Devlin's Luck by Patricia Bray Page A

that hung down from the high ceiling. The metal looked like silver, but only steel or iron could bear such weight. Although the chains could be silver-plated. He would have to find time to examine them someday.
    His attention then turned to the courtiers, his eyes wandering over the room. The gathering seemed strange to him. At first he thought it was because he was unaccustomed to seeing people dressed in such finery. Then he realized it was simply that there were no children. In Duncaer it would have been unthinkable to exclude the children of the guests. Even on the solemnest occasion, the babes might have been left with others, but those who had had their name day would certainly have been included. Yet in this gathering only the pages serving the royal table were below the age of adulthood. He shook his head, wondering what other strange customs these Jorskians held dear.
    At last the King rose, and the court stood as His Royal Majesty left the room. Some of those present then sat down to resume their feast, but Devlin used the opportunity to slip away.
    It was full dark, and it was nearly two days since he had last slept. But he felt no desire to return to his room, to face memories of what he had attempted the previous night. Instead he began to pace the corridors of the castle, exploring with no particular destination in mind.
    It was nearly midnight when Captain Drakken found him. He had made his way to the battlements and stood at the edge of the parapet, staring out at the city revealed below.
    The moonlight lent a silvery sheen to his gray uniform. For a moment she wondered what the King’s Champion was doing here at this hour, and then realized from his dark hair that this was the Chosen One.
    Captain Drakken had been on duty that evening, so she had missed the weekly court dinner. From his attire the Chosen One had been compelled to attend, and she wondered what he had thought of the experience. It was not every day that a peasant was invited to share the King’s board.
    As she drew near, she realized how dangerously close he was to the edge. One foot rested on the ledge, the booted toes projecting into space.
    “It is a long drop from here,” she said softly, not wishing to startle him.
    “You need have no fear. The Geas will not let me jump.”
    His bitter humor caught her by surprise. She had not thought of his jumping, merely in terms of a careless misstep. If any of her guards had been caught in such a dangerous position she would have taught them a lesson they would not soon forget.
    But Devlin Stonehand was not one of her guards, and so she waited patiently in silence. After a moment he stepped back from the ledge and turned to face her.
    “Was there a reason you sought me out?” he asked.
    Torches placed every ten paces illuminated the battlements, casting a flickering light that made it difficult to read his expression.
    Now that she was faced with him, Captain Drakken hesitated. Who was Devlin Stonehand? Was he simply another in a long line of failures who would be lucky if he did not take innocents with him when he met his death? Or was there something more to him?
    She rubbed her hand on her chin, as she often did when thinking. There was but one way to find out the mettle of this man, and that was to put him to the test.
    She came to attention and gave the formal salute, thumping her fist on her shoulder. “Chosen One, I have a task for you.”
    Devlin nodded.
    “There are reports of a band of marauders living in Astavard forest, who prey on travelers along the King’s old highway.”
    “Why hasn’t the local militia taken care of these robbers?”
    “Astavard is part of the King’s own lands, a royal hunting preserve grown wild in these uncertain times. The King journeys there no more, and thus has decided the road is of little importance. The councilors have agreed that there is no need to send anyone to investigate. Not until the losses grow more serious,” she said, trying to keep