“Who would know? Someone in the palace who hires the servants, I guess.”
“Yes.”
Steve waited, hoping Bedwyr would offer to help. When he did not, Steve decided to ask him outright. Steve only hoped he would not offend the warrior in some unpredictable way.
“Could you introduce me to this person? I would like to ask about my friend.”
“Mm, well, how about another drink, Steve? Even this little village has more taverns than we’ve seen yet.”
“You can’t take a stranger to the palace?”
Bedwyr grinned. “You really want to find this fellow. Does he owe you money?”
“No, no.” Steve laughed. “But you’re right-finding him is very important to me.”
“I’ll talk to a friend,” said Bedwyr slowly. “But no promises. Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll see who’s on sentry duty this watch. I know all those guys.”
Steve grinned in the darkness. This was progress, at least. In Bedwyr’s company, he couldn’t call Hunter directly, but he switched on his lapel pin so that Hunter could overhear him.
“How far is it to the palace?” Steve asked.
Bedwyr laughed. “In this village? You’ve seen it. Nothing is more than a few minutes’ walk.”
Steve knew Hunter would get the message from that exchange. They walked in silence through the streets. When they turned a corner, they left the taverns behind.
A single torch burned in a holder over the main entrance to the palace. Two bored sentries sat on stools, cradling their spears. They looked up with interest when they heard footsteps approaching.
“It’s Bedwyr,” he called out. “And a new friend. Good evening, Aetius. Wake up, Drustan.”
They both grinned. “What are you doing here, Bedwyr? The taverns are still open.”
“My friend Steve, here, now rides under Lucius. He seeks a friend who may be in the palace.”
Drustan frowned. “He can’t go inside at this hour. In the morning, maybe.”
“I don’t need to go inside,” said Steve. “My friend is called MC 6.”
“Strange name,” said Bedwyr.
“He may have taken another on his travels. Maybe I could describe him to you. He’s a little guy, slender and about so high.” Steve held his hand at MC 6’s height. “He probably doesn’t talk much, but he’s very agreeable. If you tell him to do something, he just does it. And he never hurts anybody-he won’t fight, but he’ll try to stop a fight between other people. Have you seen him?”
The sentries looked at each other.
“Well, there’s little Patricius,” said Drustan. “He’s only twelve.”
“I’m looking for a grown man,” said Steve. “Just a little one.”
“Medraut’s not too big,” said Aetius. “But he’s no stranger. He’s Artorius’s nephew.”
“One of the cooks caught him scrapping with another young rascal yesterday,” said Drustan. “Medraut picks fights all the time.”
“You sure he’s that little?” Aetius asked. “Maybe he’s gotten his growth since you saw him last.”
“Well…it was only a few months ago.”
“I fear we haven’t seen anyone like that,” said Drustan. “We would notice, I think. But maybe he works in the village somewhere.”
“Maybe so. Thank you.” Steve sighed. Hunter had certainly heard the entire exchange. MC 6 probably had not returned to full size yet. “Bedwyr, shall we visit another tavern? I’ll buy.”
“Not so fast,” said Drustan, grinning. “Artorius has been coming out for a quick walk every evening. He may come out any minute.”
“You mean I could meet him?”
“If he walks out in the same mood as usual, he’ll have no objection. He likes to mix with the men this time of year, as the campaign season approaches.”
“I think I’ll hang around.” Steve laughed. “You mind, Bedwyr?”
“Not at all. I’ll linger with you. It can’t hurt to have a good word with the man at the top.”