Kristian Frostborne's Arc

Chapter 9 of 9

Kristian entered the kitchens with Aldus dead behind him. The heat of the ovens pressed against the ice keep's crystal walls. Steam rose to the high ceiling and clung there like frost. Cooks bent over pots. Boys hauled water. Kristian did not look at their faces. He watched their feet. His hands wanted to grab the first limping figure and drag him to the courtyard. But grief made a poor judge. If he named the wrong boy, the greybeard would learn how blind he had become. He forced himself to stand still by the door and watch. Anger throbbed in his skull. Every boy who dropped a spoon looked guilty. He nearly seized a thin one who stumbled at the hearth. Then he saw the boy step full on both feet and walk true. Not him. Kristian breathed. He remembered Aldus's words. Watch the walk, not the limp a boy shows on purpose. A liar hides the limp by rolling onto the outer edge of his boots. So he waited. He counted feet the way he had counted nobles in the throne room. Three boys carried trays past him. Their soles struck flat. A fourth came from the storeroom, the same storeroom where Aldus had died. This boy had dark shaggy hair and a stained apron. He walked on the sides of his boots. Each step rolled outward to hide the catch in his leg. Kristian's blood ran cold and steady now, not hot. He moved between the boy and the door. "You. Kitchen boy. Your name." The boy's dark eyes narrowed. He did not bow. "Tobias, my lord. Tobias Crook." His voice held no fear, only a flat, hard edge. "You served in the storeroom this morning." "I fetch and carry. That's all." Tobias shifted his weight. The limp broke through for one moment before he rolled it away again. Kristian saw it. He did not shout. He did not strike. He knelt to the boy's height, the way he had knelt beside Aldus. "Walk to me," he said. "Ten steps." Tobias's jaw tightened. He knew the trap now. He tried to walk clean, but ten steps was too many. By the fifth his hip dropped. He limped. His face went white under the flush of the ovens. "You carried the locket to the queen's chamber," Kristian said. "You put black powder in an old man's food." He kept his voice quiet so no other ear caught it. "Aldus taught me to read feet. His last gift was you." Tobias lunged for the storeroom. Kristian caught his collar and pinned him against the cold wall. Guards came at his call. This time Kristian had the right boy. He was certain, and certainty was clean. "Take him below," Kristian said. "Alive. He knows where the greybeard hides." The boy who served his enemy now served Kristian's purpose. Grief had not blinded him. It had sharpened him.