The Ghost Of Eslenda (Book 1) (9 page)

Quink watched the feast from the high bailey window. He sat alone and forgotten, or perhaps ignored as usual. He knew what he watched to be true, but he still distrusted his eyes. Edward wore the crown, and Henry, dead. He could still see the bloody rushes near Edward's chair where Sir Browner died. Sir Browner had been kind to Quink, never insulted him and smiled at Quink's jokes, most of the time. A wife and six children left behind, if Quink remembered correctly. Quink would be sure Sir Browner would not be forgotten. The new King paid no attention as the servants washed away the blood of a true knight of Eslenda. Quink wiped the tears away. He had served Henry all of his life and had known no other master. His limbs felt heavy and his hand twitched. There was a hollow ache inside him and his thoughts scattered.

He tried to follow Edward's conversation and the laughter of his cronies; as much as he could but the distance across the hall was great and very little was clear to him. It upset his stomach to look at the smiling face of Edward. He found it difficult to breathe properly and it seemed very warm. He had to find a way to help Prince Hal. He believed Hal to be innocent. He had known both princes all their lives and knew which one could become a murderer. It was too convenient that the heir was the murderer and Edward happened to have an abundance of soldiers in Riverdowns. Hal was next in line so why kill King Henry?

Moving as quietly as possible Quink made his way to the upper levels of the castle crossing to the tower where Lockwell dwelt. Edward's soldiers patrolled the upper halls, but they too, paid no attention to the jester. The closer he got to Lockwell's quarters, the fewer the guards. Quink would ask the wizard what he could do to help. There had to be something; carry messages, follow someone, even bring food and wine. He needed to be doing something.

The steps seemed steeper as he ascended to the tower room. Quink had never been to Lockwell's chambers and the glow of bluish light gave the walls a look of life, cold and waiting. The torches on the walls blazed with blue flame but gave no heat and the light did not penetrate the gloom at the edges of his sight.

The skin on the back of his neck tingled and he turned suddenly, but saw no one. He stared up into the gloom of the ceiling until spots danced in his eyes. He seemed to be alone yet the creeping sensation told him he was not. He swallowed and kept moving.

The sulfuric smell wafted down to him and he almost turned back. He saw moisture dripping down the walls and the chilling dampness made him think of a cellar, but he was at the highest point in the castle. He stopped before a thick wooden door bound together with thick metal straps, bolted with hardware as large as Quink's fist. He heard the murmur of voices from the other side of the door and a barked laugh. The air turned chilly and he lost his resolve. Quink turned around to descend the stairs.

"Quink," said Lockwell from behind him. Quink did not hear the wizard open the heavy door. "Come the rest of the way in."

The fool slowly turned and saw the silhouette of Lockwell in the doorway. The wizard stood taller than usual. His copper eyes pierced the jester and Quink shuffled forward.

"Enter of your own free will."

"I don't like the sound of that, Lockwell. Do you purposely unnerve people?"

"Do you purposely entertain people?"

Quink had no answer. He glanced around the room. Workbenches lined one side of the room with boxes stacked in the far corner. He heard the sounds of animals from some of the boxes. On a rod near the fireplace pots bubbled with some foul smelling potions. One dripped on the stone below it and it hissed and gave off a purple vapor. He glanced up to see Lockwell leaning over him like a vulture.

"Well, little man?"

"What can I do to help Prince Hal?"

"How do you know I can be trusted, little man?"

"I believe Prince Hal trusts you. That's good enough for me."

"Is it? But is it good enough for me? Do you see my side? How do I know I can trust you? I see you are the expert on whom to trust. Why do you say 'Prince' Hal? Don't you mean 'King' Hal?"

"Of course, of course. I just cannot grasp that King Henry is dead."

"Well, he is very dead," said Lockwell. "Get used to it, but no rush. He will be dead for the rest of your life."

"You are so callus, Lockwell, you can't be all human. There must be snake blood in you."

"Well, there are some teeth in you. I am what I am. No snake blood, but Celaeri of a small percentage. What about you?"

Quink coughed, reddened but did not answer.

"No matter, there is no time for sentimental daydreams now. There are too many pieces in motion."

"How can I help?"

"You cannot."

"What? Why not?" asked Quink.

"You are a fool."

"Yes! That is what I do. How can I help King Hal?"

"I see you want to be difficult." Lockwell's voice was cold.

"Lockwell, don't tease the fool," said Sir Plucker, moving from a secluded spot into view. "Your help is welcome, Quink, but you are not a fighter and there will be much fighting soon. You cannot aid in that. But there is a need you may be able to fill for us equally as dangerous as fighting. You are the only one who can do it. We need information about Edward's plans - what nobles are with him, and where their soldiers are positioned. If you want to help, that is the way. You must be the eyes and ears for King Hal here in the castle."

"Stay here with that murderer? I want to go to Far Greening. If Edward catches me I'll be killed."

"You didn't ask for anything easy," said Lockwell.

"Well then, give me something easy."

"The easy jobs are taken," growled Lockwell.

"Lockwell!" sighed Plucker. "We don't have much time."

"We never had much time," snapped Lockwell. He straightened up and looked evenly at Plucker. His skin flushed bluish. Quink mused that the bent aged wizard that bowed to kings was feigned. Here was a wizard who was anything but frail. Quink began to get that queer feeling on the back of his neck.

"I told you that months ago," said Lockwell. "You cannot comprehend anything until it hits you in the face Plucker. Now the King is dead and we are in dire straits. We could have prepared better if we had started earlier. Now the risks are increased tenfold. We shall be fortunate to get King Hal out of this castle."

"He shall escape, I promise you," said Plucker.

"We need more than promises, Plucker."

"Gentlemen," said Quink. "It seems to me that your bickering only helps Edward. Isn't time of the essence?" They stared at him and Lockwell hissed through his teeth.

"He's right," said Plucker. "What's your plan Lockwell?"

"I will set a fire in the south wing that will not go out. That should attract the guards. I will also free the prisoners in the dungeon to add to the commotion. There is a passage hidden behind the great hall fireplace that descends under the castle. I will bring King Hal to you in the great hall. Follow the passage for a quarter mile and you will find yourself inside the town under the carpet merchant's shop."

"Butler?"

"The very one."

"His kids are part of the King's Guard. Won't they turn us in?"

"I don't think so, but it is a chance you have to take. Besides, Plucker, they are just kids. Kill them if they pose a threat. You are a monster compared to them. Think of the safety of your king. Strike fast and get King Hal back north where he can gather forces to throw down Edward. Now, go and wait inside the passage. Do not be seen. I will bring the King and Queen to you."

Plucker left quickly, lumbering down the stairs. Quink thought Plucker winced with each step. The limp was more pronounced than usual. Quink watched Lockwell gather bottles and put them in a sack. He was amazed by the silence. He heard neither Lockwell move nor the bottles clink together.

"Are you leaving too?" asked Quink.

"I may have to. It will be obvious that the fire was unnatural. But I won't go far. My arts allow me to hide in plain sight. I'll be close by."

"And I stay here alone. Just listen and uncover plans and deceits? How do I send messages? And to whom? Leave breadcrumbs for you to find?"

Lockwell handed him a smooth rock with blue swirls.

"What is this?"

"Rub it and it will glow. Speak into it and I will hear you. I may not answer, but I will hear. Tell me anything that you believe is important. Tell me as soon as you can, do not wait to report at the end of the day- you might be dead by then."

"I'm not feeling well," said Quink.

"Are you frightened, Quink?"

"Yes. I am terrified."

"Do you trust me, Quink?"

"No. I have never trusted you."

Lockwell grinned.

"Quink, for years people have called you the fool, but I think you are of a much sharper wit than those you serve. Trust no one, Quink. Not even King Hal. You are smart enough to keep your own counsel. There are many individuals working cross-purposes in this land. Take care that you are not caught between."

"I don't understand!"

"Good. Everything should be fine. Keep well." Lockwell moved past him and down the steps to the south wing. Quink waited only a few minutes before following him at a slower pace. Lockwell was quickly beyond his sight.

Every noise made him flinch. Each set of eyes that glanced his way appeared to know immediately what he was planning. His heart pounded in his chest. He marveled that the guards had not arrested him yet. He felt the sweat clinging to his body. Life would never be joyful again.

Quink went to the great hall and sat in a corner sipping a cup of warm mead. There were few people sitting on the benches talking, mostly minor lords. However, to his right Lord Howard Cane sat with Lord Robert Tucker sharing a jug and laughter. Quink looked for a way to move closer, but there was no reason for him to draw closer with their leave. How could he become invisible?

He grabbed a cup of wine and spilled some on himself. Then he tumbled over to the lords and begged for some wine.

"Looks like you had enough, Quink," said Cane.

"Let him have some more," said Tucker. "He's celebrating his new master."

"So he is," agreed Cane. He poured wine into Quink's mug and the fool sat on the floor drinking and listening. The hounds came and curled up at the fool's feet.

"How will your wife take this news?" asked Tucker. "Will she argue for her brother's life?"

"It will be the last thing she does if she crosses me. I have Margaret locked up in the castle. I do not want this news to reach her until it is too late. She is crafty but supports me in most things, as a wife should. The issues with her family split us and I cannot fully trust her in these times. She might find a way to reach James and warn him."

"Is James so dangerous?"

"You have no idea how dangerous. James is the key to Eslenda. He is young yes, but he is brilliant and fights like a demon. He is bigger and stronger than Hal and it is said his blood runs with ice. The men he leads fight like berserkers. If he moves his forces before King Edward is ready, it will be difficult to stop him. I will be moving against Lan Tagjet and draw off some of Hal's soldiers and distract James."

"His parents are captives. Surely that will give him pause."

Cane laughed bitterly.

"Do not underestimate him, Tucker. He will only be fiercer with Hal imprisoned. Do not volunteer to lead the first battle against him for he will roll heads. There is no one man who can stand against him. Better to wait until the initial blood lust has waned."

"I will heed your warning, Howard."

"Here, Quink," said Cane. "Looks like you need a refill."

"Oh, thankee, your honor sir."

"My pleasure, Quink. Enjoy it." Cane stood and looked at Tucker. "Be strong now. We have made the first move and we must complete the campaign until no one opposes King Edward. Then our rewards shall be great."

"I look forward to it."

Both men moved away and Quink sipped his wine until he was alone. The servants cleared the room, ignoring him. Quink's thoughts drifted to King Hal. He moved into a shielded corner and rubbed the stone Lockwell had given him. Then he spoke softly into it.

Lockwell finished embellishing his powders with magic. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He backed away from the area that would become an inferno shortly. He spoke softly and a reddish glow sprang up in a corner, spreading quickly. Lockwell vanished into the shadows.

Within the quarter hour, shouts echoed the courtyards. Fire!! In the east wing! Fire! Smoke in the dungeon! Prisoners are escaping! Soldiers ran in every direction, some to find water, some to find the escaped prisoners but no one directed the efforts.

The guard outside Hal's quarters drew his sword when he saw the tall shadow walking toward him. He heard the commotion from the fire, but did not dare leave his post. Lockwell smiled at him.

"Lockwell. What is happening? Is the king in danger?" he asked, meaning Edward.

"No," said Lockwell. He gestured and the guard gasped and fell to the stone floor. "King Hal is no longer in danger from Edward this night."

Lockwell opened the door and beckoned for Hal and Elizabeth to follow. The corridor was extremely dark. Lockwell was suppressing all light around them. Hal shuddered at the power Lockwell wielded. What price would be his loyalty? Hal and Elizabeth could not see each other's faces and their shapes seemed indistinct. They clasped hands and followed the silent Lockwell to the Great Hall.

When the corridor opened to merge with other walkways, Lockwell stopped in the shadows, listening. Twice this happened, but the last time there were voices.

"What will happen now?" asked one guard.

"Don't know. We serve the king, I guess."

"Which king?" asked the first voice.

"Edward has control; it's him we'll serve."

"What if Hal asks for the guard to help him?"

"Don't go looking for trouble. Besides, Hal killed Henry."

"Says Edward."

"Says Edward. And that's who you need worry about."

Their voices dwindled and Hal sighed. Lockwell started forward again.