The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

sound. Darville pushed her behind him as he reached for his short sword atop the desk.
    A magician eavesdropped on the king. Only a member of the coven would have the audacity to do that.

Chapter 16
     
    J ack reached down with his sword/staff, with his free hand, and with his magic to yank a startled scullery maid through the hole.
    She squeaked a protest, her eyes wide.
    Jack detected no magic in her aura. He’d heard a second heartbeat.
    The witchlight torch continued to gleam. The magician who had lighted it could not be far. The coven had grown as bold as the Gnuls if they eavesdropped within the palace.
    Jack thrust the maid toward Darville. The king stumbled with his unexpected burden. The two landed in a heap on the floor. Feminine giggles erupted from the froth of flying petticoats.
    Mikka grabbed the girl by the back of her bodice and hoisted her away from the grinning king with a ferocious yank. The queen did not return the smile.
    Jack reached again into the hole, only slightly distracted by the sight of feminine legs protruding enticingly from the tangle of lacy petticoats—too much expensive lace for a mere scullery maid.
    This time his hands came up empty. He peered deeper. The witchlight retreated rapidly.
    Should he follow?
    “Who was with you?” Jack demanded angrily.
    The maid continued to eye the king while patting and shifting her clothing. She giggled as Queen Mikka possessively brushed dust off her husband’s tunic. Darville did not look overly distressed at the attention of two attractive women.
    “Why, no one, my lord,” the maid replied. She preened and fussed with her mussed gown, making certain Jack saw how low her bodice dipped.
    The king kept his eyes discreetly on his wife’s face.
    “Don’t lie, girl. I saw the witchlight within the torch.” Jack advanced on the girl until his sword tip touched her throat just below the chin. He hated using violence to intimidate the truth out of her, yet he knew of no other safe way to interrogate her. She’d report magic coercion to the Gnuls and the Council of Provinces.
    “Witchlight!” she gasped, crossing herself, then making the older warding gesture of right wrist crossed over left and flapping her hands—a symbolic banning of Simurgh, the ancient winged demon who thrived upon blood. “I never . . . He never . . .” She drifted off into panicky choking noises as she looked pleadingly at Jack and then at the king. “He said we’d just listen . . . gather gossip . . . harmless, he said . . .” the maid stammered her explanation.
    “I’ll send Sergeant Fred to search the tunnels from both ends,” Darville said as he marched toward the door, pointedly keeping his back to the maid. He tried the door.
    It resisted.
    He turned the key.
    It still wouldn’t budge.
    He looked at Jack, lifting one eyebrow again in a maddening gesture.
    Jack blinked hastily, three times and recited the trigger words that would remove the locking spell, hoping the maid was too concerned with her own hysteria and Jack’s sword point to notice the delay.
    The door flew open at Darville’s touch. Three guards, led by Fred, almost fell into the room, swords and daggers drawn. Three steps, two turns, double over, and balance on one foot. The maid dove into their clumsy dance for balance, further upsetting them. More laughter and delay.
    She knew more than she admitted.
    “A little late, aren’t you, Sergeant?” Jack said, working his cheeks to keep from laughing at their antics.
    “Fred, take one man into the tunnels and search for anyone who might have carried a torch of witchlight within the past few moments. And you.” Darville thrust the maid into the all too willing arms of the third guard. “Take her to an interrogation room. No one talks to her until I get there. No one. Do you hear me?”
    The guard gulped and nodded. His fair skin turned blotchy red in embarrassment.
    “I didn’t mean no harm . . . only gossip about Lady Ariiell being in the family way. No harm in gossip,” the maid protested as the guard dragged her from the room.
    “And dispatch some men to search the tunnels from the barracks end and the cove three islands over where His Grace keeps his private boat,” Jack added. No doubt the listener had brought the maid along so that she would be caught while he escaped.
    The soldiers scrambled to obey Jack’s orders as if he were the lieutenant and not merely a new recruit.
    Jack smiled to himself. Authority came from within