The Stoneholding

stood before a closed door marked with the royal insignia, a rampant stag clutching a golden harp between outstretched hoofs. The armed men at the door slipped smartly to attention as their superior officer approached. From within could be heard a baby's restless wailing.

A nod from Baldrick permitted the guards to stand easy.

"On my word, sir, but the brat's been mewling the whole day long. And most of the evening too," said the huskier one of the two, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, it's a hard life of plaguing mischief you've got, soldier, but it's his mother the queen that spoils my nights with her colic spite. In any event, it won't be long before we're quit of the woman and her bawling babe, isn't that so, Master Draper?"

Frysan cursed the man's hard-nosed insolence.

"You, soldier," he continued to the same man, "go find Sergeant Cuff and bid him meet me here on the double!" Baldrick turned to the remaining guard. "Now stand aside and let us enter. Leave the bolt of the door unshot."

Without ceremony Baldrick turned the door handle and stomped into a large antechamber. Hung with fading old ...