Johauna approached the man.
“I wish to enter the donjon, gatekeeper,” Flinn said decisively.
The guard casually looked at Flinn and sighed, indifferent. “State your name and business, ruffian. We don’t let just anyone into the keep, you know.”
Flinn drew himself to his full height, Wyrmblight resting on the ground between his hands. “I am Flinn, former knight of the Order of the Three Suns,” he said. “Today is the open council, and I wish to speak before Baroness Penhaligon.”
The young guard’s eyes bulged. “I thought you were dead,” he said inanely. He opened the gate leading to the drawbridge and beckoned Flinn through.
“Not hardly,” Flinn growled between clenched teeth. He’d encountered this sort of response before, and he was in no mood for it today. His palm itched, and he rubbed it against the metal-clad pommel of Wyrmblight. He and Jo stepped onto the bridge, Jo following him at the requisite distance. A pair of guards wielding spears strode forward, and Flinn saw more lurking in the shadows of the archway. He halted halfway, as did the guards.
“Is something amiss, good sirs?” Flinn called out pleasantly enough, though a thread of irritation laced the words. Madam Astwood had doubtless informed the castle guard of his presence. Flinn prayed Brisbois wouldn’t be so cowardly as to flee.
“We have orders to escort you to Lord Maldrake’s chambers, peasant,” one guard said stiffly. “Will you come with us peaceably?”
Lord Maldrake? Flinn thought quickly. Why Lord Maldrake? To admit he’d misunderstood Flinn’s actions regarding the ogre? That seemed highly unlikely. Perhaps Maldrake had been promoted to castellan and was in charge of security. Or perhaps Maldrake was trying to protect Brisbois.
“I am here for the open council,” Flinn said as easily as he could. “I will be delighted to meet with Lord Maldrake either at the council hall or later today in his chambers.”
“But, sir, we have-” began one knight. She was interrupted by someone walking up behind the two guards.
“I’ll handle this, Gerune,” an approaching man said gruffly. When the guards hesitated, the man fixed them with an icy stare and said, “You may go now. Lord Maldrake may think this is a peasant matter, but it isn’t. This man will answer to me.” The guards turned and walked quickly away.
Sir Lile Graybow, castellan of the keep, strode forward and grasped Flinn’s wrist in greeting. He wore fine clothes and a gyrfalcon pendant, which signified his office. He had gained an extra chin, Flinn noticed, and his hair was thinner and grayer, but he was still Lile Graybow. Flinn sensed the steel that bound this man’s soul. The castellan’s position had always been, by tradition, filled by the knight most revered in all Penhaligon, and the rule still held true. Flinn had once hoped to take Graybow’s place when the man was ready to step down.
“Fain Flinn. As I live and breathe, I always knew you’d return one day, but events like this are unexpected, nevertheless,” Sir Graybow said.
“It’s good to see you again, Sir Graybow,” Flinn said formally. “I’m on my way to the council to explain the truth about what happened when I left here so many years ago. Aren’t you on the council anymore?”
“Yes, I am. However, I couldn’t pass up welcoming you back personally. I have my spies, and they told me you were here,” Graybow added conspiratorially. “It’s about time you returned. I wish I’d been around when you were accused. You deserved a fair trial and not a mobbing. I’d have kept the young hotheads in tow if I’d been there, believe me. But today will be your chance to amend old wrongs. Be careful-the same people who wished you ill back then are still here.” Sir Graybow gestured toward the donjon, and they began walking into the keep. As they did, the old knight looked over his shoulder at Jo. “See you’ve found yourself a squire. ’Least she knows protocol. Things have gotten a bit slack around here of late, but the baroness is trying. We make do.”
“You mentioned people who wish me no good, Sir Graybow,” Flinn said after a moment’s silence. “Sir Brisbois, for one, obviously. Is Lord Maldrake another? I barely remember him. Exactly who is he?” Flinn stopped abruptly inside the castle. He’d forgotten how lovely the donjon was, with its soaring stone pillars, patterned granite floors, and magnificent tapestries. Warm light beamed from hosts of magical lanterns.
The castellan came to a halt and turned to Flinn. He said slowly, “You mean you don’t know who Lord Maldrake is?”
When Flinn shook his head, Graybow continued, “He’s the man who married your wife.”
Flinn stared in stunned silence at the castellan.
“Come,” Graybow said, nodding toward the council chambers. “Justice is long overdue.”
In silence the two men passed through the giant doors into the great hall where the open council was held. The roar inside the hall was almost unbearable, as was the heat. Nearly two thousand men and women crowded into the great hall, all waiting their turn to state their case before the baroness and her council. Many had arrived in the night and waited for the doors to open at cock’s crow. At that time, pages and squires had immediately begun collecting names and complaints to give to the junior knights, who in turn filtered the more interesting or faster cases on to Baroness Arteris. The fourteen other council members handled the more mundane cases. Matters were swiftly presented to a council member-and swiftly decided. Although many peasants would have their case resolved that day, still more would be turned away once cock’s crow hailed the next morning.
Flinn and Graybow fought their way toward the front of the hall, and the castellan used his office more than once when someone protested their passage. Finally they reached an area that was cordoned off around a long rectangular table on a dais. Only the pages, squires, and knights presenting the commoners’ cases were allowed into the cordoned area. At the center of the table sat Baroness Arteris. Around her, the other council members stood or sat. Flinn bit his inner lip when he saw Sir Brisbois at the far end of the table. The knight had been given Flinn’s seat on the council! Flinn looked at the rest of the members and recognized only a few of them. His eyes paused at an elegantly dressed, blond man who looked strangely familiar. Then realization dawned:
Lord Maldrake.
Lile Graybow touched Flinn’s arm. “Wait here, son. I’m going to have a private word with the baroness. She’ll want to try your case herself, I’m sure.”
Flinn nodded. Behind him Jo tugged on his sleeve, and he turned to her. She pointed off to their left; Braddoc, Karleah, and Dayin had entered behind them and wormed their through the crowd. Flinn nodded to the dwarf, who returned the gesture. Then Flinn turned back toward the front, where Sir Graybow approached the back of the dais to speak privately with the baroness.
“Why aren’t there any guards surrounding the baroness?” Jo asked suddenly. “Does she trust the people that much? Don’t they ever get out of hand?” Setting her hand on her sword, she eyed the people jostling for position around her.
“There are guards, but not as many as you think.” Flinn pointed to the blue velvet ropes surrounding the dais. “You see how no one is standing anywhere near the ropes? That’s because the rope repels people. The cordoned area is laced with magical defenses to keep people out. If you get too close to it, a jolt of fire ripples through you. I hear it’s quite painful. Furthermore, no magic can penetrate that area, and weapons such as ours disappear if we enter the cordon uninvited. Don’t ask me how that works because I’m not a wizard. Ask Karleah; she could answer that one. The ropes are why the guards don’t bother checking weapons at the door.”
“Are the defenses foolproof?” Jo asked curiously.
“As far as I know, yes. Even arrows and crossbow bolts disappear once they enter the cordoned area. My guess is there’re wards other than just the ropes, but I don’t know for sure,” answered Flinn absently. Graybow was talking to the baroness now, and Flinn saw the older man gesture toward him. He glanced at Brisbois and Maldrake, noting that only the latter appeared to see him. Then Flinn saw Edwina Astwood leave Maldrake’s side.
“But if the baroness unknowingly invited a magical beast into the cordon, it could wreak havoc, couldn’t it?” Jo asked, but Flinn shushed her. Sir Graybow was waving him down and would meet him at the entrance to the cordon.
“It’s time to go, Johauna,” Flinn said hastily.
“Already?” Jo’s voice broke, and she coughed. “Already, Flinn?” she said in a lower voice. “I thought we’d have a chance to sit around for a couple of hours and-and get prepared for this!”
“Well, I thought so, too, but Sir Graybow’s called in some favors. He wants us down there, now!” Flinn pushed his way through the last of the crowd. Jo followed so closely behind him that she stepped on his heels. Moments later, they stood before the castellan, who put his hand on Flinn’s shoulder, then looked at the baroness and nodded.
