Lies in the Dark

by Robert J. Crane

  I felt like I was inches away from her now, and I hoped whatever was keeping her from annihilating me could hold out just a little longer. “… But,” I said, “I know someone who you should listen to. Someone who can’t lie—like you.” Boy, did I bite my tongue on that one, because holy smokes had the Seelie showed me a thousand more ways to lie without actually speaking a full blown lie. “Someone who you once trusted.”

  I turned, and Lockwood stood there, his three guards vanquished, along with Orianna’s. He seemed to have picked up a couple more wounds, with the silvery sheen of the blood dripping down his arms, and yet …

  He was strong. Commanding. And he stood before his former queen with his head held high.

  “This man was a paladin of your kingdom,” I said. “And regardless of how angry you are with him … don’t you at least owe him a chance to explain what happened?” I looked the Queen of Summer in the eyes. “Don’t you owe him a chance to speak the truth to you, knowing that—unlike me—he can’t lie?”

  Queen Ignes stared at me, and her shoulders relaxed, her head coming back. She pointed her chin down at me, and seemed to shrink, just slightly. “Even in the forest of your lies, there may stand a truth or two.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said.

  A flash of darkness crossed her irises, and she looked at Lockwood. “You served me well for many years, Lockwood. What say you? Does this Iron Bearer speak true? Do you have something to tell me?”

  Lockwood just looked at her, his eyes glazed. After a moment, though, he stirred, and swallowed.

  And he opened his mouth to speak.

  Chapter 39

  Lockwood

  I have served you, my queen, for all my life.

  In the days of my youth, I waxed rhapsodic about your grace. When I was elevated to paladin, I felt the tremors of true satisfaction. It was an impossible goal, one you know is achieved by so very, very few.

  I fought so many, many wars in your name. Golgara Frontiers. Skypeace Hamlet. The Firesand Valley Campaign.

  I invaded foreign lands, subdued angry revolts, brought sword and shield and your light to many corners of Faerie. I faced Winter in my turn, over and over, proving out my courage and bringing your rule to the borders.

  And then … I went to Veritas.

  A village on the edge of the frontier, bordering Winter, it was the last true step in neutral territory before reaching the holds of the Unseelie. I went with my squad, all lesser knights, all dispatched as ordered by you, by your throne—or so I thought.

  We were sent, in reality, by Master Calvor.

  I did not learn this immediately, of course. No, it was only as I sat in the inn where we sheltered on the second night that I learned the truth of the matter. My orders had come on parchment, in a simple hand, and I did not question them because they bore your seal, my queen. That was good enough for me, in my youth.

  “A peculiar assignment, yes, Lockwood?” asked Vexo, one of my lieutenants, a fresh-faced young man straight out of academy. Vexo had been something of a disciplinary problem, often drunk and once starting a brawl in an inn in Starvale. Foolishly, perhaps, I wrote it up to his youth and assumed that experience would make him more disciplined.

  We sat by the fire, and it crackled a bright purple, magic burning in the hearth as I stared, my armchair overstuffed and my cup overfilled, the heavy bouquet of the wine filling my nose. I looked up at Vexo, who watched me for a response. “An assignment from the queen is never peculiar. It is our duty to carry out her will, whatever it is, wherever it takes us.”

  “Of course, of course,” Vexo said, nodding along as he took a sip from his cup. “But do you not find it peculiar that this is where she sends us? The arse-end of nowhere?”

  To this I smiled. “I have been to the arse-end of nowhere more times than I can count. And so shall you be sent—should you be fortunate enough to serve as long as I.” With that, I bade him good eve, leaving the rest of my wine and retiring to my quarters.

  The nights in Veritas were long and cold, Winter having exerted its hold in its turn on this section of the borders. She was in full bloom, and I watched the frost form on the window as I awoke after a brief sleep. I could not tell the hour; no stars were visible under the blanket of clouds.

  It was noise that jarred me from my bed.

  A scream.

  I rose and donned my armor, hurrying downstairs and out into the snowy streets of the village. Everyone seemed to be sleeping, or at least their curtains were drawn save for perhaps a crack here and there, a face staring out into the snowy oblivion, flakes falling around.

  The scream came a second time as I trod through the ankle-high snow on the cobbled streets. I gripped my weapon tight as I rounded a corner into an alley to find—

  Vexo. He had a local maiden by the throat, choking her with one hand while holding her tightly with the other.

  Her own hands were empty as she struggled against him.

  “Come on,” he said, and even from twenty paces I could smell the stink of wine on his breath. “Don’t feign modesty—you’re just a local girl, surely a harlot by trade in that outfit—”

  My opinion of the events had already formed in my mind, of course. Here was a local girl, weaponless, in the grip of a soldier who’d been on a ride for a week, that angry edge in his eyes before he took his alcohol. I’d seen this before, and I never found it acceptable.

  I shouted my outrage and went to draw my sword—

  But she beat me to it. She pulled his own blade as Vexo drunkenly squeezed at her—

  And she buried it up to the hilt in his guts in utter panic.

  I could see it in her eyes. The girl was terrified, and she had every right to be. I don’t know that he meant to kill her, but he certainly meant her no good.

  Vexo gasped his last, and I stood there as she turned the sword on me.

  “Hold,” I said, putting up one hand while I sheathed my sword. “I mean you no ill. You did what was called for.”

  She let out a gasping breath, back against the alley wall, not relinquishing the sword. “He … was one of yours?”

  I looked at Vexo. He was still, the snow falling on his armor. “He was. But you’ll find no complaint from me for your conduct here. It was righteous, and he was much in the wrong. I’ll not defend him, nor prosecute you.”

  She was watching me carefully, her eyes a darker blue, like still waters at night. “You’ll let me go, then? And you commanded this man?”

  “I was his commander,” I said, looking upon his body, “but I hardly commanded him, especially in this act.” I kept my distance. “You should go. Get out of town, if possible. I can speak only for myself in this. I will tell the truth of what happened here, and I believe no danger will come your way, but this is neutral territory. No one here will come to your aid against the might of Summer.”

  She said something else, though I did not hear it. It might have been a curse. I doubt it was thanks, for her life as it was died in that moment, in that alley. She turned and ran, taking Vexo’s sword with her—as a guard in case I decided to change my mind, I suppose.

  But I did not. I went back to my room in the inn and rousted my fellow soldiers. I led them outside, and spoke the truth of what had happened to their ears. That done, I composed a letter to command, and sent it in the care of one of my soldiers back to Starvale.

  That task complete, I set out to do what my orders commanded, now short two men.

  Within a week, you might guess who arrived in town to speak with me.

  It was, of course, your trusted Calvor.

  He came on a day of bitter cold and biting wind. All of Veritas was tucked quietly away. Not a whisper had been heard of the girl in question since I’d seen her in that alleyway. In truth, I was certain that she’d taken my good advice and fled. A wise fae takes wise counsel, and here she’d done what I’d suggested. Fear might have made her listen, but it was clever indeed of her not to chance my sincerity.

  Calvor st
epped into the inn, his dark eyes sliding over the patrons who were huddled around the fires, trying to keep whatever warmth at hand that they could. His entry let in a cold wind, and I felt the drink in my hand chill as I stared at his silhouette, framed in the entry, for a moment longer than it took me to realize it was him.

  “Master Calvor,” I said, rising. My men rose as well, upon recognition. How could we not, knowing who he was? The shock was seeing him this far out, so distant from your court. Calvor was hardly a man known for leaving the corridors of power and walking in the hinterlands such as these, especially given the wintry disposition of the neutral territory. No true servant of Summer could have found comfort in Veritas that day.

  And I certainly did not.

  “Outside. Now,” Calvor commanded with clipped disinterest, holding the door wide. The patrons of the inn continued to shake as the cold seemed to invade the inn like Winter’s own army, battling back any offensive mounted by the hearth fires. “Only you,” he said, pointing at me as two of my trusted lieutenants made to follow.

  I looked to my men, granting reassurance with a glance. “I shall return shortly.”

  And I followed Calvor out into the snow.

  “Show me where it happened,” he said, his head lacking any armor against the freezing cold. His boots crunched in the snow and mine seemed to pick up a chill the moment I stepped outside. Without word, I led him around the corner to the alley where it had happened and nodded at the place where the body had lain. There was hardly a spot to mark it, now, a small indentation in the snow was all that remained after the passage of a week and a modest snowfall.

  “It was here,” I said, but he was already past me and looking at the spot where the body had come to rest.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said, staring at the place where it had happened.

  I did not protest. “I heard a scream. Came out to find Vexo clashing with a local girl—”

  “A whore,” Calvor said, not looking up.

  “I don’t believe so, no,” I said. “She was dressed modestly enough, and did not seem interested remotely in his overtures, for money or any other compensation.”

  Calvor stood with his back to me like a shadow, then turned, his gaze hard. “You must accept that she was a harlot. One who wronged Lieutenant Vexo, entrancing him with her wiles, and that done, turning upon him to cause his death.”

  I froze, and it had nothing to do with the weather. “That … is not what I believe I witnessed.”

  Calvor let out a small snort. “You ‘believe’?” He took a step toward me, eyes colder than the wind from across the border. “Let me tell you what I believe. I believe that you must be mistaken. That what you think you saw cannot be what you actually saw.” He stepped closer, and a thin smile appeared on his lips. “Lieutenant Vexo, you see, comes from an honorable family. My family. He is—was—my son. My only son.”

  I straightened. “I … did not know that.”

  “No one was to know,” Calvor said, eyes slitting as he stared at me. “Vexo wished it so. He wanted to be … how do you say it? ‘One of the boys.’ Wanted to make his own way in the world, in the army, to advance on his merit, not his name. Foolish, I told him. ’Tis not what you know, but who. He listened not at all, of course, but … I kept the rough hand out of his affairs, and used a silken touch. A whispered word here, a delicate mention there. This was to be a plum assignment—high profile, low risk. Winter hasn’t moved against us in years, after all, especially not on these borders.” His jaw quivered. “He was to be safe here.” His eyes flicked to the spot in the snow where his son had rested.

  “I … am sorry, Master Calvor,” I said. Truly, of course.

  “Let me tell you how this must go, Paladin Lockwood,” Calvor said. “I do not give a feather nor a wing for how you must twist your words, but this story you have told?” He produced my parchment letter from beneath his coat. “It will not be allowed to stand. Do you hear me?” He leaned in closer to my face, hot, stinking breath carrying a hint of alcohol. “You will not smear the memory of my only child, my only son, with this.”

  “I … I cannot lie,” I said.

  How utterly naïve I was.

  “I am not asking you to lie,” Calvor said, grinding each word out from between gritted teeth. “I am asking you to realize the truth. The girl was a Winter agent, a probable whore. She likely crossed the border to gather information about your mission here. When Vexo saw through—”

  I was shaking my head. “There was no deceit in her, only fear—”

  “I will not have my legacy ruined by some jumped-up tramp in a fleaspeck village!” Calvor was shouting now and his voice echoed in the alley. He lowered it. “My son may have died, but you will not dishonor his name and mine, paladin.” He was looking me right in the eye now. “There are alternate explanations for what has happened. You will acquaint yourself with them, and you will write one—subject to my approval to replace …” He lifted my letter in his hand. “This.”

  With a snap of his fingers, my letter burst into flames.

  “Stay out here for as long as it takes you to open your mind to the possibilities I have mentioned,” Calvor said, sweeping past me, his coat tails drifting along behind him. “You will not return to court until you’ve accepted what really happened here …” He did not look back. “… Even if it means staying until your blood freezes and your bones crack with cold.”

  And with that, he left me to dwell on my thoughts. Which I did, for almost a minute.

  That done, I left the village of Veritas and went into exile, knowing that so long as Master Calvor was in your service … I could not be.

  Chapter 40

  I listened to Lockwood finish his tale, wide-eyed, watching the Queen of Summer as she seemed to take it all in. It was hard to tell if she was listening intently; her shoulders were still on fire, and she was still as large as a giant. There was a smell of rose petals on the wind that blew gently from behind her, and the feeling of the sun shining above in glamour was radiating off my exposed arms and making my hair feel just a touch hot.

  “Wow,” I said, “that’s a heck of a story. It has everything, really. Court intrigue. Attempted lies—”

  “There is only one liar here,” came a voice to my right, appearing out of a rank of soldiers that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, “and it is you, Iron Bearer.

  Damn. Roseus. And he’d brought a good portion of the army with him.

  “This from the guy who confessed that he was glad Lockwood went into exile,” I said as Roseus stepped forward, a few soldiers behind him fanning out to surround us in a half moon, their weapons held up. “Or do you not recall talking about how thrilled you were about your promotions in his absence?”

  Roseus’s gaze flitted to the queen for just a second, as though testing her reaction. “My queen, I will see this matter dealt with for you. I apologize it was not done before.” He grimaced. “It would appear that if you want your orders carried you, you have to do it yourself.”

  I blinked. “Yeah, on Earth we just say, ‘You can’t hire good help these days.’”

  I took a step back as Lockwood came forward. He raised his spear. “You have dishonored us both with your ambitions, Roseus,” he said.

  “You did neither of us any favors with your lack thereof,” Roseus said, and with the motion of his weapon, his solders sprang into action, striking.

  Lockwood moved as best he could, clashing with two of them, then directing his offensive onto Roseus himself, who met it with a grunt, just barely blocking Lockwood’s attack.

  Another soldier, this one with red eyes, came at me sideways. He would not miss, I realized a little too late.

  A spear blocked his attack, and Orianna’s wings flittered in front of me. “If you could just … try and finish this out satisfactorily?” she asked, straining to hold back the soldier and failing, forced to give way and come at him again sideways out of a spin. “That would be a lot more helpful than ju
st standing around making us defend you.”

  “Maybe if I had a weapon, I could do something,” I said as Orianna drew off the red-eyed soldier’s attack to my right and Lockwood tied up Roseus and four of his soldiers to my left. There was a mighty clash of weapons, and here I stood, in the middle of it all, feeling about as helpless as when Byron was tormenting me.

  I looked to the one source of hope I could see—

  “Queen of Summer,” I said, looking into her pensive eyes, “please. You have heard the truth now. Surely—”

  “I have heard the words of a paladin disgraced,” the queen said, her eyes hardly moving, but sliding off of me nonetheless. “Now … I think I wish to see the truth of his actions.”

  “Uh … what does that mean?” I asked, as Orianna continued to strain under the withering assault of the red-eyed soldier and Lockwood fell back amid the onslaught from Roseus and his lackeys. “You’re just gonna … sit back and see who wins?”

  The Queen of Summer said nothing, but she raised her head so that all I could see was her chin.

  She wasn’t even watching anymore.

  “Oh, for crying out—” I started to say, but someone slammed into me from behind.

  I landed face-first on the ground. It was hard and rocky and split my lip. The sting didn’t even have a moment to fade before someone laid rough hands on my shoulder, yanking me up and around, my dazed eyes staring into furious ones that looked past me—

  Calvor.

  “Your hope is finished, Paladin Lockwood,” Calvor said, dragging me by the remnants of my dress’s neckline. “You see what you have wrought here, by your intransigence? Nothing. Justice will still be settled, as it should have been that day in Veritas. You could have ended it by staying in that alley, keeping your mouth shut, letting Winter claim a victim.”