Royston said, taking my arm beneath the elbow as though it were nothing. I found myself immensely grateful for the gesture, nonetheless. “He’ll be wanting to make a speedy retreat, get home, and wash all the magician germs off him, that sort of thing.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, conscious once more of the guards traveling behind us. “I don’t quite follow.”
“You would have to be a student of Volstovic politics traveling back to his grandfather’s time in order to follow,” he explained. “Suffice it to say, that was a very rare occurrence, his coming here, topped only by your esteemed presence in our Basquiat, of course. In any case, I hope your retainer has given Antoinette sufficient information to work with. It wouldn’t be very inspiring to have you toppling off your horse somewhere in the Ke-Han countryside, now would it? You need each other—luckily—so we must find a way to keep you in prime shape.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, and it must have shown on my face since he paused, looking abashed.
“That was insensitive,” he said. “You must excuse me; royal audiences make me into something of a tactless brute.”
“It astounds me that one has that privilege here in Thremedon,” I said, and meant it.
Royston shrugged. “To an extent,” he said. “Now. Let us see to your friend.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CAIUS
What an adventure this is going to be, I thought as I followed Alcibiades through the secret corridor—a course of action I’d never been quite so lucky before in my life to take. Secret corridors, however, were apparently all the rage in the architecture of the Ke-Han palace, and we were lucky enough to have Lord Temur, who knew them all, as our guide.
I imagined Josette was cranky chiefly because she’d wanted to tear the palace down around our ears, but Lord Temur had pointed out how foolish that would be when it seemed that Fiacre had gone missing, along with Lieutenants Casimiro and Valery. It was a favorite strategy of the Emperor when dealing with powerful enemies, he’d explained. Instead of trying to overmatch them—a costly, tiresome endeavor—one just took hostage someone close to them. It was much less messy.
I almost admired his efficiency.
“You needn’t look so happy about all this,” Josette whispered to me. There would have been more, I suspected, except we were all trying to be quiet.
“It is quite possible that we are moving in the same direction as the young prince,” Lord Temur cautioned us, holding up a hand before he switched directions, leading us down the narrowest staircase it had ever been my pleasure to be squeezed through. I couldn’t even imagine how Alcibiades’ shoulders fit, not to mention Josette’s skirts. “These passageways were designed for servants, and so they are kept well hidden from the rest of the palace. Yet that does not mean we should engage in any loud outbursts.”
“I’m just glad there are no bastion-damned mirrors every which way,” Alcibiades muttered.
Aside from a grim expression and darkened eyes, Alcibiades had actually been surprisingly acquiescent about the sudden turn our lives had taken. Perhaps it was something to do with the sudden need for alacrity and caution—and my friend the general had risen most admirably to the occasion. His conduct was more like the soldier in him coming to the forefront. I felt safe and sound in the knowledge that he remained my ally, though the air of seriousness enshrouding him did force one to shiver.
“This will take you to the stables,” Lord Temur said, stopping at a fork before us. Down the darkened hallway there were no lights; it would be all fumbling for purchase from here on out. “You will turn left three times, and right once. If you mistake the directions, I believe you will find yourself in the barracks, which I do not suggest.”
“Hm,” Josette snorted.
We were all on the edge of a blade.
“We will continue to the location where the rest of your colleagues are being held,” Lord Temur went on, his voice hushed. I couldn’t see his eyes, nor did I know him well enough to gauge how he felt about his plan. Betrayal in the Ke-Han was a different matter entirely from betrayal in Volstov. The latter was unforgivable, it was true; but the former was a fate worse than death, a curse to future lives, and unending retribution. It would not assuage Lord Temur that what he was doing was the right thing, for “right” meant nothing to his bloodline. What a ridiculous