The Jaguar Knights Read Free Page A

had chosen well, a powerful bay Wolf knew of old, which seemed to know him also, snorting puffs of steam at him and stamping a roughshod hoof on the flags. Young Florian arrived, panting, with a weighty purse from Vicious. A few moments later a mousy clerk mincedcarefully across the yard to hand Wolf his warrant, signed and sealed. He read it through carefully, disentangling complex prose to establish that he was granted authority to go anywhere, requisition anything, question, detain, or conscript anyone, even suspend civil liberties. It was an astonishing delegation of power, but then he was the government’s first response to an act of war, either foreign or civil. Answering Modred’s frustrated glare with a smile of thanks, he swung into the saddle and adjusted his sword.
    As he rode across the yard, another horse emerged from an adjacent stable and moved alongside, its hooves making muffled thuds instead of the usual clatter. The rider was well wrapped in black fur, with little more than his eyes visible inside the hood of his cloak, but their glassy stare told Wolf his assistant had arrived.
    The snoop said, “Trying to sneak away without me, Sir Wolf?”
    The little of him that was visible suggested he was too young to be much help, even in a fight, but Wolf would prefer an incompetent rookie to an older man deliberately blocking him.
    “I was tired of waiting for you, Inquisitor Hogwood.”
    The boy held out a black glove. “Your commission, please.”
    Unable to think of a reason to refuse, Wolf fished out the scroll and handed it over. Junior unrolled it, rolled it up again, and returned it.
    “I thought you wanted to read it.”
    Fishy stare again. “I did read it. Very curious, isn’t it?”
    That was typical snoop talk, but he sounded even younger than he looked and Wolf clung tight to the remaining shreds of his temper. “Curious in what way, boy?” He put his horse into a saddle-high canyon cut through the drifts to the postern gate.
    “In whom it names and whom it does not. The Privy Council is apprised of massacre, either armed insurrection or foreign invasion, and it reacts by sending a twenty-four-year-old swordsman of meager education and repellent reputation.”
    “It was a birthweek present for me.”
    “Prudence would suggest dispatching several senior Privy Councillors with an entourage of clerks and attorneys.”
    Wolf could sneer too. “In this weather, sonny? The poor dearswouldn’t last a league.” Babyface had made a valid point, though. Wolf would be replaced the moment the roads were passable again.
    “Looking to the Royal Guard for brains is still a questionable innovation.”
    “But I am spiritually bound to absolute loyalty. You are not. Who is not mentioned in the writ who should be?”
    By then they were heading for the northern gatehouse, plodding along an avenue flanked by giant beeches, half a century old and barely adolescent.
    “Lord Roland, of course. He sent the news. He has gone to Quondam to take charge. As Grand Master of the Blades, he holds one of the senior offices in the realm. He must have been sworn in as a member of the Privy Council before you were born, so why not just send a courier with a warrant to confirm his authority? Of course,” young Smartypants added, “Lord Roland is no longer bound and therefore the King may doubt his loyalty. He may see him as being no more trustworthy than an inquisitor.”
    Fretting at being under Blade authority, no doubt, the kid was trying to make Wolf look like a dumb, pig-sticking swordsman. Doing quite well, too. Obviously he had been better briefed than Wolf had.
    “I expect His Majesty wants a second opinion.”
    “A trained observer, more likely.”
    “No eyes are sharper than Blades’. Can you use that thing?” Blades had only contempt for the sort of short sword Hogwood was wearing, a gentleman’s weapon.
    “Not well by your standards, Sir Wolf, but better than most men. I may fare as well as you do