‘Well, we must pray our secret is safe, Gossy.’ The prince rose. ‘I must go to Duke Tanaby now. I’ll take Snudge with me. You retire to your place above and bespeak Kilian. If you are able, also do a search from time to time to determine whether Beynor or any other magicker save Ullanoth is overseeing us.’
Stergos sighed. ‘I’ll do my very best, but you’d better have the boy search, too. He’s so much better at it than I.’ He went out into the central room of the library, where the gaming was noiser than ever, nearly drowning out the two armigers singing ‘Strawberry Lips’.
So now there are three who know I have the talent, Conrig thought, staring at the flame of the clock-candle. I suppose I’m safe enough for now. All of them have strong reasons to keep the secret. But the possibility of eventual betrayal remains.
Which one, I wonder, is most likely to give me away — my beloved brother, the conniving Mosslander princess, or the stable boy who owes his life to me?
Snudge had anticipated the prince’s command to search for other windwatchers. Sent down from the accounts room by Stergos, he reassured Conrig that he had detected no magical surveillance of the castle. The dead body was also undisturbed.
‘But I didn’t mean to kill him, Your Grace. The fellow gave me no choice. He—’
‘Your rash action could have very grave consequences,’ the prince said sternly, cutting off the boy’s excuses. ‘I’m afraid you can no longer serve as my fourth footman.’
‘Oh,’ said Snudge. His face had gone dull. ‘Am I to be sent back to the stables, then?’
Conrig’s eyes were twinkling. ‘On the contrary. You are to be made an armiger. Since you’ve proved yourself my loyal man in armed combat, shedding enemy blood on my behalf, I have no other choice. It’ll mean a great deal of tedious practice with weaponry, and learning music and other gentle arts you might think are a waste of time, but that’s the way it goes if you want your knight’s belt at twenty. You’ll also have to think up a suitable blazon for yourself. Perhaps an howlet or a bat or some other furtive creature. A rat wouldn’t be quite the thing.’
Snudge’s features were transfigured by joy. ‘Your Grace, how can I thank you—’
‘Enough. We’ll talk about it later and think up a plausible reason for you to’ve stopped the Mossy bastard’s heart. But follow me now. There’s still work to do tonight.’
The two of them set out openly for the duke’s private apartments adjacent to the south-east tower, there being no longer any reason to keep the prince’s presence in the castle a secret.
‘You look a bit grubby,’ Conrig remarked, as they hurried through the echoing corridors. Most of the castle had already retired. ‘And why aren’t you wearing your livery jerkin?’
Snudge explained about ripping out the coat’s lining and worming through the dusty tunnel. ‘I didn’t think you’d want me looking like a tatterdemalion when we visited the duke, so I put on my second-best.’
‘And how did you know we’d visit the duke?’ asked the prince sharply. ‘Were you eavesdropping on Stergos and me?’
The boy managed an apologetic grin. ‘Only to be sure the Doctor Arcanorum gave you a complete account of my adventure.’
‘Rascal!’ But the prince was smiling, too. ‘And did he leave anything out?’
‘Only this,’ Snudge said, pulling the sigil out of his belt-wallet. The translucent stone caught the torchlight glow, but there was no sign of the uncanny internal luminescence. ‘I didn’t tell my lord Stergos that the sorcerer used this amulet to make himself completely invisible — and imperceptible to arcane viewers, including me. I located him by following the thread of his windwatching. This thing enabled him to watch even though he was hidden. With it, he could perform more than one magical action at a time.’
‘What the devil is it?’ They stopped and the prince examined the moonstone closely.
‘A rare kind of magical tool. I read about them in a book that I … borrowed from the Alchymical Library back at Cala Palace.’ He replaced the sigil in his wallet.
‘Stole, more likely,’ the prince growled. ‘Why didn’t you hand the thing over to Stergos? I should think he’d want to study it.’
‘I believe he would have destroyed it, rather than try to find out how it worked. It’s a thing empowered by the Beaconfolk, called a sigil.’
‘Bazekoy’s Ballocks! You young lunatic — throw it down a jakes-hole before it does us a mischief!’
‘It’s dead, Your grace,’ Snudge reassured him. ‘At least for the moment. While it functioned, it shone with a weird light, which vanished when the spy who owned it died. When we return to Cala Palace to prepare for the invasion, I’ll search through more of Vra-Kilian’s books. Perhaps I’ll discover the sigil’s secret.’
‘It takes power from the Beaconfolk! You don’t dare use it. You must get rid of it!’
‘But think of the opportunity that may then be lost to us.’ The young voice was cool and persuasive, for all that Snudge’s eyes were dark-rimmed and his face sallow and oddly blotched, as though with some illness. ‘The Lady Ullanoth doesn’t hesitate to command the Coldlight Army, knowing the danger. I swear to you that I’ll only study the thing, not attempt to use it. But if you insist that I throw it away, of course I’ll obey.’
‘Well …’
‘One day we may need the sigil. Trust me.’ ‘Trust! That’s what she always says!’
‘But I have only our best interests at heart, Your Grace, while the Lady of Moss …’ He trailed off.
‘Out of the lips of babes,’ the prince muttered. ‘Very well. Keep the cursèd thing. But you’ll have to risk pilfering Vra-Kilian’s magic books yourself. No way dare I command my basilisk uncle to lend them out, even to me.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’
‘And keep your mouth shut when we’re in Vanguard’s chambers unless I invite you to speak.’ ‘Yes, Your Grace.’
They continued on to the ducal apartments. Two guards were posted outside, who saluted as the prince and the boy approached.
Conrig said, ‘Tell my lord duke I would speak with him.’
‘At once, Your Grace.’ One of the guards went inside and returned almost immediately. ‘Please enter.’
Tanaby Vanguard wasn’t alone in the sitting room. Earl Marshal Parlian Beorbrook sat drinking with his old friend at the fire. An unrolled parchment map of the Dextral Mountains lay on a low table between them, held open by a decanter of ardent spirits, a silver bootjack, a heavy jeweled dagger, and a candlestick.
‘Welcome, Your Grace,’ Beorbrook said, with a certain ironic attitude. ‘We were just about to invite you to join us.’
‘To query me about Lady Ullanoth,’ the prince said equably.
Beorbrook glanced at Snudge. ‘Perhaps the lad should wait outside.’
‘Deveron is my man, and he stays.’
The earl marshal hoisted his black brows. ‘Does he indeed!’
Snudge