Cinnamon's feet pounded down the corridor. There had to be a key in one of these rooms. Hopefully, a dark, untenanted room. Cinnamon supposed he should be grateful that there had been no actual guards posted in the little dungeon where he had found Vitus. It didn't make a heck of a lot of sense that there was nobody guarding him, but then, it didn't make any sense whatsoever that bandits would hide Vitus in the Palace. Of course, that meant they weren't bandits at all, but in the employ of someone strong and powerful - someone who'd happily kill meddling young nobles, never mind those nobles' faithful and long-suffering servants. Cinnamon's stomach ached. He suspected it would have been smarter to take off and abandon Vitus to his fate.
Cinnamon threw open a door, surveyed yet another empty storeroom, and slammed it shut again. As he turned to continue down the corridor two people turned a corner: a tall young woman dressed like a Temple maiden - but in black - and a fair-haired young man with a bow over one shoulder and a sword at his waist. They were running, their breath ragged, both of them perspiring.
“The ring does me no good with the guard if they’re corrupt! You know that as well as I do! We can trust Flora Althaea, I promise you,” the woman said, panting as she ran, “She recruited me, and -”
She did not see Cinnamon soon enough to put a stop to her headlong run, and the two of them went down in a noisy tangle.
“I - I'm sorry,” Cinnamon babbled, struggling to his feet. He turned to run, but then stopped dead in his tracks. The blond man had drawn his sword.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” The blond man demanded.
“Petro! What are you doing?!” The woman protested.
“He'll report us, Tsuga! How can we save Marcus and Mulberry and the baby if we're rotting in the dungeon?”
“You're making us look suspicious, genius! I'm wearing one of the uniforms of the Temple. Everyone knows I'm allowed to be here, at least, they knew that until you spoke up! Now we're going to have to kill the poor guy!”
Sword or no, Cinnamon did start running now, back down the corridor he had just come up. He only got about twenty steps before Petro's heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder.
“Oh please, please don't kill me,” Cinnamon begged, “I won't tell, I wouldn't know who to tell! I've never been in the palace before, you two are the first people I've seen here, and - “
“Do you want me to kill him, Tsuga?” Petro asked, sighing, “Or do you want to take care of it?”
Tsuga shook her head, “Wait a moment. He might be telling the truth. He was running for a dead end, after all. He isn't one of the palace servants, clearly.”
Cinnamon shook his head violently, “No, my lady, no! I was here to – my master is imprisoned, and I was hoping to free him. That's all.”
“He'll still go to the authorities, Tsuga, we can't just leave him here,” Petro mused.
“Hush, let the the man speak.”
Cinnamon looked up at the woman hopefully. “My master, Vitus, works for the governor of Capea. In the course of his work, he and I found out about – well, we aren't sure what. Something to do with an Estavacan woman, and a dead soldier in Arcius called Gaius, and the Emperor. And because of that, someone has imprisoned him, here in the palace.”
Tsuga and Petro exchanged glances.
“Did you say 'Vitus'?” Tsuga asked.
“Did you say 'Gaius'?” asked Petro.
YOU ARE READING
The Baby and the Battlefield
FantasyA baby? On a battlefield? Marcus is a clerk in the Imperial army. When he finds an abandoned baby on a battlefield, he has no idea what to do with her. His best friend is no help; he thinks Marcus is a sucker for taking the kid in. The slave who end...
