STATIONERY AND GOLD INK
The same day Karigan learned she was being sent into
Blackveil, she received an invitation. It had been slipped beneath
her chamber door in the Rider wing and she found it after she
returned from her ride among the Scangly Mounds. Her name was
neatly scripted on the envelope in gold ink, and when she flipped
it over she discovered two seals: the royal seal of King Zachary
and the cormorant seal of Clan Coutre.
She sat on her bed
gazing at the seals in trepidation. If this had something to do
with the betrothal, which appeared likely, she was sure she didn’t
want to even look at it. Her curiosity, however, soon got the best
of her and with a rattling sigh, she slipped her thumb beneath the
seals and opened the envelope.
Within was a piece
of fine stationery, again inked with gold. It was an invitation
from both King Zachary and Lady Estora to ... to a masquerade ball?
Yes, a masquerade ball to celebrate the forthcoming end of the
winter and the arrival of spring. Was this all aristocrats did?
Invent reasons to hold balls and banquets and parties? Ever since
the betrothal, it surely seemed to be the case.
More important,
would she have to go? The very idea of it spawned even more dread
within her than going into Blackveil, albeit dread of a different
nature.
There was, of
course, the discomfort of having to be out among so many
aristocrats in one place, but worse was having to see Lady Estora
and King Zachary together.
Why have I been
invited?
There had been
plenty of other events she’d not been invited to. Why this? Why
now?
She decided to ask
the captain her opinion on the matter, for this was after all, an
invitation. The last time she attended
a ball put on by the king, she’d been ordered to go. Her chance to address the situation
with the captain came the following afternoon when finally
completed the payroll. When she reached officers’ quarters, the
captain ushered her right in and together they went over Karigan’s
figures.
“I’m glad you
untangled this as quickly as you did,” Captain Mapstone said,
settling into her chair behind her worktable. “Otherwise we’d have
some anxious and unhappy Riders on our hands. I know there are a
few who send their pay back home to their families. Have you, by
the way, thought of anyone to back you up on the accounts when
you’re away?”
Karigan nodded. It
had not been difficult. “Daro.”
Captain Mapstone
appeared pleased. “Yes, that’s who I thought of as well. I
understand her family runs a dry goods store in
Childrey.”
“Yes,” Karigan
replied. “She’s very good at figuring and knows how to keep a
ledger.”
“Excellent.”
They discussed Daro
for a while longer and how to work some time into her schedule to
train with Karigan. When the discussion ran its course and the
captain looked ready to dismiss Karigan, Karigan spoke
up.
“Captain,” she
began.
“Yes? Was there
something else?” The captain looked eager to be helpful and Karigan
remembered she’d been told to come to her with any questions after
their conversation about Blackveil. The captain did not send her
Riders into dangerous situations blithely, Karigan knew, and would
do anything in her power to be supportive. Karigan had spent enough
time around the castle and military to know many officers were not
of that mold; they cut themselves off from the people in their
command and sent them into jeopardy without a second thought as if
they were not people but pieces on a game board. It only elevated
her respect for her captain.
“I received this.”
She handed the invitation to the captain who regarded it with
dismay. Why it should dismay her, Karigan couldn’t guess, but maybe
it meant she wouldn’t have to attend the masquerade
ball.
“I heard they were
planning a masque,” Captain Mapstone murmured. She gazed at the
envelope and Karigan’s name in gold ink.
“I was wondering if
it’s something I have to attend.”
“Have to? I think
not, but you’ll have to consider your position and what it
represents.”
“My
position?”
“Yes. You are now a
knight of the realm. The only knight of
the realm. See here, it’s not addressed simply to Karigan
G’ladheon, or even Rider G’ladheon, but to Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon. Your position, your status,
is now more prominent and your absence would be notable to those
who take account of such things, both friends and enemies of the
king. You see, the king’s highest officers and vassals are symbols
of his power and authority and if one of those symbols is missing?
Some may view such an absence as a weakening of the king’s
authority, a lack of support from one of his allies. Do you
understand my meaning?”
Unfortunately,
Karigan did.
“If you want to
support your king, I’m afraid it’s highly recommended you at least
make an appearance at the ball.” The captain frowned and gazed out
her arrow-slit window. “I should have known this was coming, that
you’d be drawn into the affairs of the court.” When she returned
her gaze to Karigan she looked no happier. “I would guess this is
not the last such invitation you’ll receive. If you decide to
attend the masque, you must keep your wits about you. You are now
more than a mere Rider, one whose position is of importance to the
king. What you say and do will not only reflect on the king, but
will be interpreted and misinterpreted by members of the court. You
never know when something you say will come back to cause trouble
years later. The wrong words or actions may be used against you;
may be used to undermine the authority of the king and cause great
harm.
“You are worthy of
the honor Zachary bestowed upon you, but I wonder if he considered
the consequences ...” She handed the invitation back to Karigan
shaking her head. “I’m afraid with your knighthood you are entering
the very thorny world of the royal court.”
The captain’s speech
and grim expression were not at all reassuring. Karigan’s sense of
dread increased tenfold.
And if what the
captain had said was not enough, she added, “Yours is an unusual
position, Karigan. I know you will choose wisely and act
accordingly.”
Karigan tucked the
invitation into the pocket of her shortcoat wishing the captain
would offer some reassurance, but she only sat behind her table
still looking troubled.
Someone knocked on
the door.
“Enter,” Captain
Mapstone called.
The door opened and
a tall and rangy man in buckskin stepped inside. He was a Rider
rarely seen and Karigan almost did not recognize him.
Captain Mapstone
stood and rounded her table to clasp his hand. “Lynx! Welcome
back.”
Not all Riders were
always engaged in carrying messages. Sometimes they proved useful
to the king in other capacities. Lynx, for instance, used his
wilderness skills to keep watch on the northern boundary, aided by
his special ability to communicate with the local
wildlife.
Karigan greeted him
in turn and sensing it was time to go so the captain could speak
with Lynx in private, she slipped outside, closing the door behind
her.
She strode across
castle grounds with hands in pockets against the chill. The
pathways were strangely empty and she supposed people were keeping
close to their hearth fires today. Winter wasn’t gone yet and even
in spring they were apt to get a snowstorm or two.
Karigan sighed,
expelling a steamy breath as she sorted out the captain’s words.
She’d known that there would be some extra duties expected of her
with the knighthood, but since nothing in her life had seemed to
change since the knighting and everyone treated her the same, she
thought maybe life would continue along normally. It appeared this
was not to be so.
As for the masque,
the decision to attend belonged to her alone, but as presented by
the captain, it was not much of a choice. Attend and show support
for her king, or by her absence dishonor him. Her absence, the
captain said, would be notable.
When she was
younger, she would have been thrilled by the prospect of a royal
masquerade ball. According to her aunts, one or two balls had been
held at the G’ladheon estate while her mother was still alive, but
those would have been humbler affairs attended by business
associates, minor officials, family, and friends, not a castleful
of lords and ladies.
With your knighthood you are entering the very thorny
world of the royal court, the captain had said.
Karigan shuddered.
She would attend the masquerade ball to support her king, but she
would stay for as short a time as was courteous.
As she neared the
main castle entrance, she saw the prison wagon leaving the grounds.
She was not close enough to see who was within the vehicle—pretty
much a cage on wheels—or how many. Guards in Sacoridian black and
silver strode alongside the wagon. The prisoners must have just
received judgment from King Zachary and were either being
transferred to the city jail or being taken to the gallows. She had
not heard about any public hangings of late, but then again, she
chose not to pay much attention to such things. She’d attended one
public execution, that of old Lord Mirwell, and that had been one
too many.
When she mounted the
steps of the castle entrance, she discovered Yates there, arms
crossed, watching after the prison wagon and chatting with the
guards on duty at the doors.
“You missed the
excitement,” he told her.
“What
excitement?”
“One of the
prisoners went berserk,” said the door guard, Mikel. “Sent Jenks to
the mending wing.”
“I guess the
prisoner didn’t like his sentence,” Yates said. “He’s one of
Immerez’s men. Took part in Lady Estora’s abduction.”
The naming of
Immerez brought Karigan up short. Immerez, formerly of the
Mirwellian militia, had been in on his old lord’s scheme to
overthrow King Zachary, and when that failed, he escaped justice
and became an outlaw working with Second Empire. He had been behind
the plot to abduct Lady Estora, but in the end she was rescued and
Immerez and his men captured.
“That prisoner ought
to give ’em a show down at the Hanging Square,” Mikel said, and he
placed an invisible noose around his neck and pretended to flail,
his face contorting in a grotesque expression. His fellow door
guard laughed.
Disgusted, Karigan
headed inside, Yates following along.
“Was Immerez in that
wagon?” she asked.
“No. The king’s
still holding him for whatever reason.”
Karigan didn’t know
what more they could possibly get out of the man, but his fate was
all but assured. He’d have his turn at the gallows.
“Lynx came in a
little while ago,” Yates said as they strode through the castle
toward the Rider wing.
“I know. I just saw
him. I wonder what’s brought him back.”
“I have my guess,”
Yates said.
Karigan waited, but
he didn’t explain. “Well?” she
demanded.
Yates started
whistling some tuneless melody.
“You’re not going to
tell me?”
“Nope, don’t think I
can.”
“Can’t, or
won’t?”
Yates smiled
enigmatically. “Yes.”
“You’re awful! I
should throttle you!”
Yates side-stepped
away in mock horror almost bumping into an annoyed administrative
clerk hurrying along the corridor. “Please, Sir Karigan! Please
don’t hurt me!” He gave her his most woebegone
expression.
“Oh, you are
pathetic,” she told him.
“Why thank you!” He
resumed his whistling.
“You don’t have to
be so bloody smug about it.”
“About being
pathetic?”
“You know what I
mean!”
He only gave her
that maddening smile. As they turned down the Rider wing Karigan
could not help wondering what he knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t
tell her. And how would he know about what brought Lynx
back?
It began to dawn on
her what it might be, and if she were right? The last thing Yates
should be was happy about it.