“If you hadn’t locked down the keep,” Sherie continued, “I would not have been forced to circumvent you.”
“I had no choice,” Karl returned. “Not after that fool of a counselor went into the local villages along with his outlander servant, once the plague was—”
“There is no plague, as neither Jausiff nor Aupsha has come down with it ... even after secluding themselves for a quarter moon as a precaution.”
Wynn turned her head as little as possible in watching the exchange. Whatever was wrong with Jausiff, the counselor here, it was not this “plague” the duke continued to mention. And who was this “outlander” servant, considering the oddity of Suman guards under the duke’s command?
If possible, Karl’s expression darkened further. “Neither you, sister, nor the counselor are a trained physician, let alone a healer—”
“And how is any physician to come here when you let no one in?” Sherie challenged.
“Father?” Nikolas called out.
The unseemly argument between brother and sister halted as all eyes turned to Nikolas. An instant later Wynn followed the young sage’s gaze.
An aging man entered the hall with the assistance of the dark-skinned woman whom the duchess had sent off. He was in his late sixties at least, and leaning on a cane, though when he moved the cane, it struck the hall’s floor with solid certainty each time. Dressed in the gray robe of a cathologer, as he had once been in the guild, Master Columsarn’s shoulders were broad, his face was nearly unlined, and his silver-white hair was cropped evenly at his collar. His eyes were light blue, and they panned slowly through the hall and took in everything before stopping upon his adopted son.
“Nikolas!” he said with a smile.
In contrast, the woman at his side ...
Wynn fixed on the woman she had first seen with the duchess, and studied this one more closely now. She had heard of people who lived south of the Suman Empire in the savannahs and jungles there. They were reported to be dark skinned, but Wynn had never imagined how dark, as she had never seen any of them. The woman’s hair was brown black and fell in tight, almost kinky curls to her shoulders. The long, heavy skirt and undyed wool tunic looked somehow awkward and improperly fit on her tall frame, as if they were borrowed and not entirely comfortable.
Nikolas hurried to his father. “Are you all right? What is ailing you?”
“I informed him that you were not well,” Sherie said quickly.
Wynn took note of this strange comment as Jausiff blinked and then nodded.
“Thank you, my lady,” he replied as he gripped Nikolas affectionately by the arm. “Nothing is wrong, my son, just old age catching up with me.” Then he lifted one eyebrow with a wry smile at the duchess. “She dotes on me too much. That is all.” Half turning, he handed his cane to the tall woman beside him. “Aupsha, take this for me, please. I have my son to lean on now.”
With a respectful half bow, the woman did so, and it was obvious to Wynn to whom the duke referred as the “outlander” servant. Everything here was getting more tangled by the moment between Nikolas’s past and the present.
“And were you expecting Nikolas to arrive in such ... company?” Karl asked.
For an instant Jausiff’s fatherly joviality slipped as he took in all the newcomers, finishing with Wynn ... and his gaze lingered on her, dropping and rising at the sight of her midnight blue robe. Suddenly Master Columsarn did not appear pleased.
“I brought the texts you requested from Premin Hawes,” Wynn explained.
“Yes, yes,” he said, instantly regaining his good nature as he looked to the duke. “My lord, I was expecting an emissary from the guild with some texts.” He smiled at Osha. “I did not expect Lhoin’na archers but am glad the guild sees to my son’s well-being.”
Wynn glanced up to her left. Osha nodded politely, and perhaps he followed the situation better than she realized—as she was barely following it herself.
“So my sister requested these texts for you?” Karl asked.
The number of interlaced lies and half-truths grew by the moment, and Wynn had trouble keeping up. But the young duke was being handled carefully in his sister’s efforts to protect the family’s counselor.
“Of course,” Sherie answered, much calmer now. “At his request, and while he and Aupsha were quarantined. Master Jausiff so rarely asks for anything, so I was glad to assist him ... as you would be, brother.”
Karl’s mouth tightened at the barb. “Forgive all this fuss, my old friend,” he said to Nikolas. “The plague has caused such caution of late. But it is good to see you again.”
“Well, then ...” Jausiff said, taking his hand from Nikolas’s arm and pressing his palms together. “We shall need to find you all rooms and arrange for a late supper. I am sure you are tired and hungry.”
“Rooms?” Karl repeated, glancing once at Chane and then at Osha. “For them all ... in the keep?”
“Of course,” Sherie repeated. “They cannot stay in the villages, and, as lord here, I know you would never refuse hospitality to an old friend, an emissary from the guild, or their assigned guardians.”
Her tone was polite and matter-of-fact, as if no question was at stake and she simply spoke the obvious. Still, her brother eyed her for a moment.
“No ... no, of course not,” he agreed. “Please see to their rooms, as I have other ... business to attend.”
“Of course,” she answered, and that echoed phrase began to sound like mockery to Wynn.
“Nikolas,” the duke called out in striding off the way he had come. “You and I must catch up soon.”
“I fear I must rest a bit, son,” Jausiff said. “Perhaps you should go and get settled now.”
The young duchess recovered, drawing herself up.
“Come with me, please. Rooms were being prepared even as we were delayed.”
She said this with such clear distaste that Wynn felt somewhat embarrassed. She’d never enjoyed being an unwanted guest, and she and hers were certainly that, it seemed. Osha especially looked uncomfortable, though Chane simply cocked his head after the duchess to signal Wynn to follow. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him; it was one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses.
Wynn dropped her hand on Shade’s neck. “Come on.”
As they headed into a side archway, Wynn saw the three Suman guards fall in behind. Along the way, three Numan guards dressed like those outside joined the procession. For better or for worse, Wynn and her companions were now well-protected guests locked inside this keep.
Chapter Eleven
Chane could not help being alarmed by the number of guards “escorting” a small group of guests to their rooms. And what were Sumans doing in this remote place? All six guards remained a discreet distance behind, but he glanced back more than once, and noticed that Osha did the same. The elf, Nikolas, and Wynn each carried one of the three candle lanterns from the main hall.
Duchess Beáumie, holding her velvet skirt in one hand as she began climbing a flight of stairs, led the way as if the guards did not exist.
She stepped off the landing upon reaching the third floor.
“I apologize that we have no true guest quarters,” she said, not sounding remotely apologetic. “The keep is small; however, we have three spare rooms in the upper servants’ area. Though they are sparsely furnished, you should find them comfortable.”
Down the passage, Chane spotted three open doors. Two female servants in white aprons hurried out of the far one.
“Is all prepared?” Sherie asked.
The second girl halted, turned, and bowed her head. “Yes, my lady.”