Chapter 11: A Drawer of Wax

Evander reached Highmere at dusk with the gelding blown and his hands raw.

He walked into the Chancellor's rooms without knocking.

Basil sat at his desk in a quilted gown, with a candle and a stack of letters.

He looked up and smiled.

"My boy.

"You're frozen.

"Sit."

"I want the Rask order," said Evander.

Basil's smile didn't move.

"The original?"

"The paper my family died on."

"Evander."

"Show me."

Basil studied him for a long moment.

Then he sighed, rose, and unlocked a carved chest under the window.

He took out a flat leather case, laid it open on the desk, and stepped back.

Evander looked down.

It was a single sheet, creamy and stiff.

It named treason, border passes sold to the enemy, and the fort of Rask to be taken by the Crown.

Its whole household was to be put to the sword.

At the bottom, in a boy's round hand, was written Florian Averell, Prince, and beside it stood the red lion seal.

Evander's ears rang.

"There," said Basil gently.

"I wished you never to see it.

"I thought it would break your heart twice."

"Who carried it to Rask Hold?"

"A captain of the border horse.

"He's dead these five years, of a fever."

"Who wrote the evidence?"

"The Crown's clerks.

"I've asked the same question, my boy.

"I've asked it for eight years."

He sounded so tired.

He lifted a hand to rub his eyes, and he took a ring of keys from his gown to lock the case.

"I need a glass of water," said Evander.

His voice was a croak.

"Of course."

Basil turned to the sideboard.

Evander stood alone at the desk with the order in front of him.

The shallow side drawer where Basil had taken the keys stood open.

Inside lay a row of little squares of stiff card, laid out neatly.

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