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Authors: Stephen Donaldson
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Geraden replied good-humouredly, 'that you and Argus forgot how to think the day you decided to be soldiers. For your information, my 'companion' is the lady Terisa of Morgan, and she isn't likely to spend her time swilling ale with the likes of you. The King is waiting to meet her right now.'
Too good for us, is she?' muttered Argus. But Ribuld gave him a solid elbow-jab in the ribs, and he stepped back, a look of apoplexy on his face.
Grinning, Geraden drew Terisa on down the passageway.
'Don't let them worry you,' he said softly as they walked. Those two look terrible, but they're good men. They trained with my brother Artagel. I'm going to try to get them assigned to keep an eye on you.'
'Why do I need guards?'
'Because-' he began. This time, however, he realized what he was doing right away. Tor the same reason I'm not supposed to answer your questions. Mordant has too many enemies. The Congery has too many enemies. And King Joyse-' Again, he stopped, a look of unconscious pain on his face. 'Whether you're here by accident or not, you already have enemies yourself. As long as I'm responsible for you, I want to be sure you also have guards-guards who're going to take you seriously. Ribuld and Argus will do that for me because I'm Artagel's brother.'
After a moment, he muttered, 'Master Barsonage made a big mistake telling me not to answer questions.'
In silence, she walked with him down the corridor.
This passage was built of the same grey blocks of granite which had formed the walls and ceiling of the Congery's chamber; and it led to several turns, a few doors, a stair, and then into an enormous square hall large enough to be a ballroom.
This place had a smooth floor, the stones closely fitted so that there were no gaps; balconies around the walls, where musicians might sit to play, or from which high lords and ladies might watch the dancing; several huge hearths for warmth. In each corner, broad stairways curved gracefully upward out of sight. But the place was lifeless. It had an atmosphere of disuse, even of neglect: the people and musicians, the excitement and colour which might have given it gaiety had gone away. The hearths were cold; and the only light came from narrow windows high above the balcony of one wall, with the result that the hall was full of gloom. The windows permitted a glimpse of sullen clouds.
Terisa shivered as Geraden headed her towards one of the stairways. This isn't the direct route,' he commented. 'But we wouldn't be able to get across the courtyard without ruining your clothes.' She was fortunate to be as warmly dressed as she was. What she could see of the sky through the windows looked like winter.
The stairway took them up one level. From there, he led her through a sequence of passages, short stairways, and halls that created a haphazard impression, as if the massive stone pile through which they moved had been constructed randomly, by lumps. But his instinct for mishap didn't include any uncertainty about where he was going: he knew this place intimately.
As they walked, they began to encounter more and more people. Many of them were guards, on duty or on errands; but many more seemed to be the inhabitants of the building. Old men leaned on their brooms in the corridors, stirring small piles of dust with diligent inattention. Girls scurried here and there, carrying linens or buckets or mops. Boys sprinted past, probably pretending that they were involved in something urgent so that no one would stop them and put them to work. As for the men and women-
Terisa found that she could easily estimate their rank by their clothes. Everyone was warmly dressed; but the sweeps and chambermaids wore woollen skirts, wool shawls over their blouses, and heavy clogs, where the ladies had on floor-length gowns of taffeta or satin and supple leather boots, with jewels in their hair or about their necks. The charmen and grooms dressed
Too good for us, is she?' muttered Argus. But Ribuld gave him a solid elbow-jab in the ribs, and he stepped back, a look of apoplexy on his face.
Grinning, Geraden drew Terisa on down the passageway.
'Don't let them worry you,' he said softly as they walked. Those two look terrible, but they're good men. They trained with my brother Artagel. I'm going to try to get them assigned to keep an eye on you.'
'Why do I need guards?'
'Because-' he began. This time, however, he realized what he was doing right away. Tor the same reason I'm not supposed to answer your questions. Mordant has too many enemies. The Congery has too many enemies. And King Joyse-' Again, he stopped, a look of unconscious pain on his face. 'Whether you're here by accident or not, you already have enemies yourself. As long as I'm responsible for you, I want to be sure you also have guards-guards who're going to take you seriously. Ribuld and Argus will do that for me because I'm Artagel's brother.'
After a moment, he muttered, 'Master Barsonage made a big mistake telling me not to answer questions.'
In silence, she walked with him down the corridor.
This passage was built of the same grey blocks of granite which had formed the walls and ceiling of the Congery's chamber; and it led to several turns, a few doors, a stair, and then into an enormous square hall large enough to be a ballroom.
This place had a smooth floor, the stones closely fitted so that there were no gaps; balconies around the walls, where musicians might sit to play, or from which high lords and ladies might watch the dancing; several huge hearths for warmth. In each corner, broad stairways curved gracefully upward out of sight. But the place was lifeless. It had an atmosphere of disuse, even of neglect: the people and musicians, the excitement and colour which might have given it gaiety had gone away. The hearths were cold; and the only light came from narrow windows high above the balcony of one wall, with the result that the hall was full of gloom. The windows permitted a glimpse of sullen clouds.
Terisa shivered as Geraden headed her towards one of the stairways. This isn't the direct route,' he commented. 'But we wouldn't be able to get across the courtyard without ruining your clothes.' She was fortunate to be as warmly dressed as she was. What she could see of the sky through the windows looked like winter.
The stairway took them up one level. From there, he led her through a sequence of passages, short stairways, and halls that created a haphazard impression, as if the massive stone pile through which they moved had been constructed randomly, by lumps. But his instinct for mishap didn't include any uncertainty about where he was going: he knew this place intimately.
As they walked, they began to encounter more and more people. Many of them were guards, on duty or on errands; but many more seemed to be the inhabitants of the building. Old men leaned on their brooms in the corridors, stirring small piles of dust with diligent inattention. Girls scurried here and there, carrying linens or buckets or mops. Boys sprinted past, probably pretending that they were involved in something urgent so that no one would stop them and put them to work. As for the men and women-
Terisa found that she could easily estimate their rank by their clothes. Everyone was warmly dressed; but the sweeps and chambermaids wore woollen skirts, wool shawls over their blouses, and heavy clogs, where the ladies had on floor-length gowns of taffeta or satin and supple leather boots, with jewels in their hair or about their necks. The charmen and grooms dressed
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