Keiro kept his mocking grin. 'He's my brother. Of course I care about him.'
'You only care about yourself.' She turned to Gildas. 'And you too. Master. You ..
She stopped. Gildas obviously wasn't listening. He stood leaning one arm on a metal tree, staring ahead. 'Come here,' he said quietly.
Keiro put his hand out and Finn took it, pulling himself groggily to his feet. They crossed to the Sapient and stood behind him; looking out, they saw what he saw.
The forest ended here. Ahead a narrow road ran down to a City. It stood behind walls in a fiery landscape of bare plains. Houses clustered together, constructed of patches of metal, towers and battlements built of strange dark wood, thatched with tin and copper leaves.
All along the road to it, in long noisy streams of laughter and shouting and song, in crowds and wagons, carrying children and driving flocks of sheep, hundreds and hundreds of people were streaming.
HER KNEES up on the carriage seat, Claudia read the small pad while Alys slept. The carriage bounced; outside, the green woods and fields of the Wardenry rattled by in a cloud of dust and flies.
My name is Gregor Bartlett. This is my testament. I pray those who find it to keep it safe, and when the time comes, to use it, because a great injustice has been done and only I am alive to know about it.
I worked in the Palace from my early years. I was a stable boy and a postillion, then a house servant. I became trusted, rose to be important. I was Valet of the Chamber to the late King, and I remember his first wife, the frail pretty woman from Overseas that he married when they both were young. When his first son, Giles, was born I was given charge of him. I arranged the wet nurse, appointed maids of the nursery. He was the Heir; nothing was spared for his comfort. As the boy grew I came to love him like my own. He was a happy child. Even when his mother died and the King remarried, he lived in his own wing of the Palace, surrounded by his precious toys and pets, his own household. I have no children of my own. The boy became my life. You must believe that.
Gradually, I sensed a change. As he grew, his father came to him less and less. There was a second son now, the Earl Caspar, a squalling noisy baby petted over by the women of the Court. And there was the new Queen.
Sia is a strange, remote woman. They say the King looked out of his carriage once as he was being driven along a forest road, and there she stood, at the crossroads. They say that as he drove past her he saw her eyes— they are strange eyes, with pale irises—and after that moment he could not stop thinking about her. He sent messengers back, but no one was there. He had the nearby villages and estates searched, issued proclamations, offered rewards to his noblemen, but no one could find her. And then, weeks later, as he walked in the gardens of the Palace, he looked up and she was there, sitting by the fountain.
No one knows her parentage, or where she comes from. I believe her to be a sorceress.
What became clear soon after her son was born was her hatred for Giles. She never showed it to the King or his Court; to them she was careful to honor the Heir. But I saw it.
He was betrothed at seven years old to the daughter of the Warden of Incarceron. A haughty little girl, but he seemed to like her...
Claudia smiled. Glancing at Alys she leaned out of the window. Her father's carriage was behind; he must be sharing it with Evian. She scrolled the text down.
... the happiness of his birthday party, a night when we rowed on the lake under the stars and he told me how happy he was. I will never forget his words to me.
The death of his father affected him badly. He became solitary. Did not attend the dances and games. He studied hard. I wonder now if he had begun to fear the Queen. He never said so. Now I will pass to the end. The day before the riding accident I received a message that my sister, who lived at Casa, was sick. I asked Giles for leave to go to her; the dear boy was most concerned, and insisted the kitchens make me up a parcel of delicacies to take her. He also made sure I had a carriage. He waved me off on the steps of the Outer Court. That was the last time I ever saw him.
When I arrived, my sister was in excellent health. She had no knowledge of who had sent the message.
My heart misgave me. I thought of the Queen. I wanted to return at once, but the coachman, who may have been the Queens man, refused, saying the horses were exhausted. I am no longer a rider, but I saddled a horse from the inn and I rode back, galloping hard, all through the night. I will not try to write the agonies of worry I felt. I came over the hill and saw the thousand pinnacles of the Court, and I saw that from every one of them a black pennant flew.
I remember little after that.
They had laid his body on a bier in the Great Council Chamber, and after it was ready, I asked leave to approach him. A message came from the Queen, with a man to escort me. He was the secretary of the Warden, a tall silent man called Medlicote ...
Claudia was so surprised she whistled. Alys snored and turned.
... I climbed the steps like a broken creature. My boy lay there and they had made him beautiful. I bent to kiss his face with tears blinding my eyes. And then I paused.
Oh, they had made a good job of it. Whoever the boy was he was the right age and coloring, and the skinwand had been carefully used. But I knew, I knew.
It was not Giles.
I think I laughed. One gasp of joy. I pray no one noticed, that no one knows. I sobbed, retired, played the heartbroken retainer, the broken old man. And yet I know the secret that the
Queen, and perhaps the Warden, wish no one to know.
That Giles is alive.
And where else can he be but in Incarceron?
Alys grunted and yawned and opened her eyes. 'Are we nearly at the inn yet?' she asked sleepily.
Claudia stared at the small pad, eyes wide. She looked up at her nurse as if she'd never seen her before. Then she glanced down and read the last sentence again.
And again.
16
Don't defy me, John. And be on your guard. There are plots in the Court, and conspiracies against us. As for Claudia, from what you say she has already seen what she searches for. How amusing that she did not even recognize it.
It was hours before she could get Jared alone. There was the fuss of finding their rooms, the innkeeper bowing and scraping, the supper, endless small talk from Evian, her father's calm watchfulness, Caspar's complaints about his horse.
But finally, well after midnight, she tapped on the door of his attic and slipped in.
He was sitting at the window looking at the stars, a bird pecking bread from his hands.
She said, 'Don't you ever sleep?'
Jared smiled. 'Claudia, this is folly. If they catch you here, you know what they'd think.'
She said, 'I'm bringing you into danger, I know. But we have to talk about what he wrote.'
He was silent a moment. Then he released the bird, closed the window, and turned, and she saw the shadows under his eyes. 'Yes.'
They looked at each other. Finally she said, 'They didn't kill Giles. They imprisoned him.'
'Claudia...'
'They wouldn't spill Havaarna blood! Or perhaps the Queen was afraid to. Or my father ...'
She looked up. 'It's true. My father must know.'
The bleakness in her voice shocked them both. She sat on a chair. 'And there's something else. This boy Finn. The Prisoner. His voice ... seems familiar.'
