Looking around, he saw that many of the other hangings had some sort of device in one corner, like a maker's mark-a rose, a crown, an eagle, a tiny unicorn, the curled lizard—a number of the larger ones had several marks together in a row. He was just bending down to study these more closely when he sensed movement behind him and turned, steeling himself to face the old manservant's renewed disapproval.
There was no one there.
It might have been a draft, Alec reasoned, taking a second glance around. Then again, any of the larger tapestries could easily conceal a passageway. Whatever the case, he suddenly had an uncomfortable sense of being observed.
Unsure if it was instinct or fancy, he nonetheless did his best to appear as innocuous as possible, just in case.
The old man soon shuffled back in to announce his mistress, the Lady Kassarie a Moirian.
Kassarie swept in behind him, pulling on a hawking gauntlet as she entered. She was somewhere over forty years of age, with a broad, stern face and a manner to match. Alec stooped forward at once in a halting bow.
"What's all this about Lord Teukros?" she demanded impatiently.
"I've a message for him, my lady—" Alec began, showing the packet again.
"Yes, yes," she snapped. "But what possessed you to seek him here?"
"Well, my lady, I called at his house first thing this mornin' and was told by Lady Althia that he'd meant to ride out here last night. That's as much as I know of it."
"Dear me, that doesn't bode well," she said with evident concern. "He certainly never arrived, nor did I receive any word from him that he meant to come.
Did you see anyone on the road this morning?"
"No, my lady."
"How very puzzling. I must send word to Althia at once. You can carry it back for me, boy. Who sent you, by the way?"
"Master Verik of Canvass Lane," Alec replied. Seregil had given him the name; Verik, a merchant of genteel but common birth, was a business associate of Teukros'.
"Very good, then. I'll just dash off that note."
Having settled the matter to her own satisfaction, Kassarie turned briskly to the old retainer still hovering at her elbow. "Illester, take the lad to the kitchen while I prepare the letter. He ought to at least have a bit of hot food for his troubles."
Illester turned Alec over to a younger servant and sent them both outside again to come in at the back door.
"He's a sour old stick," Alec remarked when they were out of earshot.
"That's not for the likes of you to comment on," the servant returned stiffly.
Passing several small herb beds and a great black kettle hung steaming over an open fire, they came round to the kitchen door. Inside, two women were hard at work over wooden bread bowls.
"Kora, her ladyship wants this messenger boy fed," snapped the manservant. "See to it he stays put until he's called for."
"As if we don't have enough to occupy us this morning, and us up to the tits in flour," huffed the taller of the two women, pushing a lank strand of hair back with her forearm. "Stamie, Stamie girl! Where the blasted hell are you?"
A thin, pockmarked girl of seventeen or so staggered out of a pantry room with an immense ham in her arms. "What is it now, Auntie? I's just out to boil the ham as you told me."
"Put that aside for a moment and set this lad up in the chimney nook with a bite of tucker. There's some rabbit pie at the back of the larder needs eating. That'll do well enough for him."
Retreating meekly to his corner, Alec was quickly ignored by all but plain Stamie, who seemed to be the only friendly inhabitant of the place.
"You just let me heat this up for you," she said, setting the pot of leftovers in the coals. "Do you fancy a pint of beer with your food?"
"Yes, please. It's a long ride all the way up here from Rhнminee."
"Rhнminee, you say?" she exclaimed softly, stealing a glance in her aunt's direction.
"Gods, what I wouldn't give to find service in the city! But you've a country accent yourself. How'd you manage it?"
"My position, you mean? Well now, there's not a lot to tell," Alec stammered; he'd been sent in as a simple messenger, for the Maker's sake! It hadn't occurred to any of them that he'd need some detailed history. "Master Verik knew my father, that's all."
"Lucky you. I was born into this lot, stuck out here in the williwags, same old faces day after day."
Her callused hand brushed across his as she reached to stir the coals, and hectic patches of color fleeted across her sallow cheeks. "What's your name, stranger?"
"Elrid. Elrid of Market Lane," Alec replied, noting both her blush and the striped bead she wore on a bit of red yarn around her neck.
It was a common country charm to attract a lover.
"Well, Elrid of Market Lane, it's a fair pleasure to see someone new for a change. At least someone I don't have to wait on hand and foot!" she added, rolling her eyes.
"Lady Kassarie's got guests, then?"
"Oh, yes, but even they're the same old lot. I spent half last night trying to keep old Lord Galwain's footman out of my skirts, as usual. Why is it never the one you want that takes the liberties, eh?"
This observation, together with the warm look that accompanied it, left no doubt where Alec stood in her estimation.
"You'd best be seeing after that ham now, Stamie," her aunt interrupted gruffly. "I'm sure this great big lad don't need you spooning his food into him. Off with you, now! And no mooning about."
With a resentful roll of her eyes, Stamie hefted the ham again and disappeared into the yard. Bolting down his pot of tepid scraps under Kora's watchful eye, Alec greeted Illester's reappearance with considerable relief.
The old man dourly handed him a sealed scroll and a silver coin. "See that you put that letter into Lady Althia's hands yourself, boy. Your horse has been watered. Off with you now!"
Message in hand, Alec galloped half a mile down the road before doubling back through the trees to where Seregil and Micurn were waiting.
"Well?" Seregil demanded.
"I spoke to Lady Kassarie. She claims he never came and that she wasn't expecting him. The watchman said the same when he let me in."
"She didn't pretend not to know him, though?" asked Micum.
"No, she just seemed surprised and a bit worried over the whole business. She gave me this note to carry back."
Lifting the seals with his knife, Seregil read the letter. "Nothing unusual here. She sends her regards and hopes that Lady Althia's husband turns up soon. There's no sign of a hidden message or cipher."
"She did ask me if I'd noticed anyone on the road this morning," Alec told him.
"Nothing suspicious in that," said Micum. "What was the household like?"
"I only saw the hall, kitchen, and part of the yard. She has some other guests, though. I saw two horses saddled for traveling and the scullery maid mentioned a Lord Galwain."
"Well done," Seregil said, clapping him on the back. "What about Kassarie and her people?"
"She's civil enough, I guess. She sent me to the kitchen for something to eat while she wrote out the note. The servants, though! They all treated me like something they'd scraped off the bottom of their boots. Illester, the head manservant, seemed to think I was there to steal the silver and muddy up the carpets. The cooks were the same. The only one who was friendly at all was the scullery maid."
"Took a shine to you, did she?" asked Micum with a knowing look.
"I think she's just lonesome, and no small wonder. She asked how I got service in the city. I had to make up a bit, but—"
"Hold on," Seregil interrupted. "This girl who made eyes at you, did you get her name?"