Ironcrown Moon (61 page)

Snudge said, “Open wooden steps lead from the armory in the southwestern corner of the upper level, and from the adjacent guards’

dormitory in the northwestern corner. The other rooms on that floor, a library and two smaller chambers that may be laboratories used by the resident shamans, give only onto the corridor and main staircase. It may be possible to trap the men on the roof if we act quickly.”

The peel was simply constructed, having three levels and a cellar. On the lowest floor were the gate vestibule and guardroom, the great hall, the kitchen, washrooms, cramped dormitories for the housecarls and maids, and some small offices. The middle floor had a solar, the master sleeping chamber, three other fine bedrooms, and sleeping cubbies for the lord and lady’s bodyservants.

“I see ten or a dozen servitors here and there,” Snudge said, “and two well-dressed older boys in a chamber near the kitchen working at some manner of woodcarving. Perhaps they are part of the shaman’s family. And up in the library is a much younger lad who must be Prince Dyfrig. But the woman with him is not Maudrayne. She has the look of a servant. Where can the princess be?”

“Look to that low annex building at the right of the main keep,” Induna said. “The lady is in the uppermost part of the windmill turret, also watching the ship. But she uses a spyglass, not talent.

How beautiful she is! One would know she was once a queen, even though her dress is plain.”

Snudge oversaw the tall, proud figure crowned with unbound fiery hair. Her gown was unadorned light green linen, but she wore a magnificent necklace of opals mounted in gold.

After a moment she set the long brass instrument aside and seated herself. Her lovely face was unreadable, but she would surely know that the ship was Cathran. Did she speculate that rescuers might be aboard—or would she make a more realistic judgment and think that Con-rig’s agents had found her at last, and she and her son had not long to live?…

“Comrades,” Snudge said, “the presence of the ship, and the fact that the princess and her son are so widely separated, complicates our mission. The little prince is in a room close to the armory, where at least eight guards are at work, and Ontel and his shamans are also very near to the boy. I had hoped to avoid fighting, but now it may be inevitable. This is what we’re going to do.”

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Once Induna’s compulsion had forced the four guards at the gate to open the sallyport, Snudge and his men, come out from Concealer’s spell and, freed of their hated straps, made short work of the ensorcelled defenders. The four stood silent and as docile as lambs while being bound, gagged, and stripped of their livery and armor. The captives were then consigned to a dark nook in the guardroom while

Gavlok, Hanan, Radd, and Hulo assumed their identities. Valdos had to wait briefly while invisible Induna sought out and bewitched a household lackey of appropriate build, then conducted him to the guardhouse. This fellow’s garb provided a suitable disguise for the task assigned to Snudge’s squire.

While his men were changing their clothes, Snudge took Induna aside. “I’d be more easy in my mind if you’d accompany me to Princess

Maude’s turret, rather than sharing the more perilous work.”

“I might be sorely needed,” she said, “if Ontel or one of his magickers comes down from the roof before the steps can be destroyed, or if a melee ensues. And I can protect little Prince Dyfrig better than your men can.”

Snudge scowled. “Very well. You’ve persuaded me. But take care. You must all be with me and the princess inside the turret before the ship comes within cannon range of the peel. Feribor will surely threaten to bombard it as a ploy to obtain the prisoners. He may even lob a shell or two
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for emphasis—and only heaven knows how Ontel will respond. He’s probably thinking of using one of those catapults from the armory. I scried some guardsmen tinkering with them. It’ll be devil catch the hindmost if Ontel tosses a bombshell at the ship, and it fires back. The peel will have the worst of it. I doubt a backwoods Tarnian castellan like Ontel has any notion of the power and range of a modern frigate’s guns.”

“We’re ready, Deveron ” Gavlok said. He and the others who had put on the guards’ helmets, mail shirts, and surcoats formed up and smote their breasts in mock salute. Valdos hung behind them, smirking. He’d been forced to give up his sword but had hidden two daggers under his servant’s smock.

Induna said, “I’m going with you soldier boys. But don’t give me a second thought. I can take care of myself—and I may even be able to make myself useful in a pinch.” She vanished.

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

“God go with you all,” Snudge said, and took up Concealer.

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There was a single workman in the annex, making some repair to the water-pump machinery at the base of the turret. The rest of the stone building comprised a stable, a byre for two milch cows, a fowl coop, and a warren of miscellaneous storerooms.

Snudge crept up on the kneeling engineer while invisible and hit him a tap just above the ear with the sock he’d filled with beach sand.

The man fell over, moaning, and was quickly trussed and put out of the way. Then Snudge mounted the turret’s spiral iron stairway, moving slowly. The initial pangs resulting from his use of Concealer had sapped some of his strength, but the worst of it would come the next time he slept, and would no doubt be submerged in the greater pain-price he anticipated paying later…

When he reached the top of the tower, making no sound, the princess was looking through the spyglass again, standing with her back to him. He cleared his throat and spoke low.

“Lady Maudrayne, please refrain from turning around.”

She could not help flinching at the unexpected voice, but displayed no fear. “Why should I not?”

she asked sharply, and lowered the spyglass and began to turn anyway. “Who are you? How dare you accost me here? Lord Ontel gave me this place for a private sanctum.

Where are you hiding, you impudent knave?”

“Lady, the shamans may be scrying you as you speak. I beseech you to compose yourself! You must not rouse their suspicions. Go back to the window and resume your study of the sea or else sit quietly on the bench. Please show no excitement, and cover your mouth with your hand if you must speak. I’ll explain myself. I’ve come to free you and your son.”

She plopped down on the circular seat surrounding the shaft housing, eyes wide and lips parted in astonishment as she realized she was being addressed by one who was invisible. An instant later she lowered her head and allowed her thick auburn tresses to veil her face.

“Are you a wizard, then? Perhaps come here from yon ship?”

Snudge intoned, “BI FYSINEK.” He appeared, sitting beside her.

Her blue eyes blazed behind the gleaming curtain of hair. “You,” she whispered. “Deveron Austrey, my husband’s strangely talented spy!

I think you’ve come not to liberate us, but to put an end to us.”

“Not so, my lady. These days, I serve not only the High King, but also another master—whose commands supersede those of Conrig, and who wishes no harm to befall you.”

“So you say,” she jeered. “Aren’t you afraid the shamans will scry you talking to me?”

“You called me talented, and so I am, and very strangely. No one can scry me. But we must not bandy words, for there’s little time. The ship you observed approaching the peel carries Duke
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Feribor Blackhorse. He intends to steal away you and your son and force you to serve his own purposes before disposing of you both.”

“No!” she cried.

“It’s true. Whereas I hope to transport you to the safe custody of your uncle, High Sealord Sernin, after making to you a proposal that may ensure your future safety—and give to your son some of his birthright.”

“What are you saying?” she breathed, leaning closer to him. “What sort of a proposal? Who is your master, if not the man who is my greatest foe?”

“Lady, there’s no time to speak of this now. He is a person of great power, that is all I can tell you about him. He knows how you were taken away and safeguarded by Ansel Pikan, but also knows that Ansel is no longer able to protect you from those who would deny your destiny.

He’s the one who permitted me to come to you, when Ansel would have tried to prevent it.

Most important… he is one who

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon knows that only Conrig Wincantor can save our world from the terrible catastrophe that threatens it. Only the Sovereign will be able to defend our beloved island from an impending invasion by Salka monsters.

“Salka?” She was skeptical. “But they hide in Moss’s fens.”

“No more! These inhuman fiends have already murdered the entire royal family of Didion. They are poised to take over the kingdom of

Moss, now that Queen Ullanoth is gone. After that, they’ll attack Cathra and Tarn, using the same moonstone sorcery of the Beaconfolk that confronted Emperor Bazekoy when he conquered Blenholme on behalf of humanity. No other ruler living has the military prowess of Conrig. He is a flawed man: in many ways, a wicked man. But he is the only one who can save our island. And for this reason you will not be permitted to destroy him.”

“I… will not be permitted

…” Outrage robbed her of speech.

“Lady, you have been cruelly wronged. You thought yourself justified in avenging yourself and your son by revealing Conrig’s two great secrets to your brother and to the other sealords.

Perhaps you believe that the king’s fate is already sealed. It’s not. He won’t be deposed because of what you’ve done. He will not lose his Iron Crown. But he will be distracted, and his energies will be diverted from more important matters as he defends himself against you. His human enemies will also assail him if he seems vulnerable. Thus he maybe prevented from defeating the monsters… if you do not recant your accusation.”

“Never!” She was ashen with reined-in fury. “Never never never will I take back my words, because I have spoken only the truth!”

“Let me tell you what you would receive in exchange,” Snudge said. “First of all, your son Dyfrig would be given special status by the king. Since you cannot prove absolutely who his father might be—”

She drew breath to scream an imprecation, but Snudge covered her mouth with a firm hand and said urgently, “Listen! Listen, for the love of God. We have no time for your temper!”

She slumped forward as though he’d struck her. He felt hot tears on his hand and she shuddered, shaking her head.

He released her. “There is no proof that Dyfrig is Conrig’s firstborn, but neither is there proof that he is not. And so by royal decree he can be placed third in the line of succession, behind the king’s young twin sons by Queen Risalla, Orrion and Corodon. Dyfrig will be adopted by the Earl Marshal of the Realm, Parlian Beorbrook, a nobleman of impeccable character. He will be styled ‘Prince’. If Dyfrig shows competence, he will eventually inherit Lord Parlian’s familial
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office and the great Duchy of Beorbrook. The marshal’s only surviving son, Count Elktor, cannot in justice fill his father’s boots, and he already has lands of his own. Should Parlian die untimely, the office of earl marshal will remain vacant and its perquisites held in abeyance until Dyfrig is of a suitable age to take them up. If for some reason he cannot do this, he will still be provided for as a prince royal.”

“Third in the succession?” Maudrayne said tremulously. “Adopted by dear old Parli?”

“This is my proposal. As for yourself, you will live in Tarn under the protection of your uncle, who will be responsible for your good conduct. You’ll have no physical contact with your son until he has reached his majority. He will know you are his mother, however, and you will be permitted to write to him—although not secretly.”

“And to attain all this, I must say I lied when I revealed Conrig’s secret talent.”

“You must convince the sealords of it,” Snudge corrected her gently. “There can be no halfheartedness, no sly winks, no mental reservations or future denials or treasonous schemings.

Or else Dyfrig will suffer the ultimate penalty, while you will live on.”

She wiped away her tears. “This is hard. Harder than you know. Conrig betrayed me with Ullanoth—”

“He never will again. She is as good as dead.” Snudge waited, but Maudrayne only raised her head and stared out to sea. The ship was perceptibly closer. “Well, my lady?”

She sighed. “I agree to all of it… But how will we now escape from here? You said you would carry us safely to Donorvale, but that seems hardly possible.”

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“It is possible, and it will be done. But first I must put the proposal to the High King and obtain his agreement.”

“What! He doesn’t know?”

Snudge’s expression was rueful. “I could say nothing to him until I successfully reached your side and heard from your own lips that you would agree. I am a wild-talented windvoice. With your permission, I’ll now bespeak Lord Stergos in Gala Palace, and he’ll put the matter to His Grace.”

She was trembling with shock and anger, and for a moment it seemed her fierce pride would overturn everything. But then she threw back her head and laughed. “Go ahead. But oh—how I wish I could see Con’s face when he’s told!”

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“I’ve sent for him,” Stergos told Snudge on the wind. “He’s at a meeting of the Privy Council and the Lords of the Southern Shore, attempting to quash the rumors that already filter out of Tarn. But I’ve informed him that the message is crucial—and that you’re alive.”

But not that I’m with Princess Maudrayne, I hope.