Peacefall: Book Two of The Fourpointe Chronicles

Chapter 16

". . . and here is the manifest." Artus laid the leather-bound book before Dawkin. "The Head Magistrate delivered it this morning. I have yet to review the log for the contents reported as missing, though he did mention a few of the stolen items. Hardwood from the Eastern Woodlands. A bundle of feathers. Crystal orbs."

"Crystal?"

"Aye."

"Half the shipment had been arranged for our mages, who use them for storing certain potions or fashion them for their devices, telescopes and the sort. The Cutters Guild bought the other half, its contents earmarked for the lapidaries of Arcporte. Their orders will be delayed due to the loss of their wares."

"Of course," Dawkin replied. Fewer crystal goblets and vases for our precious nobility. "Is that all of it?"

"There is one other small . . . matter."

Dawkin tapped his fingers on the table with one hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his other. He had wondered how soon it would take his grandfather to arrive at the dreaded topic.

"Go on."

"The Voiceless, having monitored your quest through the countryside – and thank you for adherence to your royal duties, by the way – well, they brought to my attention the company you kept during a portion of your trip."

"Grandfather, I am not a member of court." Dawkin dropped his feet from the edge of the table. He shifted in his seat, planting his feet on the floor and his palms before him. "Speak your truth."

"Very well, Dawkin." Artus leaned forward, the lightness of his demeanor having vanished. What replaced it appeared akin to a wolf staring down its prey. "Your association with a sibyl is a threat to the Throne."

"She is a descendent from the Boreal Islanders. Her association with witchcraft ends there."

"How can you be so sure? You hardly know the girl."

"I came to know her . . . Well enough."

"Dawkin?!"

"Not in that way. Merely as a fellow traveler. We rode together, conversed, shared meals, even a skin of wine."

"Oh, why that changes everything."

"Poke fun all you like."

"If someone of repute saw you together –"

"So what if they did? I acted in disguise. She doesn't even know who I am. The real me." Dawkin slumped in his chair. "No one does."

Artus leaned back from the table, though he kept his back straight. "Just be mindful."

"I always am."

Artus rose. He opened the door to the Fourpointe Chamber, finding the two Voiceless outside where he had left them. He nodded, prompting the knights to move down the hall out of Dawkin's view.

"Will you be joining us?" Artus asked.

Dawkin fought a sigh. "Aye." He grabbed the helm from the table, fitting it atop his head. From crown to toe, he donned the full plate and armor of a Voiceless, serving as a proxy to Artus' Right Captain as he had none.

They ascended from Terran in silence, accompanied by the pair of Voiceless. Rising to the floor level, a subdued version of castle life awaited them. Servants strode with a blend of haste and worry, treading carefully to ensure their soles made nary a din. The yard – usually ringing with the clack of metal and the grunts of soldiers – lay bare and quiet. Even the stables they passed offered little in the way of liveliness, as the steeds looked on at their passersby.