Here you'll find

 

Ravens, Owls and a nightingale

 

 

 

 

 

8. Plans & Ploys

Karos did his best not to grimace as the Wizard dabbed his aching cheek with a moistened rag.

"You have a nasty bruise there," the older man said through clenched teeth. "Curse upon those mercenaries — to treat so brutally a harmless idiot! What did you say it was, a gauntlet? And studded too..."

"Was the only way," Karos muttered, tongue poking the swollen inside of his mouth. "I had to get past them, and those two guys would've let me pass all right, if it hadn't been for their captain..."

"You couldn't be sure that they wouldn't catch you and beat you up," the Wizard chided and frowned in disapproval at the ugly, ragged hole on Karos' face. "They might even have forced you to stay on as their servant, or something. Or simply gutted you on the spot, for the fun of it."

"Bah, I'm too big and probably eat too much to be kept as a soldiers' servant boy," Karos said. "Besides, I didn't exactly walk into the camp!"

"Still. You took a tremendous risk," the Wizard said and began to rub a salve with some finely ground herbs into the wound. "You might've never come back from your little expedition."

"But I did, Rhamirr, and that's all that matters!" Karos retorted. "I'm not going to die of this! Besides, it was worth the risk."

The Wizard sighed but refrained from commenting, concentrating instead on the wound. "There, now, that's better. Shouldn't hurt so much, either, after a while."

"At least we know now that there's definitely something going on in Moydherr," Karos grunted. He picked up one of the pastries that his mother had brought the previous night and began to nibble on the soft crust. "We have to warn the Lord."

"How do you propose to do that?" the Wizard asked, collecting his things back into a small box. "I can of course go to talk to him, but even if I tell him exactly what you've seen and heard, I doubt Lord Rhodan will take it seriously enough. He doesn't hold Lord Theren in particularly high esteem, as I'm sure you know."

"I know." Karos suckled unhappily on the pastry, mindful of his aching face. "But you must try! Tell him what we have found out, and urge him to take action!"

"Then he'll ask how I know all that, and what shall I say to that? Your father is no superstitious fool. He knows I can't fly around in the guise of an owl, or see things that are happening dozens of leagues away. No, he'll want proof." The Wizard snorted and shook his head. "On the other hand, if I say that my Ashgan has been spying, well, that'll make him even more suspicious — of our motives!"

"But I can't prove anything, either!" Karos argued. "I can only tell what I've seen and heard, that's all, and it's up to him to believe it. And I honestly hope he would believe, because if he doesn't, then there'll be hell to pay."

The Wizard was tugging his beard, a thoughtful look on his lined face. "What about revealing the Lady's plot to him? Shouldn't he believe it at least enough to find out what she's doing?"

"Hmph. I'm not sure about that," Karos admitted reluctantly. "She is his wife, after all."

"Oh, but what would that matter to him? They are married to each other, and that's all there is to it! He knows she despises him, and he's totally indifferent to her."

"Rhamirr, stop being sentimental!" Karos said. "Feelings have nothing to do with it. He'll think it all too ludicrous. Lady Berissa is the Lady of Deleon, the mightiest castle within a few hundred leagues — what more could she possibly want?"

"That's what I can't understand, either," the Wizard said and sat down. "As if Deleon wasn't big and splendid enough for her? Or, if she wanted to make the place look more like the Eastern castles, why hasn't she brought riches and luxuries from there and made a show of it? Why does she keep it all to herself?"

"I think she just doesn't want to give father anything more than she absolutely has to," Karos said slowly. "And maybe it's not altogether wrong to be sentimental about some things... I haven't seen Lord Theren of Moydherr, but from what I've heard of him, I think he'd be much more to her tastes."

"Ahh yes... hasn't he lived around ten years in the east? And all the traveling minstrels tell how extraordinary a place Moydherr is, this far in the west and yet striving to the same splendor as the old places of the East..." The Wizard smiled ruefully. "So you think that these two eastern beauties might have something going on?"

"Well, the Lady's servants never speak anything," Karos said, who got loads of information through an intricate network that began with the numerous, basically innocent but gossipy servants and ended with his mother, who heard everything and relayed the tidbits to her son. "But from what I've pieced together, it sounds like they get along awfully well..."

"Do you think that you father could be enraged enough if I suggested that Lady Berissa might have an adulterous relationship with her brother-in-law?"

Karos shook his head. "I don't know... He might not care enough, or then he might confront her directly and want an explanation. Either way, that would still leave Bengor in danger."

The Wizard heaved a long sigh. "I'm afraid you just might be right," he said heavily. "After all, who better than you could anticipate how Lord Rhodan thinks? You're so much like him, my boy..."

Karos rolled his eyes and huffed. "I've just been doing my best to know everything that happens within this castle! And as I recall, you've thought it a supremely good idea, Rhamirr... But we still haven't decided what we'll do."

"Oh, if only we could somehow smoke the vixen out of her lair for long enough to inspect the room!" The Wizard steepled his fingers.

"Are you sure you couldn't manage to talk father into doing that?" Karos asked in desperation. "I mean, to throw her and that old stork of hers behind lock and key, at least for a while?"

"You're getting bold, Karos!" The Wizard's eyebrows arched.

"Looks like I have to." Karos rose from the bench and squared his shoulders. "All right. Give me until tomorrow morning, and if I haven't managed to find a way to get into that room by then, I agree to come and talk to father with you."

"Don't do anything foolhardy," the Wizard said tensely, and Karos shrugged.

"Oh, I'm not sure whether it's more foolhardy of me to try and break into the Lady's chamber or to reveal myself to Lord Rhodan if I fail," he said. "I'll be seeing you, Rhamirr. Thank you for treating this cheek, it feels much better already."

He was out of the door before the Wizard could say anything. The older man stared at the door for a while, then spread his arms in helpless surrender and shook his head. Well, at least the madcap boy had had something for breakfast...

By late evening on the same day, Karos was just about ready to give in. He had spent an exhausting and nerve-racking but fruitless day skulking around the Lady's chamber, mostly outside. A couple of times he'd ventured indoors, only to beat a hasty retreat to avoid the servants. Lady Berissa preferred to be left in peace and therefore had her rooms in a more quiet part of the castle, but that was not to say there wouldn't be servants coming and going, looking after her comfort and fulfilling her commands. The Lady had been out for her customary leisurely walk on the walls, but to Karos' disappointment it had been a young servant girl, and not the lady-in-waiting, who had accompanied her. The older woman had resolutely stayed in the room while her mistress was away, and thus even that tiny hope was crushed. The room never seemed to be empty.

Well, there was still the possibility of trying to see in through the windows, Karos thought. Dangerous, yes, but that was his only hope. The room wasn't too high up, he'd have a pretty easy task climbing to it and then somehow gluing himself to the wall to peer in. The Wizard would've told him that he was crazy, that much Karos knew; but then, he'd heard it before. And if he managed to find out something, then it would be easy to convince Rhamirr that it had been worth it. All he needed to do now was to get to the correct spot, reach the windows, and then stay put without anyone noticing him. A simple and straightforward plan, that. It was perfectly doable, too, since the weather was murky and cloudy and nobody was likely to be gazing up at the skies in the sporadic rain that kept pelting down and straight into your eyes unless they were resolutely downcast.

The glitch in the plan was the problem of reaching the right spot. Karos sighed inaudibly, resisted the almost compelling urge to stretch his legs, and decided that he'd seldom, if ever, felt as uncomfortable as he did at the moment. His cloak was soaked, his fingers were numbingly cold, and his muscles were cramping painfully. Rainwater had done little to quench his thirst, so that his tongue kept sticking to the roof of his mouth. Not to mention that he was rather dangerously perched on a narrow stripe of stone that protruded above a dizzying fall to some pointy rocks straight underneath. Well, the physical discomfort he could somehow ignore, out of long practice, but at the moment he had the distasteful feeling that he was about to be delayed by something that bore no relevance to his self-chosen task for the day.

Precariously balanced in his hiding place, Karos concentrated on breathing as quietly as he could, while on the other side of the stone wall, well within his hearing, one of the mercenaries employed by the Lord was making amorous advances to one of the serving girls. By the voices, Karos was rather sure that he knew who the girl was: the chestnut-braided one with voluptuous hips and bosom and an amazingly narrow waist that she took care to display to all and sundry. The man didn't sound very drunk, and the girl obviously didn't mind being the target of his attentions. And goddamnit, they had chosen exactly the spot where a narrow strip of wooden roof had been constructed on top of the outer wall... surely they weren't going to start making out right there? On the other hand, why not, seeing as this was one of those sections of the wall top where the guards did not make regular rounds?

They were kissing. Great. Karos flexed his aching fingers and tried to force his body into complete stillness, turn into granite himself. The sounds of kissing, quiet humming and whispers went on for what seemed an eternity. The girl giggled and slapped — playfully, no doubt — at a hand that was probably trying to sneak underneath her clothing.

"You're cold!" Her voice was high-pitched with enthusiasm, and the man laughed.

"You're hot," he countered... Ah, it was the goateed one with a distinct lisp, from the troops of Lord Rhodan's latest acquisition, a big buff bull of a captain, with equally beefy soldiers. Karos wanted to snort but kept his silence. He closed his eyes and thought about pretty things, comfortable things, warm things. Fire. Bed. The Wizard's chamber. His mother, baking bread in the kitchen. His little brother's smile. Sun blazing down. Warm summer winds... and warm summer rain. Karos grimaced when a little rivulet of water ran down along his nape and soaked into his already wet collar.

Then he wanted to cheer. Heavy steps were approaching, and the two lovebirds fell silent. He heard a couple of whispers, quick shuffling steps, and then — nothing. Blessed guard... probably he had been feeling stiff after standing in one place for a few hours and had climbed up to the walls to warm up, to spend a moment inside the staircase that was protected from wind and rain. Blessed him, whatever the reason.

Karos waited until the footfall vanished once more, then straightened himself painfully and peered to the narrow walk on top of the wall. There was nobody in sight. With infinite care he inched his way back to more secure footing and continued on his way.

A sleepy glance at the small window told the Wizard that morning was still several hours away when he woke up with a start. He could faintly see a huge dark lump just inside the door, and pushed himself up on an elbow.

"Karos?"

"Who else?"

The smell of wet wool wafted towards the man. He got up and went closer, then shook his head as he heard the uneven breathing. "You're freezing... here, give me those clothes. You should've gone to the bathhouse, I'm sure the would still be enough warm water for you."

"I'm all right."

"Like hell you are. Your teeth are chattering... ugh, this is wet!"

"No, really?"

The Wizard ignored the sarcasm and went to spread the cloak on the bench to dry. Beside him, Karos stripped himself naked and placed the rest of his garments close to the still glowing fireplace to dry. The wet smell inside the room got thicker.

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten anything?"

"I'll survive till morning," Karos grunted, but the older man was already fumbling for the basket.

"Here, take some. Your mother was here today, I told her you're back. She was worried for you, you know. Haven't you even been to see her?"

"I couldn't. Too busy."

"You're always too busy," the Wizard said. "Take that basket with you and come to bed. You need to warm up."

For once, Karos did as he was told, and crawled under the covers. The Wizard followed him and listened to the quiet munching, smiling to himself. Karos certainly didn't live to each, rather the other way round, but he was an active young man who had only recently reached his full height and was still filling up. It was a good thing that Deleon Castle was wealthy. In many other places, the two inhabitants of Ghost Tower might well have been forced to subsist on meager leftovers, seeing as they didn't directly contribute to bearing their own share of all the work that needed to be done. But here the chatelaine took good care to provide them enough food to support two grown men, and she would've done it even if one of said men weren't her own son.

Rhamirr could well remember Merania the way she had been when they had both been younger. He was eight years her senior, but he remembered the strong, round-faced young maid who had always been taller than others of her age, and extremely hard-working. She had grown into a fine-looking woman, with ample curves that sent hordes of young men drooling — and strong hands that could give the drooling young men a painful slap if they tried anything stupid. He had always admired her from a distance, but that was that. A Wizard's apprentice didn't fool around with girls, and Rhamirr had been a dutiful Ashgan. Besides, there had been young Rhodan-Omeasch-nea, the old Lord's eldest son...

The Wizard couldn't help thinking how much better it would have been, if only Lord Rhodan had married the young woman with whom he had been so completely smitten back then. But no, the old Lord had pounded it into his son's head that a well-born heiress, the richer the better, was what he should be looking for. Of course Lord Rhodan had done exactly that, and in due time married Lady Berissa whose pedigree was long and illustrious, and whose dowry had been transported in a train of fully loaded carts and carriages. And yet, what good had she brought to Deleon, apart from wealth with which the Lord had then been able to hire more men and thus expand his territory into unforeseen proportions?

But if Lord Rhodan had married Merania, didn't that mean that the young man, who was right now settling down to sleep next to Rhamirr, would be the Ranea, instead of the ailing boy in the other tower? The Wizard sighed a little and smothered an even broader smile. Somehow he really couldn't imagine that... or, if he really tried, he could in fact picture it. He could also picture something else: the tremendous, and no doubt frequent, quarrels that the strong-willed and authoritative Lord Rhodan would have with his equally headstrong and independent eldest son. That wasn't an attractive thought, but it sure would have been inevitable.

"Are you still feeling cold?" The Wizard asked in a low voice.

"Much better already," Karos mumbled. "I'm going to be all right, don't you worry."

"I hope you haven't done anything crazy... did you find out anything?"

"I'm pretty sure that I know where she keeps her most secret things," Karos said and yawned. "But no luck in getting in... there's always at least a maid in there."

"So we'll go to talk you your father tomorrow, you and me?"

"As promised. We can't wait any more."

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