The Warden

Chapter 34

"What do you mean that you dispatched Captain Ansleth with a squad?" asked Lord Markham, face incredulous, words laced with skepticism. "You didn't think it merited mention?"

"At the time, Lord Markham," said Mistress Charlan, "I thought speed the more prudent course. Besides, I wanted to be discreet. Night wights rushing about the treaty celebration might have raised some suspicions, don't you think?"

He waved off her remark, striding away in the pitch black chamber, pacing. No source of light remained. They had been extinguished when the other wights had gone up the flue, leaving behind Lord Markham and Charlan to have a brief conference together before the coming of Wilo. As usual, the massive doors were barred from the outside, no cracks allowing in any air or light from the outer hall. Over the months that she had been working with the sovereigns and their soldiers, she had spent long hours in this perfectly square room with its high sheen on every surface. A jail cell by all intents and purposes. But one that smelled far better than the stereotypical dungeon.

"And, where are they?" asked Markham, coming back at Charlan. "Why haven't we heard anything?"

"Lord Markham," said Mistress Charlan, pressing her palms together and rocking her fingers forward to emphasize her words. "I know as much as you do, and you would know nothing at all if it hadn't been for that particularly reckless she-wight wandering into the throne room. If you hadn't noticed her, you might never have known Lady Kyla had been found at all."

Lord Markham stilled. "Mistress, I hope you're not trying to politely tell me that you would keep anything from me. After all, I know how much the grief from your son's death has clouded your judgment. We wouldn't want you to make decisions without the guiding and steadying help of those who just want the best for you and the rest of our kind."

You patronizing little worm, snarled Charlan in her mind. I made you what you are today.

One day she would tear off his head, personally.

"Lord Markham, speak frankly. There is no one here and you can do away with all your pretense."

"Very well," he replied, nodding his head. "It comes down to this. I have many allies within and without the inner circle that feel your style of leadership is a bit too domineering. Some have even voiced the idea that new leadership is needed to guide us into our next chapter. And since you've yet to provide the one crucial part of our plan, namely the Warden, I don't know how I'll be able to keep them at bay any longer."

"I thank you so very much, Lord Markham, for doing all that you have." A frown tugged Charlan's mouth downward as though she had just eaten something that upset her stomach. "May I ask why you've been so good to me?"

"I've insisted that you have been doing a fine job," said Lord Markham with an insipid smile. "But I have also suggested that all you need is an aide-de-camp. Captain Ansleth is your closest supporter and nearer to that trusted position than anyone. But, if tonight's mission went as poorly as we both believe it did, you'll need someone to step into that most trusted role."

"We don't know anything yet," said Charlan, moving away from him. "They could be waiting for us in our sleeping chamber."

"And why haven't they sent us word?" He paused to close his eyes, silently considering for a moment before reopening them. "We have fifteen minutes before Wilo crests. That is more than enough time to take the prisoner to our chambers and send a messenger to us here. But they have not. You and I both know what that means, especially if they faced off with a newly made Warden."

"Doesn't that just go to prove that my plan has worked," said Charlan, jumping back up the line of thought Lord Markham had started. She struck a single foot to the ground to emphasize her point. "The fact that a new Warden exists proves that we have successfully drawn out Lady Kyla and that she has made a crucial mistake in our favor."