Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [27]
“How should we secure these openings in the meantime?”
“We did it several ways before. If you take rubble from the cell walls, for instance—any that don’t reach the ceiling can’t be bearing walls—and pile it in that passage, then have a mason block the hole itself, it’ll be effective. Other than that, we can mortar some rocks in there, but someone could break through in time.”
“We need something for tonight,” Dorrin said.
“Oh. In that case, close up the holes and—”
They heard noises coming from the third exit and Dorrin quickly drew her sword, but the dust-streaked men who came out wore palace livery, including an officer of the Royal Guard. “This passage comes out in the saddler’s room in the old stables,” he said. “It’s illegal to build or maintain secret ways into the palace grounds. Who’s in charge here?”
“I am,” Dorrin said. “Duke Verrakai.”
He blinked at her, apparently not recognizing the Duke he’d seen in formal court clothes in the mercenary captain’s garb.
“And I,” the Marshal-General said, “am Marshal-General Arianya. We just found this passage and sent your patrol back to you, suspecting where it might lead.”
“How long have you been in this house?” the officer said, glaring at Dorrin.
Dorrin had to think—two days before the coronation, then that, and then today—“Less than a hand of days,” she said.
“And you didn’t know—”
“I was summoned here for the coronation,” Dorrin said. “I had duties at the palace.”
“Oh. And you had not been here before?”
“Never.”
“Well, you’ll have to have that passage closed up. We have secured our end; I must see this end secured.”
“We have three exits to seal,” Dorrin said. “A temporary seal, to start with. On Marshal-Judicar Oktar’s recommendation, I’ll have some of these dividing walls pulled down and piled into the passages and then stone laid into the exits.”
“I suppose that will do,” he said. “I’ll have to talk to the Marshal—er … that would be you, wouldn’t it?”
“Right,” Oktar said. “Never mind; we’re all confused by this. Duke Verrakai lost a man today in a trap in this very cellar. I’d recommend you post guards down here. The Duke doesn’t have the resources right now, and the safety of your king demands it.”
“Post guards in a private house? We don’t usually—”
“It would be a great help,” Dorrin said. She had not thought of that, had wondered how her remaining four militia could possibly guard the cellar, the front, the back …
“Would you want any assistance upstairs?”
“If you could post someone at the front door,” Dorrin said. “My people are understandably upset at Jori’s death. He and Eddes were close friends; Eddes saw how he died. But my concern is that the cellar may not be completely safe. These Marshals and I have done what we can in a half-day’s time, but poor Jori’s death …”
“How did he die?”
“He thought an illusion was real and walked off the landing up there.” Dorrin pointed. “He fell into that trap.”
The officer shuddered. “And you think there might be more?”
“Not that we know of. But again—not until I have had this taken apart to the outermost walls, and those walls carefully examined, can I be sure it’s free of danger.”
“My lord! The chickens are ready!” Efla sounded more like Cook every day.
Dorrin’s stomach growled. She was suddenly ravenous. “If you can watch down here even the turn of a glass, I can offer the Marshals some supper.”
“You haven’t eaten? It’s late.”
Dorrin felt the last of her energy running out as if she were the hourglass. “We’ve been busy. Excuse me,” she said. “I need to go back upstairs.”
Despite the stuffed rolls Inder had brought and the two baked chickens, it was a somber group around the kitchen table for supper. A faint odor of death seeped through the house along with the sharp fragrance of herbs. The two local Marshals went back to their own granges. The Marshal-General and Marshal-Judicar stayed, but the talk was all of Jori: things Dorrin knew and things the others knew