there's nothing.'
This was Ham's specialty. Cassien had no idea what to suggest. 'Follow your instincts,' he offered. 'What are they telling you?'
Ham looked up at him. 'It's hiding.'
Their conversation came to an abrupt end as one of the soldiers approached. 'The queen will see you now.' Cassien nodded, threw a tight glance at Ham. 'Follow us, please. The boy is to go with this messenger.'
A sandy-haired youngster not far off Ham's age, but far better dressed and rosy-cheeked, regarded them. 'I am Meek, sir,' he said to Cassien, and nodded at Hamelyn. 'I was told to take you to the kitchens ... to make sure you were given some food.'
Hamelyn's eyes lit up.
'Off you go,' Cassien urged. 'I'll see you shortly. And, Ham ... keep listening,' he said carefully. Ham nodded.
The senior soldier put a hand up and gestured for one of his men to search Ham and he was duly given permission to go with Meek. Now the senior man turned to Cassien. 'I need your weapons. You cannot meet with her majesty wearing that sword.'
He understood, could tell the man was baffled that he'd got this far into the palace wearing it. 'Perhaps you'd like my blades as well?' he offered, pulling back his cloak.
The soldier's eyes widened. 'I'll need all your weapons.'
Cassien obliged. He unbuckled the two belts and noted the amazement in the soldier's face as he accepted them. 'These will be returned to you after your audience with her majesty.'
'Fair enough.'
He felt curiously naked without them and for the first time realised how comfortable they had felt strapped to his body.
'Your weapons will be cared for.'
He hadn't realised his concerns were etched on his expression. He brightened. 'Of course. Shall we go?'
Cassien walked between his two minders down long draughty corridors, poorly lit, and assumed they must be approaching from the back of the palace. He had not taken too much notice of his path to the Orangerie and was now working hard to make sense of which direction they were travelling in; there were no clues but he was alert for a glimpse of sunlight that would prompt him. Soon the men had him climbing a narrow staircase. They passed a small arched window and he immediately took his bearings and knew that he was facing east. By the time they had escorted him down a few more passages - these more lavishly lit, and decorated with tapestries and pieces of furniture - he was sure, despite all the twists and turns, that he could pinpoint in which direction they moved. The larger spaces, no longer bare, had taken on a sense of life with their trimmings, and the lit sconces added a deeper elegance to the dark stone of the castle, which had looked so sombre from a distance.
As they travelled, Cassien began to see carvings in the stone and he recognised the great beasts of myth whose fabulous likenesses were sculpted in huge form within the cathedral of Pearlis. He was longing to see the famous nave; yearning to test again which beast was his. He was sure that this time Lupus would call, convinced that as a child his fanciful notion of the dragon was mere whimsy.
They walked along an arcade, the open corridor linking two parts of the palace like a bridge. Cassien glanced over the balustrade and saw an orchard below with ragged trees, still in their winter nakedness, awaiting blossomtide's warmth to coax them into a fresh burst of life. He was impressed that Stoneheart defied its name; he was discovering that there was much softness around this palace, the further he walked through it. The love of orchards and fragrant shrubs was evident from the multitude of winterblossom bushes he saw beneath him. Their blooms were finished but he was sure he could conjure the vaguest hint of their gorgeous scent still lingering on the waxy green leaves.
He continued walking between his minders, who suddenly came to an abrupt halt.
'Wait here, please,' the head soldier said.
His interest was diverted, riveted on the great arched doorway over which presided a magnificently rendered dragon. It curled, serpent-like, over the sweep of the arch, but its broad head faced outward in stark relief. Presumably it was meant to instil true fear in those who stood in this spot awaiting their sovereign's pleasure.
The dragon's eyes, though fashioned from dull stone, seemed to look straight into him. There was no escaping the gaze from the king of the