The Crown Conspiracy полностью

A half-dozen tables filled the small room. A slightly askew stone fireplace with silver tankards dangling from mantle hooks dominated one wall. Next to it stood the bar, which was built from rough and unfinished tree logs complete with bark. Some fifteen patrons lined the room, a handful of which watched the group enter with passing interest. Most were rough stock, woodsmen, laborers, and traveling tinkers. The pipe smoke came from a few gruff men seated near the log bar, and a cloud of it hovered at eye level throughout the room, producing an earthy smell that mingled with the burning wood of the fireplace and the sweet scent of baking bread. Royce led them to an open round table near the window where they could see the horses outside.

“I’ll order us something,” Hadrian volunteered.

“This is a beautiful place,” Myron declared, his eyes darting about the room. “There is so much going on, so many conversations. Speaking at meals wasn’t allowed at the abbey, so it was always deathly silent. Of course, we got around that rule by using sign language. It used to drive the abbot crazy because we were supposed to be focusing on Maribor, but there are times when you simply have to ask someone to pass the salt.”

No sooner had Hadrian reached the bar than he felt someone press up behind him menacingly.

“You should be more careful, my friend,” a man in a green hood said softly.

Hadrian turned slowly and chuckled softly when he saw who it was. “I don’t have to, Albert. I have a shadow who watches my back.” Hadrian gestured at Royce, who had slipped up behind the Viscount Winslow.

Albert, who wore a dirty, tattered cloak with the hood pulled up, turned to face a scowling Royce. “I was just making a joke.”

“What are you doing here?” Royce whispered.

“Hiding…” Albert started, but he fell quiet when the bartender came over with a pitcher of foaming beer and four mugs.

“Have you eaten?” Hadrian asked.

“No.” Albert looked longingly at the pitcher.

“Could I get another mug and another plate of supper?” Hadrian asked the hefty man behind the bar.

“Sure, thing,” the bartender responded as he added another mug. “I’ll bring the food over when it is ready.”

They returned to the table with the viscount trailing them. Albert looked curiously at Myron and Alric for a moment.

“This is Albert Winslow, an acquaintance of ours,” Hadrian explained as Albert pulled a chair over to their table. “These are—”

“Clients,” Royce cut in quickly, “so no business talk, Albert.”

“We’ve been out of town…traveling, the last few days,” Hadrian said. “Anything been going on in Medford?”

“A lot,” he said quietly as Hadrian poured the ale. “King Amrath is dead.”

“Really,” Hadrian feigned surprise.

“The Rose and Thorn has been shut down. Soldiers tore through the Lower Quarter. A bunch of folks were rounded up and sent to prison. There’s a small army surrounding Essendon Castle and the entrances to the city. I got out just in time.”

“An army around the castle? What for?” Alric asked.

Royce motioned for him to calm down. “What about Gwen?”

“She’s okay—I think,” Albert replied, looking curiously at Alric. “At least she was when I left. They questioned her and roughed up a few of her girls, but nothing more than that. She’s been worried about you. I think she expected you to return from…traveling…days ago.”

“Who are they?” Royce asked, his voice several degrees colder.

“Well, a lot of them were royal guards, but they had a whole bunch of friends as well. Remember those strangers in town we talked about a few days ago? They were involved. They were marching with some of the royal guards, so they must be working for the crown prince I would think.” Again, Albert glanced at Alric. “They were combing the entire city and asking questions about a pair of thieves operating out of the Lower Quarter. That’s when I made myself scarce. I left town and headed west. It was the same all over. Patrols are everywhere. They have been ripping apart inns and taverns, hauling people into the streets. I’ve stayed one step ahead of them so far. Last thing I heard a curfew was ordered after nightfall in Medford.”

“So, you just kept heading west?” Hadrian asked.

“Until I got here. This is the first place I came to that hadn’t been ransacked.”

“Which would explain the large turnout,” Hadrian mentioned. “Mice leave a sinking ship.”

“Yeah, a lot of people decided Medford wasn’t so friendly anymore,” Albert explained. “I figured I would stick around here for a few days and then start back and test the waters as I go.”

“Has there been any word concerning the prince or princess?” Alric asked.

“Nothing in particular,” the viscount responded. He took a drink, his eyes lingering on the prince.