his new appointment as Steward of Camatayl, he knew the king expected of him first and foremost a visible lack of ambition, and he was careful to ensure he had nothing to fear from the King’s Men who regularly passed through Kamfer’s Ford. The main tower was used only by the royal couple on their travels; the rest of the time it remained a brooding reminder of unhappy times past.
Legana and her two companions arrived at Kamfer’s Ford just as evening settled in, and their first thought was to find the inn recommended by another traveller along the way. They were an unusual trio to be travelling alone, but it didn’t take them long to realise the odd looks they were receiving were not just curiosity: there was a strange air in the town’s streets.
At the door of the inn, Ardela laid a hand on Legana’s arm to catch her attention. ‘Wait; let me check the bar first,’ she said quietly.
Legana looked at her, then past Ardela and up the street, head tilted. Ardela was beginning to recognise that pose - she had as fine a nose for trouble as any devotee of the Lady, but Legana possessed some sixth sense now, a divine form of a dog’s ability to smell fear.
‘I’m not sure the bar will be any different to the street,’ Legana said into the mind of her companions.
‘There’ll be more drunks there, that’s for damn sure,’ Ardela replied. Cardinal Certinse’s former agent was trying hard to change her ways, but she was still a belligerent young woman, and muscular, too. If there was any fighting to be done, Ardela intended to do it herself rather than allow Legana to put herself at risk.
‘But they’ll be locals and I like a good bar fight as much as the next girl.’ Legana looked at Ardela and smiled in her otherworldly way.
That smile always made the newer of her followers, a young devotee called Shanas, shiver slightly.
‘When the next girl’s you, at any rate. We’d hear if there were soldiers inside looking to cause trouble - all we’ll find in here is farmers and traders and if any of them need a lesson about bothering strange blind women, so be it.’
Legana had put her blindfold on again, deciding it was better to look like a helpless blind and dumb woman than making everyone nervous by appearing to stare into their souls. She wore a scarf tied around her throat to cover the shadowy handprint there but she was otherwise dressed just like her companions, a long cloak covering manly tunics and breeches and a variety of weapons. She was about to reach for the door handle when she suddenly stopped. She cocked her head, looking slightly to one side of the door, and gave a small smile.
‘Perhaps you should go first,’ she said, patting Ardela’s forearm and urging her forward. Ardela shrugged and gave the door a push just as it was opened fully by a fat man sporting a greasy moustache and an entirely false expression of surprise.
‘Ah, good evening!’ he said in the overly slow voice of a man talking to a foreigner. He wasn’t quite able to hide the nervousness on his face.
‘He was waiting behind the door,’ Legana explained. ‘Someone must have seen us coming. He doesn’t want us inside.’
‘Hello,’ Ardela said awkwardly in the local dialect, ‘ah, speak Farlan?’
‘Of course, mistress,’ he replied, not moving from the doorway but looking from one woman to the other, as though unsure who he was really addressing. ‘You go to the tower?’
Ardela gave Legana a puzzled glance. ‘Eh, the tower? No, why?’
Relief flooded over the innkeeper’s face. ‘My apology, you are strangers; that is all.’
‘Do all strangers go to the tower?’
‘No one,’ he said with curious finality, ‘no one goes to the tower, but now...’
He tailed off and pointed to Camatayl Castle, where the tower was barely visible against the dark sky. Light shone from half a dozen of the windows. Just looking at the tower brought back the innkeeper’s apprehension. ‘I have a man, inside. He drinks and asks of the castle.’
‘We wanted a room for the night,’ Ardela explained with an impatient sniff. ‘We were recommended.’
‘But now I want a drink,’ Legana announced firmly in Ardela’s mind.
Ardela’s shoulders slumped momentarily, but she knew Legana would not be swayed. It was a similar whim that had led them to find the meek Shanas. She was no more than seventeen summers of age, and she had been taken