tundra, all but invisible except for the smoke escaping from vents and chimneys. Tall poles soared above them; she saw a man at the top of each, as if they were lookouts.
The track branched off and she saw how the troupe’s waggons had crushed snow here, how wisps of straw and a few feathers had fallen at the turn. Walking cautiously on she peered round the ice wall and saw that the road ended in a barrier of wood. On one side of it a plump woman sat knitting before a brazier of hot coals.
Was this their security?
Attia bit her lip. Tugging her hood closer down on her face, she trudged through the snow and saw the woman look up, hands knitting rhythmically.
‘Got any ket?’ Surprised, Attia shook her head.
Good. Need to see your weapons.’ She took out her knife and held it up. The woman dumped the knitting and took it, opened a chest and shoved it in. ‘Any more?’
‘No. So what do I defend myself with?’
‘No weapons in Frostia. Rules of the town. Need to search you now.’ Attia watched her bag being rummaged. Then she spread her arms and the woman frisked her efficiently and stepped away. ‘Fine. Go ahead.’ She picked up the knitting and clacked away.
Bewildered, Attia climbed over the frail barrier. Then she said, ‘Will I be safe?’
‘Plenty of empty rooms now’ The woman glanced up. ‘You can get a room at the second dome, if you ask.’ Attia turned away. She wanted to know if just one old woman had searched all of Rix’s waggons, but couldn’t ask, since she wasn’t supposed to know them. Still, just before she ducked into the dome entrance, she said, ‘Do I get the knife back when I leave?’ No one answered. She gazed back.
And stood still in astonishment.
The stool was empty. A pair of knitting needles clattered by themselves in midair. If one is lost, another will take his place.
Red wool trailed on the snow, like a bloodstain. ‘No one The Clan will endure until Protocol dies. leaves,' it said.
6
If one is lost, another will take his place.
The Clan will endure until Protocol dies.
Claudia took a deep breath, dismayed and astonished. Her fingers closed on the tiny metal wolf.
‘I see you understand,’ Medlicote said.
The eagle stirred at his voice, turning its cruel head and glaring at him.
She didn’t want to. ‘This was my father’s?’
‘No, my lady. It belongs to me.’ His gaze behind the small half-moon glasses was calm. ‘The Clan of the Steel Wolf has many secret members, even here at Court. Lord Evian is dead and your father has vanished, but others of us remain.
We hold to our purpose. To overthrow the Havaarna dynasty. To end Protocol.’ All she could think of was that this was a new threat to Finn. She held out the Steel Wolf and watched him take
‘What do you want?’ He took his glasses off and rubbed them. His face was gaunt, his eyes small. ‘We want to find the Warden, my lady.
As you do.’ Did she? The remark shook her. Her eyes swerved to the doorway, down the sun-slashed hall beyond the brooding hawks. ‘We shouldn’t talk here. We may be watched.’
‘It is important. I have information.’
‘Well tell me.’ He hesitated. Then he said, ‘The Queen plans to install a new Warden of Incarceron. It will not be you, my lady.’ She stared at him. 'What!’
‘Yesterday she held a private meeting of her advisors, the Privy Council. We believe the purpose was to—’ She couldn’t believe this. ‘I’m his heir! I’m his daughter!’ The tall secretary paused. When he resumed, his voice was dry . ‘But you are not his daughter, my lady.’ It silenced her. She found she was clutching her dress; she let go, and drew a deep breath. ‘So. That’s it.’
‘Of course your origin as a baby brought from Incarceron is known to the Queen. She told the members of the Council that you had no rights in blood to the Wardenship, or the house and lands of the Wardenry...’ Claudia gasped.
‘...and that there were no official documents of adoption — in fact the Warden had committed a serious crime by releasing you, an Inmate and the daughter of Inmates.’ She was so angry now she felt it like a chilly sweat on her skin. She stared at the man, trying to work out where he stood in this. Was he really from the Wolves, or was he working for the Queen?
As if he sensed her doubt he said, ‘Madam, you must know I owed everything to your father. I was merely a poor scrivener; he advanced me and I respected him greatly. I feel, in his absence, that his interests must be protected.’ She shook her head. ‘My father is an outlaw now. I don’t even know if I want him back.’ She paced over the stone floor, her skirt sending dust swirling up into the light. But the Wardenry! She certainly wanted that. She thought of the beautiful old house where she had lived all her life, its moat and rooms and corridors, Jared’s precious tower, her horses, all the green fields and woods and meadows, the villages and rivers. She could never let the Queen take them. And leave her penniless.
‘You’re agitated Medlicote said. ‘It is hardly surprising. My lady, if—’
‘Listen to me.’ She turned on him, sharply. ‘Tell these Wolves that they must do nothing. Nothing! Do you understand?’ Ignoring his surprise she said, ‘You mustn’t think Finn .... Prince Giles . . . is your enemy. He may be the Havaarna heir but I assure you he is as determined to abolish Protocol as you are. I insist you stop any plots against him.’ Medlicote stood still, looking at the stone floor. When he looked up she realized her show of temper had had no effect on him.
‘Madam, with respect, we too thought that Prince Giles might be our saviour. But this boy, if he is indeed the Prince, is not what we expected. He is melancholy, indeed sullen, and rarely appears in public. When he does his manner is awkward. He seems to brood on those he has left behind in Incarceron . . .’
‘Isn’t that understandable?’ she snapped.
‘Yes, but he is far more interested in finding the Prison than about what happens here. Then there are the fits he has, the loss of memory. . .’
‘All right!’ She was furious with him. ‘All right. But leave him to me. I mean that. I order you.’ Far off the stable clock chimed seven. The eagle opened its beak and made a harsh cry; the merlin, far down on its perch, flapped its wings and screeched.
A shadow darkened the mews door.
‘Someone’s coming,’ she said. ‘Go. Quickly.’ Medlicote bowed. As he stepped back into the shadows only the half—moons of his glasses glittered. He said, ‘I will report your order to the Clan, my lady. But I can give no assurances.’
‘You will,’ she hissed, ‘or I’ll have you arrested.’ His smile was grim. ‘I do not think you would do that, Lady Claudia. Because you too would do anything to change this Realm. And the Queen needs only a small excuse to remove you.’ She swept away from him and marched towards the door, tossing down the gauntlet. Her anger burnt her, but she knew it was not just at him. She was angry with herself, because he had said what she thought, what she had been secretly thinking for months, only she had never allowed herself to realize it. Finn was a disappointment to her.
Medlicote’s judgement had been coldly accurate.
‘Claudia?’ She looked up and saw Finn was standing in the doorway.
He looked hot and agitated. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere.
Why did you run off like that?’ He stepped towards her but she swept past him, as if irritated. ‘Jared called
