Pantros leaned out the window. Half a dozen guards approached the carriage and the palace gates were closed. “Why aren’t they opening the gates?” Pantros asked.
“Entry to the Palace is by invitation only until the crisis passes,” the guard closest to Pantros answered. The armor the guard was wearing was trimmed in gold, unlike the armor of the other guards.
“We’re here on official kingdom business,” Pantros said.
The guard approached the window. “That’s the same thing the last thousand people I turned away said. Unless you have King Reginald in there, you are not coming through.”
Sheillene stepped out of the carriage and approached the guard. “Captain Ghovan, I bear a missive from Prince Estephan to his brother. I am charged with delivering it, in person.”
“Sheillene, it’s good to see you again,” Ghovan said. “I can let you in, but your associates will not be allowed to enter.”
“The people in the carriage include a Knight of Relarch, Thomas Boncanta and a king.” Pantros heard Sheillene whisper, “of sorts.” After the royal title.
“King?” The guard asked. “Which king?”
Sheillene gestured to Pantros, “This is The King of Legerdemain.”
The guard’s looked at Pantros a moment then bowed, “Your Highness, my apologies.” He stepped away from the carriage and motioned to the guards by the gate. They pulled the gates open. “Welcome to Melnith, Your Highness, I hope you enjoy our hospitality.”
Pantros nodded, trying not to look surprised.
After they passed through the gates, Pantros asked Sheillene, “Legerdemain? Where is that? I don’t mind lying, but I should know more if I’m to play a role.”
“It’s not a where, but like you, the Guard didn’t seem to know that,” Sheillene said. “Legerdemain is the art of the pickpocket; it means sleight-of-hand. You are recognized as the King of Thieves; so really, there wasn’t a lie, just a juxtaposition of a title of nobility for one of recognition.”
“Bards know too many big words,” Pantros said.
“There are no big words,” Sheillene said with a grin, “just small minds.”
“Now you’re insulting kings?” Pantros asked.
Sheillene just chuckled.
David pulled the carriage to the palace’s main door. Men and women in royal livery scurried about the carriage, setting stepping blocks in front of the doors.
An Abvi in a fine doublet, also of the royal blue and gold, stood by a blue carpet rolled out to the step. When the travelers stepped out of the carriage, he asked, “I am Hijal, Assistant Seneschal of the Royal Palace. Who shall I say has arrived?”
“Sheillene of Whisperwillow,” Sheillene introduced herself. “And her esteemed companions.”
Pantros guessed they didn’t need to exaggerate their nobility now that they were past the gates. The guards were long out of earshot.
“Would that be Lady Sheillene,” Hijal asked.
“I’m not a noble,” Sheillene said. “If you need a title, you can use ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress’.” Sheillene pulled out a bronze medallion she had tucked under her armor. It had a symbol including a bow and spear, the symbol of the Hunter’s Guild.
Hijal looked at Sheillene’s medallion then at her face for a moment then at the guards by the gates.
“I have a royal missive from King Reginald for Prince Reginald,” Sheillene said.
Hijal looked a little relieved for a moment then the panic returned to his face when he asked, “Will you be staying in the palace?”
Sheillene put her hand on the seneschal’s shoulder. “Were that the only order of important business we had, no, but we have other matters and once the King is aware of them, he will undoubtedly wish us to remain his guests.”
“I’ll have quarters arranged. How many of you are there?” Hijal asked.
“Faren,” Sheillene asked the innkeeper, “Are you heading out to your cousin’s?”
“I would like to stay, the palace is tempting, but I’d not feel comfortable in a place so beyond my station,” Faren said. “I’ll be taking my leave of you here. I owe you all. My inn is your second home, if it’s still there once the Vulak are dispersed.” He gave a sleight bow then walked off towards the gates.
Sheillene turned back to Hijal and said, “Seven, and one of us is big, half-ogre, I think.”
“I’m not half-ogre,” Marc said.
“You may as well be,” Hijal said. “I don’t think we have beds that big.” The seneschal then went over to the attendants unloading the carriage. “Take their luggage to Reginald’s servant’s quarters. Take their weapons as well.” He pointed to Marc and Sheillene. Marc had his swords strapped to his back and Sheillene, as always, held her unstrung bow in her hand. A rack of arrows were clipped to the bow.
“No one touches my bow but me,” Sheillene said. “And I keep it with me at all times.”
“We cannot allow weapons in the palace proper,” The seneschal said. “As long as you…”
Sheillene cut the seneschal off, “I think you are forgetting that I am the kingdom archery champion. That makes me part of the king’s honor guard. I would be obligated to have my bow with me in his presence.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Hijal said. “I’ve seen you twice on stage and a dozen times at the tournament. I’ve never seen you here in the palace. Forgive my forgetfulness.”
“Politics does not make for exciting stories,” Sheillene said.
“We’ll still need to take the half-ogre’s weapons to the armory,” Hijal said.
“My name is Marc, Marc Williams, and I’m not part ogre.” Marc unslung his swords and handed them to an attendant. Bryan did the same with his greatsword.
David also handed his sheathed sword to the attendant. “Don’t lose this; it was my father’s.”
“Milord, your sword?” Hijal said, pointing to Pantros’s hip.
“I don’t think the sword would appreciate me letting you have it, even temporarily,” Pantros said. “He’s quite moody.”
Sheillene again intervened. “It’s an ensouled sword.”
“And the boy is human?” Hijal asked. “You’re right; we can’t take an ensouled sword. An ensouled sword would never allow itself to be used to threaten a king.” Hijal then stepped over to one of the attendants and said. “Make sure their rooms have baths prepared. I am certain they will want to have their clothing laundered, see that it gets done with haste.”
Pantros had gotten used to the stench of a handful of people stuck in a carriage for six days. Being reminded, he suddenly worried about the impression he was making on the King’s attendants.
Marc said dourly, “If we’re talking baths, I suppose this is where we make another half-ogre joke, since I doubt there is a tub in the palace to fit me.”
Hijal looked at Marc and sighed. “We have a dock on the river near your quarters. The river water is kept clean by several Tempests.”
“I’ll be fine with a bowl of water and a towel,” Bryan said.
“Your room attendant can see to that,” Hijal said. He then pointed to an attendant standing by them. “Tethen will see you to your rooms now.”
Tethen hadn’t spoken to them beyond saying, “This way,” or “Left just ahead,” during the walk to their rooms. Pantros had tried to engage him about the construction of the palace and who had designed the layout. As they walked, Pantros couldn’t help but notice the planning of the guests’ quarters being nearly separated from the main palace. They passed through two grand halls and had an opportunity to glance into the king’s great hall. They passed several nobles, none of whom did more than glance at them.
The quarters they were given were in the basement beneath a building connected to the palace only by a covered walkway. They were told that Prince Reginald was staying alone in the house above and that he didn’t have any servants staying with him.
More royal attendants arrived, drawing baths for them and taking all the clothing they could get away with. Only Sheillene had kept a clean dress in her pack, having worn only her armor every day on the road. Those that didn’t have spare clothing were measured and an attendant was sent into the city to find clothing for them. Pantros made sure that attendant took his gold to spend and not the king’s.
