The Wrong Scapegoat: A Mythic Fantasy Novel (Ravens of the Morrigan)

by Cornelius Flynn

  “Stand aside in the name of the Regent.” He orders loudly and makes quick hand signals that have the knights surrounded and separated from those in his charge.

  “Currently, my men have orders to move you back from the gate. Should you offer resistance, I shall have the crossbow men fill you all so full of quarrels that we will be able to tie ropes to them and drag your corpses away. Am I making myself clear?”

  The leader of the knights looks around and sees that a rank of pikemen is slowly forcing his men backwards whilst two rows of crossbowmen stand at the ready. He signals his men to one side and attempts to gain the captain’s attention.

  “Captain, I must speak with you.”

  “And you thought to do it by turning up here again in force, Marshal Percey?” He waves his arm to call off the crossbows. “Didn’t occur to you after last time that groups of armed men arriving at our gate are treated this way?”

  The captain indicates that he should be allowed through the ranks to speak with him. His hands rests comfortably upon the hilt of his sword as he watches his approach.

  The marshal shakes out his cloak and rearranges it over his shoulders, straightening his belt and scabbard before speaking.

  “It seems that your assassin may have returned to complete the job. It’s possible he’s still trapped within. I came to offer my assistance with the search.”

  “Your kind only have a few days left to get out of town. I suggest you speed it up.”

  “What you mean my kind? I am an honest businessman. I never did anybody any harm.”

  He indicates his wares in the wheeled hut behind him. Fine silks and linens hang from poles within it and various finished items are on display to show the quality of his work.

  “It was your kind that carried out the attack on the prince. Your kind who follow the foul denizens of the old ways.” The temple guard points to the west gate. “You’ve only a matter of days to be clear of this town and I suggest you start packing up immediately.”

  “I didn’t attack anybody and I don’t follow anything. I’m an honest tradesman and I’ve been here for twenty years. My father was here before me with this same wagon. I do good high quality work. I don’t see why I need to pack up.”

  One of the Temple Knights accompanying the guard on his rounds steps forward and pushes the milliner hard in the chest. He falls backwards, bumps into his wagon and lands on the floor. The guard and the two knights move to stand over him threateningly.

  “You know we have to get straight back to the tavern.” Lightning says as she and Filippo arrive in time to see this altercation. She touches his arm. “We can’t afford to get into any trouble at the moment.”

  Filippo moves his hand out of her reach and smiles grimly. “No, we can’t, but sometimes trouble finds us anyway.”

  Some minutes later, when Prince David, the ladies and the majority of the castle force are back inside, the marshal enters the Great Hall, whilst a discussion ensues in the offices of the prince.

  The logs on the fire crackle and spit throwing heat into the smaller room.

  “Has my brother been injured?” He asks.

  “No, your grace, he seems unharmed. The healers aren’t here yet, but his situation is unchanged and there are no marks or wounds.” The lieutenant replies.

  “How did this happen, lieutenant?” The captain’s voice is angry. The fact that the knights arrived before their own troops rankles him. “I told you to keep guards posted.”

  “With respect, sir, I did. They fulfilled their duties to the best of their ability but foul magic was at work.”

  “Were they killed? Do we have more murders for which to hold this foul plot accountable?” The prince rises from his chair.

  “No, sire. They were overcome by magic and placed into a stupor in another room.” He looks uncomfortable. “The other guards had difficulty waking them, but they seem to be themselves now. I’ve questioned them, at length, but don’t doubt that the captain will wish to do the same.” He sees the captain nodding. “They can’t recall how they came to be away from their posts or what spell they were placed under.”

  “There is no other explanation? They couldn’t have been drugged, or perhaps left their post and don’t want to admit it?” The captain asks.

  “It seems not, sir. By all accounts, as I said, they were completely insensible and locked in a trance in a side room. They didn’t see or hear anything. They’re both upset that they were taken like this.”

  “The marshal claimed that the assailants might still be within the castle, have you carried out a thorough search?” He looks into the lieutenant’s eyes.

  “We found a room sealed from the inside in the kitchen cellars. We had to break the door down to get in, but there was no one there. The only egress from the area was through an iron grate at the back of the room which led to the riverbank.” He holds his hand up as he sees that the captain is about to speak. “Yes, sir. I sent two men down to examine the riverbank to see if anyone’s been there recently other than scavengers. I’ll send them to you when they return.”

  The captain shakes his head. “No, lieutenant, you’ve handled this in my absence. You may continue to do so. I’ll question the men myself but I can’t think of anything I’d do differently.”

  “So we’re saying that the assailants disappeared from a sealed room where the only way out was an iron grate in the floor which even a child couldn’t squeeze through?” David asks.

  The lieutenant nods. “This has a familiar feel to it, doesn’t it, sire?”

  “You mean, that they vanished like William did from our prison cell, I presume?” He looks thoughtful. “I can see the similarities, but if these people are able to slip out of locked rooms and walk through walls why haven’t they simply killed my brother already?”

  “That’s puzzling me too, sire.” The lieutenant replies. “If an assassin were able to appear and disappear at will then I’m certain he could command any price, and kill anyone at all.”

  “If the assassins could appear anywhere at all, then they wouldn’t need to put the guards out of commission, would they?” Captain Yovvan notes. “Surely they could have appeared in your brother’s bedchamber, bypassing all the guards.”

  Prince David mulls this over for a few moments.

  “That’s a very good point. They must have come in by traditional means and perhaps made their escape by non-traditional ones. I have no idea what might be at work and I can’t think of anyone who might know more.” He pauses for a moment. “Except, perhaps, for Charles Bracken. Do we know where he is?”

  “He’s somewhere in the town, sire. I’m sure word will reach him shortly.”

  The Lady Elena bustles into the office followed by Lindy, the kitchen girl, carrying a tray of wine and hard biscuits. Elena waves at a side table and the girl curtsies, setting out the tray and beginning to pour.

  “Has anyone sent for the healers?” She asks.

  “No one has sent for anyone, my sweet. We have to keep the castle secure until we find out what’s happened.” David replies.

  “Where’s the marshal? Should he not be here?”

  “For all we know, he had some hand in this whole plot.”

  “That is ridiculous!” She spins round to address the captain. “What have you done with the poor man? Get him in here this instant.”

  The captain ignores her and looks to the Prince Regent. “Your grace?”

  “Just so, captain.” He turns to his wife and takes her gently by the arm and leads her to a seat at the end of the table. “Sit down, my love. We don’t know the depth of this plot nor do we know who might be involved and until we do so the only people I trust are those loyal to my brother.”

  “But the marshal is from the temple, as are the healers. I’m sure they only wish to aid him.”

  “And does Bronwyn concur?” He asks her.

  “She is quite distraught, as you’re well aware, and insisted on visiting him. As I’m sure you are also aware,
the good captain here had two of his men accompany her.”

  “Better safe than sorry.” John Yovvan mutters.

  A tight smile crosses Prince David’s face as he nods slowly in agreement.

  “I think perhaps it’s time we spoke with the marshal and found out how he came to know about it before we did.”

  The marshal is escorted into the prince’s office by two burly guardsmen who make no secret of the fact that they don’t like him.

  He shakes off their hands from his arms and straightens his cloak.

  “What is the meaning of this? Why am I being treated like a common criminal?”

  The captain approaches him and stands mere inches from his face as he hisses.

  “You will show respect for the ruler of this land or I will teach you some in our dungeons. You make no demands here.”

  He strikes him hard in the midriff driving the wind from him and causing him to double forward and drop one knee to the ground.

  “That’s better.”

  Prince David sits trying to maintain an air of calm in his chair knowing that he mustn’t interfere. The two brothers learnt from their father that everyone must know their place.

  His father had once told them that governing a State was like being the ruler of a pack of wolves. Respect was earned from, and enforced by, those of lower standing than oneself. The pack leader didn’t involve himself in petty squabbles but was there to enforce his will if necessary.

  His wife gasps and is ready to stand up and say something when he rests his hand on her arm and whispers to her to remain where she is.

  The captain nods to the guards, and they assist the commander to his feet. “Now, I believe you had a request to make of our prince?”

  Marshal Percey shoots a look at the captain under a scowl to which the he simply smiles.

  “I requested that we be allowed access to assist in the search for those who infiltrated the castle. We were denied at the gate, and now I am assaulted in your presence, your grace.”

  “I saw no assault, Marshal. I did however see the good captain here teaching you manners. We’re not in the temple now, are we?”

  The Marshal looks like he is about to protest and thinks better of it. He stands to his full height and inhales deeply before letting a slow breath out. “You are of course correct. My apologies. I merely wished to offer my assistance, sire.”

  “Unfortunately, you are too late. It appears those who entered accomplished whatever task they came for and have left as mysteriously as they arrived. My question for you, marshal, is how you knew about this before I did.”

  He sits staring at the marshal.

  “Well, that’s difficult to explain to the uninitiated, your grace. Suffice to say that we have certain powers available to us owing to our allegiance to the True God.”

  “I am afraid that is insufficient, marshal. We shall require a much better explanation.”

  The Marshal glances around before continuing.

  “Very well. I had our healers utilise their magical sciences to place a web around the bed of the good prince that would recognise an intruder and alert us to their presence.”

  “You can do such things?” David asks.

  “Yes, your grace, but it’s not common knowledge and it’s used rarely. Unfortunately, it would have proven to be of little use here since the time it took for the guards to arrive at the room would have allowed an assassin to finish the job.”

  “Then it seems that they weren’t assassins, does it not?” Prince David addresses all present. “For, if they were, my brother would now lie dead. Thus the question arises: what is it that they seek?”

  “Is this magical web still in place, Lord Percey?” The Lady Elena asks.

  “No, my lady. Once it is triggered and has sent its signal to him that placed it, it becomes spent and must be relaid. It’s merely a warning system.”

  “Can more be done?” She asks. “Could something be set which would do more than just send a signal?”

  The Marshal makes eye contact with her for a few moments before he replies, reading something in her expression. “Yes, my lady, more can be done although we do not normally share such information with those outside the temple.”

  “Special times call for special measures, my good marshal.” She says. “Could one of these magical webs be turned into a sticky trap?”

  “They could, ma’am. They could indeed. It takes time and effort to set such in motion, but it has been done before.”

  “Well then, I think that’s something we need to discuss.” Prince David taps his fingers on the arm of his chair.

  One of the knights is leaning forward and placing his foot on the trader’s stomach, sneering at him, when he’s suddenly dragged backwards and spun around to face a muscular man slightly shorter than himself.

  “I don’t think it looks very good, knights and guards assaulting common honest citizens in the street, do you?” Filippo asks him.

  The knight reacts by trying to punch him in the face. He moves neatly to his left allowing the man’s fist to connect only with fresh air.

  “That’s two, ragazzo. You really don’t want to get to three.”

  The knight shouts in frustration and throws a flurry of punches towards the stranger who ducks, bobs and weaves, then strikes quickly upwards with his open palm under the man’s chin. The force of the blow lifts him off his feet and deposits him on the cold wet ground, where he doesn’t move.

  “I did say you didn’t want to get to three. Why does nobody ever listen?”

  The remaining two run at him. Lightning moves with blistering speed and trips the knight, watching him sprawl face first onto the cobbles whilst the Filippo steps forward and strikes the guard hard in the face with his elbow. A nasty crunching noise ensues and he crumples to the floor.

  Lightning stands with her foot on the knight’s back pinning him to the floor. “What do you want me to do with this one?”

  “I think I’ll leave him to tell the tale. Maybe they’ll get the idea that they can’t push people around like this.” He walks over and helps the milliner back to his feet.

  Just as he’s being thanked a shout goes up and some of the castle guards accompanied by knights begin running towards them.

  “Well, that complicates things a little doesn’t it?” Lightning grins

  “I suppose we have to fight them too?” He counts them.

  “I’ve nothing against bashing the heads in on these temple types, but I expect most of the castle guards are actually loyal to the prince. I think we should get out of here.”

  They run towards the approaching men, dodging past the guards at the front and pushing them aside to enable them to strike hard at the knights following them. Both drop to the floor unconscious as the guards recover and turn to face them.

  “To arms! To arms!” One of the guards shouts.

  “I suggest we run.” Filippo chuckles. “You just go, I’ll get myself out of here.”

  “I am not leaving you on your own. Whatever would Gwen say?”

  “I’m sure Gwen will have plenty to say about us starting brawls in the street.” He laughs and jogs down a nearby alley with Lightning by his side. “Any suggestions as to a route?”

  “I’ve spent as little time in this town as you have. After we make a few more turns I’ll be just as lost. I think the quarter with the Tavern entrance is generally off to the right somewhere, but I don’t recognise any of this.”

  The sound of pounding feet can be heard behind them with answering shouts coming from up ahead and to the right.

  “Well, if we have to go right we have to go right.” He turns and increases his speed down the next alley, bursting out of it into bright sunlight as they cross the street and see more guards approaching from both sides. “This could get messy.”

  “We just have to get you away from them, preferably without hurting them.” She jogs by his side thinking.

  A fork appears in an alleyway ahead. “Left or right?
” He shouts, breathing heavily.

  Lightning looks and sees a familiar figure beckoning them.

  “Left!” She shouts, as they break that way.

  As the guards attempt to follow them into the alleyway on the left, a handcart is suddenly pushed in their way. The guards crash into it, falling over each other as they all tumble to the hard floor.

  “Oh, I am dreadfully sorry. I didn’t see you there. You were running terribly fast though. Were you even looking where you were going?” The cart’s owner asks.

  “Get out of the way! We’re chasing criminals.” They scramble to their feet and try to push the old man’s cart aside, which is surprisingly heavy.

  “Do excuse me. I didn’t know. Just give me a moment to move this.”

  They attempt to run round the end of the cart just as the old man pushes it forward once more. They change direction to run behind him and somehow he pulls it backwards just in time to block them.

  “What are you doing?” One of the guard corporals shouts at him.

  “Trying to get out of your way, like you asked me.” He replies, his eyes wide. “You did ask me to do that, didn’t you?”

  “Just stand still. We’ll get around you. Stop moving the cart!” The corporal yells back.

  “Very well.” The old man lets go of the handles of the cart, yet still stands between them as the guards rush to the opening they expect at the other end of the cart. Somehow now it fills the whole width of the alleyway.

  “What? That’s not possible.” The Corporal turns round to remonstrate with the old man to find that he is no longer there.

  He and his men clamber over the handcart and run down the alleyway ahead but can see no sign of their quarry.

  The two Ravens arrive back at the tavern, stumbling through the open door past Gwen, laughing with each other about the chase.

  “There seems to be a disturbance in the town.” Gwen says. “I expect that has something to do with you two?”

  They both smile at her as she closes the door and walk over to one of the bench tables to take their seats.