The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens) (21 page)

BOOK: The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens)
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It was a few days later that Adelai saw that the earl no longer placed men to watch them whenever they would go into the city. Allan had left again on another trip, and would not be due back for another week. Even then, she knew she must remain watchful. The earl may have his own spies already in the city, in place long before they arrived. The solution Adelai had thought up, to avoid being followed, was a simple one.

For two more days they continued to explore the bustling city, its bustling shops and markets. On the third day, she persuaded Daken to take her to a local tavern, one of the most popular in Arbentide. “I hope you know what you are doing,” the young man had muttered, as he pushed the door to the small inn open, where the strong smell of beer and fish wafted out.

“No,” Adelai confessed, smiling at the stricken look on his face, “But I think it will work.”

Unlike the other previous occasions, where she had taken care to don a simple dress and hood to prevent her from being recognized, Adelai wore one of her best gowns under her long cloak - an aquamarine color that suggested little to the imagination, hugging her curves. Her back was bare, a strip of sheer lace around her waist, tied lower than she should have. Daken’s eyes started out from his head when she removed her cloak, and talk inside the tavern ceased as heads turned in her direction. Adelai paused only to ask one of the tavern girls a question and, finding her answer, straightened again, turning to the crowd with a smile.

“I’m very new to the city,” Adelai said, in her softest, most suggestive, voice, “and I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost. Would any of you men like to assist me back to the castle?”

The response was overwhelming. A few men sitting nearby immediately sprang up to assist her, but were stopped in their tracks by others who thought they were more qualified. Several arguments erupted, and it was not long before the first punch was thrown. Adelai had thrown her cloak back on and stepped back as soon as the violence began, moving quickly behind a handful of barmaids who were gaping at the sudden ruckus. She tugged Daken away, toward the side of the room where another door was barely hidden. In the ensuing fight, no one saw them leave.

“How did you know that this tavern had another door?” Daken whispered, after they had made their escape down an abandoned alleyway, emerging back into the thick of the marketplace, suitably disguised once more.

“That tavern would not have gotten to be so popular if it had only one exit,” Adelai whispered, “And I noticed that it adjoined several alleys when we last visited. And there was one other thing.”

“What was that?”

Adelai’s laughter was infectious. “I asked the barmaid before I began.”

The tavern brawl, she was certain, would have prevented anyone else from following them. She asked Daken to lead them to their secret rendezvous - a brothel on the outskirts of the city, Adelai realized much to her amusement.

“It’s always too noisy inside,” Daken had explained to them. “And a lot of the whores are on our side. The madam certainly is. It helps to ensure no one is eavesdropping.”

They were let in by one of the prostitutes, who led them to the brothel owner. She was a middle-aged woman with a motherly air - the kind Adelai would never have expected to be involved in this kind of trade. “And how may I be of service to you, good sir?” She simpered.

Daken cleared his throat. “I would like Marjorie today.”

“Ah, Marjorie! Quite a popular lass today,” the madam smiled at Adelai, “And what of you, my dear?”

Adelai found herself blushing. “I’m only accompanying him, milady.”

“Milady, she says! Goodness me, duckie, I haven’t been called milady by anyone in my life. Second floor, third door on the right for the both of you.”

Daken hesitated, shooting her a glance. “Would it be possible for my companion to wait in another room?”

“And might I have a glass of water while I’m there?” Adelai chimed in.

“Oh, dearie,” the madam chuckled, “she can have the room beside yours, if you want! We always clear out the rooms on either side of you, in case it gets too noisy.”

“That way, she can make sure no one else can spy on us,” Daken explained to Adelai, as they moved up the stairs. “I know you have an oath not to break confidence, but I do not believe my friends will like it. I am sorry. Maybe I can still - ”

“No. I don’t want you to lose their trust,” Adelai assured him, “It would be better if they do not know anything about me. It would be safer for us both.”

Daken hesitated, and nodded. “Thank you.”

The room Adelai was shown into was bare, save for a small wooden bed and a sickly-looking plant atop a rickety table. She poured the water into the pot, and waited. Soon she could hear voices coming through the wall, but they were too muffled to make out any of the words. Adelai marked out the spot along the wall where the sounds seem to be at their loudest, then carefully placed the rim of the empty glass against it, pressing her ear at the other end.

“…must have spies everywhere,” a voice was saying, “King Belair is a shrewd man. Becky says at least three assassins have been sent to Atalantea, but they’re not having much luck getting past King Belair’s defenses.”

“Captain Alamar makes for an excellent commander,” another voice agreed, “on a par with Thornton or Kazer, even.” Adelai’s heart leapt at the mention of her captain’s name.

Someone else snorted. “Don’t speak to me of the Jackal. It is his brutal campaigns that leads the king to believe he is invincible.”

“It will be much more difficult to declare war the longer Belair is alive. Cut away the head, and it would be easy to dispatch of the body. His continuing health is vital to our cause. We could warn him, I suppose, but they have no reason to believe us.”

“I might know of someone who could convince him,” Daken said slowly.

“Who is it?”

“I cannot say. I do not want to drag her name into this without endangering her as well.”

“A girlfriend, Daken?” A girl’s voice asked with a laugh. Daken sputtered out a reply too low for her to hear.

“We need documents as proof,” the first voice continued, “Becky knows of one with proof that the king had ordered King Belair’s execution, and it is one with his own royal seal. Belair is a just ruler. If he knows that many Sarcopians are dissatisfied with King Garrant’s rule, he will come and aid us.”

“Do we have people in court who will move when the time comes?”

“Yes, there are many. Powerful people, those you would have thought loyal to Garrant. Not even I know all their names, but there are enough to successfully pull a coup if needed.”

“Then why don’t they?” The girl asked. “We could start a revolution tomorrow, if there are as many as you claim. Why wait to become the next Highrolfe?”

“There are complications, Sana.”

“What complication, Nemar? We ask Atalantea for help, the king is overthrown. Sarcopia is saved.”

“Because Garrant may be mad, Sana, but he is still a mad
king
. If we kill him over negligible reasons, they will avenge his death. We will have brought about Sarcopia’s doom ourselves. It is why we need those documents, first - not only as proof to Atalantea of the king’s machinations, but also to the people. It is why you are here, in fact.”

“I do not understand,” another voice murmured.

“I am the best thief in all the kingdoms,” Sana boasted, “Tell me where these documents are, and they shall be in my hands by nightfall.”

“Ah, and there’s the rub. We don’t know for sure where the documents are just yet.”

“Becky is still keeping an ear out,” Nemar said, “Once I receive word from her, we can act immediately. In the meantime, let us take our leave, and be constantly on guard. We have already spent overlong in this brothel.”

Adelai took the glass away from the wall, thoughtful.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Ball

 

 

As Lady Wilchestrom had promised, a ball in Adelai’s honor was to be held that week, over her protests. The indubitable lady, with the same zeal and enthusiasm she applied to everything, responded to her pleadings with an armload of tapestry, clothes, and food selections, and all of Adelai’s attempts to cancel the ball were ignored completely.

“You will have to humor her, I’m afraid,” Allan told her, amused. “The Lady Wilchestrom is a rather flighty woman, and parties and balls are all that occupy her thoughts. You are still the talk of the city, milady; she has been known to make pet projects out of less. The better you acquiesce and give her what she wants, the sooner she will lose interest and pursue some other new novelty.”

In the end, it was easier to get swept up in the tide than to resist it, and Adelai eventually acceded to the earl’s wisdom. It was difficult not to get caught up in Lady Wilchestrom’s energy, at her unabashed delight at every detail, even as the party drew nearer.

The gown Adelai wore that night was one the woman had personally designed for her. “It is a gift, of course,” she chuckled, “I wouldn’t dream of asking you so much as a penny for it! I like dressing pretty things, my dear, and the gods know I’ve got enough to spend it on them!”

That she was being referred to as a pretty thing should have been offensive, but it never sounded that way with Lady Wilchestrom.

“Thank you, milady.” It was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever seen, a lavender dress with yards of satin and tulle wrapped around her, and affixed at certain points by small flowers. The bulk of the soft material was gathered around her waist and allowed to trail behind her.

“Call me Rebecca, dear. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“Of course!” Adelai agreed, smiling. “But is there any other way I can repay you?”

“Give all the women who shall be attending every reason to be jealous. That should be payment enough.”

Adelai could not help but feel nervous as the time of the party approached, however. No one had ever thrown one on her behalf before, and all the instruction in the world could not prepare her for what to expect. Allan had given her permission to complete her preparations at Lord Wilchestrom’s manor. The man himself could not attend, and was pleased when his son had immediately offered to accompany Adelai during the ball, with very little nudging.

What Rebecca had laughingly passed off as a small soiree for a few friends turned out to be a grand ball with over five hundred guests in attendance. The manor was built to accommodate such numbers, and the foyer was stunning to behold. There was the crystal chandelier sparkling above them, easily eight feet long and made of a thousand little candles. The large room had every appearance of being gilded with gold at corners, and rich draperies hung from the ceilings, with rose petals gathering at the floor. By the time Adelai had made her entrance, walking down the grand staircase as she had been instructed to, the place was full of people in elaborate gowns and suits, talking and chatting among themselves as they waited for the first waltz to begin.

When her name was announced, all eyes turned in her direction as she continued her leisurely walk down the stairs, a faint hush falling over the crowd as five hundred pairs of eyes watched her. Adelai had never faced such a large number of people before, and she was thankful that the nervousness besetting her previously had nearly disappeared, and she allowed her training to take over, hoping to make as good an impression as she could.

It was when she reached the end of the stairs did she catch sight of a familiar pair of blue eyes studying her, and she nearly missed a step, catching herself in time.

It was Thornton. The captain of the guard looked just as handsome as ever, clad in his military dress uniform of a muted gray and black design. There was no expression on his face as he watched her, unreadable as always, and Adelai forced herself to do the same, meeting his steady gaze with a barely trembling smile and a heart threatening to hammer its way out of her chest, before turning away to regard the rest of the crowd.

“Oh, you killed them, my dear!” Lady Wilchestrom said happily, meeting her at the bottom. She looped an arm around hers, assuming control, much to Daken’s dismay who had approached her to offer the same gesture. The woman beamed at him. “I’m afraid I must take Adelai away from you for an hour or so. Don’t worry, milord - I promise you first dance with her as soon as I am done.” She led Adelai away, as Daken shook his head, used to the noblewoman’s whims. “You must meet my friends, the Lord and Lady Baxenwood. Horrible people,” she confided unexpectedly, “and unmitigated sycophants. The husband’s a greedy miser, the wife’s even more of a notorious spendthrift than I am. When his Lordship opens his mouth, try not to stare at his teeth, or the lack of them.”

It was hard not to giggle at her rapidfire commentary, but Adelai managed to paste a smile on her face and stop her shoulders from shaking with mirth, as they approached the couple. Though the other woman didn’t know it, she was grateful for the distraction from Thornton. He hated balls and formal affairs, she knew, and the only reason he would be attending is because this was a ball in her honor. It took all her strength not to look his way again, though she dearly wanted to see his face again.

There were many other couples who introduced themselves to Adelai, and Lady Wilchestrom’s mischievous barbs for them all were just as catty as those she had given the Lord and Lady Baxwood. “This is the Lord Englebrent, a spineless little twit who follows the General Kazer around like a human lapdog. Now this is the Lady Mauvensteir and her daughter. Ugly as a hound, those two, and with the personalities to match. Lord Flant is a thorough rake and womanizer, who would sell his mother for a raised skirt.”

Still there were many others where the lady was more fulsome in her praise. Lord Gleist was ugly in a rather interesting way, with a scar that ran from ear to jawline, but Rebecca only praised him for his military prowess, having once routed a company of Highrolfe soldiers almost singlehandedly. Adelai started a little when she was next introduced to Nemar Lacroisse, a young duke who had inherited both title and lands after his father had recently passed.

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