he went to turn away, Hal said, “Lieutenant.”
Karn turned, waited.
“Why are you doing this?”
The spymaster gazed at him for a long moment, rubbing his chin. “Let’s just say that I have a weakness for women and children in peril.” Then he was out the door, and Hal heard the click of the lock.
38
VISIT TO THE PIT
It was an odd committee of party planners: Queen Marina, for the carrot; Destin, for the stick; and Lila Barrowhill for logistics. Lila was dressed like a clerk in her scribner blues—all she needed was a pair of spectacles to complete the look. Still, Destin couldn’t help wondering who she really was underneath her many disguises.
He wondered if she knew herself.
A subdued Luc Granger met them outside the Great Hall. His face looked nearly normal save for a certain crookedness to his nose. I’ll have to get the name of the healer who worked on him, Destin thought. Whoever it is does fine work.
“Your Majesty,” Granger said to Queen Marina, “I beg of you to reconsider this visit. I’ve not had time to properly prepare for—”
“If the guest quarters are suitable for families of noble birth, I have no doubt I’ll survive,” Marina said. “His Majesty gave me very little notice that they would be attending this reception, and we must be as efficient as possible.”
“In other words, lead the way,” Destin said.
To Destin’s surprise, Granger did not lead them to the dungeon’s main entrance two floors below the Great Hall. Instead, it soon became apparent that they were on their way to the royal wing of the palace—a place frequented only by the royal family, their most trusted servants, and their most servile favorites.
Was Jarat really housing the hostages in the royal apartments? How was that possible, without Destin knowing about it? Without the entire world knowing about it? Not to mention that it would be totally out of character for the brutal young king.
The way in was through the apartment once occupied by King Gerard’s mistress, Estelle DeLacroix. DeLacroix was no longer in need of it, since she’d been executed on suspicion of plotting to assassinate the king. At the rear of the poor lady’s bedchamber, where the king once found an adder in his bed, was a locked door. Granger unlocked it and motioned them through.
The door opened to a surprisingly large chamber occupied by four blackbird guards, playing cards around a table. They nodded to Granger like they knew him, and one of them handed him a ring of keys.
“This way,” Granger said, opening yet another door to a tiny chamber. From there, a staircase descended into the dark.
It must be a Montaigne family secret, the kind of place you’d keep your brother until you murdered him. Or a traitorous mistress. Or an uncooperative wife.