Guardian of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  “There four men are,” Catrela had said, “friends of Amberesh and members of his organization. They the most likely culprits are.”

  “Gharibi Cammean, Hajimhi Jherjesh, Abakian Terjalesh, and Khazanjian Ojman,” Willow had said, referring to her sheet of notes. “I still think it’s Hajimhi.”

  “We must not jump to conclusions. All four will be at the sheteshi and Kerish will be sure you meet them. I do not like it.”

  “What don’t you like?”

  “This, much guessing is. We have no proof that it one of these men is, and if it one of them is, we do not know how he will react to being confronted. This may not bring us closer to proof.”

  “Amberesh recognized who the pendant belonged to. One or all of these men must know it, too. And if I’m wrong, and none of them respond to it, we try something else. But all of these principalities except Khazanjian are in opposition to Serjian, which suggests they could be behind the assassinations. And Khazanjian isn’t exactly friendly. It’s worth trying, Catrela.”

  Catrela had sighed, but said nothing more, and now Willow rubbed the spot where the pendant lay against her chest, with only the fabric of the giorjanesh between it and her skin. Catrela was right, this was fumbling in the dark, but it was all they could do for now.

  She wasn’t happy that Felix was with them. This was a kind of midnighting, and having a child along while she was working made her feel anxious, worrying about his safety as well as getting the job done. But Felix had pleaded with her—it was the last day of the sheteshi, the famous Eskandelic dog show, and there would be so many animals there—and in the end she’d given in. So long as Willow and Kerish and the bodyguards were there, he was protected. Even so, she felt more on edge than usual. She really shouldn’t have given in to his pleading.

  “Hajimhi,” Kerish said in a low voice, pointing. To her dismay, Willow saw Hajimhi Giaveni standing in one of the bays where the cages sat. Giaveni was deep in conversation with a much older man, lean and sinewy. A younger man crouched in front of the cage, brushing a brindled gray sighthound.

  “Is that Jherjesh?” she asked.

  “With the dog, yes.”

  “What do you think the odds are that Giaveni is going to start shouting at me when I approach?”

  “Leave that to me. Wait here, and once I’ve got him talking, come around the long way.” Kerish strolled off in the direction of the two men. Willow waited, her attention divided between Jherjesh and Giaveni. What was Kerish thinking? Giaveni had to be as angry at Serjian as he was at Willow. Though…Kerish had said it had looked like Hajimhi Principality had set Willow up to fall into that trap, so maybe his animosity was feigned.

  “I want to go look at the dogs, Willow,” Felix said.

  “In a minute, Felix.” Kerish had reached Giaveni and was making his bow. Giaveni paused a long moment before returning it—that couldn’t be good. There, Kerish was telling the man something. Giaveni responded. Kerish said something else, and suddenly Giaveni was paying very close attention to Kerish. His older companion took a few steps in Kerish’s direction, also very intent on him. Willow shook herself out of her stupor. “Come on,” she told Felix and the bodyguards.

  The long way around was very long, since Willow was sure walking on the oval when you didn’t have a dog was frowned on. She skirted a few more competitors, keeping her eyes on Jherjesh and resisting the urge to see if Giaveni was watching. If he was, there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  Jherjesh had set the brush aside and was trimming the dog’s claws when they arrived. He glanced up at them. “Tremontanans,” he said. “Stay away.”

  “I like your dog,” Felix said. “What’s her name?”

  Jherjesh laid down the little knife and regarded Felix. “You must the would-be King be,” he said. “And you his keeper.”

  “I’m Willow North,” Willow said. She’d expected antagonism and wasn’t surprised to be the recipient of it. “And this is King Felix Valant.”

  The dog whined and put a paw on Jherjesh’s knee. The young man scratched her head absently. “You murdered Serjian Amberesh,” he said.

  “Killed him in self-defense.” That one still struck a nerve, no matter how prepared she was for it.

  “You too small to fight well are. You must have tricked him.”

  Willow casually reached up to fiddle with the pendant. “I was lucky. So, Amberesh was a friend of yours?”

  Jherjesh made a dismissive sound, something between a grunt and a whistle. “I grew up. Amberesh did not.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.” Fiddle, fiddle.

  “Amberesh liked drinking and women and nothing else. I have other concerns. We had little in common these last two years.”

  “Well, I’m still sorry for your loss. I didn’t want to kill him.” Was the man completely unobservant?

  “You should have executed been. No son of a principality should be cut down like a dog by a foreigner and not avenged be.” Jherjesh’s eyes narrowed. “His pendant. You dare wear that, like a trophy?”

  His last words were a shout. Willow took a step back and put herself between Jherjesh and Felix. “This isn’t Amberesh’s,” she said in a level voice. “You don’t recognize it?”

  “Give it back,” Jherjesh said, reaching for her throat. Willow took a few more steps backward, nearly tripping over Felix. Jherjesh’s dog started barking, not at anyone in particular, but there was an edge to its voice that made Willow nervous. She glanced around quickly. They were drawing a lot of attention, but none of it was the kind she could depend on to come to her aid. The bodyguards hovered, one placing himself near Felix, the other looking as if he wanted to intervene in her conflict with Jherjesh but didn’t want to lay hands on the son of a principality if he wasn’t a direct threat to Felix.

  Then Kerish was there, stepping between her and Jherjesh. He said something that sounded harsh. Jherjesh responded, his voice husky and furious. He shoved Kerish, who stood firm and gripped the young man’s wrist, twisting it up and spinning him around. Jherjesh made a pained sound. Kerish leaned forward and spoke at some length into Jherjesh’s ear.

  A new voice cut across Kerish’s. Hajimhi Giaveni grabbed Willow’s shoulder in a painful grip. She twisted away. “Get your hands off me.”

  “You think this family more to insult? Get away now before I have you thrown out,” the Prince said. Kerish looked back at Willow, then released Jherjesh with a little shove. He took Willow’s hand and towed her and Felix away from the oval and away from the Hajimhis.

  “Slow down,” she protested.

  “Not until we’re at a safe distance,” Kerish said, but he slowed his steps. Eventually they came to a halt near the mouth of the corridor, where a dozen people watched Willow curiously. She ignored them. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Jherjesh thought the pendant belonged to Amberesh and that I’d taken it off his body. He said he and Amberesh hadn’t been close for a couple of years. I don’t think he’s the one.”

  “That’s good. I don’t want to encounter Giaveni again. All the Hajimhis are proud of their family honor, and we seem to keep insulting that.”

  “I don’t care anymore. If they want to be stupid, let them.”

  “You’re speaking rather loudly, Willow.”

  “I don’t—all right, I care a little. The more I antagonize them, the more likely they are to actively campaign against Serjian. Anyway, that’s one name down. Who’s next?”

  “I saw Khazanjian Ojman in the crowd as we rushed past. Let’s go talk to him.”

  Kerish aimed for a spot where the crowd was thickest. Laughter issued from the center of it, but it was strange laughter, echoing and discordant, with a lone voice letting out a mirthless laugh and then a dozen people joining in a moment later. Willow gripped Felix’s hand tighter. Now was not the time to lose hold of him.

  With some shoving, Kerish managed to get them to the center of the knot of people just in time for another one of those
horrible laughs to go off. The man doing the laughing had a cheerful, handsome face, with an aquiline nose and high, prominent cheekbones. He saw Willow, and the cheerfulness disappeared, replaced by a sly, appraising expression. He said something to Willow that made the crowd laugh. “I don’t speak Eskandelic,” Willow said.

  “This is Willow North, guardian to King Felix of Tremontane,” Kerish said, “and you can apologize to the lady right now.”

  “Of course,” Khazanjian Ojman said, his smile widening. “I welcome a beautiful lady to Eskandel. You beautiful are, for one so fierce.”

  “Thank you,” Willow said, feeling Kerish bristle. “I like your country.”

  “It the best is,” Ojman said. “You live here now?”

  “Until Eskandel decides to support Felix’s claim to the Crown of Tremontane.”

  Ojman looked down at Felix. “So young, King to be.” Felix said nothing. “I must show you Umberan, beautiful lady,” he said to Willow.

  “Willow already has a guide,” Kerish said.

  “I think she wants a better one.” Ojman gave Willow another sly glance.

  “That’s very nice of you,” Willow said, cutting off Kerish’s retort, “but I don’t think I need a guide.”

  “Then I think I show you…something else,” Ojman said, with a gesture that left no doubt as to what he meant.

  Kerish dropped Willow’s hand and shoved Ojman, who couldn’t go very far thanks to the press of the crowds. He laughed and shoved Kerish in turn. “Stop it, both of you!” Willow shouted. “Ojman, I’m not interested.”

  Ojman glanced at her where he was still wrestling with Kerish. His eyes widened slightly. Then he began laughing, an amused sound that was so different from his earlier mirthless laugh Willow couldn’t believe it had come from the same person. “You and I both out of luck are,” he said to Kerish. “Another man has got there first.”

  Kerish shoved him once more and broke free of his grasp. He said something furious in Eskandelic that made Ojman laugh harder and respond at length.

  Willow gasped. “Did he just say Terjalesh?”

  “You play him false,” Ojman said, jerking a thumb at Kerish. “Abakian Terjalesh has claimed you for his own.”

  “He has not,” Willow replied hotly.

  Ojman reached out and fingered the pendant. He managed to turn it into a caress, and Willow slapped his hand. That just made him laugh more. “He gave you this as love-token, and you wear it openly. Kerish is too stupid to know this. You bold are, Willow North.”

  “Thank you,” Willow said. “Kerish, let’s go.”

  The bodyguards had to shove hard to make a path out of the crowd surrounding Ojman, and Willow ultimately picked Felix up to carry him rather than risk him being crushed. “He’s disgusting,” she said.

  “I didn’t think he’d be so overt about it,” Kerish said.

  “It doesn’t matter. He told us who the pendant belongs to. We have to talk to Abakian Terjalesh.”

  “Willow, can’t we please just look at the dogs?” Felix said.

  Willow looked out across the great oval. So many people, so many animals…finding Terjalesh in this place might take some time. “All right,” she said. “Dogs first. But then we have an assassin to find.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  They came to the far end of the room, where Felix pulled free of her grasp and ran to the edge of the rope barrier, crying out, “Oh, look at the puppies!”

  Several small areas had been roped off and filled with cages that were open on top. Inside each, four to eight puppies romped or slept, watched over by men and women dressed all in silvery gray tunics and trousers. “These are purebred Kazhari sighthound pups,” Kerish told Willow. “They’re all the offspring of champions and very valuable. Most of them have probably already been purchased and are just being held here until the end of the competition.”

  “They’re adorable. Felix—”

  “I know not to touch them.” He was leaning as far forward as he could without overbalancing.

  The woman at the cage Felix was next to said something inquiring to Kerish, who shook his head. “She just wanted to know if we were in the market for a dog,” he told Willow. “They start at three hundred galt.”

  Willow whistled. That was the equivalent of almost four hundred Tremontanan guilders. “Is Ernest worth that much?”

  “Probably.”

  “I wish I’d known that. I wouldn’t have allowed Felix to accept that kind of gift.”

  “They wouldn’t have offered him to me if they minded,” Felix said, not turning around. “Besides, it’s too late now.”

  “I won’t take Ernest away, Felix.”

  “I know.” Felix squatted beside the cage and watched a tiny black head poke its nose through the bars.

  “So, do you have any idea where to find Terjalesh?” Willow asked.

  “None. He’s not exhibiting this year, and if he attends, it might be at any time. Do you have a backup plan?”

  “Another event? Go to the Abakian Residence and knock on the door? I’m just hoping he’s here and we can find him.”

  Felix laughed. One of the puppies was washing his face with its wet pink tongue. Willow glanced at the dogs’ keeper, but she didn’t seem to mind, so Willow just watched them play. Four hundred guilders. It was astonishing what people would pay for the most ordinary things. She’d never been hired to retrieve anything living, and her mind started churning over the possibilities—some kind of drug to keep the dog still, probably, because she wasn’t good with animals. Getting it out of the cage with all those keepers watching so closely would be even more difficult, but still possible—

  “I can’t wait for next year!” Felix said. “Do you think the keeper of the kennels would help me find someone to enter Ernest? Or maybe Gianesh will do it!”

  “Felix…” His small face was so alive with excitement it felt wrong to crush his dream. “Time enough to plan for that next year,” she said, and immediately felt awful, because if it wasn’t a lie, it was its next-door neighbor. “You’ll be in Tremontane then, remember?”

  The eagerness left his face. “I forgot,” he said. “But I’ll be King, so I could visit, right?”

  “Sure. Now say goodbye to the puppies, and we need to move on.”

  It was probably her imagination that Felix took her hand with less enthusiasm than he had earlier.

  They walked slowly around the oval, Willow scanning the crowds though she had no idea what Abakian Terjalesh looked like. Almost everyone they passed stared at her, whispering, women in their bright giorjaneshes and men in bloused trousers and embroidered vests. What were they thinking? That Serjian was a fool for buying private justice and then not exercising it? That Willow was arrogant in walking around in public, just as if nothing had happened? She returned their stares coolly, keeping her head high even though she wanted to hide. This was far worse than just being known as Felix’s guardian.

  Kerish came to an abrupt stop, jerking on Willow’s hand. “Did you see him?” she asked.

  “No.” His lips were barely moving. “But Mahnouki Adorinda is coming this way.”

  Willow looked around fast. There Adorinda was, with two of her harem sisters, her eyes fixed on Willow. Running and hiding was not an option. “Kerish, what do I do?”

  “Don’t let her rattle you. And remember who you are.” Kerish squeezed her hand, which comforted Willow a little. But only a little.

  Adorinda moved gracefully in the center of an empty space that surrounded her, a space that grew naturally as people nearby seemed to realize they had elsewhere to be. Her giorjanesh was pure black, embroidered with real gold that burned a tracery of fine lines beneath Willow’s skin. She smiled at Felix, a thin expression that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “You like our dogs, young King?” she said.

  “I have a sighthound. I want to enter him in the sheteshi next year.”

  “Felix is good with animals,” Willow said, feeling defensive. T
he gold didn’t help.

  “I would not think a King would have time for such things,” Adorinda said.

  “True. This time next year, Felix will be busy in Aurilien. But that doesn’t stop him thinking of what might be.”

  “Better he spend his time thinking of what is, do you think?” Adorinda transferred her thin, humorless smile to Willow.

  “If you never imagine things beyond your grasp, you’ll never achieve them, will you?” Adorinda had something in mind, but Willow had no idea what. She felt herself skidding along an icy lake once again, terrifyingly aware of the frozen depths beneath her and of just how thin that surface was.

  “You care for the boy, yes?”

  “I do.”

  “Then why are you cruel to him?”

  Here it came. “I beg your pardon?”

  Adorinda returned her attention to Felix. “Your Majesty will have no support from Eskandel,” she said. “We will not vote to support your question on the adjeni. Better you know this now and prepare to accept defeat.”

  “You’re very confident, Mahnouki Adorinda,” Willow said, overriding whatever Felix might have said in reply. “But I don’t think you can see the future.”

  “I need not see the future when I can read the present. A vote for Mahnouki, a vote for riches and prestige for Eskandel is.” Adorinda spoke more loudly now, pitching her voice to carry past the conversations going on quietly around them—not that there were many, since everyone close enough was watching their interaction. “The principalities of Eskandel sensible are.”

  The gold was a fine thread of burning pain just inches from her body. Willow breathed in deeply, willing herself to ignore it. “You’re right, Adorinda,” she said in the same loud voice, ignoring too the gasps coming from all around. Damn. She’d forgotten the polite way of addressing a harem member. Too late now. “Eskandel is sensible. Your principalities have governed this country well and sensibly for generations. Which is why the Mahnouki question is bound to fail.”