Fey 02 - Changeling (89 page)

Clearly, though, the Tabernacle needed his help.
 
He would convince Matthias to take the guards no matter what it took.

He strode through the gate and across the courtyard.
 
Halfway to the double doors, a movement on the balcony above caught his eye.
 
He looked up, but saw nothing.

Except a rope, hanging from the balcony railing.

Stowe swore under his breath.
 
He went to the rope.
 
It was tied to a tree.
 
This had to be the rope that Luke had used to get in.
 
Damn the Elders.
 
They knew and had done nothing.
 
They wanted Matthias out as badly as Nicholas did.

And Matthias, the man Stowe had seen that afternoon, had been in no real condition to take precautions for himself.

Stowe tugged on the rope.
 
It was hanging loosely from the balcony.
 
The rope swinging in the slight breeze had been what caught his eye.

He posted two guards beside it, and went to the double doors.
 
As he thought.
 
No Auds standing guard.
 
The light from the torches provided him with a good view of the area.
 
Except for his own guards, he was alone.

With his fist, he pushed down on the handle.
 
It turned easily, but he didn't open the door.
 
Instead, he pounded on the knocker, allowing the sound to echo throughout the Tabernacle.
 
Good to scare these people just a little, and let them know that Matthias wasn't the only one jeopardized by the Fey.

No one answered.
 
The discomfort he felt grew.
 
He glanced at the guards behind him. One was looking up at that balcony.
 
It bothered Stowe as well.
 
The rope should have been gone.
 
As it was, it pointed clearly to the Rocaan's rooms.
 
He hoped that Matthias had been smart enough to change locations.

He doubted that Matthias had.

But Matthias may have spent another night in the worship room.
 
He had done so after Luke left.
 
There was no telling with these religious people.

When no one answered the knock, Stowe rapped again, hard this time so that the sound not only echoed through the Tabernacle, but through the courtyard as well.

Finally the door swung open.
 
An Aud poked his head out.
 
His hair was tousled and his eyes were half open.
 
He had been sound asleep.

He couldn't have been more than twelve.

No protection.
 
No protection at all.

When Stowe returned to the palace, he would check the systems that Nicholas had in place.
 
Sometimes the old ways were taken for granted without taking into account change.

Nicholas might not have implemented new systems with all the deaths.
 
Guards might be awaiting orders from the new king.

The thought made Stowe cold.

The Aud was staring at him as if he hadn't seen a lord before.
 

"I'd like to see the Holy Sir," Stowe said.

The boy shook his head.
 
"Tis sorry I am, sir, but the Rocaan beds down just near twilight."

"I think he'll see me," Stowe said.

"I canna bother him, sir.
 
Tis orders I have, and tis strong ones."
 
The boy was not from Jahn.
 
He would never be in the Tabernacle if he were from a farming family, but his speech marked him as a member of the serving class.
 
He had to be from the mountains or the Cliffs of Blood.

Or the Kenniland Marshes.

Stowe had had enough.

"He'll see me," Stowe said, and pushed past the child as Nicholas had done earlier that day.

Darkness made the Tabernacle gloomy.
 
Candles burned in lamps around the entry area, but the entire effect was one of deep blackness.
 
Another Aud came toward Stowe from the gloom.
 
He was older than the first, but not by much.

"Is there an Officiate here?" Stowe asked.
 

The newer Aud shook his head.
 
"The Officiates are traveling right now," he said.

"Then who is running the Tabernacle?"

"Elder Porciluna," said the first Aud.
 
"He is still awake if you would like to speak with him."

"No," Stowe said.
 
"I will talk with the Rocaan."

The new Aud crossed his arms and blocked the stairs.
 
"The Rocaan said none of the king's men could visit him."

That was the first evidence of smart thinking Stowe had seen since he arrived at the gates.
 
"I need to see him.
 
You'll wake him."

"No, your lordship."

The guards were crowding the door, blocking the light.
 
The young Aud looked frightened.
 
After the scene with Nicholas that afternoon, who could be surprised that they were afraid of the guards?
 

Stowe clenched his fists.
 
Once this had been a wonderful place to live.
 
Before the Fey everyone had gotten along.
 
The Tabernacle and the palace had worked together.
 
Now they were frightened of each other.

The Fey would conquer the Isle by making the Islanders fight among themselves.

"Very well," Stowe said.
 
"Let me see Elder Porciluna."
 
Perhaps he would have more sense than the Auds.
 
No sense arguing with boys when he could talk to someone with more power.

The young Aud nodded.
 
The newer Aud waved him away.
 
The young Aud disappeared down the corridor.

Stowe wasn't certain whether Porciluna would help him or not.
 
Porciluna's desire to be Rocaan was well known.
 
He would probably want Matthias out of the way — and keeping him unguarded was a good way to do it.

Stowe's own guards were crowding him.
 
He turned.
 
"Get back, men," he said softly.
 
"Scout the area.
 
Tell me if you see anything suspicious."

"I don't think that's wise," the newer Aud said.

"Either they look or I bring them inside," Stowe said.
 
"This delay isn't wise.
 
It is, in fact, angering me.
 
The King sent his guards here in an effort to protect the Rocaan."

"Frankly, Milord, there is no way we can know that.
 
The entire Tabernacle has heard of their fight this afternoon.
 
If I were the King —."
 
The Aud interrupted himself and shook his head.
 

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Stowe knew what he was going to say.
 
The King had every right to seek revenge against Matthias.
 
Every right.
 
Even the Auds knew that, and they should support their own leader.

The guards had backed away.
 
Some were walking through the courtyard, quietly discussing the tile design. Others were pushing aside bushes.
 
Still others were examining the rope.

Stowe tried not to sigh.
 
He hated waiting
 
more than anything else.
 
The Aud was a small barrier.
 
He could push past the man and hurry up the stairs.
 
But a door opened on a side corridor, and Porciluna came out.
 
He wore a satin sleeping robe.
 
The sword around his neck was the only sign of his office.
 
His cheeks were ruddy with sleep, and his eyes looked as if he had rubbed them awake.

"The Aud says you were sent by the King to guard the Rocaan," Porciluna said. "Are we talking about the same king?
 
Alexander hasn't been raised from the dead, has he?"

Porciluna's words stung.
 
No wonder the old Rocaan had passed him over.
 
Porciluna would never be a diplomat.

"No," Stowe said, making certain that he spoke evenly.
 
"He is not back from the dead.
 
King Nicholas regrets his burst of anger and has thought about the things the Rocaan told him.
 
The Rocaan is right; Blue Isle needs him.
 
The King will provide him with trained protection."

"Blue Isle needs the Rocaan's knowledge," Porciluna said, almost under his breath.
 
Stowe watched him warily.
 
If he had ever heard one of the lords speak that way about Nicholas, he would have reported it to the King immediately.
 
He felt no such loyalty for the Rocaan.

"The Isle needs the Rocaan," Stowe said.
 
"I would like to station guards at his doors, and on his balcony, as well as throughout the Tabernacle."

"Considering the relationship between the palace and the Tabernacle at this moment, the Rocaan would be a fool to allow this."
 
Porciluna grinned.
 
"I, of course, think it's a wonderful idea."

"I'm sure you do," Stowe said, managing to speak without the sarcasm that he felt.
 
"Let me talk with the Rocaan.
 
After all, it is his decision."

Porciluna fingered the small sword around his neck.
 
"It's most irregular, you know.
 
This sort of thing."

Stowe suppressed a sigh.
 
Was the man angling for a bribe?
 
That would be even more irregular.
 
"The King believes that something might happen soon.
 
Maybe even tonight.
 
The Fey take revenge quite seriously."

"I'm sure they do," Porciluna said with the same guileless tone Stowe had used a moment before.
 
Stowe hadn't fooled him at all.

"So I would like to see the Rocaan now."

"Really, milord, I do think I would need to discuss this with him.
 
We have Auds at the door.
 
Tomorrow morning —"

"Your Auds are untrained children.
 
I have soldiers who learned to fight the Fey in the Invasion and the subsequent battles."

"You have soldiers who are really guards, men who were lucky enough to survive until we provided you with holy water.
 
Milord, we are capable of taking care of ourselves."
 

This time, Stowe did sigh.
 
"I have orders, Respected Sir.
 
My orders are to talk with the Rocaan.
 
At least allow me to perform my duties."

"I do think this discussion can wait until morning."

"I don't," Stowe snapped.
 
Actually, Porciluna probably was right — the discussion could wait — but it was becoming a matter of principle for Stowe.

"Milord."
 
The voice came from behind him.
 
It was tentative, as if it knew it shouldn't be speaking.
 

Porciluna had looked over his shoulder.
 
His face had gone pale.