After what seemed like an age, the horse relaxed enough for Darshan to guide the animal around the disaster scattered across the street and down another, less hectic, road. Their group wove through a few more relatively empty streets before entering into one a little wider than the others.
Large buildings dominated either side of this street and they halted before one that, like most of the surrounding buildings, started off with a few brick levels before climbing up several more with the aid of timber. Windows jutted out all over those upper levels. The bottom level was clearly reserved for horses, carts and cargo, with plenty of each crowding a space that would’ve rivalled the imperial ballroom had it been empty.
Two sets of stairs led the way into the building. People clattered up and down them, lugging small chests or sacks. Unlike back home, there was no signage above the archway leading into the area beyond a simple iron wrought sign of what he presumed was a sack.
Not waiting for any sort of signal, the boys leapt off their horses and eagerly dragged the long-suffering beasts into stalls. Darshan followed their lead with the dismounting, but waited for an indication of where his horse should go.
Rather than dismount, Gordon merely waited for Mac to slide down the horse’s shoulder onto the street. “Right, I’m off to the Roaring Stag for a few pints.” He chucked a small pouch Hamish’s way, it jingled with the telltale rattle of money. “Meet me there when you’re done.”
Darshan peered at the man. “I thought we were to be chaperoned?” Gordon had certainly made enough noise about it in the courtyard and whilst passing through the gates. He wouldn’t be surprised if the whole castle knew where they were and with whom.
Smirking, Gordon toyed with his reins. “I can if you want, although I think a certain person would much rather I vanish from the land.” His gaze slid towards Hamish.
Darshan followed the look, ducking under the horse’s neck to see in full, and bit his lip in order to refrain from laughing. If mere looks were capable of hurtling a person into the atmosphere, then Gordon would’ve reached the moon by now.
“But so long as you dinnae snog me brother in public again,” the man continued. “I dinnae see why you shouldnae be fine walking around the stalls without me shadowing you. Besides, there’s me nephews to keep you in line, right lads?”
“Yes, Uncle Gordon,” all three children chimed in unison. Darshan wasn’t sure how the man could believe the boys. Their expressions certainly didn’t lend themselves to any sort of dependability.
“By the way, ‘Mish, we’ll be travelling to the cloister in the morning,” Gordon announced as if it were an afterthought. “Keep that in mind.”
Hamish froze, half out of his saddle. “Mum actually agreed to let me go after everything that’s been going on?”
“Aye.” Gordon swung to eye Darshan, kneeing his horse close enough to keep his voice low. “If you’d like to come with us…”
“You are actually asking me to come along?” That seemed awfully at odds with the man’s previous stance. “I thought I was untrustworthy.”
Gordon inclined his head. “I am asking. Wouldnae normally, but ‘Mish insisted I extend the invitation after your interest in visiting.” He glanced over Darshan’s shoulder and, seemingly satisfied, added, “Personally, I’d take you there and leave you.”
“Would the queen not stop me? I cannot imagine your mother would be amenable to having me in Hamish’s presence for such an extended period.” Especially after their mid-morning meeting.
“It’s nae as if you two will be alone. I’ll be there, as will a handful of guards. Besides…” he added, shrugging. “…she’s got to ken, first. By the time she realises you’re with us, it’ll be too late to send extra guards. If you’re coming, be at the stables before sunrise.” Clearing his throat, Gordon gave the boys a stern nod. “Behave for your uncle.” With that, he nudged his mount into a steady trot back out into the street.
“We shouldnae be more than a few hours,” Hamish said, having finally dismounted. The boys took up his mare’s reins, along with those of Darshan’s mount, and vanished into the stables with the two horses. “If you’re after funds, then I’d recommend trying the small door.” He jerked a thumb at the narrower set of steps leading off to their left. Although far less crowded, there was an air about it that put Darshan in the mind of a servant’s entrance than the double doors opening onto the whole of the courtyard. “Dinnae be too long. I’m nae sure how long I can keep the lads here before they start complaining.”
“I shall attempt to be swift,” Darshan promised before trotting up the narrow stairs. A quick rap on the door had it swinging open to the flat clank of an old cowbell.
A young man stood on the other side of the door. He bowed as Darshan stepped inside and indicated the hallway sweeping off to Darshan’s right as if the left option held more than a blank wall.
Bowing his head in thanks, Darshan strode down the hall. A few closed doors dotted the left side. The interior of the building was lit by oil lanterns, their ruddy light throwing a warm air over the wooden walls. He had expected a little more show of opulence, perhaps a few rugs or some curtains that didn’t look quite so threadbare. Maybe he really had entered through the servant’s entrance.
He glanced back the way he had come and bumped straight into a door that he was certain hadn’t been open a moment ago.
“Oh really,” a harsh voice snapped on the other side, the top of a grey head of hair just visible around the edge. “You clunking louts ought to take more care where you’re—” The voice’s owner glared at Darshan for all of a moment before shock stilled her tongue. Steel-grey eyes swept over him, no doubt taking
