But sleep didn’t immediately come. She lay on her back staring at the invisible ceiling. Someone trying to start a war. How unbelievably selfish and arrogant. Her unknown enemy would throw the country into turmoil and disaster just to make themselves King, or Queen. It infuriated Elspeth. Finally, she clasped the toan jade to her chest and traced the meditation rituals, from the first to the fifth, then counted knots in the cord until she fell asleep.
Elspeth sat in her not-a-throne and waited for the furor to die off somewhat. Then she stood, placing her palms flat on the reassuring smooth solidity of the table, and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, your anger and confusion are reasonable. However, Mister Faraday’s investigation makes it clear that more is going on than the simple matter of imminent war. If he is correct, we are looking for someone who would benefit from that war. However angry we are with Ruskald right now, it doesn’t benefit anyone for us to act on that anger. I will be meeting with Ambassador Larssin later today in the hope that I can ease tensions and prevent war.”
“I hope you didn’t imply that you were a petitioner in requesting his presence,” Lord Harrington said.
“No, Lord Harrington, as far as Larssin is concerned, we still believe his man tried to assassinate me, and that puts him in a subordinate position.” Elspeth turned to Master Keswick. “Did we send Jeramen’s Bequest yet?”
“Not yet, your Majesty.”
“Then I’ll take that with me. It may still work. Mister Faraday, you had some remarks?”
“Thank you, your Majesty.” Faraday stood. “As her Majesty suggests, we now believe some unknown person or organization is interested in pitting Tremontane against Ruskald. It seems this entity wants war as cover for some other action, possibly making a play for the Crown. If that’s the case, they will have plans already in place that will take effect as soon as war is declared. I believe some of those plans may affect your departments, and might be something you’re aware of. I’m asking each of you to evaluate your departments with this in mind. Large deposits being withdrawn from the Bank of Aurilien, excessive movement along the post roads, even unscheduled slaughters of farm animals might be the sign someone is preparing to move. Anything you notice, even if you think it’s nothing, bring it to my department’s attention.” He sat down.
“Thank you, Mister Faraday,” Elspeth said. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“I believe we should still maintain readiness along the border, without doing anything to antagonize the Ruskalder,” Lord Harrington said. “I would like to send agents into the area to gather intelligence. They will be very discreet,” he hurried to add as Elspeth opened her mouth to object.
“That’s a good idea, Lord Harrington. It’s still possible none of this will matter, and we’ll be fighting a war anyway, so we need to be prepared for that outcome as well.” Elspeth rose once again. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll let you know what comes of the meeting with Ambassador Larssin.”
She found herself next to Lady Quinn as they left the Council chamber. “Did you enjoy your birthday outing?” she asked impulsively. It might be a mistake, but she wanted this woman for a friend.
Lady Quinn smiled, a rueful expression. “I think I owe you thanks, and an apology,” she said. “I believed Randolph—Lord Chadwick—cared for me, but it seems he was only interested in the prestige of escorting the Countess of Waxwold in public. We argued, he left, and I returned home, much relieved. I wish I’d attended your gala instead.”
“No! You really should have your own celebration. Though mine was quite exciting enough, what with Ambassador Larssin bursting in like he wanted to tear the room apart.” They turned the corner at the bottom of the ramp. Elspeth realized Faraday was right behind her, and wondered if she should move to make way for his longer stride.
Lady Quinn sighed. “The nicest part was the gift my mother gave me—a cocker spaniel puppy. I do love dogs, don’t you?”
Elspeth thought of the ivory collie dog. “I like other people’s dogs. I would be a terrible dog owner, though.”
“Oh, but you must have received so many wonderful gifts!” Lady Quinn’s smile grew mischievous. “From so many attractive men, yes?”
“Yes, but I confess to being frustrated about the best one. Someone picked the perfect gift for me and then didn’t sign his name! How am I supposed to know which young man to single out if the one I’m most interested in is…I don’t know if he’s shy, or just wants to drive me mad.”
“What is it?”
“A bracelet. A jade bracelet.” Her previous resolve had failed her this morning, and she hadn’t worn it, once more fearing the worst. “And I can’t wear it because suppose it was a gift from someone hideous? That would be so awkward.”
“If it’s perfect, you should wear it anyway, and never mind the consequences,” Lady Quinn said. They stopped outside Lady Quinn’s office and made way for Faraday, who brushed past without acknowledging either of them.
“That’s what I told myself yesterday, but this morning I was a coward,” Elspeth said with a laugh.
Lady Quinn laughed with her. “Well, stop being a coward. If it came from someone wonderful, how sorry you would be to miss out on that!”
Elspeth thought about that all the way to her office. Lady Quinn’s words, so closely matching her own thoughts, gave her new resolve. She would wear the perfect gift, and not worry about what message it sent.
At ten o’clock she went with her guards to the gold receiving room, her favorite of the many rooms intended for the Queen to greet supplicants or royal messengers…or ambassadors. It was called the gold receiving room because the carpet and the furnishings were all colored goldenrod, and gilding lined the moldings and made thin stripes over the white and goldenrod wallpaper. The chair in the center of the room looked even more like a throne than her Council chamber seat did. After a moment’s thought, she had the guards drag two of the chairs lining the walls to a spot just inside the door, facing each other.
She sat in the one of those two farthest from the door and folded her hands in her lap, waiting. The guards ranged themselves around the room, with the one holding Jeramen’s Bequest standing immediately behind her. Time passed. The ambassador was late. Elspeth judged this was the only way he could legitimately show defiance and keep his self-respect, at least as he thought of it. She was willing to allow him that much.
The door opened, revealing the North guard who’d been standing outside, a couple of men in Ruskalder furs bearing the long- and shortswords that were traditional for Ruskalder warriors, and Ambassador Larssin, looking belligerent. He looked around the room before entering, followed by his warriors. “They stay by the door,” Elspeth said.
“I do not go without them,” Larssin said, stopping a few feet from the empty chair.
“I know. They can come in. But they don’t get any closer to me than that. One of your men nearly assassinated me last night.”
“That is not—” Larssin bellowed. The North guards twitched, hands going for their swords. He subsided, though he still looked furious.
“Sit, and we’ll talk about it,” Elspeth said.
Larssin glared at her a moment longer. Then he sat, his legs spread wide as if he wanted to take up as much space as possible.
“Who was the assassin?” Elspeth said, keeping the deception going a little longer.
“We not know,” Larssin ground out, “because is not mine. I tell you this. I tell your dog this. Not ours.”
Elspeth considered telling Faraday Larssin thought he was her dog and concluded he wouldn’t find it as funny as she did. “Are you sure? How else would he have gotten in?”
Larssin shrugged. “I have many men. Do not count.”
“Sloppy. But,” Elspeth held up a hand, forestalling an explosion, “it turns out you’re right. That assassin wasn’t your man. We’re not even sure he was Ruskalder.”
Astonishment made Larssin’s face a series of circles, round eyes, round mouth, round
face. “But…I do not understand.”
“Neither do we. We think someone wants to put our governments at odds, and made it look like Ruskald tried to have me killed.”
Larssin’s wide eyes narrowed. “Who would do this?”
Elspeth shook her head. “We’re still trying to figure that out.”
“I kill,” Larssin said. “They make us fight, they die.”
“I’m angry about it too. About being used. But one thing I do know is there’s no reason for our countries to fight.” Elspeth gestured to the guard behind her to come forward. “Tremontane would like to show its respect for its northern neighbor by giving you…this. In the rite of the tjorak.”
Stunned, Larssin didn’t resist when the guard handed him Jeramen’s Bequest and laid Elspeth’s letter atop it. “The formalities are all there,” Elspeth said, “but I hope Ruskald understands Tremontane intends to deal forthrightly with its people.”
Larssin looked at the wooden shield, then back at Elspeth. “I must see it,” he said. “To accept or not. But I say…it is a good step.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Larssin.” Elspeth rose. Larssin stood half a breath behind her. “And if we find out who is behind this plot, we will be sure to tell you. After Tremontanan justice has been served,” she said, warning him when his eyes lit with an unholy fury. Larssin still looked angry, but he nodded.
Elspeth waited for him to precede her out of the room, then gestured to her guards to form up. They watched Larssin until he disappeared around a corner, escorted by more Tremontanan guards, and then Elspeth and her squad went the other way.
The north wing was busier than usual when she returned. She dismissed her guards and walked down the hall toward her office, surprised when people ran past her without acknowledging her. Ahead, a knot of people hovered at Branton’s desk, all of them talking loudly enough that their words were a tangle of sound she didn’t understand.
Her steps slowed as she approached Branton’s desk. Lord Harrington stood there, arguing with Branton, who looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but there but was holding his own against the Council lord. Lady d’Arden stood nearby, looking terribly conflicted. And Master Erica Withers of the Finance department, leaning on Branton’s desk, kept trying to interrupt the argument with no success.
“Excuse me,” Elspeth said, “but what is going on?”
The argument stopped. “Your Majesty—” Lord Harrington began.
“Your Majesty, I have been trying to explain that no one is allowed in your office when you aren’t there!” Branton exclaimed. He sounded so frustrated Elspeth’s heart went out to him.
“You’re right, Mister Branton. Ladies and gentlemen, if you were trying to persuade Mister Branton to let you into my office, you were wasting your breath.”
“Your Majesty,” Lord Harrington said in a calmer voice, “it is essential that we enter your office to retrieve a key piece of information.”
“That doesn’t change what I said, Lord Harrington. You can wait for me to accompany you. What information are we talking about?”
“It’s—” Lord Harrington looked past Elspeth down the hall. “Mister Faraday.”
Elspeth turned. Faraday strode toward them, his eyes on Elspeth. “Your Majesty, I need to talk to you,” he said.
“It sounds like you will have to form a queue,” Elspeth said lightly. “Lord Harrington, you were saying?”
Lord Harrington drew himself up to his full impressive height. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I accuse Duncan Faraday of high treason against the Crown.”
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“What?” Elspeth exclaimed, whipping around to stare at Faraday. He looked utterly astonished, staring at Lord Harrington as if he’d had all the wind knocked out of him. “Treason? Mister Faraday?”
“We have evidence,” Lord Harrington said. “If you’d allow us into your office?”
Elspeth cast one last look at Faraday. The astonished look had disappeared, replaced with an impassivity that frightened Elspeth more than anger would have. She led the way down the hall and opened the office door. “Inside. Everyone.”
Once inside, Elspeth sat in her chair and watched the others mill about. Nobody took the other chair. Harrington strode up to the desk and put his hands behind his back as if he were a Scholia Master prepared to lecture a class. “Mister Faraday himself asked us to investigate our departments for signs of someone preparing to move against the Crown,” he said. “Lady d’Arden, please tell her Majesty what you told me.”
Lady d’Arden still looked horribly conflicted. She shot a glance at Faraday, who ignored her. “Your Majesty,” she said, “did you mean to sell off The Junipers?”
“I…what is The Junipers?” Elspeth asked, feeling increasingly confused.
“A royal residence in Barony Marandis,” Lord Harrington said. “It is very valuable property, used by the Crown as a summer retreat.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of it, so it’s unlikely I’d sell it off,” Elspeth said.
“But you did, your Majesty,” Lady d’Arden said. She produced a sheet of paper and handed it to Elspeth. Elspeth examined it. It was a deed of sale, and The Junipers was described in it. The amount—Elspeth swallowed. Very valuable property. The signature at the bottom…
Elspeth looked up. “This isn’t my signature.”
Master Withers tensed. Lord Harrington exchanged glances with Lady d’Arden. “It appears to be your signature.”
“I realize that, but I recognize my signature. This is close, but it’s not the same. This is a forgery.”
“That confirms my suspicions,” Lord Harrington said. “I accuse Mister Faraday of forging your signature and pocketing the money from the sale of The Junipers.”
“That is a lie,” Faraday said.
Elspeth’s heart sank. His voice was emotionless, his face a blank, and she’d never heard anyone sound more guilty of anything in her life.
“There’s nothing here that condemns Mister Faraday,” she said, hoping she was right. “Why him?”
Lord Harrington turned to Master Withers. Master Withers cleared her throat and said, “I’ve been monitoring certain holding accounts associated with each department. They’re used for…it doesn’t matter. A large influx of cash matching the amount listed on that bill of sale was deposited into the Internal Affairs account in the Bank of Aurilien two days ago, and a banker’s draft for the same amount written on that account only a few hours later. It would have gone unnoticed if Finance hadn’t been undergoing an internal audit—that’s why the monitoring.”
“I see,” said Elspeth. She felt sick. “Who has access to that account?”
“For sums that large, only Mister Faraday can authorize access,” Master Withers said. She looked like she felt as sick as Elspeth did. Elspeth couldn’t bring herself to look at Faraday. This was all a nightmare she would wake from soon.
“Mister Faraday himself said we should examine our departments for unusual activity that could be a sign of the traitors preparing to take the Crown,” Lord Harrington said. “I’m sure he didn’t believe he would be the one caught.”
She heard herself say, “This could be a coincidence.”
“That’s why we wanted access to your office,” Lord Harrington said. “This bill of sale might itself be a forgery, The Junipers not actually sold, and the funds transfer initiated to throw suspicion on Mister Faraday. But everything you sign, your Majesty, is in duplicate. The relevant department, Commerce in this case, holds a copy…and you hold the original. If this bill of sale is legitimate, it’s recent enough that it will be in your desk, filed by you.”
Elspeth stared at him. Her chest ached with a numb pain that had begun to spread to the rest of her. “Commerce?” she asked. She wished she dared pinch herself awake. Faraday looked like he’d turned to stone.
Lady d’Arden nodded. Elspeth opened the relevant drawer. Her fingers riffled through the pages, looking for the right one. As she neared the back of the drawer w
ithout finding it, the fist around her heart relaxed. Of course it wasn’t true. Faraday wanted to root out the traitor, not commit treason himself.
Then two words caught her eye—The Junipers. Elspeth slowly withdrew the paper and spread it on her desk. The signature really was very close. Anyone might have mistaken it for hers—anyone but she.
She held out her hand for Lady d’Arden’s copy and laid it beside the original. “I see,” she said.
“Your Majesty,” Lord Harrington said, “I must ask that Mister Faraday be taken into custody while we investigate. It might all still turn out to be false.”
Elspeth nodded. The nightmare wouldn’t end. She looked at Faraday, who refused to meet her eyes. “Mister Faraday,” she said, her chest aching once more, “do you have anything to say in your defense?”
Faraday still wouldn’t look at her. “I deny these charges,” he said.
“Can you prove your innocence?” A spark of hope eased the pain in her chest.
He shook his head minutely. “I have only my word, and my exemplary record, as my defense.”
The spark died. “Call the guards,” Elspeth said. “Have them…take him into custody.”
She didn’t watch as the guards took him away.
“I’ll keep these,” she said when Lady d’Arden reached for her copy. “They’re evidence. Master Withers, I’ll need the records of the bank transactions as well. And then—” Her head of Internal Affairs had been arrested. He was the one she always turned to in situations like this. Who else was there? Just she. “Then I’ll send to the Justiciary and appoint Mister Faraday a law-speaker. Unless he wants to act on his own behalf. Except I don’t think he can gather evidence while he’s in custody.” She realized she was babbling and shut up.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation, your Majesty,” Master Withers said. She didn’t sound certain. Elspeth nodded in acknowledgement.
Stranger to the Crown Page 24
