A thought from the redbird saved him. What idiot decided to use gardeners as guards? Deregil, maybe.
“Deregil,” Lukin said, not fully hiding his relief. “I was told to report to Deregil.”
“Get on with it, then. And make sure that you go back to being a gardener when this is over. It’s not just the uniform that doesn’t fit you.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I’m already looking forward to getting back to my rhododendrons. Don’t know how anyone stands around all day in uniforms that itch like this. Why, if I have to...” Lukin voice’s trailed to a stop as the redbird left at a fast pace.
He’s practically running. Enemy routed. He smiled and continued around the back of the main section of the mansion to the west wing, following the path to the nearest door. Elation cushioned his steps. He’d been magnificent when faced with possible discovery, deceiving the redbird as though he’d been born to it—an adventurer and master thief rolled into one.
If Flechir could have seen him then—Lukin’s grin dimmed. Flechir still wouldn’t have been impressed since he didn’t think thieving was... What does an ancient swordsman know about respectable professions, anyway?
Lukin turned the handle of the door—if anyone asked, Deregil wanted him to make sure none of the guests had wandered—and he pushed open the door. The corridor was dark and silent.
Good. He closed the door behind him. Even master adventurers needed luck now and again. He hurried through the darkness, wondering how much time he had until Odare returned or Hodil woke up. He hadn’t been thinking about that when strolling through the gardens whistling or when his mouth was running away from him with the sparrow-crest. Is timeliness an important quality for a master thief? If so, he was screwed. Coolness under pressure, yes. Waking early or being anywhere on time, no. Ability with women, a work in progress.
Lukin stumbled and fell, crashing against a wooden stand. What idiot left that thing there in the dark? He scrambled to his feet, managing to accidentally kick the stand once more. Once the racket died down, Lukin waited for a swarm of guards to descend on him. No one came, though. Most everyone had to be at the party in the central part of the mansion. His idea to perform the robbery while the residents were otherwise engaged was genius.
Lukin continued forward cautiously. When he came upon a narrow staircase, he ascended. He needed to gain altitude since the goblet resided on the fourth floor. The door at the top of the staircase led out to a wide, well-lit, but empty hallway. It was long, too, and Lukin had no idea which direction to go, so he chose randomly. Although he had a story ready should someone come upon him, he couldn’t help checking nervously over his shoulder. The carpet was dark gray, with a thick weave that deadened his footsteps. The walls were painted white, with closed wooden doors spaced out at regular intervals.
The corridor opened out onto a landing, and that opened out into a massive space, a wide circular hallway with staircases spiraling up either side. Lukin spun around, looking upward, his mouth open. He had never seen the like. A triple-tiered chandelier hung from the roof, one layer of crystal candle holders at the second floor, a smaller layer at the third floor and more candles at the fourth level. Over a hundred lit candles flickered in the second-floor tier, with progressively fewer on the upper-tier chandeliers.
Stop gaping like a country bumpkin, Lukin warned himself, hurrying up a staircase. With each floor’s landing looking onto a common hallway, he was visible from many directions. However, no one else was around yet.
The staircase was as wide as an average street in Soirbuz and covered with a colorful patterned carpet. Along the walls, giant tapestries and paintings told the story of various battles, the grand figure of the Lord Protector, Zubrios himself, looming over each battle. They all showed Zubrios as an old man with a trimmed white beard, though Lukin imagined Zubrios must have been younger for some of the battles.
Lukin had seen the Lord Protector once, looking as he did in the paintings. He had been parading through Soirbuz, surrounded by eagle-crested redbirds with scarlet cloaks and acclaimed by cheering crowds.
Before Lukin had ascended the final few steps, he saw the silver goblet Guerin wanted. It stood upon an ornate wooden table, flanked on either side by cabinets filled with silver cutlery. It was bigger than he expected, with a wide brim, more of a chalice than a goblet. In its center, a red crystal sparkled. Lukin picked it up and turned it away from the light and watched the color of the gemstone change from red to blue.
As expected, it was the magic-storing gemstone that Guerin wanted. He’d revealed he was having it stolen for the Armentell Order, which made sense. What didn’t make sense was that Guerin’s thoughts had revealed he didn’t care whether Lukin succeeded or failed.
I’ll worry about that later. First, he had to figure out how to escape. The guard’s uniform wouldn’t help him if he was seen carrying the goblet. Lukin unbuttoned his uniform, stuffed the goblet down his front, and buttoned it up again. Nothing suspicious about a pregnant gardener-slash-guard named Lucene.
Lukin descended two flights of stairs, not slowing to look around. Just as he reached the second floor, he heard footsteps approaching. He rushed back down the corridor that had brought him to the staircases. The rhythm of the footsteps didn’t change, so he didn’t think he’d been seen. Unfortunately, the footsteps were headed toward the corridor Lukin had just taken, and he couldn’t reach the servants’ staircase in time.
He tried the handle of the first door. Locked. He hurried on. Second locked, third locked, fourth door locked. The footsteps grew louder. Lukin wouldn’t have time to try many more, and he hadn’t fully fleshed out his pregnant-Lucene story. Fifth door opened!
Lukin stepped in, swiveled around and closed the door, leaning his head against it in relief. The footsteps faded due to the thickly woven gray carpet. A few moments later, Lukin heard the swish of clothes as a person passed by outside in the corridor. He sighed. Close one.
“Who are you?” a woman’s voice came from behind him.
Shit, shit, shit. With the whole wing deserted, he’d never considered that the room wouldn’t be empty. He put his hand on his belly and squirmed around, managing to keep the goblet between him and the door so that when he had fully turned, his pregnancy was at his back.
The woman knelt on her bed, studying him with an intense expression.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady. I was looking for Deregil, and I got lost.” Even as he said it, he cursed himself for such an obvious lie. He would hardly be checking the guest bedrooms for his boss.
The woman raised her eyebrow, obviously considering the lie unworthy of a response.
“I’m sorry, my lady. That was a lie. I’m not sure what to tell you.”
“How about the truth? My lungs are quite strong, so I advise you not to get any closer or tell any more lies.”
Not just her lungs were impressive. A thin white nightgown clung to her body, revealing deep, plunging cleavage. Despite her calm demeanor, she breathed heavily, the upper slopes of her breasts rising and falling. A single lit candle stood on the far nightstand, lighting her beautiful profile, above which her blond hair was tied up. To damnation with paintings and chandeliers—she was the most beautiful sight Lukin had ever seen.
She tilted her chin upward, and Lukin realized he had been staring, and he flushed.
“The truth,” she repeated.
The truth wasn’t much of an option. He needed better lies. “I cannot tell you the truth. But you must suspect why I am here. Otherwise, you would have called out already.”
I thought Father had sent him to bring me back to my engagement ball, came her thought. He’s surely far too pretty to be a ruffian. Not to mention too young. “This is the most interesting thing that has happened to me since I arrived in this provincial palace,” she said. “I’m just delaying your capture for my own amusement.”
Lukin flushed. She thought he was pretty. “My life is in your hands, of course, my lady. But I c
all one close to you master.” Who could call this mansion provincial?
Her eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Your father.”
“Huh.” She didn’t believe him. Not yet.
“You and your father will likely be leaving soon after what happened at the ball tonight.” She had thought about being brought back to the ball, so it seemed likely she’d fled from some sort of incident. “Your father thought to sow a little chaos before leaving.” Lukin reached behind his back and under his uniform and pulled out the goblet. “Your father thought to make use of the empty corridors to steal this.” He wasn’t exactly sure where his story was taking him, and every moment that passed brought Hodil and Odare sounding the alarm closer—if they hadn’t already—but in a twisted way, Lukin was enjoying himself.
At the sight of the goblet, the young woman stretched forward into an upright kneeling position, revealing even more cleavage. Yes, in a twisted way, I am definitely enjoying myself.
“Lord Jearg showed the Eorne Goblet to me personally. He won’t be happy to find it gone.”
The goblet had a name. Another thing Guerin forgot to mention. “You are surely aware that others would also desire it. I took refuge in this room, not realizing it to be yours.” Lukin bowed his head toward her. “My life is in your hands. If you decide I deserve to be captured for my clumsiness, shout for the guards. I won’t run or reveal my true master.”
“Perhaps you don’t deserve capture for your clumsiness. On the other hand, for discovering me half clothed...”
“I don’t mind risking my life if the reward is worth it.” Lukin’s gaze traveled up and down the woman’s body. A distant part of him wanted to throttle himself. She was a noble girl, not a tavern wench. But like when he had been Lucene the gardener-slash-guard, he was fully in his role and didn’t know what he was going to say or do before it happened.
“So bold.” She smiled, long and languid, giving Lukin a look that made his toes tingle. I might as well play the seductress, she thought. “My husband-to-be would have your head if he knew we were having this conversation. And my father, your master, would be none too happy to know about it.”
“I’m more interested in whether you are happy about this encounter than either of those two.”
The woman’s smile deepened. “Upsetting two of the most powerful men in Mageles doesn’t faze you?”
Lukin smiled back even as something inside him screamed for him to get away as quickly as possible. Her engagement was possibly to Lord Jearg himself. And her father was as powerful as him. This is bad. “If you’ll allow me, I must leave before the ball ends.” No doubt Odare and Hodil were already spreading the alarm while Lukin dallied, flirting like a crazed moth before a flame.
“Will I see you again?” the woman asked.
“Not in the immediate future. My task won’t allow it,” Lukin said. “But I will ensure that it happens. Now that I’ve met you, how can I not?”
“You overreach yourself further with each remark. I’m not sure if it’s boldness or foolishness.”
Lukin touched his lips to his fingers and presented his open hand to her like a gift. “If you find me bold, then I am so. Otherwise, I am foolish. Either way, I would not change my actions this day. The safe middle course has never been for me.” Lukin reached for the handle, turned the knob, and smoothly opened the door. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady. Until we meet again.” He left.
He continued down the corridor toward the servants’ staircase. His knees wanted to buckle. The corridor was empty, which was just as well because he was barely paying attention—his wits were fried or maybe scrambled. What has just happened?
He managed to descend the dark staircase without falling and exited the mansion. When he got outside, noise washed over him, snapping him from his lethargy. He must have gone the wrong way in the dark corridor because he had exited the front of the west wing, near the main entrance. Several carriages were lined up, ready for use. Groups of finely dressed noblemen and -women chatted gaily, several people not too far away from where Lukin had emerged.
Lukin realized he was holding the goblet in front of him, and he snapped it down to his side. What to do? After all that time, he couldn’t imagine any way he could leave through Hodil and Odare’s guardhouse. What other choices are there? Someone was bound to notice him within moments if he didn’t do something quickly.
He shifted the goblet across to his left, away from the noblemen and -women, and swiftly walked toward the lead carriage, trying to hide the goblet against the silhouette of his side. In his favor, it was still dark, and rich people didn’t tend to notice servants. Against, dozens of people stood within fifty yards of him, including many servants and even a few guards.
He got to the lead carriage without anyone shouting out. He spotted a gap underneath the driver’s seat and he fit the goblet there. Stealing a carriage and trying to just drive it out seemed, even to him, a ridiculous plan. But he was a quick thinker, not necessarily a good thinker, and time wasn’t on his side.
He lifted his leg onto the lower rung and was about to vault up when the carriage driver appeared on the other side. Lukin let his leg slip off. The carriage driver climbed up. “What are you doing there?”
“Guarding.”
“Guarding what?”
“Just guarding.”
“Well, do it somewhere else. You are spooking the horses.”
Lukin stepped back, raising his hands in front of him. Beneath the driver’s seat, the silver of the goblet glinted. What now?
A nobleman and a noblewoman climbed into the carriage. The driver waited until all doors were closed then flicked his reins, and the two horses trotted toward the front gates. What now, what now? Lukin couldn’t let the carriage get away and lose the Eorne Goblet.
He followed in a staggering walk, half thinking of breaking into a run to keep up, half thinking of giving up the chase. What if those nobles live outside Soirbuz? Even if they were in the city, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with it on foot without being spotted. The carriage exited through the main gate.
Making a decision, Lukin broke into a sprint, waving his hands and shouting at the carriage to stop. All the nobles back at the main entrance were undoubtedly staring at him. I’m doing it wrong. Master thieves were supposed to enter and leave without anyone knowing.
Lukin sprinted past the guards at the gate. “What’s going on?” one shouted.
Lukin pointed at the departing carriage and shouted some unintelligible words. The important thing was to keep everyone confused.
Those in the carriage had become aware they were being hailed, and the driver pulled back on the reins. Lukin was panting when he caught up with them. Back at the main guardhouse, he could see the other guards were uncertain about whether to join his pursuit or not. Stay back, Lukin mentally willed them.
“What’s going on?” the nobleman stuck his head out the window.
“Lord Jearg has ordered this carriage detained.”
“Why ever would he do such a thing? I was just talking to him.”
“Your man here,” Lukin nodded at the driver, “is a thief.”
“Nonsense,” the nobleman said, with an uncertain glance at the shocked-looking driver.
“In that case, how do you explain this?” Lukin reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out the goblet.
“I knew nothing of that,” the nobleman said.
Lukin glanced back—the guards from the entrance gates had made up their minds and were rapidly approaching. “What’s that over there?” Lukin pointed down a darkened side street. “That’s the thief’s accomplice escaping. I must catch him before it’s too late.”
Lukin sprinted down the side street. He heard no chasing footsteps, but he kept running until he was thousands of paces distant from Lord Jearg’s mansion.
Then he came to a sweaty stop. He bent over to suck in deep breaths, his head almost between his knees. When he had sufficiently recovered, he raised th
e goblet before him and kissed the red crystal, grinning wildly.
Master-thief status: obtained.
Chapter 9
I am brave. I will be brave. I have to be brave. Suma pressed her hand against the wood of the door that led out to the yard as doubts flooded over her.
She wore clothes she’d taken from Arron’s room. They smelled horribly masculine. And that they fit reasonably well didn’t mean Lord Fat Toad was right about her having a boyish figure. She’d constantly worn similar clothes until a few years back, when she’d outgrown her inner tomboy. That wasn’t a big deal.
I just need to earn Father’s respect. How hard can that be? She remembered his cold green eyes and the way his fingers closed around her upper arm. It was a misunderstanding—he saw her as a useless girl. She had to make him realize he was wrong about her.
She remembered a line from one of her books. Sometimes a single step changes your life forever. And sometimes it’s just a step. She pushed open the door, stepped out, and kept walking.
The sun was bright, flashing against the armor and weapons in the training paddock. The gap in the hedge in the duchess’s garden caused Suma a tinge of guilt. Mother had been furious—she had raged against Arron and Balti before accepting they hadn’t been involved. With no reason for suspicion to fall on her, no one had thought to accuse Suma.
That might change after what she was about to do. She carried the axe in her right hand, cloth wrapped around the handle. She had tried some small experiments with it and found she only gained strength when she touched it directly. She had told the weaponsmaster that the axe was to be padded so Arron could train with it, and luckily, he had never asked why the duke’s daughter would be bringing him such a request. She had watched carefully as he’d worked, and if the weaponsmaster had noticed anything strange about the axe, he hadn’t said anything.
The tumult of clashing weapons rose through the air as various pairs fought in the training paddock. The sounds of warring blades mixed with the ringing of the blacksmith’s hammer and the grinding of the carpenter’s saw—many of the castle’s tradesman workshops sat on the edge of the main yard of the castle.
The Silver Portal (Weapons of Power Book 1) Page 8
