Shadow of the Father (16 page)

“Then work with Velkan and your contacts. Find out what there is to know. The crown must be recovered, but it is best to avoid raising an alarm for as long as we can avoid it.”

“Yes, my lady. And what shall we do should the Confirmation day arrive and the crown still be missing?”

“Let us continue to ponder that,” she said, almost lightly. “Oh, I believe we should give more attention to the matter of Dinah. Can you discover whether she’s returned yet?”

Velkan nodded. “I will have it seen to.”

Corwin leaned forward. “Dinah was missing?”

“I fancied it simply a rebellious act from a young vixen. But now, I fear…” She stroked her whiskers.

“Yes,” Corwin said. “Or perhaps the two incidents are related in another way. What if she was the figure Yilon saw? What if she is working with the mice?”

Yilon stared at the polished metal table, not wanting to give himself away. He hadn’t identified the scent, but from the touch on his ear, he was sure the “fox” in the cloak had been Sinch.

“It’s possibly,” Lady Dewanne said. “It would surprise me.”

“And me,” Corwin said. “But we have been surprised before.”

Yilon raised his head in time to meet the eyes of Velkan. The governor raised his eyebrows very slightly. Yilon looked away, around the old stone arches supporting the ceiling of the dining hall, at the portraits of foxes gazing back down at him from the walls. They held the same reproach in their eyes. He looked down at the table.

“When we find Dinah, we can ask her,” Lady Dewanne said. “Now, leave me with Yilon. I would have some words with him.”

She looked steadily at him. Yilon fidgeted as Corwin and Velkan rose, bowed, and made their way out of the room. When the door had closed behind them, Lady Dewanne relaxed in her seat, shaking her head. Yilon curled his tail under his chair and waited for her to speak. He couldn’t have said why he felt the stab of guilt now, of all times. Perhaps it was the way she sagged when she relaxed, or perhaps it was the lack of accusation in her eyes. He felt an urge to speak, but held his tongue, waiting for her.

“I will not send you away,” she said finally.

His ears snapped back before he could help himself. Puzzlement clouded her eyes, even when he brought them up again, quickly, so he said, “But I can’t be king without the crown.”

“You can be Regent,” she said. “You will be Regent, when I’m gone, until the Confirmation can take place.”

“But I lost the crown,” he said.

“It was stolen.”

He pointed at the door. “They don’t think I’m fit to rule.”

Her voice grew sharper. She sat straight up in her chair. “They do not have the privilege of making that decision.”

“Do you think I’m fit to rule?”

She waved off his question. “You are the heir. You are the ruler, no matter what.”

“Even without the crown?”

“We will find the crown,” she said. “You will render every assistance to Velkan to expedite its retrieval.”

“What can I tell him?” Yilon slumped back in his chair. “Corwin was there, too.”

“You were closer to the crown.” Lady Dewanne leaned forward. “You may have noticed details. Velkan is very good at analyzing situations. Whereas Corwin’s strength is in analyzing people.”

“So he said.” Yilon folded his arms.

She held his eyes. Hers were light blue, but steady and hard. “If I were not more sure that your father has instilled in you the good sense and wisdom he possesses, I would be very curious about your role in the convenient disappearance of the symbol of a land you care little for and do not seem at all interested in ruling, by a group of the same species as your traveling companion from Divalia.” Heat pricked at his fur. He couldn’t believe he was that transparent.

It had been a good plan! All he could do was seize on her part of her statement he could confirm, so that he could deny the rest. “How do you expect me to be excited about ruling here? I have no friends here, no family.”

“Do you miss your family so much?”

He lowered his ears. “It’s not like Vinton.”

“Which, if I am not mistaken, already has an heir in your older brother.”

“Yes,” he grumbled, running his claws along the table edge.

“Listen to me,” she said, which such force that he jerked his head up. “We do not always get to choose our destinies. For you to reject this land would be inconsequential in another time. In this time, you are needed. Your birth and inheritance were arranged in advance by a wise lord who foresaw this need. Corwin thinks you will make a good ruler, and perhaps it is best that you have no emotional ties to Dewanne. But you will not abdicate this duty, and you will not leave this land leaderless and adrift. I will not allow it. Nor will your father.” It registered with him that that was the second time she’d mentioned his father as though Lord Dewanne were still alive. Or as though she knew the truth. “My… my father is dead,” he said softly. “Oh, no, Yilon. My nose may not be as sharp as it was when I was young, but I lived with my dear Sheffin for twenty years. I am not as certain that you are truly his son as you are.”

“Then…” He sat up. “You’re not sending me home?”

“As much as Maxon would like me to, no.”

His ears folded back. “Does he know, too?”

“I have not asked. But he, too, knew Sheffin well. I would not be surprised.”

Yilon rubbed his fingers along the surface of the table. “He hates me.”

“He will not be the last.” She said it almost lightly. “People hate lords for many reasons, some good, some not. Most good, I am sorry to say.”

“If you’d had cubs, I wouldn’t even be here,” Yilon muttered, but regretted it instantly as Lady Dewanne’s ears flattened, her eyes lowering. “But there have to be others who could assume the title, too” he said, trying to recover. “There are five noble families. None of them has the right bloodline?”

Her ears remained down as she answered. “There are five noble cubs in your generation. It will be six in three months when Llarina Durenin delivers. Three are male, all under the age of seven. They have not yet even been Sung in the church. There were three male cubs older than you, from eighteen years up to thirty. To a one, they left Dewanne to seek their fortunes elsewhere once it became known that Sheffin did not look favorably on any of them. Only one unmarried female cub of age remains. She is fifteen and of excellent character.”

“What’s wrong with her? A lady can hold the title, can’t she?”

“Of course.” She lifted her muzzle, showing a brief flash of amusement. “However, it becomes more difficult when it is impossible to locate her. Dinah is the one who’s gone missing.”

“Oh.” Yilon’s head sank.

“And also, by the way, your betrothed.”

 
This was the part of the plan that Sinch was most worried about, but he’d always been rather good at improvising. It took him very little time to find a sleepy, run-down side street, and not much longer to find a house that smelled empty. Around the back way, hidden from other eyes, he found a loose back door and let himself inside, down into the basement. A pile of disused sacks of rotting leather made the perfect hiding place. He made sure none of the satchel’s newer leather was showing, then let himself out of the house.

As he slipped around the back, his whiskers tingled. There’d been no sound, nor scent he could detect, but something didn’t feel right to him. He paused, looking around the chest-high metal railing and the small yard full of weeds. The smell of the weeds was strong, as was the rotting smell of the leather on his paws, but there was nothing else other than the reek of the disguise he was wearing. Nerves, he scolded himself as he hurried back to the alley.

Back on the main street, the crowd of foxes obscured any other scent he might have picked up. He dodged back and forth, slowing only when he saw a short tod stare at him inquisitively. It took him a second to figure out that what was making him stand out was that none of the other foxes were moving as quickly through the crowd. He slowed, keeping his hood down as he made his way behind the castle to a secluded area where he could safely get rid of the disguise.

When it was safely in its sack again, he leaned against the stone wall and breathed deeply, working his neck in a circle to loosen it. The breeze from the city carried the scent of foxes, as it did everywhere in Dewanne except for the Warren. He put it to his back and walked out from the shadow of the castle, around a small cluster of shrubs and down the dirt slope to the southern edge of the Warren.

Two bored guards lifted their muzzles as he came into view, ears perking up. “Bit late for garbage collection,” the first said, sniffing the air.

“Sorry,” Sinch said, and then added, “sir,” to be extra-cautious.

They waited for more explanation, but when he didn’t talk, the second guard’s ears drifted back to a bored position. The first narrowed his eyes. “You’ll hafta pay a late tax.”

Sinch’s heart beat faster. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in a confrontation. “Sir?

“Aw, leave it,” the second guard said. “What, you want to get a couple old bones? He don’t got nothin’.”

“I don’t have anything, sir,” Sinch said.

“Shut up,” the second guard told him.

The first guard’s ears had slipped back to their bored position. He picked his teeth with a claw, showing off the long row of sharp yellow points. “G’wan, then,” he told Sinch, and waved him through.

“Thank you, sir,” Sinch said, scurrying past.

“Shut up,” the second guard called after him, punctuating the order with a yawn.

He picked his way around a pile of broken straw chairs, squeezed through a narrow gap between two houses that left his fur damp and trailing spiderwebs, and scrambled up a ladder of table legs to the second floor window of his room in Miss Chakray’s house. He didn’t mean to stop there, just to use it as a shortcut to get across the street to Balinni’s, but as he crossed the floor, his eyes came to rest on his loose floorboard. Cold he bribe Balinni to forget about the crown? Especially considering he didn’t know what it was?

It was something to keep in mind. Best not take the money with him in case something bad happened. But not a bad idea. Everyone had a price and he suspected he had more money than some foxes in this town did, let alone any of the mice. He ran down the stairs and through the common area, out into the street and across to Balinni’s.

Valix showed him into the inner room without even asking him to wait. “You missed the meeting.”

“I thought there was someone after me. I had to just come back here.” He was relieved to see her accept his rehearsed excuse.

“Well, it was nice work,” she said. “I wouldn’t have noticed it myself if I hadn’t been looking. What was it?”

“Ask him,” Sinch jerked his head toward the office as he followed her inside.

She grumbled. “Sinch to see you,” she announced.

Balinni looked up from behind the table he’d been eating at earlier that day. When he saw Sinch, he pushed the papers aside to make room for the sack. “Leave us,” he said to Valix.

Sinch placed the disguise carefully on the table. Balinni opened the sack reached in to touch each part of it, then placed it on the floor. “How did it go?”

“Excellent.” Sinch waved a paw toward the disguise. “It worked perfectly.”

“Kishin is a reliable favorite.” Balinni beamed paternally at the sack. “So, show me the haul.”

Courage. Confidence. Sinch breathed in. “I hid it.”

The scarred mouse’s eyebrows rose. “How interesting.” He folded his paws on the table. “Am I to assume that you expect something further from us than providing the personnel and the means to act on the information you had obtained?”

“I’ve, er, developed sort of an attachment to it.” Sinch breathed in, willing his heart to slow. “I was wondering if I might just buy it from you.”

Balinni laughed. “Are you, now? Well, if you might get your paws on ten gold Royals, we might be able to begin having a discussion.”

“Ten?” Sinch stood straighter. “I was thinking it was worth more like two.”

Balinni spread his paws. “I’ve no way to judge that, so I’m left to rely on what I know of the Dewanne treasury. Which is—no offense—rather more than you do, I’ll wager.” He grinned. “I will wager, too, if you like.”

Sinch’s heart sank. He forced himself to look Balinni in the eye. “What if I could get five?”

“Five is better than two,” Balinni said. “But nine is better than five.”

“I don’t think I could get more than six.”

“I don’t know that my curiosity could be put off for six.”

Sinch sighed. “I really can’t get more than six.”

Balinni studied him. “All right, he said. “If you can get six, I’ll deal with my curiosity somehow. Six gold is a nice haul, even if I have to give one to the other four. So what will you leave me until you return with the six?”

Sean hadn’t expected him to give in so quickly. “Leave you? I don’t…” He looked down at his plain tunic and trousers. “I don’t have anything to leave you.”

“Not your dagger?”

The one Yilon had given him. He swallowed. “I’d rather not be defenseless.”

Balinni’s smile was too perfect, too calm. “Of course you wouldn’t. But what else do you have?”

“Nothing.” Sinch let his paw rest at his waist, on the hilt of the knife hidden under his tunic. He remembered Yilon’s smile as he’d handed it to him. “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave the knife with you.”

“Well, it’s not worth six gold,” Balinni leaned back, looking smug.

Sinch gaped at him. “But…”

“I just wanted to see if you would part with it.”

“It’s from the Divalia armory!”

The scar on Balinni’s eyebrow lowered. “Now, that is interesting. But it’s still not worth six gold.”

“You…”

Balinni shook his head. “I am a business owner,” he said. “I’m afraid this doesn’t strike me as a very sound business deal without something left behind.”

“But I don’t have anything else.” Sinch was beginning to wonder whether he would be allowed to leave unharmed, even with the insurance of the crown.

Balinni seemed to read his mind. “Ah, then I can’t allow you to leave me.”