Read Clariel: The Lost Abhorsen (The Abhorsen Trilogy Book 4) for Free Online Page B

done a few moments before, as if declining Kilp’s invitation was akin to Clariel putting her head on the block. Or maybe Valannie’s head, since Clariel doubted the maid was at heart concerned with anyone other than herself.
    “Oh, milady! After such a terrible ordeal, surely you should accept the Governor’s kind offer and go straight home? I can buy everything you need, I have your sizes and—”
    “I prefer to do it myself,” said Clariel. “By your leave, sir?”
    She bowed to Kilp again, and took a step backward.
    “You are brave,” said the Guildmaster. “If perhaps a little headstrong. We must take care nothing happens to you. Roban, take two of my guards. Whomsoever you please. Lady Clariel, till we meet again . . .”
    He inclined his head, and strode past, a couple of his men running ahead, while most of them fell in behind. As they passed, Roban gestured to a tall man with a scarlet-dyed beard, who stepped out and waited, and then again to a woman with a scar across her chin that drew the corner of her mouth down, who also left the marchers.
    “Heyren and Linel,” Roban said shortly. “Used to be Royal Guards, like me.”
    “Milady,” said Heyren, the red-bearded guard. Scar-faced Linel simply bobbed her head.
    “What was that all—” Clariel started to ask, but Roban shook his head again, and looked meaningfully at Valannie, who was staring after the departing Governor. Perhaps sensing Clariel’s attention, she turned, and cocked her head in the attitude of a faithful servant agog to hear the next command.
    “Such a wonderful man,” she said, following it up with an annoying laugh. “He’s quite revitalized the city government, the Guild . . . everything! Now, where shall we . . . yes, Parillin’s first. There is much to do!”
    She bustled away. Clariel, flanked by her three guards, followed thoughtfully. Only a few houses along, Valannie turned into an open doorway hung with curtains of a rich velvet, tied back with broad bands of a saffron-colored cloth. Evidently this was the house and shop of Parillin the cloth merchant.
    As Valannie entered, Clariel pretended to slip on the paved street. Catching Roban’s arm for support, she whispered close to his ear.
    “I want to know what is going on.”
    “Soon as I can, milady,” replied Roban, out of the corner of his mouth. “Can’t talk just anywhere.”

Chapter Three
    PLOTS AND MACHINATIONS
    W hen Clariel joined her father at the head table for dinner, above the mass of apprentices and servants on the longer table below, he didn’t mention the attack on her. She chose not to bring it up for the time being, because she didn’t know what was behind it, or the complications it might lead to, when she wanted to keep everything as simple as possible before she could escape the city. Jaciel, as was not unusual, was absent from dinner, no doubt working on something she did not want to leave.
    In any case, there wasn’t much opportunity to talk, with the apprentices becoming rowdy and needing quelling, and Harven’s very vocal dissatisfaction with some of the courses, most notably the grilled eels that were served poking out of a giant pastry shaped as sea coral. Everyone else ate them with relish, while Harven summoned the cook to complain about the spices used, or not used. Clariel didn’t bother to listen, and ate steadily, her thoughts far away as usual, imagining a life in the forest.
    After dinner, Clariel went to the roof garden, to watch the sun set and get away from the organization of her new wardrobe, which Valannie had entered into with considerable fervor. It had taken all afternoon to buy a vast array of cloth, get tediously measured numerous times, and order what seemed like dozens of items of clothing, in addition to picking up ready-made clothes that Valannie thought would just serve until the new clothes could be made. It all cost a huge amount, more than forty gold bezants, a sum Clariel thought she could have