Act IV, Chapter 19: Aldric's Gambit — the Spymaster's Confession

The horses in the eastern stable knew something was wrong before their grooms did. Aldric had noticed this weeks ago — how the grey gelding in the third stall shifted its weight and twitched its ears toward the corridor whenever Lord Crenn passed through the courtyard below, some animal sensitivity to the particular quality of the man's tread. A useful thing to know. Aldric had made a habit, on his morning wanderings through the castle's less-trafficked passages, of noting what the horses noticed.

Lord Crenn passed through the eastern courtyard at the same hour each morning, in the same direction, at the same pace. Aldric had observed this for nineteen days. He had not gone near it for nineteen days. There was a performance of harmlessness to maintain, and harmlessness required a studied carelessness about routine — his own and others'. He let himself be seen drifting. He let himself be seen stopping to watch pigeons on the battlements, or crouching to examine the moss between flagstones with an expression of vacant fascination, or standing in doorways half a beat too long before remembering to move.

This morning he drifted into the eastern passage eleven minutes before Lord Crenn was scheduled to arrive.