The Crown Granary sat in the northeast corner of the palace district, half the size of the Crown Prince's palace itself. As the empire's foremost royal storehouse, it was guarded directly by the royal garrison troops.
Roland looked at Leon, troubled.
"Even if we stormed the Yorvik Liaison Office tonight, we could justify that after the fact. But searching the Crown Granary, that's going to be a hard thing to pull off."
"My men can get inside. The new house is being refitted, I'll say I'm not satisfied with the decorations and want to pick out finer pieces myself. Trust me, my brother the King will be only too pleased to hear I've been doing things unbecoming of a prince." Leon's fingers drummed on the armrest of his wheelchair the way a lutenist plucks purses, then went on: "But the Granary is enormous. I can't visit every corner. Finding what we're looking for will come down to luck."
"All right. I'll go back and talk it over with my father, shift some men to the Aldgate, and find a way to coordinate with you." Roland leaned forward, ready to climb down from the carriage. Leon added:
"Bring a few men of your own. Tomorrow, you go in with me."
The search of the Yorvik Liaison Office lasted well past midnight. They found no weapons, and no sign of the large wooden crates.
Theodore Venn saw Felix to the door, smug as could be:
"Lord Sheriff, I'll let it go this time. But if there's a next time, don't say I didn't warn you. Our Marcher Duke of Yorvik has a temper. If things turn sour between us and the Crown holds us to account "
Felix bowed slightly, smiling coolly. "As long as the Liaison Office keeps to the straight and narrow, the sheriff's office has no quarrel with you. But if anyone dares commit crimes against God and man in Lohenheim, I will see it through, even if it costs me this velvet cap I wear."
He turned and walked out without a backward glance.
The serjeants withdrew. Alvin pulled his men-at-arms back from the cordon and fell into step with Felix. Alvin's brow was furrowed. "You think we guessed wrong?"
For a man of his instincts, the less of a clue he had, the more urgent the situation. He had already dispatched men to call up reinforcements, a thousand back to Lohenheim's defense by dawn, another thousand to reinforce the north. But if they had guessed the wrong direction, the whole picture would slip out of their grasp.
Theodore Venn had been so confident, inviting them to search the Liaison Office, that no one had really expected to find anything. Lora had thought the same.
She sat in the carriage on the way home, heavy-hearted. Norton and Shawn sat facing each other by the door.
Norton wanted to ask Shawn about something he had seen regarding Aprille, he signed to him: When you saw Aprille go downstairs, which way did she go?
Shawn's arm was badly hurt. He tried to sign back but couldn't raise his hand. Lora was lost in thought and not paying them any mind. Norton signed the question again. Shawn had no choice but to lean close to his ear and say, loudly:
"The kitchen!"
His voice startled Lora out of her reverie. She looked up and was astonished to see Shawn talking to Norton, and Norton, signing back as if he had heard, asked:
"You mean she went to the kitchen of the tavern?"
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Shawn nodded. Lora stared. "Wait, Norton can hear?"
"I've seen them holler at him like that before. He can hear a little," Shawn answered.
So he had residual hearing?
Lora thought back to what Margaret had told her, Norton had been found when he was barely a year old. When they discovered he couldn't hear, everyone assumed he had been born deaf and mute.
But if he had residual hearing, then his condition might have been caused by a high fever in infancy. That was an acquired injury, treatable. As for why he couldn't speak, it was likely because he had lost his hearing before he could learn language.
She found herself touching the Rose Needle ring on her finger.
The ring seemed to sense her thoughts, its silver petals lifted proudly, as if to say: Correct.
Lora was startled. I got it right?
Norton, seeing the young lady staring at him, assumed she was troubled by the same dark suspicion he had. He signed and vocalized: The scrap of apron was found in the kitchen fire, did they burn Aprille?
"The hearth isn't that big. You think they chopped her up and stuffed her in piece by piece?"
Shawn regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. The young lady's face went pale, the image was horrifying, and she was still just a girl. How could she bear that?
Back at the tower chamber, Margaret and Rosa were waiting outside the door. Lora had iron poten Margaret earlier to quietly alert Alvin, and the two maids had been worried sick. Seeing the young lady return safe, they breathed again.
Keane stepped out of the shadows, bowed to the young lady, and took over Shawn's shift.
Tonight had shaken them all. From now on, whenever the young lady went out, she would have two escorts, one in the open, one in the shadows.
Lora's talent for setting traps and tailing people had been picked up from novels and television. Tonight, with Shawn hurt and Cedric Salt's meek, courteous smile overlapping in her mind with that bloody wound, the whole thing left a bad taste in her mouth.
Lohenheim sacked by marcher troops, not only would her father and brothers be blamed by the King, but the common folk would suffer too. She had told Roland about it in the form of a "dream." Whether it would actually help, she couldn't say.
Lora's hand slipped under her pillow again.
She had meant to pull out the Rose Needle ring and have a little chat with it. Instead, her fingers found the medallion, the one she had torn from her rescuer, and stopped.
That boy in the wheelchair today had been handsome. His face was shaped like the man who had saved her underwater. Too bad he was a cripple, he couldn't have been the one who dove in to save her. Why was she even thinking about him?
The rescuer absolutely couldn't be him.
Half-asleep, Lora dreamed she was floating in the river. The white-robed youth was swimming toward her, slow and sure. Lora's heart leapt, she blinked, trying to make out his face.
A burst of barking shattered the dream.
A dog? In the water?
She forced her eyes open and pulled her left hand out from under the pillow, it was numb from being pinned down. Then, from the courtyard, another round of barking. Lora's head cleared completely:
Where in the world was that damn dog coming from? If it had barked one second later, she would have seen his face!
She rolled bolt upright.
"My lady, did the dog wake you? I told Norton, he can't hear a thing himself, so he figures nobody else can either."
Margaret set a basin of hot water on the washstand and laid a fresh gown over the clothes stand.
Lucy came in, rolled up the bed curtains and the tester canopy, and hooked them back with silver hooks. Before Lora could ask, she launched in:
"Early this morning, Norton went back to his old quarters in the forecourt to pack up the things he and Coltrain hadn't taken with them. He ran into some houseboys beating up his big yellow dog. With him and his foster father both gone, those men would probably have eaten the poor thing."
Norton wanted to ask the young lady "
"I'm not afraid of dogs. Tell him he can keep it in our courtyard. Have someone find some lumber and build it a proper kennel."
Lora understood what Lucy had been about to ask.
"Really? He brought the dog back, but he was worried the young lady wouldn't allow it, he's been fretting!" Lucy ran out, beaming.
By the time Lora had washed and dressed and stepped out, Norton was in the courtyard playing with the dog. He had a small stick; he'd throw it far, and the yellow dog would trot off happily to fetch it.
"Norton, throw it to me!"
Lora was intrigued. She shouted across the courtyard, waving both arms.
Norton hesitated, then tossed the stick toward her feet. She bent, scooped it up, and raised it over her head.
The dog came running, looked at the stick in Lora's hand, and sat up on its hind legs, front paws pressed together, begging. Lora laughed.
"Good dog! Margaret, bring one of the meat pies from the table. Does it have a name?"
"Its owner is a dumb lad, how's he going to give it a name?" Lucy grinned. "What, are you going to call it 'Ah-ah'?"
"Fair point. Then I'll name it myself, Chance!"
Back home, wasn't every other dog named Lucky?
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