There was only one thing I could do—wait.
Should I put a crossbow bolt into the guard? In principle, it was possible, but in that kind of darkness I wasn’t sure that I could hit him in the neck. If I missed, then he’d probably bellow like a hog under the butcher’s knife and wake the entire house.
I sat down on the floor and started watching through the light, airy curtains. The little light flared up as he inhaled—he poisoned the air for what seemed like an eternity.
Eventually the guard stood up, stamped the remains of his paper pipe into the ground, slung his hefty crossbow over his shoulder, and tramped over to the door. I gave a sigh of relief, but I was getting ahead of myself. The guard swung round sharply and set off along the wall, then swung round again.…
He’s patrolling, the lousy dog! I really don’t like overdiligent guards—they’re always a big headache. And this lad certainly is.
There was no point in grinding my teeth—you only get one set. I sat back down on the floor and started counting the guard’s steps. Six … ten … fifteen … twenty-two …
I didn’t have much time, in fact none at all. I had to take the risk. I waited until the man turned his back to me and shot out onto the balcony.
Two …
The spider web took a grip and I flung myself over the railings and jumped, clinging onto the rope with both hands.
Eight …
It must have been the quickest descent of my life. If I hadn’t been wearing gloves, I’d have ripped all the skin off my hands, and the muscle along with it. But not even the gloves could protect me against the fire scorching my palms.
Ten …
I tugged on the spider web and it came unstuck from the balcony, fell, and rolled up into a coil.
Thirteen …
I leaped forward toward the really thick darkness under a feeble, stunted apple tree.
Fifteen …
The guard swung round and came walking toward me. Come on now, darling, you won’t even notice me until you trip over me. When the guard turned away again, I started moving toward him, making short little runs from one shadow to another.
Eventually I found myself behind the guard, who strode along like a mechanical toy, and I took my brass knuckles out of my pocket and smacked them against the back of his head.
The lad gave a grunt of surprise and started falling over backwards. I grabbed hold of him and sat him down on the grass, with his back leaning against the trunk of a tree. Just to be on the safe side, I unloaded his crossbow and threw the bolt into the fountain, then after thinking for a moment, I threw his bag with the other nine bolts in there, too.
Then I set the useless weapon across the lad’s knees and stepped to take a look at the result of my efforts.
That will do. From a distance he looks just like someone who’s fallen asleep. I just hope that this guard will sleep all the way through until morning.
Using the spider web, it took only a minute to clamber up onto the balcony I needed. The door here was slightly ajar, and there was a light draft toying with the white curtains. I took one step into the room and waited for my eyes to get used to the darkness.
There was definitely someone in the room. I could hear them snuffling gently. The bed over by the far wall gradually took shape, emerging out of the gloom. I had to walk past it to get out. When I’d almost reached the door, a floorboard creaked under my feet.
I stopped, wincing as if I had a toothache. The person in the bed turned over and started snuffling again. Another step, and another creak from a floorboard.
I almost jumped in surprise when I heard an indecisive little yap from the bed.
A dog!
“What’s wrong, Tobiander?” a sleepy voice asked.
Countess Ranter! Of all people, I’d ended up in her bedroom!
“Rr-ruff? Ruff!”
“What is it? Rats?”
The old woman half sat up, as if she was peering into the darkness, but she didn’t get off the bed. Fortunately for me, her damned little mongrel wasn’t the brave type, either, and he was in no hurry to sink his teeth into me.
“It’s all that detestable count’s fault, my little love! I told him I was afraid of rats, and his servants put us in a room like this. Even the floor squeaks here, never mind those horrible gray monsters! They’re just waiting to get at my poor little boy.”
“Rrr-ruff!” Tobiander agreed.
“Let’s go to sleep, my little one. Those disgusting rats won’t be able to reach us!”
Tobiander yapped again to calm his own nerves, and then shut up. My legs were completely numb from standing still before I heard the countess start snuffling again.
Trying to move as quietly as possible, I went out into the corridor, which was a precise copy of the one that my route had led me down in the other wing. The same carpet, the same lighting, and the same emptiness.
I moved forward, stopping every two yards to listen to the silence. One door on my right was slightly open.
“But who is she?”
“Keep your mouth shut. Some questions can put you in your grave.”
Paleface!
“All I did was ask…”
“And all I did was give you a piece of advice—less loose talk. You know the count is fond of shortening tongues that are too long. And I don’t know who she is, anyway. I was told to meet her, and so I met her. The rest of it is none of my business.”
“All right, all right, Rolio. Let’s just forget it. How about a drop of wine?”
“No. And stop smoking that garbage, I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“What are you getting so uppity about?” The man’s voice sounded offended.
“That woman makes me uneasy…”
I took a cautious peep in through the crack of the door and I was hit by a weak smell of charm-weed. Paleface and another man, the one who was smoking, were sitting on a table and casting dice. Each one of them had a tall heap of assorted coins in front of him. Rolio was sitting with his back to me, and I was really tempted to put a bolt between his shoulder blades there and then and get rid of him for good.
“I’m sorry, Rolio, it seems to me that you’re worrying about the wrong things. You have a Commission to complete. That lad’s still walking around and more than a month’s gone by now.”
“You deal with your own business, and I’ll deal with mine!”
I heard footsteps. Whoever it was, he was tramping like a platoon on Parade Square, so I heard him long before he reached the corridor. I jumped back from the door and looked around desperately for somewhere to hide.
“What’s wrong?” I heard the smoker ask in a surprised voice.
“There’s someone there.”
“Where?”
“Outside the door.”
I heard a chair being moved back. Seven yards along the corridor there were niches with huge vases of flowers, as tall as a man, standing in them. The niches were full of darkness, and I made a dash for them, hoping to hide behind one of the vases.
I barely managed to fit into the narrow space between a vase and the wall. I didn’t dare risk moving the vase, in case it fell over.
A man walked past me along the corridor, swaying about as violently as if he were on the deck of a ship in a
