The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1) (29 page)

Formalities observed, Blaine, Robin, and their company of fifty swordsmen arrived in Loxton Castle’s parklands just after noon.

Taran and Denny were there to meet them. Denny greeted them with a formal salute and took Dexter and the swordsmen, along with Blaine’s and Robin’s mounts, off to the barracks. Taran fell into step beside the General as he and Robin made their way up to the castle.

“Where’s Vassa?” asked Blaine.

“Still questioning the men from the mason’s workshop,” said Taran. “The King’s angry and worried, and he’s determined to apprehend the culprit as soon as possible.”

“Is he convinced one of the masons did it?” asked Robin as they reached the steps to the castle doors.

Taran shrugged. “I think he’s
hoping
it was one of them.”

Blaine and Robin removed their cloaks, handing them to the servant behind the door. Taran led the way to where the men were held, noting Blaine’s piercing look at the way he’d phrased his answer. The General said nothing, following Taran with his expression set. Robin looked thoughtful and exchanged a meaningful glance with Taran.

The Adept led them to the rooms being used to hold and question the mason’s men. The interview room was attached to an even smaller anteroom where Elias currently sat, listening through the half-open door to the Colonel’s questions and the men’s answers. Vassa had shrewdly persuaded Elias to this arrangement, knowing the King’s presence would both alarm and fluster the citizens he was interrogating. They were frightened enough without having to contend with the presence of their King.

Taran showed the General and Robin into the anteroom. Elias glanced up as they entered and waved them all to seats.

Vassa was just finishing with the second man he’d interviewed, and the four men in the anteroom heard him release the laborer to the guard. As he was escorted away, Vassa came through to join them, raising his brows at Elias. “What do you think, my Lord? I didn’t get the impression he knew anything of significance.”

Elias grunted agreement. Blaine turned to him. “I have a suggestion to make. It’ll save time if the Major here conducts the rest of the interviews. His Artesan senses should detect any deception or falsehood. You and I need to discuss our visit to Lerric and the arrangements for the security of the castle.”

Elias nodded and Blaine glanced at Vassa.

“Jerrim, please show the Major where the men are being held and then join us in the King’s audience chamber.”

Elias was drawn firmly in the General’s wake as Vassa turned to lead Robin to where the mason’s men were held. Taran followed. Vassa, relieved to be handing this task to someone else, left them at the door and walked away.

“I take it both you and Brynne suspect the Baron’s hand in this?”

Robin looked up at Taran’s question, his expression somber. “She definitely does. I’m trying to keep an open mind, but it’s hard in the face of her conviction. I think Blaine’s convinced too, although you’ll not get him to admit it. He’ll instruct Vassa to be doubly vigilant while the King is away, and I’d advise you to do the same. You’re not exactly the Baron’s favorite person, either. What have you told Jinny, by the way?” Taran turned away, but Robin had seen his discomfiture. “What is it?”

Taran had no choice but to tell him of his troubles, and Robin’s expression was serious when he was done.

“So she still believes he’s dead?” He shook his head dubiously. “I think you ought to tell her what we suspect, regardless of the state of your relationship. She’ll hear the news of Neremiah’s murder soon enough, and she’s perfectly capable of adding two and two. Do you really want her to sit and stew over the possibilities? Do you want her accusing you of keeping this from her? You ought to alert her to be on her guard, too. I imagine the Baron would just love to get his revenge on her for what she did to betray him. Does she have reliable servants who could double as guards?”

Taran stared in horror. “Do you seriously think he’d try for Jinny? That he’s here in Port Loxton? Oh, good gods, what if he’s hiding out on the estate? Bloody hell, Robin, I have to warn her—!”

Robin laid a hand on the Adept’s arm. “Steady, Taran. You can’t go haring off just yet. The King might require your services. And I doubt very much the Baron’s here. Sullyan thinks he’s working through an agent. So slow down. You can go and speak with Jinny this evening once we’ve left for Bordenn. I doubt anything more will happen for the time being. Reen must know the city will be swarming with King’s Guard for the next few days. He or his agent wouldn’t dare try anything else until that’s died down.”

Taran calmed under Robin’s reasoning, knowing the Major was right. Taran wasn’t free until the King and his company left the castle. To divert his mind, he accompanied Robin while the Major questioned the mason’s five men.

“A
s far as I can tell, your Majesty, none of them are guilty of anything more serious than appropriating the odd piece of marble for their own use. Certainly none of them are guilty of Lord Neremiah’s murder. And none of them know anything about the knife or the offertory chest.”

Elias sighed in frustration and leaned back in his chair, gripping the upholstered leather arms. He stared into the fire in his private audience chamber, General Blaine, Colonel Vassa, and Taran watching to see what his reaction would be. Robin stood before him, at ease after giving his verdict, and Elias regarded him with weary resignation.

“I was afraid you’d say that. Not that I thought Withen or his men were capable of such a horrific act. But this leaves us no closer to an answer and we still have a dangerous killer on the loose—one calculating enough to plant incriminating evidence. So what do we do now?”

The King directed both his gaze and his question to the General. Blaine pursed his lips.

“I know you don’t want to leave the city with this unresolved, but we’re committed. We have to leave in an hour if we’re to arrive at our lodgings in daylight. My messenger will already have alerted Lerric to your visit and we can’t back out now. Leave the investigation to Jerrim and Denny. They’re quite capable of handling things on their own. And the murderer is probably well away from the city by now, if he’s got any sense. He’s probably hiding out with those damned brigands in Loxton Forest.”

Elias wasn’t happy, but he couldn’t argue with Blaine’s logic. He had no choice, much as he hated the thought of leaving with such a vicious murderer uncaught. He cast his gaze to Vassa. “See if you can’t do something about those brigands while we’re gone, Colonel. And tighten up the city’s security as much as you can. It galls me to think some evil fellow can just walk into Loxton, murder the Arch Patrio, steal all that gold, and then just walk out again. If we have to search everyone entering or leaving in order to stop this kind of thing, we’ll do it. Yes, yes, I know the merchants would be up in arms and the nobility would petition for their rights of privacy, but if that’s what it takes to keep them safe then I’m sure they can be made to see reason. I
won’t
tolerate such brutal assaults and do nothing to ensure they don’t happen again. I want to see some progress in this matter when I return. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, your Majesty,” Vassa replied evenly, though Blaine knew he’d be wincing at the thought of all the extra work and the barrage of protests he’d have to field. Denny wouldn’t be happy either. Such security measures were unlikely to be effective, not with the amount of trade that passed through Loxton.

Elias had turned to give Taran last-minute instructions as to what he expected to be informed upon while he was away, and Blaine left him to it. With Robin by his side, he made his way to the garrison.

+ + + + +

“W
hat’s the meaning of this? A royal visit? Tomorrow? What are you talking about, man? We always get at least a week’s notice! Is this some prank? Because if it is, I can assure you—”

Corporal Wil Gerion pulled his orders from his jacket and handed them to Lerric’s Captain of the Guard, the sun-circled crown seal of the House of Rovannon uppermost. He had been greeted with incredulity, unprofessionalism, and contempt by everyone from the gate guards to the stable boy and his patience was at an end.

“No prank, Captain. I believe you’ll find these in order. High King Elias will arrive tomorrow morning, escorted by General Blaine and a company of fifty. The General and his Major will expect quarters within the palace. The company and their captain will quarter in the barracks. I strongly suggest you appoint a clean-up detail to work through the night. The High King will not be impressed if he’s forced to dismount into ankle-deep muck in the courtyard. Now, if you’re satisfied as to the validity of my message, would you be so good as to present me to his Majesty?”

The Captain shut the mouth that had dropped open as he read the parchment. Color rushed to his face as he barked orders at a subordinate, sending the man scuttling off to do his bidding. The Captain’s demeanor was improved as he turned again to Wil. “I’m sorry for the manner of your welcome, Corporal …?”

“Gerion.”

“Corporal Gerion. It’s just that this is such an unexpected development. We’ve always had plenty of warning before something as momentous as a state visit from the High King. You wouldn’t happen to know the reason for it?”

Wil wasn’t going to be caught like that. “If you’d just show me through to his Majesty, Captain. I don’t think he should be kept waiting any longer, do you? I imagine he’ll want all the time he can get to prepare for the King’s arrival.”

“This way, Corporal.” The thin man turned on his heel and led Wil down a corridor; this one brightly lit, warm, and richly adorned with tapestries, a stark contrast to the cold and dreary halls Wil had passed through on his arrival. They met no one on their way and Wil guessed Lerric’s palace was largely unused in winter with few nobles in residence, if any, so he chose not to waste gold on heating or torches. This was understandable and was only good housekeeping on the part of the chatelaine, though Wil would have thought a client king of Lerric’s standing would have a larger court than this. Why, even the Manor was more comfortably furnished—and vastly more crowded.

They eventually came to a door adorned with Lerric’s crest of an athletic hunting dog bringing down some fearsome mythical creature. The emblem was worked in gold on the oak door, and the hinges and latches were all decorated with gold leaf. This was more the style Wil expected to see. He knew from reputation Lerric was a shrewd bargainer and a hoarder of his wealth, but Wil couldn’t imagine why anyone as wealthy as Lerric would not display some of that richness for his subjects’ benefit.

The Captain rapped sharply on the door, which opened to reveal a glimpse of a sumptuous room, redolent with firelight, warmth, and several appetizing smells that set Wil’s empty stomach growling.

The Captain conferred in hushed tones with the servant who had opened the door and then turned to Wil. “I’ll leave you to deliver your message, Corporal. Once you’re done, come and see me and I’ll arrange billeting for you. There’s a room you can use within the castle; it’ll make up for your lack of proper welcome as befits a messenger from the High King. And the food’s better than in the barracks.” He grinned at Wil’s appreciative expression then turned and left. Wil directed his gaze to the servant who stood just behind the open door.

“Wait here until you are called, please,” the servant told him, leaving Wil at the door. Wil could hear his low voice as he informed Lerric of his visitor, and then the sound of his feet as he returned. The servant beckoned Wil forward, announcing his name and purpose. Wil looked around Lerric’s private audience chamber with curiosity as he paced toward where Lerric sat in a leather settle in front of a roaring log fire.

The room wasn’t large, but it was supremely comfortable. The flagged floor was fully carpeted and many rich tapestries adorned the gray stone walls. Sumptuous red hangings fell in graceful folds at the three huge windows, drawn against the cold. Three intricate chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling and fragrant oil lamps burned in their niches. Wil compared this luxury to the austerity of the rest of the palace and guessed Lerric was more careful of his own comforts than he was of the rest of his court.

As he approached Lerric’s chair he turned his scrutiny to the client king. He was around sixty years of age, tall, spare, but still agile. His gray eyes mirrored the sternness of his daughter’s, but disillusionment and discontent had not embittered Lerric’s gaze as it had Sofira’s. His eyes held puzzlement, as Wil expected, but the swordsman could also see a measure of fear, which gave him cause to wonder. The suddenness of Elias’s visit was bound to raise wary curiosity, but Wil could think of no reason for fear unless Lerric’s affairs weren’t as Elias wished them. The Corporal filed away his first impressions to relate to his major later.

He halted a respectful distance from the king of Bordenn, bowed, and went down on one knee. “Your Majesty, I bring you greetings from High King Elias of Albia and present to you this notice of his intention to visit your palace on the morrow. He bids me request suitable lodgings within your palace for himself, his general, and major, and informs you he will bring an honor guard of fifty swordsmen, to be quartered among your own men. I have here his letter. May I pass it to you?”

Lerric nodded, indicating Wil should rise. The king hadn’t betrayed one glimmer of his thoughts during Wil’s speech, but he had flicked a swift glance at the room’s other occupant, sitting straight-backed and proud on a hard chair to his right. As Wil stood and passed the General’s parchment into Lerric’s hand, he bowed respectfully to Lerric’s brittle-faced daughter.

“Your Highness.”

Sofira took less notice of him than she would of a scullery maid come to tend the fire. Her stony gray eyes fastened on the parchment in her father’s hands, her stern face chalky. Wil would have appreciated time to study her at some length, sensing a strange disquiet within the former queen. He hadn’t imagined she would feel pleasure at the thought of her erstwhile husband’s visit, but the aura of tense fear she exuded went beyond what Wil had expected. Yet another piece of information to relate to his superiors.