Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

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Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 126

by Thomas J. Prestopnik


  “That’s the spirit, Dooley. And when Maynard and Adelaide are gone, life is going to be completely changed for both of us,” he replied. “Mark my words.”

  “It had better be a big change in my case,” Dooley demanded, picking up the ax and setting another chunk of wood on the stone to split. “I want my fair share–and soon. No more excuses!”

  Farnsworth stroked his chin, knowing that Dooley’s impatience, immaturity or inadvertent slip of the tongue could cause him trouble down the road. Worse yet, Dooley might one day show some fortitude and hold their past deeds over him, demanding a greater share of the social and monetary profits to buy his silence. Farnsworth always knew he would probably have to do something about his neighbor, too, and in the back of his mind he had long anticipated such a corrective action.

  Whoever he hired to purge Maynard and Adelaide from his life could easily do away with Dooley as well for a higher price. He imagined Dooley driving the assassin to the swamp to presumably do away with Maynard and Adelaide and then paying him afterward for his services. Dooley would never suspect that he would be the third and final assignment for which the man had been hired. Dooley’s corpse would join Maynard and Adelaide’s at the bottom of the swamp where the trio would slowly fade from the village’s memory. Farnsworth savored the image before offering a quick wave goodbye.

  “I promise that you’ll get your due,” he said as he wandered up the road to his house as the sound of splitting wood reverberated through the crisp air. “No more delays. No more excuses.”

  “And soon!” Dooley refrained, raising his ax in the deepening twilight.

  “Sooner than you think,” Farnsworth whispered to himself as he shuffled along the shadowy road, a thin smirk forming upon his face. “Sooner than you think.”

  CHAPTER 79

  Setting the Table

  The next five days swiftly passed. On the twenty-eighth day of Old Autumn, the table was grandly set for Amanda Stewart’s dinner party. As evening approached, sweet wood smoke lingered above the village like ghostly tendrils. The crisp air delicately frosted window panes and squeezed the last bits of life out of the browning grass and fallen leaves pasted to the frozen ground. The first quarter Bear Moon drifted overhead through a veil of feathery clouds.

  Zachary Farnsworth arrived at the Stewart residence on time, dressed in one of his finest shirts and silver-buttoned vests, topped with a dark gray evening coat. He graciously thanked his hosts for the invitation as they sipped a hearty red wine by a blazing fire in the side parlor. Later, Katherine and her mother knocked at the front door. Upon hearing their voices in the front hallway, Amanda politely excused herself and soon returned to the parlor with the two women as Farnsworth and Oscar continued talking near the fireplace.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Zachary, but I also invited two dear friends of mine to help us celebrate autumn’s last night and add some sparkle to the conversation.”

  “I’m delighted,” he replied as he greeted the new arrivals with a smile, displaying the friendliness and charm he thought would be expected from one in his position. But deep inside, Farnsworth seethed, wondering why Amanda had invited Otto Nibbs’ sister and niece. Surely this dinner was not all about him anymore. He believed that Amanda had an ulterior motive and suspected that he wasn’t looked upon with the respect he had earned in his new position. He decided, however, to behave with civility and grace to see where the evening would lead.

  When Morris announced that dinner was ready, Amanda escorted everyone into the main dining room. They sat at one end of a long rectangular table of dark cherry wood covered with a cream-colored runner with decorative stitching laid lengthwise down the center. Several candles flickered on the table while a roaring fire crackled in the hearth. Katherine sat directly across from Farnsworth and gave him a brief but cordial smile, her heart beating rapidly. She felt as if he could read her thoughts and knew what she planned to do. She was determined to keep calm, knowing that much depended upon her evenness of mind and meticulous planning. She took a deep breath and a sip of wine and relaxed, looking forward to enjoying a delicious dinner. Dessert, however, would be another matter.

  “The table looks lovely,” Sophia remarked, admiring the gold-edged plates and polished silverware as two young women from the kitchen staff served their meal. A platter with a freshly baked loaf of bread, a crock of butter and a wedge of cheese had been placed upon the table along with a pot of steaming tea.

  “I decided to use my best tableware this evening to celebrate our gathering and our renewed freedom,” Amanda replied. “From the look of the place, you wouldn’t suspect that two weeks ago this room was filled with soldiers from the Northern Isles whose crass table manners, I’m guessing, were akin to those of the Enâri!”

  “I can vouch for that,” Katherine said over the light laughter. “Many of the soldiers I served had appalling etiquette and boundless appetites.” She glanced at Farnsworth, her nerves more steady and her confidence growing. She knew that if she had been able to deal successfully with dozens of uncouth soldiers, she could certainly handle anything Zachary Farnsworth might throw at her. “Mr. Farnsworth, you would have been shocked and saddened to have seen the inside of this beautiful home during Caldurian’s occupation.”

  “I’m sure I would have,” he said with feigned disgust before drinking more wine. “Fortunately, I was allowed to continue working in the banking house. Apparently that troublesome wizard had enough sense to know that some day-to-day operations of the village had to continue to keep up any semblance of order. Still, I heard enough stories about the terrible things that went on here.”

  “Horrible things!” Sophia remarked as she removed a cloth napkin from a silver ring and placed it on her lap. “It’s unfathomable the harm that some people in this world will do to others. The disruption of lives and livelihoods that that awful wizard and his soldiers brought down upon our village is unconscionable. What would possess a man to do such things?” Amanda sadly shook her head in response as Farnsworth looked uncomfortably at his plate.

  “Well, we shall never let that happen again!” Oscar assured his guests as they began to eat. “The other council members and I will soon meet to discuss steps to better protect our village in these uncertain times. We hope you’ll attend some of those meetings, Zachary, when time allows.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I look forward to it.”

  “Excellent!” Oscar replied, popping a piece of beef into his mouth and washing it down with some wine. “Now not wishing to pass judgment, I do believe that Maynard Kurtz was unwise not to seek help from King Justin right after Otto’s disappearance when rumors of an attack were floating about the village. Then when Otto reappeared a month later to spread his dire warnings which were punctuated by the fire at the gristmill, Maynard again should have sent word to Morrenwood for military assistance. Caldurian still would have launched an attack, but King Justin’s troops might have arrived in time to free us and crush the wizard and his men.”

  “That makes perfect sense in hindsight,” Katherine said. “But I suppose Maynard was just doing what he thought was right, don’t you agree, Mr. Farnsworth?”

  The guest of honor looked up. “Far be it from me to criticize my predecessor, but if he had acted immediately, things may have turned out differently. Still, credit where credit is due. As Maynard recently left for Morrenwood to speak with the King, perhaps he has finally overcome his past hesitancy. That’s something in his favor.”

  “Better late than never, I suppose,” Amanda said.

  “Let’s not be too harsh,” Oscar jumped in. “Maynard has been a wise and upstanding citizen all his life–and a good friend, too. Only since he was appointed acting mayor did I silently question some of his actions, or lack thereof,” he added with a bewildered frown. “Oh, and on a related topic, Len Harold stopped by to see me two days ago after Prince Gregory and his troops passed through the village. Len had spoken to him.”

  “Really? What d
id he have to say?” Sophia asked curiously.

  “According to him, Maynard never arrived in Morrenwood even though he left here fifteen days ago. I wonder why the delay?”

  “I wondered the very same thing myself,” Farnsworth jumped in, knowing full well that the Maynard who went to Morrenwood was Arileez himself, on his way to the Citadel to supplant King Justin and serve as Vellan’s puppet. “Len Harold had informed me as well. I waited a couple of days before taking action to see if Maynard might send word that he had safely arrived. But as I haven’t yet heard anything, tomorrow I will seek volunteers to trace Maynard’s path and determine if he was delayed or, perish the thought, injured along the way.” Farnsworth sighed, hoping he appeared concerned enough about Maynard’s well-being. “But since everyone is preoccupied with getting their lives back in order, if I have to go myself, I will.”

  “That’s commendable of you,” Amanda said. “Putting the welfare of others ahead of your own is the mark of a good leader.”

  “I agree,” Katherine said. She poured herself some tea and looked askance at her hostess who discreetly nodded in response. She now wanted Amanda to ask a prearranged question to Farnsworth about her uncle to establish a legitimate reason for her and her mother being here tonight.

  “And speaking of the welfare of others, Zachary,” Amanda continued, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Have you given any thought to Otto Nibbs’ trial? As Maynard is not here–and who knows when he’ll be back–is it possible that you might consider taking charge of the proceedings?”

  Farnsworth set his fork down and gently patted his lips with the cloth napkin draped over his lap. “It has crossed my mind,” he said, “seeing that it would be unfair to let Otto languish in the village lockup as Maynard gave me no specific date as to his return. Yet I don’t want to step on Maynard’s toes and usurp this responsibility from him. He was the acting mayor when Otto was incarcerated, so Maynard should be the one to oversee the public proceedings.”

  He noted the disappointment on Sophia and Katherine’s faces, realizing that this dinner party was nothing but a ruse so that Amanda could help her two friends curry his favor on behalf of Otto. Farnsworth didn’t particularly care when Otto’s trial took place or whether he presided over it or not. All he worried about was whether Otto would be declared guilty by at least fifteen of his twenty-one fellow citizens who would be randomly chosen to sit as jurors. If Otto were declared innocent of the charges, he would reclaim his seat as mayor. All of Farnsworth’s work to climb to his current position would have been in vain. He needed Otto to be guilty.

  Farnsworth once guessed that the sooner the trial was held, the better his chances for a guilty verdict since most people would still be upset with Otto for trying to save himself. But nineteen days had gone by since Caldurian had pronounced Otto’s sentence, and some of the simmering resentment and ill feelings against Otto were cooling. A few people were even quietly suspecting that Otto’s various crimes may not have been all they seemed now that they had had time to think. The wizard Caldurian was involved, after all, and that left a very large question mark in the minds of many, though none had any proof to exonerate Otto. Perhaps it was already too late to achieve the verdict he desired. Farnsworth needed Otto to be guilty, realizing it might come down to him rigging the selection system or handing out some well-placed favors to achieve his goal.

  He gazed at his fellow dinner guests, wondering if there were even fifteen people in Kanesbury dishonest enough to turn against Otto Nibbs, an amiable and respected man to nearly everyone before Arileez briefly assumed his identity and marred his character. Perhaps he might have to employ more drastic measures to hold onto power. Farnsworth seriously considered the possibility, wondering what would happen if Otto tried to escape. Perhaps he might accidentally be killed during the escape, conveniently solving his problem. He considered the anonymous individual he had hired who would go to the swamp later this evening to permanently eliminate his three other problems, namely, Maynard Kurtz, Adelaide Cooper and Dooley Kramer. If he could somehow rehire that person to secretly pay Otto a visit in the lockup in the middle of the night sometime soon… Farnsworth smiled inside, imagining how the village would grieve when they learned that Otto Nibbs had taken his own life out of an unrelenting sense of guilt and shame because of his questionable deeds. Indeed, it was another avenue to consider so he could secure his place in Kanesbury society.

  Amanda lightly cleared her throat, drawing Farnsworth’s gaze. “Well, Zachary? Have you made up your mind?”

  “Hmmm? Oh, I guess I have,” he replied with a thin smile. “Weighing both sides of the matter, I’ve come to the conclusion that more people would be properly served if we proceeded with a trial as soon as possible. I’ll talk to Otto tomorrow to see if this is acceptable and to make sure he’s had enough time to prepare to defend himself.” Farnsworth reached for the loaf of warm bread and ripped off a small piece. “I’ll also let Constable Brindle know so he can put his case together on behalf of the village.” He looked up at Katherine and Sophia. “Is this satisfactory to you both?”

  “Very much so,” replied Sophia with a relieved smile. “I’m quite appreciative of your efforts, Mr. Farnsworth.”

  “As am I,” Katherine said as she raised her teacup and took a sip. “It was fortunate that we met tonight and were able to discuss this matter without rancor or distrust.”

  “Fortunate indeed,” he said, catching Amanda’s gaze.

  Amanda smiled with a tinge of guilt. “I suppose it’s no use pretending, Zachary, that this dinner was planned solely for my husband and me to get more acquainted with you. You’re too perceptive to believe that. My dear friends, Sophia and Katherine, had planned to speak to you about Otto’s trial, but Katherine asked if I might intervene to help move things along. So, as Oscar and I were planning to invite you over one of these days anyway, I saw no reason why we couldn’t boil two chickens in one kettle.” Amanda gently patted his arm. “I hope you’re not offended by my slight deception, Zachary.”

  Farnsworth sat back in his chair and grinned. “Not in the least, Amanda. In fact, I’m embarrassingly flattered that others at this table think so highly of me. I am merely a citizen of the village just like the rest of you,” he said, briefly eyeing Katherine. “So please, think nothing more of it. It has been a wonderful evening so far, both the company and this fine meal.”

  Oscar raised his wine glass as a show of appreciation for the man’s kind words. “But rest assured, Zachary, that later you and I shall go off to one of the parlors and sample a fine vintage I’ve been saving. There we can have a long talk about politics and business and whatever else strikes our fancy.”

  Amanda laughed lovingly. “And we three women completely understand that you men don’t want us around bothering you. So after we all have dessert, Sophia, Katherine and I will take tea in another room for our own private chat.”

  “As you wish, my dear,” Oscar said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek.

  “Speaking of dessert,” Katherine said, “Lana, one of the kitchen girls, asked me to check on her sugar glaze for the cinnamon bread. She was trying a recipe I had concocted for the party here during the Harvest Festival. I promised to peek in after dinner.”

  “My Katherine is always looking out for others,” Sophia proudly said.

  When the meal concluded, Katherine excused herself to step into the kitchen. But when she stood up from the dinner table, her facial muscles tightened and she immediately placed a hand upon the edge of her chair to steady herself, appearing lightheaded.

  “Are you all right?” her mother asked worriedly.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Amanda said.

  “I’m fine,” Katherine softly replied, standing still for a second or two before her countenance relaxed. “I guess I rose from my seat too quickly. I’m quite all right now,” she added, walking slowly toward the doorway with a pleasant smile. “Now don’t let me put a damper on this evening. C
ontinue your conversation. I’ll be back momentarily.” She exited the room.

  “My, but I do hope she’s not putting on a brave face,” Amanda said, fidgeting with a turquoise bead necklace she wore. “It’d be a shame if she missed the rest of the evening, especially when she was so adamant that I hold the dinner on this particular night.”

  “Oh, is something special about tonight?” Farnsworth casually inquired as he reached for his wine.

  “It is the last day of autumn,” she replied. “Katherine had mentioned that fact when she asked me to play hostess. Whether or not that’s the reason, I’m not sure. But she was rather set on this date.” She shrugged before picking up her glass, only to find with disappointment that it was empty. “Oh well, you can ask her about it when she comes back, Zachary, if you’d like. In the meantime, more wine, anyone?”

  After leaving the dining room, Katherine went to the kitchen now toasty warm from the heat of the fireplace. Lana was busy at one of the island counters glazing a loaf of cinnamon bread with sugar icing. Katherine walked up and complimented her on her artistry.

  “It looks so delicious,” she said amid the bustle of the other workers.

  “Thank you for suggesting this recipe the other day,” Lana replied. “I sampled some earlier and you’re right–it is delicious. You and Amanda’s guests are in for a treat.”

  “They are, but unfortunately, I’m not,” Katherine replied, appearing suddenly tired when Lana glanced up. “I wish I could stay, but I’m not feeling well at the moment.”

  “I hope it’s nothing you ate!”

  “No. The meal was excellent. I’m just out of sorts. Maybe I’m coming down with a spot of something or other,” she said with a weary sigh. “Could you be a dear and inform Amanda that I went home for the night? With my deepest regrets, of course. I’ll stop by tomorrow if I’m feeling better and apologize in person.”

 

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