Mastiff Page 3

  “It could be worse, my lord,” Tunstall replied. “You could be one of these sailors.”

  My eyes were clear enough that I could see that Pounce was seated by my feet. I bent down and picked up my mug of tea. “Did you enjoy your nap?” I asked him sourly before I took a swallow of my tea. It was well enough, but I prefer more spices, and less of whatever the bitter herb in it was.

  Pounce looked up at me and blinked. I went to the Realms of the Gods once Achoo was under the sleep spell, he informed me. Why should I remain for such an abysmal voyage if I don’t have to?

  Tunstall and Lord Gershom both heard, because they choked on their tea. I drank my tea down to hide my own smile. I was glad that Pounce had come along.

  The sails were going slack over our heads. We glided smoothly in toward the last of the docks, one that was isolated from the others by a wooden fence in the water. Seeing that we’d be going ashore soon, I went back to the cabin for my belongings. Tunstall followed. We strapped our rain things to our own packs and gathered up Lord Gershom’s things while we were at it. I was shocked when he took one bag from my hand and another from Tunstall, but he shook his head when we would have protested. Both of us took his warning and said nothing.

  All this secrecy was starting to give me the itch. Never had I been on a Hunt when we kept our names from those who conveyed us. Never had I been on a Hunt when we had no notion of the manner of crime at issue, the Dog Districts involved, or the local nobles. Lord Gershom had mentioned the king, but surely we were here as a favor to someone the king wished to help. The king had better Hunters than the likes of us. There were the royal spies, the Ferrets, to seek out any offenders against the king’s majesty or that of the royal family. The most powerful mages in the realm served the Crown, as did knights who were sworn to bring anyone singled out by the Ferrets to justice. The king himself would have no need for a Dog pair and a scent hound. Why then the silence, and the expensive night journey all the way to Blue Harbor?

  The ship eased between the fence and the dock. Two sailors jumped down to secure the ship to cleats. My lord went to the prow, plainly looking for someone. Then he nodded. He’d seen whoever he was looking for.

  “Have you ever been on a Hunt like this?” I murmured to Tunstall.

  “Never. But, do you know, Beka, I wish already that we were not,” he replied. “Once folk start to fool with a good, plain Hunt, it never goes well in the long run.”

  “We can sacrifice some flowers to your luck god, first chance we get,” I promised him. “That might turn it about for us.”

  He was shaking his head. “It will have to be fruit. Flowers won’t be enough, I can tell already.”

  The sailors were placing the gangplank so that we might leave the ship. My lord nodded to them, then motioned for us to follow. Achoo and Pounce beat Tunstall and me, but then, they weren’t carrying bags. I felt like I brought up the end of a somberly clad parade, with Tunstall and me in uniform and my lord in black.

  Three coves waited for us at the end of the dock. Two of them were from the king’s personal bodyguard, the King’s Own, marked out by their silvery chain mail and their bright blue tunics. They had horses with them, six with saddles and three for packs. Without a word they came and took our things. They strapped our belongings on the packhorses, which already had some baggage. The oldest stopped only for a moment to talk with Lord Gershom, a moment that left my lord white-faced and staring out to sea.

  The third man was not from the King’s Own. He was a big cove, six feet and three inches tall, clean-shaven, with brown hair cut short, just over his ears. His eyes were large, set a little shallow in their sockets, and their color was hard to name, partway between pale green and pale blue. He had an easy smile on a mouth that looked as if it smiled often. He dressed in a Dog’s uniform with the silver hem and sleeve trim of a Provost’s mage.

  Tunstall and I followed Lord Gershom as my lord walked up to the brown-haired cove. My thoughts raced. I’ve done five Hunts with a mage as part of our group. They are a very mixed lot. The one that was a graduate of the university in Carthak was impossible to manage—Achoo even bit her. The one from the City of the Gods barely spoke to us, but he saved all of our lives when we came under attack. The one lent to us by the Duke of Naxen was a kind fellow but of little use, while the two wander mages were decent sorts. This one, at least, dressed like a normal Dog, without strange bits and pieces clanking from his neck and belt, and he bore himself like a normal cove, without any airs.

  My lord and the mage clasped hands. “Well met, Farmer,” my lord said. “There was no problem in getting your release from your district commander?”

  Master Farmer, if that was his true name, smiled. It gave him the look of a boy. I guessed him to be twenty-five. “She was quite pleased to let me go,” he replied. “She has a mage nephew she has been wanting to use in my place to see how he manages. Have you more information since you sent your orders? All I had was to meet you here today and tell no one.” He nodded to Tunstall and me.

  I sucked on the inside of my cheek. So he was a kennel mage? Those weren’t the cream of the crop.

  “I’ve little information myself,” my lord said. “Master Farmer Cape, meet Matthias Tunstall and Rebakah Cooper, from Corus.” Achoo whimpered, indignant at being overlooked, and Lord Gershom laughed. “And Achoo, the very fine scent hound who works with them. You will be working together. For now, we’re not wasting any time. Cooper, Achoo will have to ride. We’re leaving at the gallop.”

  He was serious about that. The older guardsman gave my lord, Master Farmer, and Tunstall horses while the younger guardsman helped me to place Achoo atop a packhorse. At my direction we settled her between bags and secured her with the straps I carried for those times we both had to go on horseback. That done, Pounce tucked into my shoulder pack, I mounted the horse set aside for me.

  Without another word Lord Gershom led the way at the trot through the gate at the end of the dock enclosure and past the naval guards outside. The older of the two men of the King’s Own rode beside him, while Master Farmer rode with Tunstall. Each of them led a packhorse. The other guardsman and I shared the rear while I led Achoo and her mount.

  The older guardsman led us down a private route through the naval yards, one that quickly brought us to the city gates. There he showed the guards a medallion he took from his pocket. It had to be official, because the guardsmen let us go as if we’d been Their Majesties themselves.

  Our path soon joined a broad road that led south. There was plenty of traffic to slow us down for ten miles or so, until we came to a wall and gate at a side road. Gate and road were manned by fully armored men of the King’s Own. They opened the gate without even stopping us for questions. By then I was sure of our destination. The Summer Palace was close by, set on the peninsula southeast of Blue Harbor and west of the Ware River. Only nine days ago Their Majesties had left the capital for the seaside palace. Whatever we were there for, it had been commanded by the king, I was sure of it. My tripes were one solid knot. I’m no good with nobles.

  Once the gate was closed behind us, my lord opened up our speed and we began to gallop for true. We kept to my lord’s pace, resting briefly in between gallops and trots.

  I have been in many woods since partnering with Achoo, and this was the strangest I had seen. The trees were spaced wide apart and much of the ground cover seemed to be moss, not grass. The streams had bridges that were as much ornament as structure needed for water crossing. They even had gilding for decoration, which was plain wasteful. Folk in the Lower City starve every day, yet out here where few can see it, the very bridges have gilding. It vexed me.

  After our third stop for water, the road turned to follow a smooth white limestone wall. Men guarded the height, the sun glinting off their helms and crossbows. The older guardsman took out a whistle much like the ones carried by street Dogs and blew a series of notes as a signal. The wall guards aimed their crossbows at us and I took a deep breath
of air. There is nothing so discomforting as the sight of crossbows aimed at your company. Then we heard another set of whistles. The guards lowered their bows.

  On we rode. The guards farther down must have heard the whistled signal, for no more weapons were pointed our way. Now, behind the soldiers, I could see green land planted with trees rising well above the height of the wall.

  “It’s a summer palace, Cooper,” Tunstall reminded me. “They have to catch the breezes.”

  “How close is it to the ocean?” I asked him.

  Tunstall knew I worried that someone might attack the palace on the other side. These walls looked too pretty to hold off a real attack. “There’s a wall all the way round, you Fretting Franza,” he teased. “And all sorts of mage work you’re not seeing. You think they’d let Their Majesties and His Highness anywhere near a place that wasn’t protected, ground to crown?”

  I wanted to ask him that, if this was true, why were we here, but we had come to another gate, guarded again by men of the King’s Own. My skin was starting to itch. I was no expert on palace matters, unlike my brother Nilo. He was a palace courier and knew all sorts of things about royalty. Still, as I remembered it, the Palace Guard was supposed to protect the monarchs’ homes, the King’s Own their persons. If that was so, why did I see no red-and-tan uniforms on the walls? Everyone who stood up there wore blue and silver.

  This time our guards from the King’s Own had to come forward, and Lord Gershom had to show his signet ring. I did not like the look of these guards at all. Even the darkest-skinned of them was ashen. Some of them had sweat marks on their pretty tunics. Some of them had hands that shook as they held their weapons.

  I looked at Tunstall, who was already eyeing me. He scratched his scruffy beard. I nodded. Something very bad had taken place here.

  As our two guides went ahead with the packhorses to lead us on the road that climbed away from the main gate, I promised myself I would never pack my bit of spelled mirror away again. I was very curious to know if the men who’d just let us enter were magicked like our guides not to talk about whatever had frightened them so badly.

  We did not gallop, but we went at a good trot, always uphill, always curving left through trees. These were a bit wilder than the ones by the road below, a proper setting for streams that formed little waterfalls over heaps of rocks. I caught glimpses of a large building atop the high ground. First I saw a long hall open on one side with outside pillars to support the upper story. Next came balconies that stood out from a wall, draped with flowering vines.

  Then we came into view of the sea. I had to admire it as it shone there, gold in the afternoon sun. Straight below us lay stone heights, and then a stone wall where a handful of men from the King’s Own stood guard. Below the wall were more stone cliffs. If there was a beach, I did not see it.

  Brace yourselves, Pounce said from behind my ear. Tunstall looked our way, so he’d heard. Neither Lord Gershom nor the mage so much as twitched. They had not overheard.

  “For what, hestaka?” Tunstall asked Pounce. It meant “wise one” in Tunstall’s original Hurdik.

  Pounce always got full of himself when Tunstall called him that, but not this time. You’ll see, he replied.

  The Summer Palace appeared through the trees on my left, a long building with another open corridor on this side. There were balconies and turrets that must have been pretty white stone once. Now soot streaks marred everything. Part of this wing had collapsed into the cellars. Some of the remains stood open to the air. Others sported a single shutter, or half-burned ones. Tatters of burned draperies and furniture had been thrust from the windows to lie haphazard below. A chill ran clean down my spine and up into my skull. This was fearful business.

  Achoo whimpered and scrabbled against the ties that held her to the packhorse. Something was frightening her.

  “Would you release her?” I called to the men of the King’s Own. “She needs to get down.” The younger one rode to Achoo’s horse to do as I asked while I looked around.

  Between the palace and our road were gardens. Mayhap they’d been pretty, too, but not now. Bodies lay among the flowers. Here were the missing Palace Guards, as well as men of the King’s Own, and the Black God knew how many servants, all burned, sword hacked, or stabbed.

  Lord Gershom swore. “Tunstall?”

  Tunstall rode up to the older man of the King’s Own. “Once this was discovered, how many people have ridden this track before us?” he asked.

  Achoo jumped to the ground. She ran over to my horse, her tail between her legs. She was nearabout spooked out of her fur.

  The cove began to reply, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Our party, that was away in Blue Harbor, rode this way to come home after midnight. Guards and couriers have come and gone on this road since. And it is not this for which you are called. Come.”

  “Not this?” Lord Gershom demanded, but he set his horse in motion. The mage and I followed. Tunstall fell in with me as we passed. We heard my lord mutter, “What in Mithros’s name can be worse?”

  That same question worried Tunstall and me, for certain. I could not read Master Farmer’s face yet.

  “Is this what you meant?” I asked Pounce in a whisper.

  It’s the beginning, he replied.

  Master Farmer looked at me. “So your cat talks,” he remarked, as easy as if he rode by dead folk every day. “Doesn’t it unsettle you?”

  Easy, Beka, Pounce said in my mind, when I would have given the mage a tart answer. He’s frightened, too, for all he doesn’t act it.

  “He’s talked to me for years,” I said. “I’m used to it.”

  “Oh, good,” Master Farmer replied, turning to face forward on his mount. “I wouldn’t want you to put a good face on it for me.”

  We rode past sight of the flower gardens, but the landscape of the dead continued. They had fought in the trees here. Tunstall pointed to the far side of our road. There were footprints on a wide path that led down toward the sea. I nodded. Had the enemy come from there, or had people tried to escape taking that path? If Tunstall, Achoo, and I were supposed to make sense of this raid, we were sadly overmatched. I’d put at least five pairs on sommat as big as this, and more than one mage.

  Thinking of mages, I wondered, shouldn’t that seaward path be magicked to the hilt? Wouldn’t that wall down below be magicked just the same? Royalty came here for the summer. Surely those who kept them safe wouldn’t leave their protection to a couple of walls and some guards.

  We halted in a wide circle where Their Majesties’ guests left their chairs, horses, or wagons. This had been cleared of the dead. That there had been dead was plain from the blood splashes on the ground. Men of the King’s Own silently took our horses. I called Achoo to heel—she was sniffing the blood—and followed Tunstall, Master Farmer, and my lord inside.

  Our guides did not come with us. Possibly they did not want to face the soot-streaked, blood-splashed entry hall. We were met by a fleshy, white-haired cove. Mayhap he’d been very well satisfied with his life a few days ago. Now I had to wonder if he would live out the month, for all that he wore rich silks and hose and a great gray pearl earring.

  “Your people may wait in there, Gershom.” He pointed to a side room well fitted with chairs and small tables. “You will come with me.”

  My lord gave us the nod and we did as we were told. The room had escaped both fire and murder. There were pretty mosaics bordering the walls at top and bottom, as well as inlaid at the window ledges. The shutters were well-carved cedar, open to the air outside. I made note because my friends would surely want to know what the inside of a palace, even a summer one, was like. There were silk cushions with tassels everywhere. Pounce went over to one and idly batted a tassel. Achoo showed no interest in the furnishings. She went to the open door and whined.

  “Kemari, Achoo,” I told her. “Dukduk.” She looked at me and hesitated. I pointed to a spot next to the chair I meant to take and repeated my commands.


  “What language is that?” Master Farmer asked. “It sounds like Kyprish, but it’s mangled. Doesn’t she respond to commands in Common?”

  I’d placed his accent by the time he was done. He’d come from the roughest part of Whitethorn City, off east on the River Olorun.

  Tunstall had listened to him with eyebrows raised. “Now, would you go about giving away all your mage secrets to some stranger who asked?” he wanted to know. “Cooper has secrets for the handling of a hound. It’s the same thing.”

  I ducked my head to hide a grin and pretended to be tucking my breech leg more properly into my boot. Tunstall wanted to test the mage a little.

  “What kind of mage are you?” he asked Master Farmer. “The scummer-don’t-stink kind, or the pisses-wine kind?”

  Master Farmer scratched his head. “The I-just-like-to-be-friendly kind. Ma always told me I was forever trying to make new friends.” He had changed from the cove who’d greeted my lord to a bit of a country lad. I thought it was to pull Tunstall’s tail, but kept my mouth closed. Tunstall was full grown and able to take care of himself.