Casket of Souls

low to make out the words. No, there were two voices: a man and a woman. Had the kitchen maid been wrong, or had the duke come home early for some reason? He hoped Alec hadmanaged to get the secret compartment he’d found covered up again.
    Whatever the case, they were trapped. The balcony projected out over a deadly drop to the ocean below. The tide was low and there were rocks jutting up out of the foaming surge. If the tide had been in, Seregil might have chanced it as a last resort, but there would still have been the matter of getting Alec to jump. Picking him up and tossing him had worked in the past, but Seregil didn’t like doing it.
    The voices rose and fell inside, punctuated with laughter, then took on a decidedly amorous tone. Alec shook his head, then held up what appeared to be a letter.
    What is that?
Seregil signed.
    Alec handed him the letter. It was dated ten days ago, on the fifth of Gorathin, with the salutation “Your Majesty, Most Esteemed Aunt,” and signed, “Elani, Princess Royal of Skala.” He looked up at Alec and saw his triumphant grin. Seregil grinned back and held up thumb and finger, signing
Good!
    The letter itself was nothing particularly interesting, just the description of the young heir’s daily life—sword and archery practice, the gift of a new horse from a Marquis Kyrin, lessons with the royal falconer, the death of a favorite dog, mention of a letter from the potential suitor, Danos. The tone was very matter-of-fact, with little trace of girlish excitement. That struck him as rather sad, though not surprising. From what little he’d seen of Phoria’s closely guarded heir, she seemed like a very serious sort of girl.
    Never mind that, though. What was Reltheus doing with this? Seregil looked at it again with a critical eye. The handwriting looked more like a man’s than a young girl’s, and someone who was adept at fine writing. That suggested a few possibilities.
    There was no sign of a seal, either, so it was either a copy or a forgery, though it was puzzling that anyone would bother to forge such a prosaic letter.
    The sounds of lovemaking were building to a crescendo now, full of grunts and incoherent endearments. Seregilnudged Alec’s shoulder and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Alec rolled his eyes, shaking with silent laughter.
    The lovers came to what sounded like a mutually satisfactory conclusion and tapered off into panting moans and laughter. A happy couple, but who?
    After a few moments of silence the light went out and they heard the study door softly open and close. Seregil had barely gained his feet when the door beside him swung open and a burly young man strode out completely naked and apparently quite pleased with himself. He went to the edge of the balcony and leaned on the stone railing, humming a little tune under his breath. He was too young to be the duke, and the duke’s adult sons by his first wife were off at war. Probably a servant taking advantage of his master’s absence for a little fun.
    Touching Alec’s wrist, Seregil inclined his head toward the door and silently slipped into the darkened room. Alec followed close behind. The happy lover remained oblivious. There was no choice now but to use the study door. Seregil led the way into the dark corridor and into a bedchamber a few doors down, praying it was unoccupied. It was, and had a disused smell.
    They waited there, listening at the door until they heard the happy swain leave the study, then crept back inside. Alec kept watch while Seregil sat down at the desk to copy Princess Elani’s letter, using the duke’s fine parchment and expensive ink. With that done and the documents returned to their hiding places, they hurried down the steep servants’ stair at the end of the corridor, boots whispering on the worn wooden risers.
    There were watchmen at the front door and other main gates, but not in the well yard. In a spinning room they squeezed out through a tiny window that a larger man couldn’t have managed and dropped twice their height to the muddy ground below. After that it was a simple matter to scramble over the wall behind the well and make their way along a ditch to the highroad. They kept watch over their shoulders as they went, prepared for an outcry, but the villawas dark behind its ornate stone wall, the night still except for the raucous din of the crickets.
    Satisfied that they had gotten away clean, Seregil gave Alec’s braid a playful tug. “I’m glad