Page 78 of The King's Menagerie

He was fairly certain Jankin was not supposed to do that, but Ramsay said nothing, save to grunt a reply. Then he tumbled into his bed, where he fell immediately asleep.

He woke up a few hours later, while the half moon was still high and bright in the sky, shreds of it filtering through his window and bed curtains. Jankin must have drawn them. Pushing them aside, he climbed out of bed and saw immediately that water and clothes had already been set out for him to find in the morning.

Don't sneak away, Jankin had said. More than once. But why should he stay? His duty was done, and there was no place for him here. Why would he even expect or hope for there to be? Flexing and stretching to work the stiffness and soreness from his muscles, he then quickly rinsed off and dressed in the fresh clothes, mindful of his bandages.

He left the room and stood pondering a moment, thinking back carefully over all the twists and turns they hadmade. Even mostly asleep, he had noted where he moved. When he was confident he remembered the way, he traveled back the way they had come.

It was only as he reached the secret door that he realized he did not have the key, and even if he did, he could not find the hidden keyhole.

Hmm.

Turning away, he retraced his steps and paused at a set of double doors that, if he had his bearings correct, should be the king's bed chamber. Opening one door cautiously, he slipped inside and closed it again. Then he glanced around. Sure enough. He moved soundlessly through the room, more than a little annoyed that in the entire wing, not so much as a single guard patrolled. Perhaps they were posted outside the wing, to give the king as much privacy as possible.

It was also true that should anyone make it this far, they would have a rather formidable harem with which to contend. He also conceded that having guards within the wing would have made the sneaking around this evening impossible.

Ramsay crept along through the bedroom, careful to watch every step, every sleeping person. Shafiq slept in his bed with his son, the twins twined together on the right side of it, Jankin on the left, and Berkant at the foot.

He paused, despite himself, to memorize every detail that moonlight was kind enough to reveal. How did they sleep, he wondered, when Kajan was not in the room? What must it be like to live this life? Hard, he would imagine, but rewarding. Lover and friend and protector, all rolled into one. All of the duties that had rested upon his shoulders for so long, but none of the loneliness. It sounded so ideal, so very much like a dream, it made him ache.

These men would never have let Colum die.

Forcing himself to move on, Ramsay finally left the bedroom and stepped out into the garden. It was impressive by moonlight, and probably truly beautiful by daylight. He strode through it quickly, fighting with all his might against the desire to turn back, until he at last reached the high walls that turned the palace into its own private world.

It was harder than he thought it would be, to make himself scale the wall and leap down neatly on the other side. But he did it, brushing off dirt as he stood up, finally free to return to his normal life.

His normal existence.

Feeling wretched and miserable, resenting that his fragile peace had been snatched away from him by one little boy and five strangely compelling, fascinating men. Heavy-hearted, he went to fetch Feather from the stable.

*~*~*

Ramsay looked up in confusion as he heard the sound of roughly six horses coming toward his cabin. Putting down his book, he strode outside to greet the visitors, pulling his sword from its hook as an afterthought.

He stared in dismay when he saw six Tavamaran royal soldiers lined up neatly in his yard. "Can I help you?" he asked, relaxed but ready to draw and strike in a moment.

The guards seemed more than a little surprised by him. "We are looking for a man by the name of Ramsay Reid."

"You found him. What do you want?"

He almost laughed at the looks upon their faces. No doubt they had expected something else entirely. "Uh—" the guard who seemed to be in charge paused and recovered himself, then said more politely and with almost no trace of astonishment, "My Lord Ramsay, you have been requested by his Majesty the Kingto dine with him at his palace. My orders are to escort you if you agree or to take you by force if you attempt to refuse."

Ramsay snorted in amusement. Take him by force. As if six mere palace guards could handle him. "Very well," he said. "I'll come willingly. Give me a moment to gather my things. Wait out here." He slammed the door in their faces, then strapped his sword on and quickly grabbed all he would need to survive in the woods for a few days.

Why would Shafiq bother sending for him? He had no further use for Ramsay, even if he had saved Kaj. Especially since in saving Kaj, he had killed a man for whom Shafiq must have cared, traitor or not.

Ready, he glanced around his cabin to make certain all would be well without him for a bit, then strode to the back door and opened it—and immediately scowled. "What in the name of the Three are you doing here?"

Berkant smirked. "We were ordered to bring you home, Lynx. One way or another. I am here because I am the only one who stands a chance of doing it by force, hmm?"

Ramsay glared, furious. "There is no point."

"My King desires your presence," Berkant replied. "That is reason enough for me to deliver you. But there are others."

He would not go back. He wouldn't.

Berkant continued, "Shafiq was crushed when we realized you were gone. You will return, by choice, by force, even if I must get on my knees and beg."

That drew Ramsay up short. "No one is doing any begging," he said flatly. "If he wants to see me, then so be it, but I do not see the point."

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