They had even received news here in Stoneford that Jerrol had recently been involved in the negotiations with the Birtolian ambassadors. It was said it would strengthen the relationship with the Birtoli empire for years to come. She stared at her cat. “So what is he doing here apart from finding trouble?” The cat stared back, unconcerned. He began meticulously to clean his whiskers.
Chapter 18
Stoneford Watch
Jerrol rode up the road to the keep, his mind racing. The moon poked through gaps in the clouds, and he relaxed as it intermittently revealed familiar surroundings. He had left the little Arifel perched on the back of a chair crooning over Alyssa. Birlerion could explain her to Hannah if he had to.
He kept to the edges of the road and concentrated on dampening down the glow that emanated off his clothes again. That was something he needed to think about as well. He hadn’t paused since the Lady had blessed him with her presence, but although she might be happy, he didn’t want to advertise his presence to all and sundry if he could help it. He’d think about it later. He had other problems to solve this night.
Who would want to remove Lord Hugh from the Greenswatch? It was concerning, following Stefan’s accident in Deepwater. And, Jerrol mused, it would mean that relatively young and inexperienced keepers held two key Watches. Easy for the council to worm their way in there if they were not careful, and if so, what were they hoping to gain? Speaking of councils, there were a lot of new faces showing up, and that was unusual as well. Councillors tended to be homegrown, not imported from elsewhere. Who was driving these changes?
The keep loomed up ahead. The crenulated walls caught the moonlight and created deep inky shadows. Jerrol steered Zin’talia off the road and down the sidetrack, which he knew from old led to the midden. The keep had been his old stomping ground when he was a kid; he, Jennery and Taelia had grown up here under the auspices of Hannah and a few frustrated masters. He slid off and led Zin’talia into a small copse of willowy trees. Tying her reins loosely, out of reach of her hooves, he asked her to stay hidden as he scouted out the terrain. The guards’ voices drifted on the night air. Jason would have their guts if he managed to slip in without them seeing him.
He melted into the shadows and ghosted along the wall to the small wire gate. It secured the water inlet that ran out under the midden and helped keep the kitchen waste moist, rotting and smelly, ready for the growers to repurpose elsewhere. He undid the wire closure, which was rusting badly, slipped into the tunnel and closed the gate behind him. He was glad he was slight of build as he climbed up the pipe, levering himself into the lower storerooms set below the kitchen.
He paused, listening, but could hear no movement in the kitchen above. Jason was a night owl; if he were awake, he’d be in his study on the ground floor, hopefully on his own. Jerrol silently crept down the passageway and up the stairs to the kitchen. Once through the kitchen, he kept to the meagre shadows under the main staircase. The torches were bright, set in the walls. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the dull yellow glow beneath the sturdy wooden door which led into Jason’s study. He listened for a moment before easing the door open, slipping through the gap and closing it behind him.
Straightening up, he grinned into the surprised face of the keep warden, Lord Jason, sitting behind his desk lit by oil lamps, and surrounded by maps and bits of paper.
“Jerrol!” The warden leapt to his feet in surprise. “What in the world... how did you get in here? Where are my guards?” His face darkened with anger.
Jerrol held up his hands. “I needed to speak with you, and I didn’t want to advertise my presence, or at least not straight away. So, um, I evaded your guards, shall we say?”
Jason looked like he was going to have a fit. “You have no need to creep into my home like a thief, and you know it! But if you can, who else can? Times are not what they were, you know. I can’t have security breaches like this. We are exposed.” His face was flushed even though he was pleased to see Jerrol.
“Exposed? Who would threaten you, Jason? You’re a King’s Warden, protector of his lands.”
Jason grimaced as he came around the desk and engulfed Jerrol in a hug. Jerrol returned the embrace. “Lady’s blessings, it’s good to see you. I’m sorely in need of a sensible man for a change. Here, sit, sit!” Jason indicated the chair opposite his desk. “We’ll discuss how you got into my keep later. But for now, I am glad you are here. We’ve missed you, lad, must be over two years now since we last saw you.”
Jerrol was shocked at how much Jason had aged; deep worry lines creased his face, his hair was thinning and more grey than black, and he wasn’t as stocky as he used to be. “So what’s happening for you to need me to be sensible? Never was my strong point,” he said, trying to keep his concern out of his voice. Jason had no heir. His wife was long dead, and he had never had children. Jerrol had been his surrogate child as Jason had been Jerrol’s father figure, both finding something they needed in the other, and on top of that, they couldn’t afford
