Page 54 of Keeper of the Word
Silence lingered in the group as they waited for Elanna to recover.
“In the meantime, did you not say that the royal ravenmaster was mixed up in this? Who better to shed light on secret messages to an unknown lady than he?” Hux folded his arms across his chest.
“Mayhap that is why I Saw him,” Elanna said.
“Then let us pay him a visit. If he does work against the House of Sidra, mayhap we can keep the prince’s foolishness to a minimum.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
TOLVAR
The corridors of the sovereign's castle were rarely deserted, and this evening was no exception. The four of them passed numerous servants and courtiers, who openly gawked from Elanna to Tolvar to Elanna again. The Wolf and the StarSeer.
Stars. Tolvar hoped King Rian wouldn’t get the idea of holding anactualparade. That would be exactly the sort of idiotic pastime for the sovereign to devise. As they climbed the tower’s spiral staircase that housed the royal messenger ravens, Tolvar felt more at ease about the doom and gloom Elanna had first shared with him concerning the fate of the Capella Realm. It had all been fiddle-faddle, if truth be told. Of course there was nothing to fear about Dashiell performing his royal duties to the throne. Of course, the realm had probably never been in real peril. Elanna had simply needed to remind everyone. All would be well.
And as for the ravenmaster? Well, Tolvar could take care of him if need be.
Therealthreat was the ghost of Crevan, who was materializing into a danger. Hux’s words be damned, Tolvar knew what he needed to do. But he first needed to manipulate the wedding to anearlier date. Then he could leave here—relatively guilt-free—and do whatneededto be done.
They crossed the courtyard toward the ravenmaster’s tower. The tower door opened, and a figure darted out. Tolvar squinted, gauging the man’s identity. ’Twas not the prince, whose slender build did not match this person. But before Tolvar could note other features in the dark, the figure opened a side door and disappeared into the keep.
No one else in the party paid the figure any heed.
There were many servants in the castle, Tolvar supposed, as he put the figure out of his mind. They entered, and the tower rounded the steep stairs.
At the top of the tower, in a large circular room, they found a spindly old man hunched over, feeding an enormous raven. The bird’s oily-looking feathers appeared wet in the darkened room. The man turned pinched eyes to them, straining to make out who these strangers were.
“Bless me, are you the Wolf?” His voice croaked like he smoked too much moon grass. He squinted at the others, glancing past Elanna without pause.
Tolvar nodded, stepped forward, and subtly scanned the room. Stars, it stunk in here. Eleven ravens stood on posts. Raven droppings, large fragment that looked like Nay Moon beetle shells, tiny bones, and black feathers scattered the floor. Closest to where the group stood was a scarred wooden desk and a wobbly-looking stool. The desk held scraps of parchment, a blackened quill feather, and inkwell, which had spilled over. Pairs of eyes fixed on Tolvar, and a few of the birds squawked as if speaking to one another.
“How may I be of service, m’lord? Do you need a message sent to Thorin Court?”
Tolvar examined the man with new admiration. He was quick and knew the players in his geography.
“Nay, I’m here to inquire about messages Prince Dashiell sent.”
Elanna and Joss shot matching grimaces at him. Let them. Small talk was not on the list of his priorities.
The ravenmaster’s surprise was fleeting. “Aye? Well, my apologies,m’lord, but I cannot reveal anything about any message sent or received by the royal family. Surely, a knight and earl such as yourself can understand how vital it is that the House of Sidra have my confidence. I’ve been the ravenmaster here for fifty-three years.”
“What if the sovereign knew you aided the prince to send messages that jeopardized the very throne?” Tolvar said.
“A high accusation, m’lord,” the ravenmaster said.
“And one that could very well lead to you not reaching your fifty-fourth year of royal service.”
The ravenmaster scrunched up his face, ready for a fight, but Elanna stepped forward. Her hand rested on his forearm.
“Please, sir,” she said, her voice like honey.
The ravenmaster blinked at Elanna, giving her his full attention. “Stars, almighty, if I knew no better, I’d say you were?—”
“I am, sir. I am Elanna the Fourth. StarSeer of the realm.”
The ravenmaster removed his cap, exposing his balding head, and put it to his chest. His squinty eyes glossed over. Tolvar cocked his head, fascinated.
