for a small glass of wine, no doubt?” he said, winking merrily at his comrades. “Well, well! We’re very pleased to have a jester from the Market Square come visiting!”
“And how shall we introduce you, milord?” another guard asked with a bow that was elegant, despite being humorous. “You’re probably a marquis, like me? Or a duke? Your business with the king must be very urgent, I’m sure!”
The guardsmen started laughing again.
“You’re a jolly lad. But now be on your way. The king’s not seeing just anyone today, as usual.”
“Wonderful!” I said with an indifferent shrug. Just let Artsivus say that I hadn’t even tried. “Good-bye, milords.”
But before I could leave, a soldier with the badges of a lieutenant of the guard appeared out of nowhere and demanded that I name myself.
“Harold,” I replied.
The guards’ faces immediately dropped and the marquis even spat on the ground at his feet.
“So what was that comedy all about?” he asked me. “Why couldn’t you have said straightaway?”
“Follow me, I’ll show you through,” the lieutenant told me. “And next time, gentlemen, I’ll have your hides if you disobey an order from milord Alistan.”
The young noble lords had enough wits to keep quiet and not argue with the lieutenant. But their mood had definitely been spoiled. Too bad.
The road led from the gates directly toward a huge gray building with tall arched windows. There were plenty of people on the grounds, both servants and those who lived here thanks to Stalkon’s gracious generosity. I took a sly look around, just in case I should ever happen to come back here on my own account.
However, we didn’t go into the building. The lieutenant turned aside and led me along a path paved with yellow sandstone.
“So tell me, Harold, what is this business you have with milord Markauz, if he’s dashing off somewhere and dumping all the guards on me?” the lieutenant suddenly asked.
“I don’t know, milord.” I wasn’t going to give away state secrets to the very first person I met.
I thought I heard the lieutenant sigh.
“He’s going away at a bad time. A very bad time. The guards and the king need him here.”
I didn’t say anything.
“This is your spot. Sit somewhere and wait. Someone will come for you.”
The lieutenant walked away, with the silver buttons on his blue and gray uniform glittering in the sun.
I looked around.
A small garden with a round open space at the center, spread with sand. It was probably used for something like a fencing ground. Or whatever it is they call that place where guardsmen are trained to wave their shafts of metal about. I could see through to the palace; it was almost directly behind it, in fact. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and started waiting, carefully observing the people around me.
Oh yes, I was not the only one there. There were ten quite serious-looking lads hanging about nearby. I remembered their faces, because I’d seen them that night when I visited the duke’s house. They were the soldiers who had escorted Miralissa through the dark city.
Wild Hearts.
I drew a few mildly curious glances from them. But that was all. What in the name of a h’san’kor did they care about some stranger who had turned up out of the blue? Especially since all the Wild Hearts had urgent business to attend to. Some were playing dice, one was sleeping in the shade of the little fountain, some were checking their weapons, and one had decided to practice with his swords. And so Harold was ignored in a quite shameless manner.
In one corner of the garden there were four gnomes puffing and panting beside a bed of red roses. These short lads with narrow shoulders, so unlike their massive, smooth-faced cousins the dwarves, were circling round a massive cannon. They seemed to be trying to load it, but they couldn’t manage it somehow, and they were arguing irritably and waving their fists at each others’ red faces. This wasn’t really helping matters along, and the furious swearing only fueled the fire of argument.
The gnomes ran out of breath and started seeking a compromise. They tipped some powder into the cannon from a small, bright-red barrel. The ball was lying nearby, on the sand. One of the little folk, probably the youngest, to judge by his beard, tried to light his pipe, but received a smart cuff round the back of the head from one of his partners and put it back in his pocket with an offended sniff.
And I should think so, too! All we needed right now was to be blasted up into the air because of some bearded idiot’s carelessness.
I heard light, stealthy footsteps behind my back and said with a smile: “How’s life, Kli-Kli?”
“Ooh!” the goblin said in a disappointed voice. “How did you guess that it was me?”
“You were snuffling.”
“Oh no I wasn’t!” the jester protested, and sat down beside me on a step.
“Oh yes you were.”
“Oh no I wasn’t! And anyway, what do you mean by arguing with the king’s jester?” Kli-Kli asked resentfully, and to confirm what he had just said he put on the green jester’s cap with little bells that he had been holding in his hand.
“I’m not arguing,” I said with a shrug.
