The Monk's Habit (The Disinherited Prince Series Book 2) Page 19

  Darrol stopped a local merchant and decided on an inn popular with visiting merchants. “If we stay where nobles might frequent, I’m afraid we won’t enjoy it as much. Merchants are more tolerant of fellow travelers,” Darrol said. “At least in my limited experience in staying at nice places.”

  That fit a definite pattern, Pol thought, so he didn’t object to Darrol’s decision, not that any of them would. The day was about to end, and everyone was tired, even Demeron complained about walking on the uneven cobbles of the city and looked forward to resting in a good stable.

  The four of them found the inn and soon sat at a table covered with an actual tablecloth. They wore their cleanest clothes. Pol looked around. There were enough other travelers dressed in a similar fashion, now that they had left their weapons in their rooms.

  “Traveled far?” the young serving maid said. She gave all of them ale except for the fruit juice she gave Pol. She held the tray to her and gave them a warm smile.

  “Deftnis,” Paki said.

  Her demeanor cooled. “Please don’t say that again in Senaton. The Duke of Lawster is not a friend of Deftnis. There were some, uh, disagreements with the Emperor two years ago. His chamberlain did not survive. I don’t know any of the details, but please keep your travel plans to yourselves.” She curtseyed and hurried away.

  “What do you think?” Paki said. “I thought we were out of danger, and now we’re spending the night in hostile territory.”

  Darrol grunted after he took a sip of ale. “It’s not hostile at this point. Let’s enjoy a good night’s rest and be on our way tomorrow.” He glared at Paki. “That will happen as long as our lips are sealed.” Darrol ran his finger along his mouth.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Paki said, but he looked guilty.

  “No, you just announced to the whole room where we were from,” Kell said. “As for me, I’m going to enjoy a good meal and a soft bed.”

  Pol just kept quiet. He had assumed that Deftnis was universally respected as a place of learning, but now he knew it was tightly associated with the Emperor. Val and Malden were from Deftnis. Could Ranno have been trained there, too? He wanted to ask Darrol, but knew he shouldn’t mention it in the dining room.

  “This is the best food we’ve had, so far,” Kell said. He called the serving maid over to ask for another plate. “It’s okay, Darrol?”

  Darrol waved his hand. “Enjoy yourself.”

  A squad of six guards and an officer entered the dining room.

  “Who owns the big black horse that came in this afternoon?” the officer asked.

  Pol stood. “That’s probably Demeron. He’s mine.”

  “Shinkyan horses are forbidden by treaty. The Duke hereby confiscates him.”

  “You can’t do that,” Pol said.

  “Take it up with the Duke tomorrow, if he will permit an audience.”

  Pol clenched his fists. His arms and the arms of his friends were up in their rooms. Darrol clasped his wrist.

  “Not now,” Darrol said quietly.

  Pol shook off his hand and followed the guards out the door to the stable.

  Two guards stood outside the stall by two others, nursing wounds on the ground.

  “Easy, Demeron,” Pol said. “I’ll be visiting the Duke of Lawster tomorrow morning to retrieve you. Don’t make a pest of yourself or they will hurt you, and I don’t want to see you hurt.

  Neither do I. If you know of this abduction, I will go with enough spirit to let them know I am not theirs.

  “Keep calm as much as possible. Do it for me?”

  Demeron shook his head. I will.

  “It’s like he understood you,” the officer said.

  Pol nodded. “He’s smarter than most people. Treat him decently and he won’t resist you. He does like to eat grain. A lot of grain.”

  “The Duke wouldn’t think of mistreating a treasure like him.”

  Treasure? Pol thought. That would make it harder for them to convince the Duke to let Demeron go.

  Pol watched Demeron pull the two guards leading him this way and that, but didn’t attack the guards as he could have done. He said farewell to Demeron in his mind and his horse reminded him to come quickly tomorrow morning.

  He returned to their table.

  “That was quick,” Darrol said. “Someone high up must have spotted Demeron while we rode through the city and told the Duke.”

  “Confiscate? More like steal,” Paki said.

  “Watch your tongue,” Darrol said. “We aren’t necessarily among friends in Senaton.”

  “I have my proof of ownership.”

  “And who signed it, Pol?” Kell said between bites.

  “You know who. Oh. That might not be enough.”

  “We’ll see tomorrow morning,” Darrol said.

  The serving maid came to take the plates from the table. “I’m sorry.”

  “Does the Duke take what he wants from travelers?” Pol asked.

  “It’s been known to happen. His chamberlain was worse, but…” She just shook her head and left them.

  “So is this a Seeker opportunity?” Paki said.

  Pol nodded. “It will be, but I don’t know where we will get good enough information to build a working pattern.” Pol looked at the serving maid serving tables and picking up dishes. “I’m going to talk to her.”

  He rose from the table and followed the serving maid into the kitchen.

  “We are travelers who don’t know Lawster very well.”

  “I know where you are from.” Her voice lowered. “Are you magicians?”

  Pol noticed the looks from the kitchen staff. He realized that the girl wasn’t much older than he was. “We are not without talent. Do you know of anyone we could ask how best to approach your Duke?”

  “Who are you?” the innkeeper walked up to Pol. “We are not a brothel, so leave my daughter alone.”

  The serving maid looked up at the innkeeper. “There is nothing untoward going on. These travelers are from the South, and the Duke has taken their finest horse.”

  The innkeeper sighed. “I thought that kind of thing was stopped.” He looked exasperated. Pol took that as a positive sign. “Sanctioned thievery, if you ask me.”

  “Sir, I came back here to see if your daughter knew anyone who could give us information about how best to approach your Duke, so I can retrieve my horse. He’s rather special to me.”

  “I’ve seen two Shinkyan horses before, both mares. That horse of yours is huge. Do you realize how valuable he is?”

  Pol shook his head. “He was a gift.” In a matter of speaking, Pol thought.

  “Do you have any papers for him?”

  Pol nodded. “I do.” He took a deep breath. “Signed by the Emperor.”

  “The Emperor of Baccusol?” The innkeeper’s eyes widened.

  “I can show the title to you, if you wish.”

  The man nodded. “Come down to my office just off the lobby in two hours. Now let my daughter get back to work.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ~

  DARROL AND POL KNOCKED ON THE DOORFRAME. The innkeeper counted money in his office.

  “You do that out in the open?”

  The innkeeper shrugged and pulled up a small hand crossbow from behind the desk. “I do. Senaton is generally a peaceful city. Sit down and give me a moment.”

  There were three chairs arranged in front of the innkeeper’s desk.

  Darrol and Pol looked at each other and sat down. The innkeeper had a stack of envelopes on his desk and slid counted money into them. He slipped the last of the coins into one and scribbled on the outside. After ringing a bell at his desk, he clasped his hands and laid them on the desk.

  “Tell me your story,” He said. “First of all, my name is Okren Moss. You can call me Oak.”

  “I’m Pol Cissert, and this is Darrol Netherfield.”

  Pol heard steps enter the room and the door close. “And I am Deena Moss. Father
agreed to let me listen in.” The serving maid walked into view and sat in the third chair on Darrol’s side. Pol noticed that she was actually pretty with her dark hair down, but why did she join them?

  Pol took a deep breath to ignore the distraction of the girl. Darrol and he had decided that Pol would do the talking.

  “We are on a mission for the Abbot of Deftnis. Darrol is a monk, and the others are acolytes.”

  “It hardly seems appropriate for your Abbot to send boys on a mission.”

  Pol pressed his lips together. “Well, it’s my own personal quest. I am searching for a former healer that left the monastery. He, alone, can heal a malady that I have had from birth. The monk lives in the Wild Spines. We believe he is in Lawster or the Duchy of Hardman.”

  Oak rubbed his lips together. “What did he do develop an addiction to minweed? That’s the only draw that I know of in the northern side of the Spines. The cursed plant only grows well where you seek him.”

  “He is taken by a minweed habit,” Pol said. “You know your land well.”

  “Minweed is a scourge. You’ll find out when you meet your monk. He won’t be worth much. But what is this with your horse?”

  Pol nodded and pulled out the Emperor’s ownership certificate. He gave it to Oak, who examined it.

  “You are known to the Emperor?”

  Pol nodded again. “I am. He seems to have taken a liking to me.”

  “What is so special about you?”

  “I’m a disinherited prince. It happened late last summer, and to a very minor extent, I have been offered his protection. I don’t want my horse confiscated. He is special—”

  “As is any Shinkyan. They are magnificent animals. I wish I would have walked out and taken a look at him.”

  “”What we need is information that can help me get him back. Will my certificate be enough? Is the Duke honorable enough to accept this?”

  Oak shook his head. “There isn’t much love between our beloved Emperor and our beloved Duke. My daughter told you about his Chamberlain’s death?”

  “She did. What happened?”

  “Theon had an unsavory habit of sending the guard out to raid wealthy merchants as they left the city. Merchants complained, but the Duke silenced their threats. I have many customers who live outside Lawster, and they complained to the Emperor.”

  “Oh. Ranno Wissingbel took care of the complaints?” Pol said.

  “You know him, too?” Oak looked impressed.

  Pol nodded. “His daughter was my tutor for nearly five years in North Salvan.”

  “You know the new King of Listya then?”

  “He is my stepbrother.”

  Oak sat back. “You do get around. Well, don’t advertise any of that in this city.”

  “I won’t,” Pol said. “But I want Demeron back.”

  “Be at the palace gate by dawn and be prepared to wait. I will help you draw up a petition. You will need to produce the owner’s certificate. Does the horse obey your instructions?”

  That brought a grin to Pol’s face. “He’s a very, very, smart horse, and you might say we have bonded well.”

  “You may be called upon to demonstrate. I’m not saying you will succeed, but that is what you should do.” Oak scribbled on two documents and handed them to Pol. “It will be hard for the Duke to ignore an Imperial title.”

  “This is your petition, and this is a note to Bester. He’s likely to be your gatekeeper. It’s from me to him recommending you. Don’t show this to anyone else.”

  “What about my friends?”

  “I suggest that they leave the city. The Duke can be unpredictable. The chamberlain didn’t act alone, if you understand.”

  Darrol nodded. “I do. Is there a road south into the Spines?”

  Oak pulled out another paper and sketched a crude map twice, and then ripped the paper in two. “Here you go.” He gave one to Darrol and another to Pol.

  “You are taking a risk. I can procure a serviceable horse, if you wish to just leave Senaton.”

  Pol shook his head. “I’ll go by myself. Demeron and I can make it out together, and my friends will be close enough if the Duke sends men to hunt me down.”

  “Very well. I have another question to ask. Are you a magician?”

  Pol said. “I am one of sorts. I can’t blow down Senaton’s walls, but I’m not without resources.”

  Oak stood up. “There is a price.”

  Pol shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He expected there would be a cost for the information.

  “My daughter has magical talent and a good mind. She’s wasted waiting on tables in my inn, and although her mother and I would like her to stay by our sides, I’d like her trained in the best possible place.”

  Deena flashed them a smile. “I would, if you could help me.”

  “I’ll write to Ranno Wissingbel,” Pol said, thinking of the Emperor’s magical school for women. “Can I borrow some paper and ink? Will that be sufficient? I can’t promise you more. You can send it to Yastan from here.”

  ~

  Pol rubbed damp palms on the legs of his trousers as he waited and waited. It had already been nearly three hours, but he didn’t wait alone in the long hall. People lined both sides, both sitting and standing. Bester had helped him, just as Oak had promised.

  He thought of the men he had killed on his mission. Unfortunately, the deaths meant less to him as they traveled. He regretted killing the bandit with a hammer. That was foul play, in his mind, and the deed still bothered him. The others had attacked Pol and his group and those were more easily dismissed, but Pol had fought for his life then.

  The line between killing casually and killing to defend oneself was blurring, and Pol had to accept that it was.

  “Pol Cissert!”

  He stood at the sound of his name and followed a fancily-dressed guard into a small ornate throne room. The Duke of Lawster sat on a large gilded chair. The man was surprisingly small, almost waif-like to Pol’s perception. He might even be just Pol’s height. His graying hair took away any impression of youth.

  The Duke waved Pol’s petition in his hand. “This claims you are the rightful owner of a Shinkyan stallion. The Emperor has outlawed their possession in the Empire through treaty, and yet you show up with one. You’re just a boy.”

  “I have an ownership certificate from the Emperor. You will note that I have received an imperial dispensation to own my horse.”

  Pol handed the certificate over.

  The Duke read the document and gnashed his teeth. “I am stunned that Hazett would entrust such a marvelous beast to a peasant such as you.”

  “Less than a year ago, I was a prince, but I lost my inheritance. As compensation, perhaps, the Emperor provided me with Demeron, my Shinkyan stallion.”

  “What proof do you have that you are the same Pol Cissert that owns the beast?”

  “Demeron does tricks at my command. He won’t do the same, even with your Master of Horse.” If the Duke even retained one, Pol thought.

  “Very well.” The Duke rose from his throne. “We will put your lies to the test right now. If you lie, you will spend a few years in a Senaton cell.”

  They walked out through a few grand corridors that would put Borstall Castle to shame and descended steps to a large practice yard. Pol noticed a barracks and an armory of a more modest size than his old home. He could see the stable down a lane between the two buildings.

  Two guards ran into the stables, and four men held ropes attached to Demeron’s bridle. Demeron shook his massive head, making it difficult for the handlers to control him.

  Pol raised his hand. “I have come for you. Calm yourself.”

  Only for you. The beasts in the stable walk on two legs. They didn’t even remove your saddle.

  Demeron’s balkiness instantly ceased as he nearly dragged the men towards Pol. The horse bowed his head and nuzzled his dripping chin on Pol’s hair.

  “Stop that,” Pol said. He could resist s
miling, while he tried to wipe the slobber off his hair.

  I want to show you my undying affection.

  I’ll agree with the undying part, Pol said in his mind, and then he turned to the Duke. “What would you like to see Demeron do?”

  “Can you make him count?” the Duke said.

  “Demeron, how many guards are standing in the shade of this practice field?

  The oldest of the handlers sputtered. “A horse can’t actually count like that.”

  “Is this your Master of Horse?”

  “He is,” the Duke said.

  Pol turned to the older man. “Do you want to try?”

  The man shook his head and muttered, “Impossible.”

  “Demeron?”

  The horse looked towards the shady side of the field and then turned to Pol. He clapped his hoof on the dirt fourteen times.

  “I think he is right!” the Master of Horse said.

  “Bow to the Master,” Pol said.

  Demeron bowed.

  “I am the master around here,” the Duke said.

  The horse just turned his head and stared at the Duke, who shook his head and addressed the Master of Horse. “Is there any possibility that I can learn to do what this boy did?”

  Pol noticed the derisiveness in the Duke’s pronunciation of ‘boy’.

  “I don’t think so, My Duke.”

  The Duke let the Imperial certificate drift to the ground. “Pick it up and take the horse, but leave my city immediately.”

  Pol didn’t see the man’s expression soften. Once Pol left the city, guardsmen would certainly follow.

  “I will. The Emperor will be pleased that you honored his wishes,” Pol said, as he spelled the paper into his hands.

  “You, a magician?”

  “I know a few tricks, for a boy,” Pol said. He mounted Demeron and bowed with a flourish to the Duke. “I thank you for your time. I will get my things and take leave of your fine city.”

  Pol didn’t waste any time leaving the practice field for the palace courtyard. Demeron moved as quickly as he could through the morning crowds, and the pair of them finally made it through the gates and back onto the Great West Road.