Gilded Latten Bones

88

Singe called, "Garrett, you better come see this."

I went. She was at the peephole, looking out.

I took her place.

The view wasn't great but it was broad enough to be disturbing. "Let's go upstairs and get a better look."

I was huffing and puffing by the time I reached the window that was Strafa's preferred entrance. Singe leaned past to look out. "Your loose lips did it this time."

A big coach and a covered wagon had parked across the street. Teamsters were unhitching the horses. Men in strange uniforms meant to stick around for a while.

There were twelve of those.

Another big wagon and a more modest coach arrived with another dozen men. Teamsters got the team for the wagon out of harness.

An officer stepped down from the smaller coach. He surveyed the street, then my place, nodded, unfolded and consulted a large sheet of paper. He barked. A guy who looked like a career sergeant major joined him after bellowing at four men putting up an awning beside the big coach. That had a chimney. Smoke began to drift out.

The sergeant major stood beside the officer. He poked the map with a beefy forefinger. The officer nodded. Moments later ten armed men had been distributed around my house. The rest went on making the big coach and two wagons into a home away from home.

"What the hell are they up to?" I muttered.

"They want to isolate us."

"But those are Palace Guards. Probably most of them. Why are they here?"

"Gee, Garrett, what did I just say?"

"Really.This is ridiculous. Prince Rupert wouldn't go all hard-ass because I didn't come running like Good Dog Nagel."

"You think? You want to consider the time factor? Somebody else sent them. Say, like, I don't know. The guy they actually work for?"

"The King? Well, he is the one they're supposed to protect. But why me? He can't have any reason to come after me. He's never heard of me."

Singe asked, "Are you sure? He wants the man-building mess left alone and his cronies on the Hill agree. Where do all the noseys get together? Here."

"This makes sense if Rupert is under pressure."

"Dinklebrain. Forget Rupert!"

"All right." Prince Rupert didn't have that small a mind, anyway. Narrow, certainly, but not petty.

And this was beyond his budget.

"First thing we need to do is find out what's what."

She demanded, "Do you have shit in your ears?"

"What?"

"I just told you. It's a blockade, blockhead. Nobody will come in. Nobody will go out. People could get arrested for the crime of knowing you. Eventually, we will get hungry."

"You'd better wake the Dead Man up."

"I'm considering options already."

I said, "Oh, crap!"

Belinda's big black coach had turned onto Macunado off Wizard's Reach. It was accompanied by the usual footmen and outriders.

Singe said, "This could prove illuminating."

"Or disastrous if she's been drinking."

Belinda had not been drinking. She remained respectful and courteous in her exchange with the officer, who did not recognize her. I could see she was in a seething rage. "We're good for now, but let's hope she doesn't drink anything stronger than small beer before she calms down. The Crown's armed gang is bigger than hers."

Singe grunted. She said nothing till Belinda's coach was out of sight. "Miss Contague is astute but dangerous. She will make this personal between herself and the Palace Guard. And they are not a gang bigger than hers."

I said "Crap!" again. The Palace Guards would not number fifty men if they had every slot filled. Twelve would be assigned to the Crown Prince, the rest to the King. Meaning most of the King's share were outside now.

Belinda might think she could handle them if she got some firewater in her.

I asked Singe, "Do some of those guys look like they might not be real soldiers?" Some uniforms did not fit right. Some faces were not as cleanly shaven as they ought to be.

"You are correct. Nice catch. If the Windwalker were here, I suspect she might recognize men from the private patrol on the Hill."

If that was true Belinda could get herself into even deeper poo.

Those people might declare war if she yanked their beards. But that prospect wouldn't give her a moment's pause even sober. She lived her life on a bull's-eye.

"This could get ugly."

"Yes. I am going down to see Dean. We will take inventory. Then we can plan for the siege."

"I wish I had a crossbow. I could pick those guys off."

"Are you serious?"

Not really.

"Because it would be just as easy for them to sneak around back and set the house on fire."

"I was joking, Singe."

"Be a little less deadpan, then." She stomped out.

Bright as she was, she had trouble grasping the full range of human humor.

Of course, she wasn't the only one who didn't get me.

I moved my little nightstand over so I could settle my butt while I watched the King's men work.