Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(205)

Rook gave him a cool look. "Did you have doubts?"

Orus snapped to attention. "No, Mistress Rook."

"Excellent," Rook said. "Who is on duty as Watch Tribune?"

"His Excellency the Count Eraegus, Mistress," Orus said. "Shall I send a runner ahead of you?"

"Unnecessary," Rook replied, brushing past him. "I know where his office is."

"Yes, Mistress Rook. But regulations prohibit armed retainers from entering the citadel." He nodded at Aldrick and Bernard and gave Rook an apologetic glance. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask them to leave their arms here."

"Absolutely not," Rook said. "His Grace charged me with the particular protection of these slaves until such time as he permits liberties with them."

Orus frowned. "I understand. Then I will be pleased to assign a pair of my own guardsmen to you for such a duty."

Amara struggled to remain in her drowsy, languidly sensual stance. It was difficult, given that she was quite certain that Aldrick had just shuffled his feet slightly in order to have them already in position for when he drew steel.

"Are they eunuchs?" Rook asked, her tone dry.

Orus blinked. "No, Mistress."

"Then I'm afraid they don't qualify, centurion." Rook dropped the mildest emphasis on the pronunciation of the rank. "I'll be sure to clear this with Count Eraegus at once, but for the time being I have my orders. Here are yours. Remain at your post."

The young centurion looked more than a little relieved. He saluted her with perfect precision and stepped back to his post.

"You," she snapped, looking at Aldrick. "This way."

The guards stood aside as Amara's group calmly walked in through the citadel's front door.

"Quickly," Rook said quietly, once they were past the guards and in the small courtyard on the other side. "Until we reach the upper levels, there's too much chance someone might see me and start asking questions."

"Someone just did," Bernard murmured.

"Someone with a mind," Rook clarified. "Kalarus controls the Immortals completely, but the collars have damaged their ability to ask questions or take the initiative in exchange for providing perfect obedience. The Immortals won't question me or act against me unless ordered to-but Kalarus's staff and officers might. They're the ones we have to avoid." She picked up the pace to a more brisk walk, led them down a side hallway, then to a wide, spiraling staircase that wound up through the heart of the tower.

Amara counted one hundred and eighteen stairs before they heard a footstep ahead of them, and an overweight, sallow man in overly fine livery stained with wine appeared four steps above them. His jowls were pocked with scars, his hair thick and uncombed, his face unshaven. He drew up to a halt and squinted at them.

"Rook?" he said.

Amara saw Rook's spine tighten with tension, but she gave no other sign of nervousness. She bowed her head, and murmured, "Milord Eraegus. Good morrow."

Eraegus grunted, and eyed the other women. His mouth spread into an appreciative leer. "Bringing in some fresh toys for us?"

"Yes," Rook said.

"Pretty bunch," Eraegus said. "When did you get in?"

"Late last night."

"Didn't expect you back this soon," he said.

Amara could see the curve of Rook's cheek as she gave Eraegus a disarming smile. "We were fortunate on the road."

Eraegus grunted. "Not what I meant. There were reports that you might have been capt-"