But it was hard to argue against such a legend. Especially when the man who spread it the most energetically would have printing presses at his disposal.
Those devices, also, were being constructed at Chalice at Verice Demansk’s command. His son Trae had brought the design back with him, from Adrian Gellert, along with many others.
* * *
Hearing the tumult in the streets, followed by the bursting of the mansion’s front door, the other girls cowered fearfully in a corner of their chambers. Kata did not. She knew, somehow, that the noise meant that Jeschonyk was dead. But—
She had come to trust the old man, as well as grow fond of him. So, when the soldiers came into the room and the other girls began screaming, she just hollered at them.
“Shut up, damn you!”
To the officer who seemed to be in charge:
“Where are we going?”
He seemed a bit startled. “Aren’t you the cool one?” Then, with a smile: “Just keep ’em quiet, will you? It’s a long way to Hagga, and I’d just as soon not be deaf when we get there.”
* * *
The next few hours were as confusing as they were frightening. A hurried rush, under cover of nightfall, to a nearby villa—the richest mansion Kata had ever seen in her life. Followed by . . . nothing. Just what seemed like an endless wait, hiding in a side house while their escort fidgeted outside on the grounds of the villa.
Kata was able to keep the other girls quiet, but it became more difficult as time passed. She herself simply couldn’t make any rhyme or reason out of what was happening. It didn’t help her state of mind any when she realized that the officer and soldiers who had taken her and the other girls and the servants out of Jeschonyk’s villa couldn’t make any sense of it either.
“What does that crazy bitch think she’s doing?” she overheard one of the soldiers mutter to another. The response was a shrug of resignation.
“Don’t ask me. The sergeant just says we’re to keep everyone here tonight, and be ready to get out of the city sometime tomorrow. Seems the Lady wants to make a speech.”
“What? In the capital? Albrecht’s goons are crawling all over the place. Is she out of her mind?”
Another resigned shrug. “What else is new? Remember that time—you ought to, it was only a few months back—she suddenly had us hauling most of the statues out of this place? In the middle of the night, as if anybody cared what she did with the stupid things?” Glumly: “Heavy they were, too. Like hoisting so many rocks.”
The ensuing conversation, what little of it Kata was able to understand, seemed to revolve around the endless insanities of the guards’ employer. It was not, under the circumstances, the most reassuring thing she could have heard.
But . . . there was nothing she could do, after all. So, after a time, she curled up on a couch and managed to get some sleep.
When she awoke, it was well into the morning. In itself, that was not unusual. Jeschonyk had often kept her up late into the night. What was unusual was being awakened by the sound of young men shouting orders instead of an old man’s caress.
She bolted upright, startled and afraid. The other girls around her had their mouths open, ready to scream.
“Be quiet, you ninnies!” Thinking quickly: “Those are the guards. Listen! They’re getting ready to leave—and in a hurry. Get up!”
She led by example, dragooning the others into what passed for an organized group waiting by the door. When the door was opened, by the same officer who had taken them out of Jeschonyk’s villa, they were ready to go.
The officer looked relieved. “Thank the gods, some women in the world have their heads where they belong. Come on, girls—and hurry. The crazy bi—ah, Lady Knecht—has stirred up the whole damn city. Her own escort had to fight their way back here.”
The last two sentences were muttered over his shoulder. He was already well across the villa grounds, Kata and the girls trotting at his heels, heading toward the largest coach Kata had ever seen in her life. Also, from the looks of it, the most luxurious.