The Stoneholding

tapestries, its walls were lined with richly upholstered chairs. The figure of the Captain of the Guard seemed outlandish in the room -- brute and uncouth, a formless lump of tallow encased in armour. He closed the door behind Frysan.

"Woman, are you in your chamber? I've brought you a visitor. A friend of yours, or so he claims," he barked above the baby's crying and swaggered towards the velvet curtain that covered the entrance to the royal bedchamber itself. For a brief moment Frysan considered pulling out his hidden dagger. The temptation was strong to plunge it full into Baldrick's back -- or his neck, if he could find it. With all his girth this man would not die quickly or easily. The blade would have to cut through the chain mesh of his hauberk and mounds of flesh to reach the vital organs. All the man had to do was cry out once to pull the whole garrison down on Frysan's head. Better to wait until they penetrated farther out of earshot into the royal apartments.

"Come along now." Baldrick craned his head back and scowled at Frysan, as he parted the curtain before him with his hand, revealing a large bedchamber. Stepping in, he moved aside, distancing himself from Frysan.

He was being careful all of a sudden. Frysan would have to show his hand and strike soon or risk being taken.

At the far end, before a bed that was recessed into the wall under a splendid tester, there knelt a woman stooped over a cradle, rocking it gently and crooning a lullaby, her face hidden by a cascade of auburn tresses. The wails of the baby who lay in the cradle had subsided to pitiful wheezes. The woman lifted her head and recoiled at the presence of Baldrick who obviously frightened her, although ...