The Summer of Shambles Ondine book #1

Chapter 3

How they reached the Duke of Brugel's city domain that night isn't important, but what they said to him when they got there is, so we'll pick up the story from there. 16

"It's so big," Ondine said as they approached the gates of the Duke's domain.

Big didn't even come close. Humongous would be more apt. 17

Ondine let Josef do all the talking at the security gate, then a sentry walked them across the vast gravel expanse towards the side entry. The looming walls and dark shadows sucked all the warmth from the summer's evening. Ondine's breath came in short bursts and her feet ached. As they walked along the cavernous hallway, the echoes of their footsteps reverberated in her ears. No ordinary tiles on this floor. She marvelled at the intricate mosaic work and wondered how many years it had taken to make it. A cool chill settled in her neck, despite Shambles wrapping himself around her like a stole. For his part, Shambles remained as still as it was possible for a ferret to remain still, so the Duke wouldn't notice how alive he was.

They entered a large room and waited. The Duke cast an imposing figure as he arrived, dressed in a suit and tie, and took a seat at the other end of the room. Standing so far away from him, Ondine felt small and insignificant. The sentry put his hand out to let them know they were not allowed to step any closer. From such a distance, Ondine could see very little of the Duke, except his silvery white hair, which curled back in soft waves from a pronounced widow's peak. He had the classic Brugel split moustache, which is shaved at the philtrum, and a narrow goatee, which he stroked thoughtfully. 18

"My Lord Duke," Josef began with a steady and loud voice. He bowed his head and very nearly tugged at a forelock of hair while he was at it.

Ondine was impressed that her father knew the correct way to address a duke. But then Da loved his tradition, so perhaps it wasn't so surprising.

"We apologize for the late hour and the interruption to your family, but time is against us. My name is Josef de Groot and my family owns The Station Hotel. Our clientele is well behaved and law-abiding, but tonight my daughter, Ondine, overheard people in our public bar plotting to do harm to your person. We came as quickly as we could. To warn you."

"Really?" The Duke's voice carried across the room. It was hard to tell from the distance, but he didn't seem that interested. He stroked his goatee again. "And why should I take your word for it? How do I know you're not scamming for money? You could be part of the plot, looking to be paid off."

"Yes, Your Grace, all good points. Your criticism does you credit. Perhaps my daughter could explain," Josef said, giving Ondine a nudge of encouragement.

From behind her ear, she heard Shambles's reassuring whisper, "Tell him what I told you about the plot, that they plan tae do him in at the railway station tomorrow morning, at the opening of the new overpass."

So Ondine did, trying to make her voice loud enough to be heard, but not shouting, which would be rude.

Then Shambles gave Ondine a detailed description of the men's faces, and told her to tell that to the Duke as well.

"One of them was also missing the top half of his index finger," Ondine relayed with due diligence.

"Aye, probably picking his nose when someone punched him in the face," Shambles whispered.

That bit did not bear repeating. Ondine needed all her strength to bite her tongue and stop the bubbling laugh in her throat from escaping. It didn't take Psychic Summercamp lessons to know the Duke would not appreciate comedy at this point. Not when people wanted to kill him in the morning. With an audience and everything.