her to investigate. Just because she risked her life to save him didn’t mean there could be any emotional attachment.
Linsha abruptly twisted her fingers into her linen towel and tore her eyes away from his face. “Did you say something about a meal?” she said to Shanron. The words came out too quickly to her ears, but she hoped no one else would notice.
Shanron lifted her long frame from the wall and climbed to her feet. “A little better than a bath in the harbor, isn’t it?”
The sincere smile that warmed Linsha’s face brightened her eyes and brought a rose blush to the freckles that dotted her cheeks. “It was utter paradise.”
Ian Durne blinked and looked at her again thoughtfully, disarmed and diverted by a loveliness he hadn’t noticed before. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, then snapped shut with a second thought. Abruptly he drew himself together. His light eyes turned away. He nodded to the two women. “I will leave you to your duties.”
Shanron returned his nod. Since she wasn’t in uniform, she wasn’t required to salute. If she noticed anything unusual about Linsha’s or Durne’s behavior, she kept it to herself. As she led her companion toward the big kitchens and the eating hall she told Linsha the functions of some of the other outer buildings, the granary, the smithy, and the brewing house. She pointed out the location of the privies, the training hall, and the central well and introduced Linsha to the half a dozen guards they passed. She dropped no hint of a friendship with Durne, and Linsha didn’t ask. The lady Knight was happy to let the subject drop.
The eating hall was filled with guards coming in for the noon meal. They made Linsha welcome and had her repeat the story of her jump into the harbor in her own words. Her reputation, under scrutiny as a new recruit, rose several notches, for Commander Durne was liked by his men and commanded their respect.
Linsha hungrily ate of the simple but hearty food, and afterward she begged a plate of scraps from the cook to take to the cat. He grumped about feeding useless strays, but after listening to several of Linsha’s heartfelt compliments, he gave her a bowl of stew meat and some fish scraps.
Outside the hall, Shanron took her leave. “I’m on sentry duty this afternoon,” she explained, “but I will see you tonight. Go to the armorer, over there, to see the tailor about your uniform and talk to Captain Dewald. He’s filling out the duty roster. Oh, and squires may not leave the palace grounds without permission and only in the company of another guard. So no shopping without me.” She waved and hurried off to don her own uniform.
Linsha carried her scraps to the stable and was pleased to see Windcatcher happily settled in an airy stall with a full hayrack and fresh water.
An old groom ambled up to greet her. “She’s a fine mare. Glad to have her. That for the cat? No wonder the captain wanted to save her. She’s caught three rats already. She’s up in the hayloft. And go quietly! We have an owl up there. Just appeared, so don’t scare it off.” He winked at her and ambled off without waiting for a reply.
Bemused by the groom’s rapid-fire announcements, Linsha chuckled to herself. She found the ladder to the hayloft on the far right of the long row of stalls and climbed slowly up, balancing the two bowls of food in one hand. The loft was hot, dusty, and close. Stacks of hay filled the loft almost to the roof beams in some places and made intriguing hills and valleys where it had been forked into racks below.
Linsha moved deeper into the interior and peered around in the dim light. She whistled softy, the cry of a mourning dove, and from somewhere in the shadowy rafters came a reply. She tried to spot the owl, hut Varia’s russet coloration and barred feathers made her very difficult to spot in poor light.
A shape detached itself from a beam and came floating down toward her. “There you are at last,” called a whispery voice. “I have been waiting for you.”
Chapter Nine
Linsha made herself comfortable in a pile of hay and put the bowls on the floor. She was about to ask the owl for her news when something rustled in the hay nearby. The calico cat walked sedately around a mound, a mouse in her mouth, and padded up to the owl.
Linsha watched warily in case the bird or the cat threatened the other, but the cat laid the mouse by Varia’s talons and meowed softly.
If the owl could have grinned, Varia would have been smiling from ear tuft to ear tuft. Her golden eyes blinked, and she delicately laid a foot on the gift. “I like this cat,” she told Linsha with a soft hiss.
The woman’s eyes widened. “She’s bringing you mice?”
“We have an understanding. I was supposed to ask you to bring fish for her because that’s what she prefers, but I see you’ve already anticipated this.”
Linsha, who had not anticipated any part of this, pushed the bowls of stew and fish scraps toward the cat and watched, amazed, as each animal enjoyed its meal.
As soon as the last bit of mouse disappeared, she leaned forward and whispered, “What news do you have? Did you see Lady Karine?”
The owl hopped to a pile of hay close to Linsha. “I did. She is pleased and will pass on the word to the Clandestine Circle.”
Linsha couldn’t help but grunt. “Huh. They probably already know.”
“She passes on greetings from your father. He spoke to your grand master and asked that his affections and regards be sent to you.”
The mention of her father pleased Linsha. It had been too many years since she had a chance to go home to visit her parents and grandparents. She hadn’t even seen Palin’s new Academy of Sorcery that he built in Solace.
“She also told me to tell you to be careful,” the owl went on. “You have been on the death ship, in town, among the dead. She is afraid you could become sick.”
A cold, crawling fear rolled in Linsha’s belly like a snake rousing from sleep, a fear made more uncomfortable by her long absence from her parents. What if she never saw them again? “I have thought of that,” she responded slowly, “but I don’t know what I can do.” She paused when another painful thought occurred to her. “Lord Bight was on the ship, too. What if he dies from this plague?”
That event would certainly shake the state of affairs in the eastern half of the Newsea. Who would move faster to claim his authority, the Dark Knights, the Solamnic Knights, or the black dragon, Sable?
Linsha was quiet for a time, lost in thought. “I saw you at the harbor last night,” she said after a while.
“Yes. I saw you, too, jumping off that pier after a man you hardly know.” The owl chuckled deep in her chest. “I almost sent some pelicans to fish you out.”
“Did you see the man who incited those boys?”
“I didn’t notice him until he left, and even then I regret I did not know the significance of his departure until he was already well on his way. I lost him in a street of busy taverns.”
“Would you recognize him again?” Linsha asked.
“Maybe. He had dark hair and a distinctive gait. Do you think he may be important?”
“I don’t know.” Linsha absently pushed the curls off her forehead. “Watch for him, Varia. Keep listening. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Of course,” the owl replied. She was quite good at hiding in trees or rooftops or making herself invisible in the shadows. She had become Linsha’s eyes and ears in the night-filled streets of Sanction. She hooted softly. “Always trust your instincts.”
Linsha slapped her hands on her thighs and pushed herself upright. “Well, my instincts tell me now I’d better go before that groom wonders what I’m doing.”
The cat licked the last of the drippings from the bowls and curled up beside the owl.
“Don’t forget to bring more fish,” Varia trilled as Linsha made her way to the ladder.
The captain of the
