The air before him rippled and grew hazy, and the Monk appeared in the corner. The dog backed quickly away, growling and showing its teeth. Jordan’s hand dropped to the sword at his side. He wasn’t sure if there was anything inside the Monk’s robe that he could hit with a sword, but if the Monk came any closer, he was going to have a damned good try at finding out. He glared at the darkness inside the Monk’s cowl.
“I don’t recall inviting you in.”
“Doors and walls are no barrier to me,” said the Monk in his quiet, dusty voice. “I bring greetings from your brother Lewis, and a message.”
“All right,” said Jordan, “Give me the message, and then get out.”
“You waste your breath in threatening me,” said the Monk. “You have no authority here, actor.”
Jordan’s heart stumbled in mid beat, and for a moment he thought he was going to faint. The moment passed, but he could feel his legs trembling uncontrollably. He felt as though he’d suddenly dried in the middle of a big speech, and forgotten all his words. “What do you mean,
actor?”
he said finally, and took a certain amount of pride from the calm evenness of his voice.
“There are no secrets from me in Castle Midnight,” said the Monk. “You have Viktor’s face and body, but that’s all. I’ve seen the real prince asleep in another room.”
“You said you had a message,” said Jordan, deliberately not replying to the Monk’s accusation. “Get on with it, messenger.”
The long gray robe seemed to stir briefly, and Jordan wondered if he was pushing his luck. This was one of the most powerful sorcerers in Castle Midnight, and all he had were the flare pellets up his sleeve and a few spare smoke bombs. Jordan tried hard to think which door was the nearest, in case he needed to make a sudden exit. The Monk’s robe grew still again, and Jordan relaxed a little. He still kept his hand near his sword, though.
“I bear this message from your brother Lewis,” said the Monk softly. “It’s time to choose sides. Those who are not with Lewis are against him. Those who will not kneel to him are his enemies. Lewis will be king of Redhart, and any who dare stand between him and the throne will die.”
Jordan waited patiently awhile, and then raised an eyebrow. “Is that it? Lewis must be getting desperate. Tell him he can take his threats and stuff them where the sun don’t shine. And if you ever enter my rooms uninvited again, I’ll burn that mangy-looking robe of yours to ashes and then piss on the ashes. Now on your way, or I’ll set my dog on you.”
He turned his back on the Monk, and ostentatiously studied his appearance in a nearby mirror. There was a deafening silence behind him. His back crawled, and then the Monk laughed. There was no humor in the sound, only an awful patient hatred. Jordan counted to ten slowly, and then turned around. The corner was empty, and the Monk was gone. There was also no sign of the dog. Jordan had a sudden horrid suspicion that the Monk had taken the dog with him as a kind of revenge, but even as he thought it he heard the animal snuffling somewhere nearby. He walked slowly around the room, calling encouragingly, and looking under chairs and behind hanging tapestries. There was no sign of the dog anywhere, and the snuffling sounds had stopped. Jordan came to a halt in the middle of the room and looked around him.
The dog’s got to be here somewhere
… He knelt down and crawled under one of the tables. There was a suppressed giggle behind him. Jordan straightened up suddenly, and banged his head on the underside of the table. He cursed feelingly, put his hand to his head, and sat down suddenly. The giggles stopped.
“Sorry,” said a quiet voice.
Jordan looked around, and found himself face-to-face with a young boy, about seven or eight years old. He was painfully thin, with a narrow pinched face and straight straw-colored hair. He was standing awkwardly in that plaintive stance young children adopt when they know they’ve done something wrong, but his pale blue eyes were bright and steady, and his timid smile brought an answering smile to Jordan’s lips. The boy was dressed in very conservative, somewhat old-fashioned clothes, but they looked neat enough.
Hand-me-downs
, thought Jordan sympathetically.
We all go through it
.
He crawled out from under the table, got to his feet, and dusted himself off. “What’s your name?” he asked the boy kindly.
“Geordie,” said the boy shyly. “Everyone calls me Wee Geordie, ’cause I’m small for my age. Mother says I’ll grow taller later on, though. Both my brothers are tall.”
“Well, Geordie,” said Jordan, “I’m Viktor. Now what are you doing in my chambers at this time of night. You’re not really supposed to be here, are you?”
Geordie bit his lower lip, and looked down at his feet. “I’m lost. I’m looking for my mother. We got separated, and I can’t find her. Have you seen her?”
“I don’t know, lad. Can you tell me her name?”
“Lady Mary of Fenbrook. She’s ever so pretty.”
“I’m sure she is,” said Jordan. “But I don’t think I’ve met her. I’ll tell you what. I’ll talk to the guards outside my door, and one of them will take you to the steward. She’ll find someone to look after you, while they look for your mother to tell her where you are. Is that all right?”
Geordie smiled, and nodded. “I know Kate. She’s nice.”
I just hope she doesn’t mind my dumping you on her
, thought Jordan,
but I’m damned if I can think of anyone else
.
A small hand nestled trustingly into his, and Jordan gave it a reassuring squeeze. He led the boy over to the main door and opened it. The guards looked in surprise at Wee Geordie, and Jordan glared at them both impartially.
“This young scamp managed to sneak in here without either of you spotting him. If you think you can stay awake long enough, I want one of you to take him to the steward and stay with him until they find his mother. Think you can manage that? Good. Because if I find out later that you just left him there on his own, I’ll have you both peeling potatoes in the kitchens until your fingers turn brown! Is that clear?”
Both the guards nodded emphatically, and one of them held out his hand to the boy. Geordie looked up at Jordan, and he nodded that it was all right. The boy transferred his grip to the guard’s hand, and the two of them went off down the corridor. Jordan looked hard at the remaining guard.
“See if you can remain alert from now on. Because if I get any more uninvited guests this evening, I am going to be distinctly peeved with you. Got it?”
The guard nodded quickly. Jordan went back into his suite and slammed the door shut behind him. It had been a long day, and so far it had shown no signs of getting any shorter. He looked longingly at the door to his bedchamber, and thought wistfully about the deep soft mattress that awaited him.
The next person who disturbs me
, he thought grimly,
had better have a bloody good reason. And even then I might not listen
.
He’d only taken a few steps toward his bedroom when the commotion began. Someone roaring threats and curses was charging up and down the corridor, apparently pausing now and then to hit the floor with something heavy. I
am going to ignore this
, thought Jordan determinedly.
It’s none of my business, and I am not going to get involved
. He waited hopefully for a few moments to see if the uproar would quieten down of its own accord. It didn’t. Jordan tapped his foot impatiently, and began to seethe quietly as it became clear he was going to have to deal with whoever it was, if he hoped to get any sleep that night. He strode over to the main door and jerked it open.
Something about two feet high and dressed all in scarlet shot between his legs, scurried into his suite, and disappeared. Jordan barely had time to react before he looked up to see Damon Cord charging straight at him, brandishing the biggest solid steel mallet that Jordan had ever seen. He jumped back out of the way just in time to avoid being bowled over, and Cord roared into the suite in hot pursuit of whatever the small scarlet streak had been.
“Shut the door!” snapped Cord. “Don’t let it get away!”
Jordan shut the door. When he looked around again, Cord was standing very still in the middle of the room, his mallet poised and ready to strike.
“Cord …”
“Quiet, Your Highness, it’s gone to ground.”
“I don’t care if it’s gone abroad for its holidays; what is it?”
“A redcap. Nasty little buggers. They hide in the wainscotting, and come out at night to feed on human flesh. They’re particularly fond of children’s flesh.”
Cord began a slow quartering of the room, checking each possible hiding place with the maximum of caution. Jordan was reminded irresistibly of his own search for the disappearing bloodhound, but had enough sense not to smile. He didn’t think Cord was in the mood to appreciate the funny side.
“Why a mallet?” he said finally. “What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned sword or ax?”
“Redcaps are notoriously hard to kill, Your Highness. Fire’s the only thing that’ll do it for sure. That’s why I chased it in here. If worse comes to worst, you can always use your fire magic to fry the little bastard. Got you!”
The two-foot-tall creature shot out from under an armchair and threw itself at Cord’s ankles. Jordan had a brief impression of an impossibly wide mouth crammed with needle teeth, and then Cord’s mallet swung down in a silvery blur and hurled the redcap away. It flew squalling through the air and slammed into an ornamental table, overturning it. The collection of porcelain plates carefully stacked on top of the table cascaded to the floor and smashed into hundreds of pieces. The redcap picked itself up, entirely unharmed, and effortlessly tore one of the legs from the overturned table. It hefted the ironwood leg like a club, and grinned nastily at Cord. Jordan watched sickly as the creature’s mouth stretched almost literally from ear to ear.
The redcap was disturbingly human in shape, but impossibly thin and slender. Its arms and legs were little more than pipe cleaners, but its magical nature gave it unnatural strength and vitality. Cord swung his huge mallet, and the redcap dodged it. The mallet swung on, unable to stop, and demolished a glass display case full of china miniatures. The noise was tremendous. Cord hauled his mallet free of the wreckage, destroying what was left of the glass case, and then had to jump back himself as the redcap wielded its iron wood club. The table leg missed Cord, and sank half its length into the wall, driven into the solid stone like a nail into wood. Cord swung his mallet again, and in order to dodge it, the redcap was forced to abandon its weapon. It skittered away across the floor with Cord in hot pursuit. A centuries-old writing table and an ornamental hat stand fell prey to Cord’s mallet along the way. Still entirely unhurt, the redcap took refuge behind an overstuffed armchair and screamed defiance at him.
A part of Jordan’s mind was busy totting up the damages, even as he drew his sword and moved forward to join Cord. His new access to Viktor’s memories enabled him to remember exactly how much each piece of furniture had cost originally, and how difficult they would be to replace. He had a horrible suspicion Viktor and Roderik would decide this was all his fault, and deduct the cost from his fee.
Jordan decided he’d better do something to help Cord get the redcap, while there was still some furniture left. He chose his moment carefully, leapt forward, and ran the creature through with his sword. The blade punched clean through the redcap’s chest and out its back. No blood ran from the wound. The redcap chuckled throatily, and grabbing the edges of the blade with its tiny hands, began to pull itself along the blade toward Jordan. Its great mouth chomped hungrily in anticipation. Jordan dropped his sword and stumbled back a step. The redcap pulled the blade out of its body and threw the sword to one side. Cord’s mallet whistled through the air, and the redcap was off and running again.
Cord chased the thing around and around the room while Jordan got his breath back. The redcap scuttled under chairs and over tables, hiding in every possible nook and cranny, trying always to make it to the door or to the wainscotting, but somehow Cord was always there first to drive it back. Once Jordan would have sworn the creature actually ran up one of the walls and headed for the ceiling before Cord intercepted it, but by that time he was so confused from trying to keep track of it that he couldn’t be sure what he’d seen. All he was sure of was the continuing rising cost of damaged furnishings.
Fire
, thought Jordan desperately,
Cord said the redcaps
hated fire. He palmed one of his flare pellets, and was surprised at how few he had left. He’d have to be careful how he used them until he had a chance to make some more. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, waited for his chance, and then nicked the wax coating of the pellet with his fingernail and threw it at the redcap. The pellet broke open on contact with the redcap’s chest, and burst into flames. The redcap howled with pain and fear, and tried to beat out the flames with its bare hands. Cord’s mallet swung down and around while the creature was distracted, and sent the redcap flying backward into the suite’s main fireplace. The tiny creature slammed into the blazing logs and coals and shrieked horribly. For a moment it scrabbled helplessly among the flames, and then it exploded into a dirty smoky gas that shot up the chimney and disappeared. The last echo of its screams died away, and the suite was suddenly quiet, save for the crackling of the flames in the fireplace. Cord reversed his mallet and leaned on it, grinning at Jordan.
“Nicely done, Your Highness. I was wondering how long it would take you to lose your temper and blast the little swine with your fire magic. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go. The steward needs me.”
And he was out the door and gone before Jordan could think to mention the mess Cord had made of the suite. He’d seen battlefields that were less messy. Jordan sighed, and shook his head resignedly. At least the bedroom door had been shut, so he still had somewhere intact left to sleep. He retrieved his sword and sheathed it, thought about making a start about cleaning up the mess and thought better of it, and then spun around suddenly as he heard the door open behind him. It was only Cord, frowning slightly. Jordan took his hand away from his sword.