The Jaguar Knights by Dave Duncan Page A

would care to say a few words. Wolf was sure she had not been forewarned, but she never hesitated.
    “It would be more appropriate for a Blade to address Blades and future Blades. Sir Wolf?”
    Wolf rose to face angry silence. He gave them four sentences. He mentioned the King’s decree of secrecy and paid tribute to the gallant defenders who had died at Quondam, especially the two Blades, who had been true to the ancient traditions of their Order. “I swear to youall,” he concluded, “that Inquisitor Hogwood and I will fulfill His Majesty’s solemn command. We will discover the culprits and we will see them brought to justice!”
    The moment he sat down old Bowman was on his feet, applauding. Tancred picked up the cue. The boys followed Prime’s lead. Then everyone had to join in the standing ovation, even Etienne and Kane, who could not have a clue who was being cheered. The King’s Killer sat in angry silence as the hall rang and the sky of swords overhead thrummed in approval. He had never been given a standing ovation before. He was sure he would never get another, and this one was for a foolish boast he had no hope of ever carrying out.
10
    A single candle flame danced nervously to the shutters’ castanets and the wailing flutes of wind in the eaves. Wolf had reports to read, but even that slight activity must wait upon some rest. His body dropped gratefully onto Grand Master’s bed and went to sleep at once, eager to do whatever it is bodies do to repair extreme exhaustion. His mind remained alert. At such times he tended to worry about his ward and whether the sex-crazed halfwits of the Guard were keeping proper care of him in his absence. He forced it to consider the Quondam problems instead. Why had the King chosen him, why had the Dark Chamber chosen Hogwood, why had the intruders squandered so many lives to so little purpose? Strangest question of all—why Celeste?
    It was several days after his binding that he first set eyes on the King’s exotic mistress. Rookie guardsmen must be outfitted with livery before they could be seen around Court. They needed specific Guard training, not the least of which was just learning their way around whatever palace was currently the royal residence. They must endure lectures on the latest politics and court scandals—Baron This can be violent when drunk, Lord That spies for the Isilondians, and so on. They were offered certain initiation rites.
    Celeste’s title of King’s Courtesan was unofficial but no secret. Her quarters were located directly below the Royal Suite, and Greymere Palace was riddled with secret passages and concealed stairways. Vicious was too tactful to post men outside her door, but any intruder breaking in during the night would have greatly brightened the lives of half a dozen Blades dying of boredom in her antechamber.
    Her path and Wolf’s first converged one evening when he was on guard at the entrance to the West Hall and she was dancing with the King. Even at that distance, a naive country lad was impressed by her red-gold hair, her incredible body—invariably clad in a scandalously revealing gown—and the ripples of excitement that always marked her location in a crowd, but he was still gawking at every chandelier and cleavage in sight, and not as impressed as he should have been. A day or two later he stole a closer look at her and was very impressed indeed. She did not notice him.
    The Marquesa de Sierra Crudeza was rumored to be an illegitimate daughter of King Diego of Distlain. Her husband, the Marqués, was by then in Clag Street debtors’ prison and destined to remain so until he died of jail fever, which he did with tactful dispatch. An uncanny air of danger and mystery hung about Celeste, adding to her attraction. She had been the belle of the court of Isilond until the queen poisoned the king in a fit of jealous fury, so Chivial was almost a letdown for her. Court gossips twittered that the White Sisters could smell