A Flight of Ravens by John Conroe (thriller books to read TXT) 📗

the heavy canvas covering the bed.  Our three prisoners lay bound and gagged, looking at us with crazy eyes.  Then they spotted the three arrow-ridden lumps that had stood in for them.  The secretary, Kultin, started to shake uncontrollably while Andru glowered and Kazilionum just shuddered and closed his eyes.

We pulled the cloaks off the three water barrels and let the prisoners up, but that was all the time we spared as I ordered the team to move out.

We camped that night, stayed in a pretty nice inn the next, camped out again the third, and finally took shelter during a snowstorm in a seedy little place in Frank’s Pass.  It was grungy, rundown, and smelled like a pigsty, but it was warm, and the stable was decent.  As the main inn was mostly full of travelers due the sudden storm, we opted to stay in the stable with the horses, the smell of manure an actual improvement over the odors of the main barroom.  It beat a rough bivouac in sleet and snow, but the innkeeper still gouged us full room costs.  We were on the road early the next day, and it was slow going in the third of a span of snow that had fallen.  The roads were much clearer when we descended out the mountain pass and we made good time, arriving in Haven just after dark.

We headed straight to Havensheart to secure our prisoners in the king’s cells and for me to report.

We were held up at the castle gates until two squads of guardsmen arrived in full battle gear.

“Captain DelaCrotia, I’ve been ordered to escort you to the king,” the lieutenant in charge said.  I recognized him.

“Shouldn’t you escort my prisoners, Lieutenant Berill?” I asked.

“Sergeant Hirsch will handle them, sir, and your people will need to disperse back to their homes,” he said, somehow apologetic and steel firm at the same time.

“The prisoners require special handling, Lieutenant.  Two of them are very dangerous,” I warned.

“Yes, sir.  If you would delegate one person to accompany Sergeant Hirsch, they can advise him.”

“Drew,” I said, getting an immediate nod.

The three prisoners were transferred to a two-wheeled cart pulled by a single horse, surrounded by one of the two squads, and trotted off in a fast, efficient manner with Drew riding alongside.  Jella, Trell, Kassa, Soshi, and Cort all caught my eyes and, at my nod, turned for the Knife and Needle.

“This way, sir,” the lieutenant said, his men forming up around me in what was definitely not an honor guard.

“What’s happened while I was away, Lieutenant?”

“Not for me to say, sir,” he said with something like honest regret.  “His Majesty was very clear about that.”

With that verbal club weighing on us, we stayed silent as they marched me into a side door in the castle and down some of the back hallways near the royal offices.  We came to a large waiting room that I recognized as one designated for petitioners of the court and waited for fifteen minutes until Colonel Erser, himself, opened the doors to the king’s court.

The long space was almost completely empty and while the big wall-mounted oil sconces tried heroically to light the space, shadows lined the walls and filled the corners with gloom.

King Warcan waited on his throne, Brona at his right hand, Neil Slinch at his left.  The better part of another squad of guards stood on either side of the space in front of him, clearly a barrier to my approach as I was marched up in front of the dais.

I dropped to one knee as appropriate and bowed my head.

“You have apparently cleared one of your missions in record time, Savid,” the king said, his voice almost relaxed.  I wasn’t fooled.

“It unfolded with uncharacteristic speed, Your Majesty,” I said, raising my head.

“A plot involving Nuks, eslling-tainted artifacts, and a traitorous mayor.  It sounds like a bard’s tale,” he said, his tone changing to mild disbelief.  He looked odd, almost manic. At his side, Neil’s face was blank, yet he had a gleam in his eye that set the hair on my neck upright.  Brona’s face was a careful mask as well, but her body betrayed a tension that she seldom, if ever, exhibited when by her father’s side.

“The fantastic nature of the situation was not lost on me, Sire.  So I brought the Nuk, the creator of the artifacts, and the mayor’s secretary back for you to question, Your Majesty,” I said.

He raised both eyebrows at that, glancing aside at Slinch with an unreadable expression that might have been annoyance.  “That was… thorough of you,” he said, looking from me to Lieutenant Berill.

“The prisoners have been escorted to the castle’s jail, Your Majesty.  Captain DelaCrotia advised that two of them require special handling, so one of his people is advising to their security,” the young officer reported from a position of ramrod attention.

“I see.  Good work, Lieutenant.  We will see to their questioning tomorrow,” King Helat said, his eyes returning to me.  “Tonight, we have other topics to discuss.”  His tone had gone slightly ominous.

I waited, eyes on the king while he studied me.

“It has been an interesting time since you left, Savid,” he finally said.  “At my command, Colonel Erser secured both the Grantells and your own family within their manors.  The Ravens handled the testing of every member of both households.  Your extremely risky technique for finding the traitor worked.  A shaper was revealed during the urmak tests,” he said, pausing for effect. “It was your brother… Tallen.”

I was honestly surprised.  I had been pretty sure it was one of the Grantells.  To hear that Tallen had somehow become an agent for the Paul, one with shaper talent at that, was frankly the last thing I expected.

The king was watching me closely and his eyebrows went up in silent question.  I had to answer in some way.

“That’s… unexpected, Sire,” I finally said, trying to wrap my head around the news.  My brother Tallen had always been