The Poisoner's Enemy

by Jeff Wheeler

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blind

  Duke Warrewik had escaped before Eredur and his army arrived in Kingfountain. He’d boarded a ship with his wife, son-in-law, and his two daughters, and no one knew where they’d landed. There was plenty of speculation. But he could have vanished at sea, for all they knew, and been swallowed by the Deep Fathoms.

  After returning from a short visit with her mother, Ankarette had spent all her time trying to find news of Warrewik. She was especially worried about her friend and the upcoming birth—a helpless feeling because there was naught she could do.

  The tavern on the bridge was boisterous and full of a discontented rabble—many angry men and some who were well past drunk. The roar of the falls was almost blotted out by the shouts and guffaws of customers and the trill of pipes. Ankarette wore a commoner’s gown and cloak, her hair braided into coils behind her head. The tavern common room had an evil energy to it, and the looks that came her way spoke of hard men in hard circumstances. Her quarry sat alone at a table in the corner, watching as she wove her way through the crowd. He was a cynical man, one of the Espion from the sanctuary of Our Lady, and they had agreed to meet in a neutral location.

  A drunken patron careened into her suddenly, nearly knocking her off balance. The man blurted an apology, but his hands were quick to touch. She grabbed his smallest finger, yanking it as she shoved him to the ground. He moaned in pain, shaking his head and wondering loudly how he had fallen. His breath reeked of ale.

  She stepped around his fallen body, anxious to get the information she had come here for and leave. A young man with a tray of mugs jostled past her and nearly tripped over the man sprawled on the floor, catching himself just in time. Ankarette dodged him and then joined the man who awaited her at the table. His hair was falling out and a gray-and-black beard bristled his jowls.

  “Ankarette,” he said warily, giving her a nod.

  “Silas,” she replied courteously. He looked uncomfortable in the tavern. She had been using her Fountain magic almost every day since Eredur regained power and she felt her stores dwindling. But she needed it now more than ever.

  “Are you alone?” she asked him, reaching out with her magic as she glanced around at the patrons. Other Espion could easily be hiding in the crowd. Many were still loyal to Duke Warrewik.

  “Of course,” he answered gruffly. “That’s what we agreed.”

  He was lying. She sensed it from her magic. He was a gifted liar and controlled his expression perfectly.

  “Thank you,” she answered. “I need to find Warrewik,” she said seriously, dropping her voice. “He fled the city before I could return from my assignment.”

  His brow lowered suspiciously. “I only agreed to meet you if you made it worth my while.”

  “I don’t have any money. I’m just as dependent on the duke as you are.”

  The man sniffed and rubbed his whiskers. “I have my own means, my dear. I assumed you did as well. Jewels at the least. You’re Lady Isybelle’s friend, surely you have something you can barter for information.”

  “How do I know your information is worth my jewels?” she countered. “I need to use them in the palace among the nobles.”

  “I could hold them for you,” he said with a twisted smile. “Keep them safe.”

  Every instinct warned her that this man could not be trusted with a single coin.

  “Do you know where Warrewik is?”

  “Of course,” he answered smoothly. “But Sir Thomas has been rounding up every Espion loyal to the duke. You and he were always on friendly terms.” He gave her a knowing look that made her emotions flare. He was goading her, trying to get her to react.

  “I’ve worked with many,” she answered dispassionately. “Where is he? Callait?”

  The subtle wrinkle in his brow told her she had struck on something.

  “Maybe,” he answered with unconcern. “I’m not going to tell you without payment. If you didn’t bring something interesting, then this conversation is over.”

  “I think you’re right,” she said, pushing back her chair. “It is over.”

  He chuckled darkly. “You didn’t think I’d make it that easy for you? Let’s continue our chat. Upstairs.” His look revolted her. “You’ll need to prove you’re still loyal to the duke.”

  “How many Espion are in here?” she asked tightly, rising to her feet, preparing to defend herself.

  “Six other than me,” he answered smoothly. “And we’ve all been waiting to meet you.”

  “That’s strange,” Ankarette replied coolly. “I had counted seven.”

  She gripped the table’s edge and shoved it into Silas’s gut. Then, planting her palms on the table, she spun around and kicked him on the side of the head, knocking him off his chair and landing on the other side. The tavern erupted into violence as the door burst open and soldiers wearing the Sun and Rose stormed inside, throwing the men to the floor one by one.

  A ripple from the Fountain announced the presence of another Fountain-blessed in the room. Ankarette had not been expecting that and she whirled about, fishing in the slit of her skirt for her dagger. Silas was scrabbling to get to his feet, blood drenching his face from a cut at his brow. She kicked him hard to keep him down and brandished the dagger. There was Sir Thomas in the lead, plunging through the crowd to reach her at the far table.

  Commands to cease fighting were shouted. Some of the patrons tried to wrestle the soldiers and were beaten down. They were completely outnumbered, but she still sensed that presence in the room, and something told her the person was trying to leave. She gazed around, trying to find the source.

  “You said it would be a brawl,” Sir Thomas called out, punching someone in the face before he reached her. His eyes danced with amusement. He looked down at Silas, who glared at him with undisguised hatred. “Ah, Silas! Thanks for leaving the sanctuary at last. I have some questions for you.”

  “You craven traitor!” Silas lashed out. His nose was bleeding and his eye was getting puffy.

  “Arrest them all; there are seven more in here,” she whispered to him as she charged past. She used her instincts, tried to find the elusive presence with her magic. Angry shouts and curses blistered the air, but Ankarette ignored the fuss, dodging through the melee to try to find the person she sensed. Where was he? If it was Lord Hux, he would not allow himself to be captured. He probably kept a suicide ring to prevent himself from revealing any of Lewis’s secrets.

  But where was he? She searched the crowd again, trying to follow her senses. The door was still open, and fresh guards were coming in to haul those who’d already been bound out of the tavern. She heard the clacking of wagon wheels and realized that the prison cages were coming to haul off the inmates from the tavern. Still, she could not find him.

  Why couldn’t she see him?

  She sensed the person leaving through the door, but she didn’t see anyone standing there. The door stood open, and she saw the crowds outside, the spectators who had assembled to watch the goings on. She could feel the presence of the Fountain-blessed person outside, yet she hadn’t seen anyone leave. Hurriedly, she crossed the room and gripped the doorjamb and stared out into the crowd, trying to locate the culprit. The crowd was so thick, no one stood out from the rabble. The feeling suddenly faded as the person stopped using the magic. She thought she caught a shock of light brown hair pressing against the crowd. It was just a glance.

  She had a sinking sensation. The person had been invisible. She reached into her girdle where she had hidden one of the jewelry pieces she had intended to use to barter with Silas. She’d never pulled it out because of her lack of trust.

  It was gone, stolen. Someone grabbed her from behind and yanked her back into the tavern. It was one of Sir Thomas’ men.

  Ankarette was in the solar with the king and queen, Sir Thomas, and Lord Kiskaddon. Eredur had tried to convince the duke to take charge of the Espion, but he had refused. His family was still very you
ng and he had no desire to take up the post that Warrewik had held. No one wanted the job—not even Sir Thomas, who was normally ambitious for opportunities. His concern was that he’d never be trusted again within the Espion after his betrayal of Warrewik.

  Queen Elyse watched as her husband paced, her eyes worried. She had lived for months in the sanctuary of Our Lady and seemed pleased to be reunited with Eredur. But her nervous rubbing of her stomach and the slightly queasy look on her face had caught Ankarette’s eye, so she’d missed the question the king had asked her.

  “Ankarette?”

  His words brought her out of her reverie. “I’m sorry, my lord. What was that?”

  “I asked if you thought our ruse was successful. Your idea to have everyone in the tavern arrested, yourself included, would lend credence to the thought that you were still loyal to my uncle.”

  She glanced at Sir Thomas, who seemed to have gained confidence now that he could openly be Eredur’s man.

  “I hope so,” she said. “I thought I saw a man slip away in the crowd.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” Sir Thomas said. “Every man in that tavern was dragged out in irons. And every woman too.” He winked at her playfully. “You should have seen her, my lord. She looked miserable and forlorn as she was carted off with the rest. She is a great performer. No, I think word will get out that she was captured today. I’m glad we brought in Silas. I’ve always detested that man.”

  With good reason, Ankarette wanted to add.

  The king rubbed his hands together and then came to a stop over by his wife. “So we must do our best to speculate where Warrewik went. The most probable destinations are Callait, where he commanded the garrison, or Occitania. He and Lewis have ever been allies.”

  “Both places are where he would expect us to think he’d go,” Sir Thomas added. “He’s a cunning man. I had hoped he would stay and fight. With the Callait garrison, he would have been a match for you and Lord Kiskaddon.”

  “Hardly an even one,” Kiskaddon said with a chuckle. “I’m not surprised he fled.”

  “Nor am I,” agreed the king. “If you’re not confident you will win a battle, you will lose it. He heard the sounds of the tree cracking and thought it best to flee ere it fell.” He rubbed his wife’s shoulder and she gripped his hand with hers. She looked worried, pensive.

  “My lands are closest to Occitania,” Lord Kiskaddon said. “If I hear anything, I will tell you at once. I will leave half of my army, as we agreed, to help defend Kingfountain in case he returns with a fleet provided by King Lewis. The other half will return with me to Tatton Hall and begin securing our western borders.”

  “What about Brugia?” Sir Thomas asked, wagging his finger. “Do you think he went to Callait and then Marq? The Temaire family is quite duplicitous.”

  Eredur shook his head and waved off the comment. “Philip Temaire married my sister. I think she would have told us if Warrewik suddenly appeared.”

  “In talking with Silas,” Ankarette added, “I mentioned Callait. He betrayed a look when I said it.”

  Eredur clapped his hands. “That is good intelligence. Have you gotten nothing more from him yet, Tom?”

  He sighed. “He has information we need, but he won’t speak unless he knows he’s not going into the falls. A few days in the dungeon may soften him.”

  “Indeed,” said the king. Then he sighed and looked at Ankarette. “When is Isybelle’s babe due, lass? How soon is it? He may stay in hiding until after the child is born. If it’s a son . . .” His words trailed off and he shook his head.

  Elyse’s eyes tightened with worry and undisguised concern. She rubbed her stomach again, which convinced Ankarette she was right. The queen was with child again. It must have happened quickly after Eredur had retaken the palace. No doubt their reunion had been passionate after such a long forced separation.

  There was a loud knock at the door. Sir Thomas frowned and strode over to it. They had asked not to be disturbed. After opening the door, Sir Thomas spoke briefly to the man, someone Ankarette didn’t recognize. When he turned around, he was holding a letter. He broke the seal and began reading it. Then his face lit up with surprise and happiness.

  “What is it, man!” Eredur said impatiently, eager to hear the news.

  Sir Thomas was scanning the words quickly. Was he decoding a message in cipher? It didn’t seem so. “By the Fountain,” he gasped, shaking his head in wonderment.

  “Tell me!” the king insisted.

  “Please share the news, Sir Thomas,” the queen said, much calmer but no less eager.

  Sir Thomas brought the paper down, his surprise still evident. “You will never guess.”

  “Of course not, you fool. Speak up, man!”

  “This letter is from the captain of the garrison at Callait,” Sir Thomas said. He gave Ankarette a knowing look. “He’s been the duke’s sworn man for years. Vauclair. He’s a soldier, fought for the duke long ago—well, all of that doesn’t matter. What he says,” he added, lifting the paper and stabbing it with his finger, “is that he rebuffed the Duke of Warrewik and refused him entry into Callait. He says he is loyal to Your Majesty and has done this as a token of his trust and fidelity. The ships were at anchor for several days outside the harbor. Lady Isybelle went into labor and the duke pleaded with Vauclair to bring her ashore. He refused. He utterly refused.” He coughed into his fist. “That is cold-hearted.”

  Ankarette felt a stab of worry and panic. “When was this letter sent?”

  “Last night,” Sir Thomas answered. “She may still be in labor.”

  Ankarette’s concern for her friend redoubled. She looked imploringly at the king.

  “To prove his loyalty, he bids you to send someone of your choosing to inspect the garrison of Callait. You’ll find all in order and the soldiers willing to obey you. He beseeches you for a royal command declaring that he will still be the castellan if he has earned your favor—just like the writ you so graciously imparted to Lord Horwath in Dundrennan.”

  “So there was no news about Isybelle’s babe?” Elyse asked.

  “None,” he answered, shaking his head. “But the babe is likely born by now. On a ship. Poor lass. The letter ends saying that the duke’s ships sailed westward, allowing the captain to send us this message. There is no cipher on it.”

  “Indeed. I don’t know Vauclair well. Do you think this is a ruse, Tom?”

  Sir Thomas shrugged. “I’ve never cared for him. It’s hard to say, but I’ve no doubt he’s a greedy man who wants to keep eating from the plum tree. It makes sense that Warrewik would away to Pree next.”

  Eredur looked at Ankarette. “You want to go there. Don’t you?”

  “To Pree?” she asked, still agitated by the news and the thought of Isybelle suffering.

  He shook his head. “No, to Callait, where the trail begins. Ankarette Tryneowy, I have an assignment for you. You are my poisoner, after all. I trust your instincts and your judgment. I don’t have a fully functioning Espion, so I’m blind to what is happening inside my own borders, let alone outside. It will take time to find replacements and establish new people. I don’t have that luxury right now.” He looked at her sternly. “Find Isybelle and you will also find my brother. They may have had a son, and if they did, he will be a rival to the throne. I need to know if that has happened.”

  She dreaded what she thought he would say next. And she knew, deep in her heart, that she could never harm an infant.

  “Ankarette, your task is to find my brother. You tell him that if he comes back to me, all is forgiven. He will not lose his duchy or his wife. In fact, I will even take that into consideration for the writ of attainder when we call the Assizes after Warrewik is captured. Dunsdworth may still become one of the wealthiest men in Ceredigion. Convince him to come back to our side, Ankarette. For the good of his wife. For the good of their child. You are my emissary in this and I will honor whatever agreement you make. I know you would never do anythin
g that wouldn’t be in the best interest of the realm. But if he will not come, then I won’t let Warrewik use him as a puppet against me. Kidnap him if you can. Poison him if you must. We will pluck away Warrewik’s supporters one by one. Start with Dunsdworth. If he’s not in Callait, then find him in Pree. Do whatever you must. This is my first royal command to you as my poisoner. You must see it done.”

  Her heart fluttered inside her breast. She was only sixteen years old, and yet the king trusted her so much. She glanced at Sir Thomas, who smiled at her encouragingly. His eyes said, I know you can do this, lass.

  And because they believed in her, and she in herself, she knew she’d succeed no matter what.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Vauclair

  It was a Genevese merchant ship and the cargo was shallots. The smell of the purple root vegetables permeated the ship, including Ankarette’s room. In her time at the poisoner school, she had read stories and accounts of political mayhem. In the cold, stale writing of the past, the causes and solutions to problems seemed obvious. But now she was living in her own chaotic times. Yes, Eredur had regained control of Ceredigion . . . and yet something told her Warrewik was not defeated just yet.

  A loud thump sounded on her door and she paused in the act of adding poison to her dagger. Before they reached Callait, she wished to be fully equipped with defenses. She hesitated, then quickly set down the implements of death and hurried to the door. She opened it a crack.

  The first mate stood there, a bearded Genevese man with long, scalloped locks of grayish-brown hair. “The cap’n wished me to tell you we’ll be drawing into Callait soon. Be ye ready.”

  Judging by the dimness of the light, they were coming in with the tide and it would be dark soon.

  “Thank you,” she said. The man gave her a gruff look and a wary nod, and she shut the door and returned to the small desk. Before picking up the dagger again, she inspected the area to make sure none of the poison had escaped. Some poisoners, those who were not careful, injured themselves with their own wares.