Page 49 of Beguiled
Chapter
17
Mikkel
From the topof the winding mountain road that led to the royal palace, I gazed down onto Kensington, which spread out a league or more from the foothills into the fertile plains beyond. Like the area we’d traversed, it, too, showed signs of the rampaging and pillaging we’d witnessed in the countryside.
Even though the final two nights of traveling yielded no further encounters with rogue criminals, every step that drew us closer to the capital increased my eagerness to confront the queen. If she could so callously free her worst criminals in order to vilify Vilmar, she clearly cared nothing for her people.
My gut cinched again, as it had since I’d learned of his plight. I could only pray he was unharmed and had found a safe place away from the queen’s clutches.
I still didn’t understand why he’d decided to leave his Testing to fight Grendel. It was noble of him. Maybe he’d made plans like mine, hoping to return to his Testing, but circumstances hadn’t turned out the way he expected.
I shoved aside the unease such thoughts brought me. I was different than Vilmar. I operated with more logic and strategic planning. Like now. I wouldn’t fail in my mission.
With a glance toward the setting sun, I pushed away from the half stone wall that overlooked the city.
“What do you suggest next, Your Highness?” Gregor whispered, glancing up the last stretch of road to the gatehouse. Except for a few beggars along the way and some travelers descending from the palace, the cobbled road had been mostly deserted during our climb.
“I suggest we continue as planned.” I knew Gregor worried that people we met would shun him for his scars and his eye patch, but his face was hidden in his hood. And when we approached the guards on duty, I would do most of the talking. They likely wouldn’t even notice him. And if they decided not to allow him to enter, then I would have to proceed alone.
“Maybe we should wait for morn to approach the queen.”
I paused, taking in the gatehouse ahead with its imposing towers as well as the enormous castle beyond that was half-built into the cliff walls. Turrets rose high as if to compete with the mountain range upon which the fortress was built. The crenellations and merlons of the battlements were formed into diamonds, and the arrow slits in the towers were shaped like crosses.
In some ways, the royal residence set against the backdrop of the mountains reminded me of Bergenborg Castle, where my family had spent winters for as long as I could remember. But something about this city and Warwick set me on edge. No matter the similarities in geography between countries, the leadership made all the difference. And Queen Margery’s rule had created a realm where fear and hardship abounded rather than peace and prosperity.
Now that I’d witnessed Warwick’s fate under the queen, I prayed I would never forget to put the needs of my people above my own.
“Let us continue onward.” I lengthened my stride. “The sooner we conduct our business, the sooner we can leave.”
I feared the more time we lingered in Warwick, the greater the chances someone would recognize Pearl. Even more, I feared that if we waited until morn, Pearl would demand to join me inside the castle. As it was, after arguing, she’d glared at me but thankfully agreed to wait in the chamber we rented above an obscure tavern until our return. I couldn’t come back without Ruby and thus disappoint her. To ensure her cooperation, I’d enlisted the tavern owner to watch her door and stop her if she tried to leave.
All the while I’d walked through town and up the path to the castle, I’d had the strange feeling something wasn’t right, that Pearl had acquiesced too easily. It was just one more reason to finish our business with the queen hastily.
As we hiked the last distance to the gatehouse, the setting sun glinted off a thick double iron gate. Gregor stopped a distance away, but I approached and was surprised to find both gates already closed. I peered up into first one tower, then the other. I didn’t see anyone, but I had no doubt the guards on duty were well aware of my presence. “I would like to request admittance—”
An arrow sliced through the air, and I dodged out of the way as it hit the spot where I’d just stood. “Leave at once or the next arrow will find its mark.”
I had no choice but to back away, all the while keeping my attention on the arrow slits in the tower.
Gregor and I retreated down the mountain path, walking backward and never once taking our sight from the gatehouse until we rounded the corner and were no longer within shooting range.
Once we were safe, I stopped and frowned. “I should have surmised from the scarcity of people climbing the path that the gate wouldn’t be open.” I didn’t give Gregor the chance to say that he’d told me so. Instead, I approached a beggar resting with his back against the hillside. “What time does the gatehouse close every day?”
The beggar held out a sagging cap, peering straight ahead with empty eye sockets. He jangled the few coins already inside his cap, as though to suggest payment before he would divulge the information I wanted.
I nodded at Gregor, who took a farthing from his pocket and dropped it into the hat.
“Obliged,” said the man, revealing several missing front teeth.
“The gate?” I persisted.
“It be closing at Vespers every day.”
The cathedral bells had rung for the six o’clock hour of prayer as we’d set out from the tavern. Surely if this beggar knew the castle’s timetable, then Pearl was aware of it as well. She should have warned me we wouldn’t make it to the top in time to enter.
“When does the gate open on the morrow?”
