Collecting his travel pack and daggers that were unaccountably still where he had left them and regretting the loss of his dress sword, which the Prince had taken a liking to, he grabbed his spare. He froze as he heard pounding feet in the distance. Time to go, but maybe not via the stable as he had first intended. He picked up his overcoat and slipped out of the garrison without a soul seeing him.
Jerrol observed the entrance to the Chapterhouse of the Lady’s Order of Remargaren. It looked perfectly normal, with scholars entering and leaving the stone archway unhindered. It didn’t appear to be under surveillance, but he couldn’t be sure. Few people knew of his relationship with the scholars, but that didn’t mean the connection hadn’t been made; after all, it hadn’t been a secret. He slipped out of the shadows, following the dirt track around the golden-coloured stone walls to the rear gate. His timing was perfect – the supply cart was entering the Chapterhouse, and he managed to slip in with the cart before the gate closed.
The Remargaren Chapterhouse was the centre of learning in Vespiri. It was a sprawling set of two-storey buildings above ground which split into colleges focused on a variety of disciplines. The Chapterhouse contained scholars from all over Remargaren learning the skills of research and interpretation. Below ground was a catacomb of archives and tunnels still being excavated and catalogued by the scholars, and – Jerrol was sure – not yet fully discovered.
Scholar Deane Liliian was a formidable, angular woman. Grey-haired and sharp-eyed, she had been a close confidant of the King for many years. As head of the Chapterhouse, Liliian was the one Jerrol sought. He sauntered through the cloisters which led out of the courtyard and through the walled garden. He reached the stone stairs at the base of the tower which led up to Liliian’s office. Hoping she would be in residence, he acknowledged the portly scholar-secretary seated at the desk in the outer office.
“Is the Deane in?”
“Captain Haven! We weren’t expecting you!” His eyes widened as he took in Jerrol’s dishevelled appearance. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, fine,” Jerrol lied.
“She has people with her, and there is no free time until much later today.” He spread his hands. “Her calendar is solid, and she has to go up to the palace this afternoon.”
“I can’t wait. If you could keep my visit between us three, I’d appreciate it. I need to leave the Deane a message; I have to leave town, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
The scholar smiled, used to keeping the captain’s visits under wraps. “What is it this time?”
“Can’t say. Is Scholar Torsion here, do you know?” Jerrol scribbled a note explaining his situation, before folding the paper and handing it back.
The scholar shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. Scholar Torsion left for Velmouth about four or five months ago. Haven’t seen him since.”
“Keep it close. I wasn’t here!” Jerrol left the office hoping to escape the Chapterhouse without being seen, but he should have known better. She always seemed to know where he was.
She was waiting for him outside the tower, a slender silver-robed figure, a broad smile across her face. A mass of curly brown hair tumbled around her shoulders, framing a precious heart-shaped face, dominated by enormous sparkling turquoise eyes.
“Taelia.” Jerrol scanned the courtyard and, wrapping her in a hug, steered her out of view behind a stone column. He indulged in breathing in the fragrance of her hair and the tension running through his body eased.
“Jerrol, you weren’t going to sneak out without seeing me, were you?” Her smile slipped as her hands fluttered over his face. “What’s happened?” Her fingers paused at the heat of his bruises.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to look out for me? It’s safer if you stay away from me; I’m nothing but trouble. Torsion’s told you enough times.”
“Rubbish. I can choose my friends.”
“You don’t need friends like me.” Jerrol forced the words out. “I’ve been dishonourably discharged. The Prince and no doubt the Chancellor are after my head. I have to leave before they track me down. It would have been safer for you if you hadn’t known I was here. I don’t want to get the scholars in trouble.”
Taelia gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “But what about the King? He can’t want you to leave. He relies on you.” She tilted her head. “In fact, there’s something else, isn’t there? I can feel it. The King’s charged you with something, hasn’t he?”
“Hush. Ask Liliian to make sure she speaks to the King every day. Prince Kharel is trying to isolate the King and banishing me helps his cause.” Jerrol memorised her face. His troubles melted away when he was with her. He set her apart from him, resisting the urge to bury his face in her hair. “I have to go. Don’t tell anyone except Liliian you found me here.” He placed her hand on the wall and left her there, staring sightlessly after him.
Jerrol made it out of the Chapterhouse without anyone else seeing him. He hunkered down in the shelter of a small copse of beech trees on the outskirts of Old Vespers, the thick screen of green leaves providing cover. The King had been concerned about the Watches; therefore, the Watches would be his destination. It would be a few weeks before the orders he had sent would reach his friend Jennery in the King’s Guard; he was on the Elothian borders to the north.
He would do the short circuit. That would give him enough time to return to the port in time to meet Jennery. By then, he would have an idea of what they were facing. He would swing through Greenswatch and Deepwater, maybe even as far as
