"I can't imagine what we would talk about. I'm overwhelmed already and it isn't even noon."
"The southerners are all over you like a plague of ticks. They lost the caber toss and now they're frantic to find themselves a winner. Lyncoln tapped a package on the tea table. That's for you. A solstice present."
"You didn't need to do that..."
"Just say thank you and open it up. Something to sweeten your day, which I'm sure will be a trying one."
Regina's cheeks colored. Thank you. She tore the wrapping and smiled at the box of chocolates. Chocolate was expensive and not always easy to come by in Red Wolf. Oh, Lyncoln, this is so kind of you."
"Consider it a bribe to sit and listen to me for a bit. I want to tell you a story."
"Tell it. Regina bit into a piece of chocolate and smiled in pleasure.
"A few weeks ago, I was staying overnight at an inn in Thorn Tree on my way home from visiting a friend. The Goose on a Bucket is a nice inn. Loni Calhoun runs it. I always stay there. Anyways, this cub comes in with a foreigner and Loni stands the cub on a table and announces to the room that he's Cullen Blackwood's son. My ears perked up. I always wagered on a horse if I knew Cullen was riding it."
"So did Johfrit. Cullen rode like Death over a battlefield."
"I hear that his son is every bit as good as Cullen, but we're getting off the topic. Cooley had a lot to say about Kynyr. When I got home, I related it to my Dad. We came to Wolffgard for the witan, already aligned with Kynyr. Furthermore, we knew about his unmarried sisters. We hoped I could make a match with one, but Kady made it clear that we were fishing in the wrong lake."
Regina laughed. You've always fished the wrong lakes, Lyncoln."
"Not always. I caught Terry, didn't I? Lyncoln studied the teacup in his hands for a moment. My devotion to whimsy puts a lot of myn off. It never bothered Terry, or her family."
"You miss her?"
"Terribly. There's a hole in me large enough to chase a pig through. Lyncoln tried to smile at the comic image, and failed, falling back into the mood that had hold of him. Do you miss Johfrit?"
"Do you really need to ask? Regina's eyes softened, looking close to sudden tears.
"Why'd you remarry so soon?"
"Vertram. Without a legal protector, he would have seized my cubs, their inheritance, and myself."
"Do you love Reist?"
"Not that way."
"I see. Lyncoln raised his eyes from his cup, shaking himself loose from his memories, and focused on Reggie again. Getting back to my story. I need to get it told and over with. I don't like being serious, Reggie. It's not how I prefer to relate to the world; which is why my Dad made me point dog for the midland thanes. I'm the only dog that no one would ever suspect of doing something serious."
"Oh my gods. You told Stone and the others about Vertram and Clennan's plans."
"And there's my story, Reggie. I felt that you ought to know, because you'd be one of those who will find themselves in the middle of fires I lit. I apologize in advance for any difficulties it causes you. Lyncoln drained his cup and rose. Enjoy your chocolates and try not to let those southern vultures pick your bones clean. If it gets to be too much, just holler and I'll give them the what for."
Lyncoln opened the door to leave and nearly pulled the knob out of Reist's hands who was entering at the same time.
"Excuse me. Lyncoln squeezed past Reist and disappeared down the corridor.
Reist frowned at Lyncoln's back until he lost sight of the mon, and then slipped into the Rose Room, closing the door behind him. Was he bothering you, Reggie?"
"He gave me a box of chocolates and told me a story. Nothing more."
"If he bothers you, tell me."
Regina bristled. I can take care of myself, thank you kindly. Lyncoln's a bit queer, but he's nice once you get used to him."
"That must have been some story. Reist kissed Regina's forehead and dropped onto the chair nearest her. He pulled a pocket flask out and poured himself a measure of ginwhich was easier to come by than whiskeyinto a teacup and sipped it.
"You're drinking early."
"I've been up since before dawn and got very little sleep last night. Kynyr's moving into the manor in two days and I need to be certain the place is secure."
"Where did Clennan get so many myn? From what I'm hearing, Heatherford practically threw an army at the lawgivers."
Reist propped his feet on the table. Near as I can tellClennan brought somewhere between forty and fifty myn with him. His servants and such were all soldiers. The one time I don't act on my gut instincts, I nearly get our lawgivers killed. I thought they seemed a bit off-kilter, but I didn't follow up on it. There were too many other things demanding my attention."
"You can't blame yourself for that."
"Oh, I'm notyet. I'm still at the cover my arse stage. I arrested everyone from Heatherford."
"Then why's Jocelyn still loose?"
"Standing orders direct from Kynyr by way of Stone. Don't touch the bitches or cubs."
"So Jocelyn is free to go around spewing her venom."
Reist shrugged. No one's listening to her. The arrest warrants have gone out to Heatherford. Pandeena and her bodyguardsor whatever they arehave Jumped to Heatherford to implement them. We're pulling Heatherford's teeth; making an example of them."
"Putting them in cells or house arrest?"
"House arrest."
"More suites to ready. More work for me. How many?"
"Six. I want them all at the end of one of the wings, adjacent to each other so it's easier to keep an eye on them and control their movements."
"I'll see what I can put together."
"Which brings us to my next reason for coming. I want you to evict Berneen from Clennan's suite. I have orders to secure and search it for documents and other evidence of what Clennan was up to."
"The sooner I do that the better, I suppose. Regina moved her box of chocolates to a desk drawer.
"Do you mind if I just sit here a bit?"
Regina made a moue at him. So long as you don't touch my chocolates and I don't find you drunk when I returnI have no problem with it. Just don't make a habit of it."
"I won't. Reist straightened and took another sip from his cup. If you encounter my father, don't tell him where to find me."
Regina shook her head. You can't avoid him forever, Reist."
"I can try. He ran his finger idly around the rim of his cup. When I first knew I was returning to Wolffgard, I told Stone that I could not imagine facing Vertram sober. Now I have you and your cubs to consider."
"You were as bad as he was. Regina moved back to the chair as if to sit down, and then stood with her hand on the arm, studying his face.
"Was. That's the key word, Reggie. My life isn't about hopes and dreamslike other myn. It's a process of atonement. I'm not there yet, but I want to be one day."
"I don't know what to make of you."
"Then don't. Just let it be."
"You're talking in circles."
Reist averted his eyes, lowering them to the table. Go evict Berneen and let me be. This conversation is heading in a direction I'm not ready to go yet."
"So be it. Regina left the room, wondering what to do with Berneen.
* * * *
Malthus paced his study, fuming, hands clasped behind his back. The thanes had been snubbing him ever since Kynyr hanged Clennan and declared himself king. With all the mutual animosity between them, Malthus felt certain that Kynyr would either hang or banish him. His pawns and allies gone, Malthus felt the itch of desperation climb his back. Only a single mon remained alive of the guardsmyn that Malthus once drank and played cards with: Eamon Sumner. Better a single small pawn than none at all.
He went to the liquor cabinet, took one of his mismatched glasses out, and sketched a spell on it. The rune appeared, glittered for an instant and melted into the crystal surface, vanishing.
He closed the cabinet and turned as a knock on t
he door preceded Eamon's arrival. Malthus gestured at a chair by the low table.
Eamon settled uneasily into his chair. You sent for me. What do you want?"
"Conversation. Would you care for a drink? Malthus opened the liquor cabinet, took out the pair of mismatched glasses, and a bottle of wine.
"No, thank you. Eamon lowered his eyes.
"You never had any trouble drinking with me at the Striped Dog. Why now? Malthus poured two glasses and settled across the table from Eamon.
"My being here doesn't look right."
"Let me worry about that. Do you still believe my sons should inherit?"
Eamon shrugged. Don't matter what I think. Kynyr is king."
"True. Malthus pushed the spelled glass toward him. Drink. It's very fine wine."
"I'd rather not."
Malthus lunged for Eamon's mind, only to be forced aside. His eyes narrowed, and he noticed the edge of a chain around the lycan's neck. What's that you're wearing?"
"This? Eamon grasped the chain and pulled it out. An eye carved from rowan hung upon it. Had the priest bless it. All this talk of vampires has me nervous."
"I can imagine. Malthus extended his hand. Can I have a look at it?"
"No. Eamon dropped the charm down his shirt again.
"You killed Lon Anglesey and wounded William Galloway."
"I was only obeying orders. That's all. Eamon pressed his hands together and stared at them.
"I need your help. My sons need your help."
Eamon shoved himself off the chair. I'm not playing that game anymore."
Then he plunged from the room as if a devil rode his heels.
* * * *
Berneen Hamilton huddled on the sofa in the parlor of Clennan's suite. At first she had been glad that he was dead. Then Reist came and took away the servants. Terrified that they were coming for her next, she had been afraid to sleep; afraid to emerge; afraid to run; afraid to be seen. Terror had immobilized her with indecision.
The door opened and Jocelyn came in. Berneen had left it unlocked, because locking it did not matterthe soldiers would only knock it apart otherwise.
"Hello, Berneen. Jocelyn had a quaver in her voice. I see they didn't arrest you either."
"Jocelyn. She acknowledged her in a dull voice, blinking at her through a fog of weariness.
"No one will talk to me. You'll talk to me, won't you?"
"Why should I talk to you? Berneen shifted listlessly on the sofa, refusing to look at Jocelyn.
"You loved my grandfather. Doubt flickered in Jocelyn's eyes. You were his last mistress."
Berneen glanced at Jocelyn with a flash of temper. I hated him. I'm glad he's dead."
Jocelyn recoiled in dismay, recovered in an instant, and slapped Berneen's face. Slut. Stupid filthy slut."
Berneen snarled and haired over, barring her fangs at Jocelyn. Don't go calling me a slut. You're no better than I am. Vertram's got a wife. You're just his whore."
"I'm a Doherty!"
Jocelyn slapped her again and this time Berneen went for her, grabbing her hair and yanking her head around.
With a yelp, Jocelyn shoved Berneen off the sofa; however, Berneen refused to let go of Jocelyn's hair and they both tumbled to the floor.
Jocelyn landed atop Berneen, trying to pry her opponent's hand from her hair, and slapping her with the other. Berneen's hand changed to claws and she raked Jocelyn's face. Jocelyn shrieked, twisted away from Berneen, and scrambled for the door, leaving Berneen with a fistful of hair.
Berneen gained her knees and lunged, catching the sash of Jocelyn's robe. She jerked Jocelyn off her feet, straddled her, tangled her fingers in Jocelyn's hair, and began banging her head against the carpets. I hated him! I hated him. And I hate you too."
Jocelyn tried to crawl forward, but Berneen held on tight. Caterwauling at the top of her lungs, Jocelyn seized the edge of the sofa, but only succeeded in overturning it.
The door opened.
"Excuse me, ladies. If this is a private conversation, I'll be glad to leave you to it."
Berneen released Jocelyn and clambered off her shame-faced. No, Lyncoln, I-we ... uhm."
"I've always enjoyed watching a pair of bitches rolling around on the flooror the bed for that matterhaving a good time."
Jocelyn got to her feet and headed for the door only to find her way blocked by Regina.
"What's going on? Regina frowned, running her gaze from the bleeding scratches on Jocelyn's face, to Berneen's blush, and Lyncoln's bemused smile. What are you doing here, Lyncoln?"
"Rescuing Jocelyn from Berneen, I think. He chuckled. I was walking by and heard the screaming, so I poked my nose in."
"That carpenter's castoff started it. Jocelyn shot Lyncoln a venomous glare. And I didn't need your help. I was winning."
"Oh? Lyncoln raised an eyebrow at her. Is that why you were on the bottom getting your head banged against the floor?"
"No one whips the Dohertys. She fled past Regina and out the door.
"What started it, Berneen? Regina fixed Berneen in place with a stern glance.
"I did, I guess. I told her how much I hated Clennan and she started slapping me. She swayed and started to crumble.
Lyncoln caught her before she could fall, swept her up in his arms, and cradled her. He studied her face. When's the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday morning. Berneen lost the battle with her emotions, and broke into sobbing. I've been afraid to go out and no one's come to check on me. The servants are all gone."
"No one is going to hurt you, Berneen. Regina brushed Berneen's hair back from her face. The king has ordered that none of the bitches will be harmed. But I must move you to another room."
"My things."
"I'll have them brought to you."
"If her room is ready, then lead on Reggie. Lyncoln settled Berneen in his arms better and followed Regina through the manor.
They passed Kissie in the hallway, and Regina gestured her over. Bring Berneen some breakfast to the Ivy Suite. She'll be staying there from now on."
The Ivy Suite was small and cozy, just three rooms, a parlor, a private study, and a bedroom.
Lyncoln laid Berneen on the sofa and moved a small table close to it so that she could eat comfortably when the food arrived. He pulled a chair up and sat across from her, employing the table as a reassuring wall of distance. Lyncoln hoped that would lessen any feelings of panic Berneen might experience on being alone with a male.
"Now, my flower, tell me what has you in such a tizzy. I'll fix it if I can. I may be a nutter, but I assure you I'm harmless. Lyncoln chuckled, savoring the word that Jocelyn had become so fixated upon.
"I was Clennan's mistress. They executed him."
"Well, he was a traitor. That doesn't reflect prettily on you, but King Kynyr is an understanding sort. I doubt you have aught to fear on that account."
Berneen swallowed, lowered her eyes, and said in a very small voice. I'm pregnant."
"Clennan liked to brag about that; about how his withered twig still had some life in it. I had never had the pleasure. Terry was barren."
"A mistress?"
"Never wanted one. Terry ... well, Terry was unique. Lyncoln pulled back from his memories. He was having one of his bad days, when all he could think about was his late wife. Any and all sources of distraction were appreciated, and he had been hunting them from the moment he awakened. Tell me, is it really Clennan's? Is that the problem?"
"The Readers said it was."
"I'm not asking what they said. Clennan's proclivities were not as hidden as you might believe. Servants talk. And they talk to harmless nutters rather freely. Lyncoln's expression turned smug. If I ever told myn what I know about the thanes, half of them would be hanging themselves tomorrow out of shame and humiliation."
Berneen giggled, caught at the edge of hysteria. Faerwald. I think it's Faerwald's."
"I assure you, Berneen. No one is going to hurt you. Lyncoln patted her hand. Must be
tough having the wrong dog's bun in your oven. Comes out either burnt or tasting bad."
Berneen giggled again.
"You don't have to keep it, my dear. No one would blame you for ridding yourself of it. A trip to the midwife would cure what ails you."
"But Mary's a Sinclair. The edge returned to Berneen's voice. She'd never help me."
"Mary Sinclair would never turn away a bitch in your kind of trouble. Besides, I'd pester her until she did and she knows it."
"Pester her?"
"I'm very good at pestering, if you haven't noticed."
Kissie arrived with a tray of tea, hot scones, clotted cream, and strawberry jam.
"Kissie, would you have Georgie Rogan hitch up a wagon?"
"Yes, Master Lyncoln."
He waited until she left, and smiled at Berneen. Eat first. Then I'll drive you over and pester her into a mouse hole if I must."
Reist's myn had already begun searching Clennan's suite for incriminating evidence. Lyncoln prevailed upon them to allow Berneen her clothing. Once he had got them both dressed to deal with the chill weather, he drove Berneen to the Maguire home. The butler, Henry Butterum, let them inside and they stood in the foyer.
Berneen's tightly laced fingers twisted, fighting an attack of nerves.
Lyncoln gave her a sympathetic look, and lunged into the fray on her behalf. We've come to offer our condolences to the family. Lady Hamilton needs to speak with Mary on a private matter first. If you'll just show us to her, good mon, we can be about the rest of our business."
Henry eyed Berneen with open disdain and a shade of dubiousness. The family would appreciate it if you came another day."
"You know how these things are, don't you? Lyncoln grabbed Berneen's arm, hooked it through his, and strolled past Henry. I seem to remember they like to sit in the kitchen..."
"Master Lyncoln..."
"Oh, no problem, Henry. We can find our way. Don't let us keep you from your tasks."
"Master Lyncoln..."
Henry trailed them halfway to the kitchen and gave up.
A tiny smile brushed the corners of Berneen's lips, and she struggled not to look at Lyncoln.
Sitting alone at the long kitchen table, Mary Sinclair stared into a cup of mulled wine. She raised her eyes to Lyncoln and then swept her gaze across Berneen, a wary light entering their depths. Why have you brought her, Lyncoln? If Cahira sees her, you'll be able to hear the screams a mile off."
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