——To the Knight, the pillars are set.
These were the words written on the small note in Shaslon's palm. His breath hitched momentarily before regaining its steady rhythm.
The plan was advancing smoothly, the joy and reassurance brought by each aspect of their initial concept being turned into reality were so forceful that he had to keep his face taut to prevent his feelings from showing.
The pillars—props in a nine-pillar game, set before the players and awaited to be struck by a wooden ball. The note used it as a cryptic reference to the fact that the conspirators in the military camp, army department, and the royal palace were ready. All they awaited now was the signal from the theatre.
He pulled out his pocket watch, its hands pointed at 9:37. While growing restless as three minutes crept by slowly, a huge gasp of awe erupted from the audience, drawing Shaslon's attention.
"You fraud of a pathfinder, who are you really?"
