Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

he couldn't see anything. It could always be a mouse or a rat . . . but it hadn't been that sort of sound. He listened carefully, but the sound wasn't repeated. Jordan shrugged uncomfortably. An old castle like this was bound to make the odd settling noise from time to time. He spotted a drinks cabinet set against the opposite wall, and moved determinedly towards it. He felt very strongly that after the day he'd had he was owed a drink or two. Or several. He pulled open the rococo cabinet doors, and then stared nonplussed at the row of cut-glass decanters before him. They had all been fashioned into the shapes of strange fantastical creatures, such as unicorns, wyverns or cockatrices. The shapes were grotesque and distorted, and, more importantly, there were no labels to describe the contents. Jordan smiled briefly. Of course there weren't any labels, Viktor would know what his own decanters held. And the shapes might be a bit queer, but then Viktor's taste in furniture wasn't that hot either.
    Jordan picked up the nearest decanter, and hefted it in his hand. The cut glass was a solid weight, and hideously expensive. He let his mind play idly with a few schemes for making off with the decanters, as a
    sort of insurance in case things went wrong later, and then reluctantly discarded the notion. He stood to make fifty thousand ducats out of this impersonation, and he wasn't about to risk that for a few cut-glass decanters. He pulled out the heavy stopper, and gripping the decanter tightly to make sure he wouldn't drop it, he sniffed cautiously at the dark purple wine inside. It smelt strong and acidic, not to mention malevolent, so he replaced the stopper. The next decanter he tried held plum brandy, and Jordan passed on that as well. He'd tried the sickly stuff once, and the hangover had lasted four days. The third decanter held a good malt whisky, and Jordan was just about to pour himself a very large glass when he heard the sound of sudden movement again. It sounded louder, and closer.
    Jordan whirled round, sword in hand, and put his back against the drinks cabinet. The room lay open and apparently harmless before him. All the doors were still shut, and no one could have got past the guards outside without his hearing. Jordan remembered some of the things Gawaine had told him about ghosts and monsters, the Real and the Unreal, and a slow chill ran through him. He checked the distance between him and the main door, swallowed hard, and wondered if the guards would hear him if he screamed for help. He took a hold of himself and shook his head angrily.
    So far he hadn't seen anything that looked even remotely threatening, and a right twit he'd look if he summoned the guards and then had to admit it was only his imagination ...
    He realised he was still holding the decanter in his left hand, and put it back in the drinks cabinet. He looked cautiously around him. The room was very quiet. Jordan moved slowly forward, holding his sword out before him. The nearest door lay to his right. If he remembered Roderik's gesture correctly, that was the bedchamber. What better place for an assassin to be hiding . . . Jordan padded quietly over to the door, and pressed his ear against the wood. He thought he heard a few quiet, furtive sounds on the other side of the door, but he couldn't be certain. He took a firm hold on the doorknob with his left hand, and turned it slowly. He waited until he was sure the catch had disengaged, and then eased the door open an inch. He let go of the doorknob very carefully, and wiped his sweaty palm on his trouser leg. He still couldn't hear anything. His breathing was getting faster, and his legs were just a little shaky. He began to wonder if the assassin was standing on the other side of the door, listening to him, waiting for him to make the wrong move. Jordan decided he wasn't going to think about that. He also decided he'd better do something fast, before what little was left of his nerve disappeared completely. He took a firm grip on his swordhilt, kicked the door wide open, and stormed into the bedchamber.
    The large dog by the bed looked up, startled by Jordan's sudden entrance. It started to back away, and then stopped and wagged its tail hopefully. Jordan looked quickly around the bedroom, but there was no one else there. He put his sword away and shook his head, grinning. All that fuss over a pet dog ... he was getting paranoid. He walked slowly towards the dog, holding out his hand and