“So, Lane, you think Melengar has fallen already?” the shortest of them asked.

“Of course. I’ll wager Breckton took it last night or maybe early this morning. That’s why the owners of these horses are here. They’re probably refugees, cowards fleeing like rats from a sinking ship.”

“Deserters?”

“Maybe,” Lane replied.

“If Melengar really did fall last night, it might have been the king himself who fled,” the short one speculated.

“Don’t be a rube!” the second tallest told him. “A king would never ride on nags like these.”

“Don’t be too sure about that.” Lane came to the little one’s defense. “Alric isn’t much of a real king. They say he and his witch sister killed their father and stole the throne just as he was about to name Percy Braga his successor. I even heard that Alric has taken his sister as his mistress, and there’s talk of her becoming queen.”

“That’s disgusting!”

“The church would never allow that,” said the other.

“Alric kicked the church out of Melengar months ago because he knew it would try to stop him,” Lane explained. “You have to understand that the Melengarians aren’t civilized people. They’re still mostly barbarians and slip further back into their tribal roots every year. Without the church to watch over them, they’ll be drinking the blood of virgins and praying to Uberlin before the year is out. They allow elves to run free in their cities, for Maribor’s sake. Did you know that?”

Arista could not see their faces as she stood beyond the doorway, carefully keeping herself hidden.

“So perhaps this is the nag the king of Melengar escaped on. He could be staying in one of the dorm rooms right now, plotting his next move.”

“Do you think Chancellor Lambert knows?”

“I doubt it,” Lane replied. “I don’t think a good man like Lambert would allow a menace like Alric to stay here.”

“Should we tell him?”

“Why don’t you tell him, Hinkle?” Lane said to the short fellow.

“Why me? You should do it. After all, you’re the one that noticed them.”

“Me? I don’t have time. Lady Chastelin sent me another letter today and I need to work on my reply lest she drives a dagger into her chest for fear I’ve forgotten her.”

“Don’t look at me,” said the remaining one. “I’ll admit it—Lambert scares me.”

The others laughed.

“No, I’m serious. He scares the wax out of me. I was sent to his office last semester because of that rabid rat stunt Jason pulled. I’d rather he’d just cane me.”

Together they walked off, continuing their chatter, which drifted to Lady Chastelin and doubts of her devotion to Lane.

Arista waited a moment until she was certain they were gone, then found the bags near the saddles and stuffed one under her arm. She grabbed the other two and quickly, but carefully, returned across the commons and slipped back up the stairs of Glen Hall.