Where had they found these things, Judah wondered—the palanquin, the cage? Did armies ride out with such things as a matter of course? She hadn’t noticed them when the troops had marched. They seemed too sturdy to have been put together on the road. The palanquin was hung with thick curtains and carried by eight guardsmen, stepping carefully to avoid jostling the injured man inside. Past them Judah could see the rest of the guards, more archers, more spearmen (although too few of those, again), with the supply carts and drummers bringing up the rear. Her eye kept returning to the palanquin. Something was wrong there, too. It nagged at her. She could feel it nagging at Gavin, as well.
The crowds in the Square were already thinning as the Seneschal ushered the four of them back into the small antechamber. In the rush-lined passage, the lamps were lit, the air thick with the smell of oil. A larger-than-usual group of guards escorted them through the passage, out the courtyard door and into chaos. As the great doors slowly creaked shut behind the procession, the new-returned guards split off into groups, calling orders, arranging for the disposition of the horses and goods and the prisoner and the fallen Lord, but the guards surrounding their own small group hustled them across the cobbles and into the House. As the door closed, Judah thought she heard a cry—of celebration or pain, she couldn’t tell.
They were escorted all the way up to their own rooms, where the Seneschal was waiting. Once they were inside, he bowed and said only, “I will send for you when he’s settled.” The words hardly seemed worth climbing the stairs for. The door closed. Judah listened as his footsteps moved away, and then realized that his were the only ones that had.
“He left the guards,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Just security,” Gavin said, but he was chewing his lip.
Elly, meanwhile, had sunk down on the sofa, her hands in her lap. Her voice was tuneless. “I feel like I should be relieved, but I’m not.”
“Colors,” Theron said.
They all looked at him. He was so quiet these days that they often forgot he was there. “What?” Gavin said impatiently.
“The colors were wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” Gavin’s tone was almost belligerent. Judah knew he was reassuring himself as much as the rest of them. “Everything will be fine.”
“You sound certain,” Elly said.
“I guess the old monster could pull through,” Gavin said.
They waited. A page brought food: soft cheese covered in pepper and sliced meat that none of them could eat. When they let the page in, Judah saw all eight guards still standing in the corridor. An hour later, another guard came; simply but politely, he said the Seneschal had sent him to fetch them, so they left the food uneaten and went.
The door guards came with them, four before and four behind in a disconcertingly formal procession through the House. They saw nobody else: no pages, no stewards, no staff of any kind. Not a single courtier. From a distance Judah heard another cry, like the one she’d heard in the courtyard. The procession ended in Elban’s parlor. Judah had never been there before. It was surprisingly austere, with only a simple wooden desk and chair, and one sofa which was well-brushed and not at all worn. There was a door in one wall, and another in the wall facing it.
With a bow, the guard who’d come to fetch them left. The other eight remained.
“He doesn’t use this room much.” Gavin spoke nervously, to fill the silence. “Just the bedroom, and—” His voice trailed off, and he nodded at one of the doors.
“And what?” Judah said.
Gavin glared at her. “And the other bedroom.”
In a moment, the door opposite the other bedroom opened, and the Seneschal emerged. “A head wound,” he said. “Serious, I’m afraid.”
“What happened?” Gavin said, although Judah didn’t see why it mattered. “Who’s the prisoner? Is he the one who dealt the blow?”
The Seneschal shook his head. “He’s a Nali chieftain. Apparently after our army captured him, his people tried to take him back. That was when Lord Elban was injured. Come in; I think you should all see.”
The bedroom was large and grandly appointed. All of the fabrics were new, rich and saturated with color, and every surface that could be gilded had been. Elban lay on the bed in a plain white nightgown, a stark contrast to the rest of the room. The side of his head was completely