Plus, what if it wasn’t Blayk? Iaian had been right, he had no solid proof—right now, they only knew that the two crimes were linked. And even that was tenuous.
Is this what you meant, Daddy, when you said you wished for me to join the Guard to make a man of me? That you wished me to be forced to make such awful decisions with consequences that could affect, not just life or death, but the course of Flingarian history?
Finally, he came to a decision.
“I may be able to help with your lisping gnome.”
EIGHTEEN
Blayk stared at the slates that Teffeth had left for him, as well as the scrolls he’d provided. The gnome had, at least, been apologetic about giving him so many things to read. Blayk had asked, “Can you at least prioritize them?”
Teffeth had raised a bushy white eyebrow. “I’m afraid, thir, that thethe are the priotithed oneth.”
“I was afraid you would say that. No one warned me about this, Teffeth.”
“About what, thir?”
“The paperwork. Ruling Cliff’s End has been my birthright, and I have been eagerly training for the day when I would do so practically since I was a teenager.” He had shaken his head. “All the lessons in politics and diplomacy, all the historical studies, all the tactical training, and no one ever bothered to inform me of the sheer volume of paperwork.”
“I’m sure they wanted it to be a thurprithe, thir.”
Blayk had sighed. Teffeth was invaluable in so many ways, but his inability to remember protocol was maddening. “I keep telling you, Teffeth, I am now properly referred to as ‘my lord.’ It is well past time you got used to it.” Luckily, Teffeth was so good at the rest of his job, that Blayk generally overlooked it, with only occasional, futile reminders such as this.
“Of courth, thir. Is there anything elthe, thir?”
Another sigh. “No, Teffeth, that will be all.”
That had been an hour ago, and Blayk’s eyes were starting to glaze over from all the various reports and requisitions and manifests. They had merged into a single blur.
He’d been hoping it would be more fun than this.
His secretary—another staff member, like Teffeth, whom he’d brought back from Iaron, a tall elven woman—stepped in and said, “Lieutenants ban Wyvald and Tresyllione to see you, my lord.”
Whatever gratitude he felt at his secretary, at least, remembering his title was leavened by annoyance at those two being together. The whole point of the exercise was to split them up.
It was rapidly becoming apparent that he had overestimated Amilar Grovis’s suitability for the job. He had assumed that the banker’s son would be a compliant subordinate, but it seemed his compliance bled over into spinelessness, making him ineffective.
Still, if nothing else, yelling at the two detectives would prove a nice palliative from the endless streams of paperwork. “Send them in.”
The secretary bowed and departed, with the bearded man from Myverin and the ugly half-elf coming in moments later.
Before Blayk could even say anything, ban Wyvald said, “Our apologies, my lord, we both know that you wished us to remain separated, but our cases found themselves dovetailing.”
That brought Blayk up short. “Excuse me?”
“May we sit?” ban Wyvald asked.
Distractedly, Blayk indicated the two guest chairs with a gesture. “Which cases are those, Lieutenants?”
“Actually,” ban Wyvald said, “all three active cases in the detective squad have turned out to be linked to each other. It started with a halfling named Beffel, who was assaulted in a tavern, but the people who perpetrated the assault used a Keefda stone—a very rare and expensive magickal item, which hid their identities.”
Blayk frowned. “So you were unable to identify them.”
“No, but the Keefda stone was unusual to say the least. There are only half a dozen in all Flingaria. Purchasing such an item would require someone of great means—not the type of person who would be engaged in a bar brawl.”
That would never have occurred to Blayk. He had to admit to being grudgingly impressed. “So were you able to find out who purchased the stone?”
Tresyllione finally spoke. “As it happens, we were. Or, rather, Dru and Aleta were. You see, they were already looking into Snavli charms that the assassins at Jayka Park were using, so they also inquired about the Keefda. Since they were investigating an attempted regicide—a crime that carries with it a punishment of being boiled in oil—they thought they might get more cooperation and less dissembling.”
Tugging on the ends of his mustache, Blayk made a grunting noise. That, too, would never have occurred to him.
“And to everyone’s surprise,” Tresyllione continued, “the same person purchased both items from a magick shop in Mermaid. Sadly, we received no name, as the buyer didn’t identify himself, and the shop owner provided only a very basic description.”
Blayk nodded. “So the people who tried to kill the king and queen were also responsible for this assault on a halfling? That is fascinating, but I believe Lieutenant Tresyllione was performing my mother’s useless investigation into my father’s natural death.”
“It was not a natural death. I’m sorry to inform you of this—” Tresyllione didn’t, to Blayk’s mind, sound especially apologetic despite her words. “—but your father was, in fact, murdered. The house faerie was correct that he was poisoned. The actual act was committed by a bitter ex-pageboy who was fired from the castle—he was murdered right after administering the poison to your father’s favorite drinking mug two weeks prior to when Sir Rommett found his body.”
“So the murder is solved, then. And without the waste of a trial, too. Excellent work.”
“It’s not that simple,” Tresyllione said, “as the ex-pageboy in question, a young man named Del Francit, didn’t have the means to purchase the poison used. He had no means at all, in fact, and was living on the streets. The poison used is also very rare and hard to obtain—it’s called Emet, and it used to be used as a weed-killer.”
“What do you mean ‘used to be’?” Blayk tilted his head in surprise. “I was under the impression that Emet was fairly common.”
“Not for some years, my lord,” ban Wyvald said gently. “In fact, the last two vials of it to be found in Cliff’s End were both purchased by a man named Aron Fankell—one of the two suspects we’ve brought in on the king and queen’s murder attempt. We found one vial in the boarding house where he’d been living—the other was seen by Boneen on his peel-back of your father’s office, used by Francit.”
“Whoever conspired to have the king and queen killed also killed your father,” Tresyllione said. “And whoever is behind that conspiracy is not someone of Francit’s station. It had to be someone of noble birth.”
“Why do you say that, Lieutenant?” Blayk asked angrily.
“Too much money was thrown around—and too much ignorance. Someone who never got his hands dirty or ever paid close attention to the minutiae of gardening, and so didn’t know that Emet poison was rare when he or she commissioned Fankell to buy it. Someone who thinks nothing of spending thousands of gold coins on magick designed to cover up the simplest of crimes. Someone who doesn’t realize that attempted coverups often do more to reveal the perpetrator of a crime than a lack of one would.”
Grinning, ban Wyvald added, “Had it not been for the use of a Keefda stone, Beffel’s assault would have barely been noticed, and likely never been solved. Mind you, getting the information on Francit—which was key to the case—was incredibly difficult. You see, many of the nobility in the castle were far too busy preparing for a war.”
Blayk blinked. The change in subject was unexpected—as was the subject in question, as ban Wyvald had no business knowing anything about that. “And what makes you say that, Lieutenant?”
“Certainly nothing in the current political landscape suggests it. Flingaria has been at peace since the Elf Queen’s death. Yet both the port and the entry
ways to the city-state via the Forest of Nimvale are being better secured, the portcullis is being repaired, stronger armor is being requisitioned for the Castle Guard, the guardsmen are being recertified half a year in advance, Sir Palrik’s largely ceremonial position of military advisor is now occupied by one of the heroes of Flingaria, new swords are being commissioned by the finest swordmaster in the city-state, taxes are being raised, the least able-bodied guards are being encouraged to retire, and so on.”
Now Blayk stood. This was intolerable. “How did you learn this information? The nobles were not to speak of it to the likes of you.”
“In fact,” Tresyllione said, “the nobles were specifically instructed by Lady Meerka—your mother—to cooperate fully with our investigation.”
Glowering at the woman, Blayk said tightly, “Your investigation, Lieutenant. I am still not clear as to what Lieutenant ban Wyvald here was doing questioning the nobility when I specifically instructed Captain Grovis to remove you from that duty.”
Ban Wyvald leaned back in the guest chair. “Really? I’m afraid that I never received that instruction. In any event, my lord, even leaving aside our discussions with the nobility, we would have been able to learn of your attempt to put Cliff’s End on a war footing simply by observation of the actions you have taken with regard to the Castle Guard, the replacement of Sir Palrik, the repair of the portcullis, and the commissions from Molano.”
“Plus, guards talk to each other,” Tresyllione said. “For example, several from Mermaid have talked about the tighter security restrictions on the port.”
“Yes, well, those restrictions are rather necessary.” Blayk rose from his seat, wishing to look down at the detectives instead of across at them. “You say, Lieutenant ban Wyvald, that we are at peace, but that is a temporary state. The elves are beginning to reorganize themselves into a government with their Consortium, and the next logical step after that is a new regime that I guarantee will be inhospitable to humans and dwarves alike.”
Tresyllione showed a surprising disdain for this statement, given that the mainstream of elven society viewed her as an abomination. “We met a representative of the Consortium a few weeks ago, my lord. They’re focused entirely upon useless war tribunals. I can’t imagine they’d even be able to build themselves up to be a threat any time soon.”
“Then you lack imagination, Lieutenant,” Blayk said. “Since the Consortium formed, the population of the elven lands has increased. Before long, they will have enough for a standing army. And when that happens, it is not Velessa that they will target, but rather Cliff’s End. We are the most populous, most prosperous, most important city in Flingaria. Most of the trade that Iaron and Barlin and Treemark and Velessa depend upon comes through here.”
Nodding, as if understanding, ban Wyvald said, “So you’re concerned that the Elven Consortium is preparing a standing army, so you’re doing the same with the Castle Guard?”
“I am glad that you understand, ban Wyvald. Now if there is nothing else—”
“But I’m afraid I don’t understand the rush.”
Blayk blinked. “Excuse me?”
Tresyllione said, “You’ve been in power for a week and you’ve got the entire western wing of the castle running around like headless hobgoblins. It’s obvious you’re trying to turn the Guard into your pet army and phase out the investigatory elements—why else put an idiot like Grovis in charge, split us up, and get rid of Boneen?”
Teeth clenched, Blayk said, “The Castle Guard is my ‘pet army,’ as you so crudely put it, Lieutenant. I may do with them—with you—as I wish.”
“Yes, but you seem very much in a hurry to make us over,” Tresyllione said. “Torin’s question is valid—why such a rush?”
“That is not your concern.”
“Quite right,” ban Wyvald said, “our apologies, my lord, we’re not here to discuss how you choose to rule the city-state, we’re here to inform you of the progress of our investigation.”
“Which is considerable,” Tresyllione added. “We have the names of all four of the Jayka Park assassins and two of them are in custody. It’s only a matter of time before we find the other two.”
Blayk was about to comment when he noticed ban Wyvald staring at Blayk’s desk. “Those are sensitive documents, Lieutenant.”
“Actually, it’s the items that aren’t documents at all that I was staring at. I noticed that your aide uses slates rather than scrolls.”
“Oh, he uses scrolls as well, but the slates are useful for ephemeral information that only needs to be conveyed and not necessarily recorded. Chalk is more readily available than ink, particularly in Iaron, and scrolls tend to take up a great deal of space.”
Nodding appreciatively, ban Wyvald said, “A very efficient method.”
“It is, in fact, Teffeth who first posed the notion of using slates.”
“Teffeth is your aide?” Tresyllione asked.
Blayk nodded. “Of course. He is invaluable. I could not run the city-state without him. Indeed, I doubt I would have made it through the past several years without his assistance.”
Tresyllione looked at him quizzically. “Interesting that you say that. Because you were without his services for several weeks.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your aide has a very distinctive lisp, my lord. Therefore his presence in the castle prior to your arrival was noted by several of the staff.”
“What of it?” Blayk asked archly. “My mother sent for me when Father became ill. I commonly send Teffeth ahead to prepare for my arrival.”
“Oh, and Teffeth did arrive ahead of you after Lady Meerka summoned you, also—but that was his second trip to Cliff’s End in recent weeks.”
“Impressive,” ban Wyvald added, “since Iaron is several days away by horse. But then, a person of means could easily purchase a Teleport Spell—not available to anyone, but the son of the lord of a demesne? Quite affordable.”
Blayk did not like the tenor of this conversation at all. He stood behind his desk and leaned forward, palms flat on a part of the surface that wasn’t covered in slates and scrolls. “What are you getting at, Lieutenants?”
Tresyllione smiled unpleasantly. “Earlier, we mentioned that we had only a vague description of the person who purchased the magick and hired Gobink, Fankell, and the other two. He was described as a gnome with a lisp—who was from Iaron.”
That brought Blayk up short. He stood upright and found himself with nothing to say.
Then he laughed.
He kept laughing for several seconds.
Wiping a tear from his eye, he turned to look at the two detectives whom he had specifically instructed that Grovis separate because they were too good at their jobs. “Well done, Lieutenants. I have to admit, I knew intellectually that the pair of you were skilled at your jobs, but you exceeded even my expectations. I suppose there were ways I could have covered my tracks a bit better. Indeed, the Keefda stone was, in retrospect, such an obvious blunder.”
The two lieutenants exchanged a glance. “So,” Tresyllione said slowly, “you admit to being behind the conspiracy to kill the king and queen?”
“And,” ban Wyvald added, “to killing your father?”
“I admit to putting the events in motion that led to Father’s death, yes. It would be disingenuous to deny it at this point. You have many of the pieces already, and it seems obvious that you will have many more given time.” He sat back down at his desk. “But you no longer have that time. I am the lord of this demesne and I hereby declare your investigation to cease. Cliff’s End is the greatest city in Flingaria, and it will soon take its rightful place as the center of the world. It would have been easier if those four idiots Teffeth hired had done their job properly, but I suppose the more traditional approach will work.”
Tresyllione looked upon him as if he was insane. He supposed a halfbreed malcontent like her would misinterpret his vision as insanity. “You intend to conquer Velessa?
With what? The Castle Guard are—”
“Mine, to do with as I will. And I have no need to conquer Velessa, I simply intend to declare myself the ruler of all the human and dwarven lands in Flingaria. Any who wish to continue to trade via Cliff’s End will have to bend their knee to me—including Marcus and Marta. And if they do not, they will be denied that trade and cripple themselves.”
“And if they decide to attack, you’ll have fortified the city-state,” ban Wyvald said, nodding slowly. “Very audacious.”
Blayk shook his head. “I begged Father, I pleaded with him. There was no need for him to toady to those idiot monarchs, they were worth a third of him. He controlled the jewel of the world, and he never once took advantage.” He sighed. “Ah, well, no matter. You will, as I said, cease your investigation. If you do not, you will be removed from your posts.”
Again, ban Wyvald and Tresyllione exchanged glances.
“You may leave now,” Blayk said, since they obviously weren’t getting the hint.
Tresyllione stood up. “My lord, we cannot simply let this pass. We must arrest you for the murder of your father and the attempted—”
“Oh, don’t be tedious, Lieutenant. The pair of you knew the truth before you walked into this room. You are smart enough to have figured out my rather elaborate plan—and bravo for that—but you are also, I should think, both smart enough to know that it would change nothing.”
One of ban Wyvald’s bushy red eyebrows rose. “You killed the rightful ruler of Cliff’s End and tried to do the same to the rightful rulers of the human lands, and you think nothing changes?”
Blayk made a dismissive gesture. “All the greatest leaders of Flingaria have arisen to power by killing a rightful ruler. Queen Marta’s own father became monarch by slicing open King Britt’s throat. The greatest autarch in dwarven history was Salvalig, but he only became such by hiring an assassin to deal with Autarch Urlanik. Even the Elf Queen, for all her flaws, was the most successful leader of the elven people, and she united the elves by slaying all the petty monarchs who controlled the various fiefdoms in elf country. And I will be spoken of with the same reverence by history, rest assured, Lieutenants, long past when everyone has forgotten about either of you or of my father’s ridiculous experiment in turning the Castle Guard into some manner of policing agency. Now then, I am still lord of the demesne by right of birth. You will leave this office and never speak of any of this again. If you do, you shall be arrested and hanged, do I make myself clear?”
Gryphon Precinct (Dragon Precinct) Page 16
