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"Where in the ducal palace, corporal?"
"Sir, in the residence wing, sir."
"Do you mean the place where the grand dukes live?"
"Sir, yes, sir."
"Where Grand Duke Eltan lives?"
"Sir, yes, sir."
"The Grand Duke Eltan who's facing a ducal election?"
"Sir, yes, sir."
"The Grand Duke Eltan who has more enemies than any one man in the Gate?"
"Sir yes, s "
"Then wake up, you idiot," the sergeant shouted.
Julius tensed his abdomen, concentrating on holding his bladder. "S-sir," he stammered, "y-yes, sir."
"As you weren't, corporal." Maerik scoffed, then turned down the corridor and off a side passage, his boots making
no sound on the cold marble floor.
Julius breathed a sigh of relief. He'd only been assigned to the ducal palace for a week now, and though he'd been in
battle before, even fought wererats in the darkest part of the wharf, this was the most tense duty he'd ever pulled. He
wasn't worried that an assassin might get in, not this far into the ducal palace, but he was afraid that what just
happened might happen again, and again, enough times for his newfound rank to find its way back down to footman.
He shifted the halberd over to his left side and mopped sweat from his brow. It was late or early and his eyes felt
heavy, dry, and tired. A tiny sound made him jump, and he glanced sharply down the dimly-lit corridor to see a mouse
scurry off into the darkness. He sighed, then jumped again when a heavy hand landed squarely on his shoulder.
"Heads up, soldier."
The man was instantly familiar to Julius. Scar had led the attack on the wererats, and Julius was at the briefing he
gave, then fought at the experienced warrior's side for a few precious moments in the sewer drain.
"C-captain Scar," Julius said, standing as straight as he could. "I uh I wasn't told . . ."
Scar scowled at him and said, "Why would you be?"
"I " Julius started to say. Scar held up a hand to stop him.
"Go to the stables and ready the grand duke's steed," Scar ordered casually, "I'm getting him out of here before
dawn."
Julius was so surprised he just stood there with his mouth hanging open. Something was going on, something big.
Not on my watch, Julius thought, why on my watch?
"Are we unclear on something, corporal?"
"N-no, sir, I just "
"Move your ass, kid." Scar said, and the look in his eye was enough to propel Julius down the corridor as fast as his
shaking knees would take him.
He ran for a while before he realized that, as he was prone to do in the labyrinthine palace, especially at night, he'd
gotten himself lost. He prayed strenuously to Tymora, who answered his prayer with the luck goddess's typical sense
of humor.
"By Umberlee's undulating bosom, boy," Sergeant Maerik belted out, "what in the name of every other god are you
doing here, you addle-pated son of a flea-bitten !"
"I'm lost," Julius said before he had any chance to even think how amazingly bad an idea it was to say that.
Sergeant Maerik punched him in the face.
"I'm sorry," Julius squealed even as he fell hard on his rump. Blood tricked from his still vibrating nose, and his
halberd clattered on the floor next to him.
"This is hardly the time to leave your post, you butt-sniffing dolt," the sergeant shouted. "Captain Scar's been
murdered, and the whole company's being called up."
"But I just saw him," Julius blurted.
"Saw who, you tick?"
"Scar," Julius said, scrambling to his feet. "It was Captain Scar who told me to go to the stables and get Grand Duke
Eltan's horse "
"Scar was here?" Maerik asked, his eyes wide. "This night?"
"Sir," Julius said, straightening his blood-dripped tabard and scanning for his fallen polearm, "not half an hour ago,
sir. He was going into the grand duke's residence."
Maerik went pale and grabbed Julius roughly, dragging him down the corridor at a run.
"Not on my watch!" the sergeant cursed. "Why does it always have to be my watch!"
* * * * *
Julius and Maerik skidded to a halt at the wide double doors that led into the grand duke's private residence. Julius
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