by Alicia Wolfe
“It is well taken,” Calista said.
“This is outrageous!” Jereth said. “I will not be subject to any … confinement. I will not be imprisoned.” His pretence of laziness and arrogance melted away, and he was suddenly livid, one step away from shooting to his feet and drawing his sword, a beast at bay.
“Calm yourself,” said Lady Coolwater. “We are merely talking. You are protected by the truce. We cannot harm or detain you while the summit continues. If you are to be confined, it will only be because you will it to be so.”
“I will never consent to that.”
“Then it is possible you will never return. That is what we are here to decide, whether you should be allowed to return, and if so under what circumstances. Lord Stormguard has put forth a very reasonable suggestion, and I second his motion.”
“And I third it,” said Deepnight.
“I cannot condone this,” said Lord Feathermuse. “Lord Jereth’s crimes are treason, pure and simple. The punishment for treason is death. There can be no alternative.”
A ripple of unease ran throughout the gathering. Both of Mia Stoneheart’s lovers’ hands went toward the daggers at their waists.
Queen Calista raised a single eyebrow. “You propose to execute my son?”
“Not I, but a duly appointed executioner, yes. However.” Feathermuse considered. “I would be willing to offer a limited pardon to his followers.” He indicated Strongwall and Stoneheart. “If they subjected themselves to a period of a hundred years confinement each, and their vassals to fifty, I would move to allow them to return to our society.”
“Madness!” said Mia Stoneheart. “We will never!”
Jereth, having recovered from his earlier fit of anger, made placating gestures at her. Wearing a knowing smile, he said, “Lord Feathermuse merely seeks to gain leverage, Mia my dear. He seeks to establish an extreme position as a point to begin negotiations from—an old bargaining tactic of his. Have no fear.”
Feathermuse regarded the prince coldly. “Oh, I am bargaining, my prince, but not for what you think. I’m only bargaining on the wretched lives of your traitorous followers. As far as I’m concerned, yours is forfeit.”
Jereth sniffed. “Then that is hardly a deal I am likely to accept.”
Feathermuse pointed a finger at the grand door behind Jereth. “Then go. Take your people and flee. Go once more on the run, never to stop. Surrender, give your own life for their eventual freedom—it is the only way.”
Jereth blinked. Uncomfortable, he glanced from Mia to Von Strongwall, to see how they were taking this. Both their faces were clouded and unreadable, at least to me.
The nobles resumed talking, but no further progress was made. The food on the table had been forgotten.
After the dinner, my shift ended, and I had a brief meal with my fellow Fae Knights. It was still weird thinking of myself as one of them, since I wasn’t Fae, and I sure as hell wasn’t very knightly. But whatever, the food was good—grilled fish with a scrumptious cream sauce, grilled potatoes and salad with spinach, raisins and walnuts. All excellent. The Fae sure knew how to live. Even their soldiers ate well.
Done with dinner, I went looking for Davril. Now that Lord Gleamstone was taking over managing the security of the summit, I knew that he would be setting up shop as one of the principals of this whole affair. We’d scoped his bungalow out earlier today, so I knew just where it was and went straight for it.
Fireflies and hovering glow-globes lit the night, and the whole forest-garden smelled of honeysuckle at the moment. Actually, I saw that some of the glow-globes hung from the trees like fruit—luminous, magical fruit. I wondered if they were edible but didn’t try them.
I came across Davril and some of his entourage crossing a plaza on the way to the bungalow. They looked like they’d just broken off from a larger group. When he saw me, he smiled and brought his group to a stop. My heart fluttered at the smile, though it was fleeting. It was as if his natural response to seeing me was to smile, but then he would remember what I’d done and quit. Sigh.
“Out for a stroll?” he said.
“I guess. Just wanted to check in. Not like I had anything better to do.”
He nodded and set off once more, and I fell in beside him, as did his two cousins and the four Fae Knights that were guarding his group. One of them was my friend Jessela, and we smiled at each other, but I knew she wouldn’t break protocol by hugging me, so I didn’t try. I hadn’t seen much of her lately and I was eager to catch up, though. Our schedules had been conflicting.
“Quite a dinner,” I told Davril, wishing I had something better to talk about.
“That it was. For a moment there I thought we were going to come to blows.”
If only. Smirking, I said, “Yeah. Prince Jereth looked pretty ticked off there. Hey, that was some idea you had. About confinement. I guess you had a change of heart?”
“No, it was just the logical thing. What I said was true. They tried to overthrow the Queen. For that they must atone. I’m willing to be lenient, to a point, but justice must be served.”
“Makes sense to me.” I flashed a look at Jessela, but she wore her professional soldier look, pretending not to hear. “But do you really think the prince would allow himself to be locked up? I’m skeptical.”
“He will if he wants to truly make peace. You don’t get to attempt a coup and get away without so much as a slap on the wrist. Personally, I hope it’s more than a slap. A hundred years behind bars might do for starters.”
“He’ll never go for that, though. He’ll—”
A scream cut night.
Davril and I glanced at each other, then dashed through the trees, going off the path, toward the sound. His two cousins and the four Fae Knights followed close behind.
We burst out into a clearing to find two figures standing over something on the ground. A body.
The blood, I thought. Dear God, the blood. There was so much of it …
Lord Therin Strongwall, the heir to the currently defunct Strongwall Throne, son of Von Strongwall, lay sprawled across the ground, his throat slit and his belly sliced down the middle, spilling out his blood and guts upon the green grass of the clearing.
One of the figures knelt over him, tears in her eyes—his mother, Lady Strongwall. It was she who had screamed, and shock and grief were etched into her features. Beside her stood a Fae Knight, one of Jereth’s renegade knights, in green armor. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword and as we drew close he wheeled toward us, drawing it.
“Hold!” he said.
“Put that away,” said Davril.
The knight saw who it was, nodded and shoved the weapon away.
Davril crouched over the body, too, and placed a hand on the forehead of the deceased young man. Well, I say young, but who knows with Fae. He could have been hundreds of years old for all I knew.
“Dead,” he said.
I could have told him that. Then again, Fae were tough and could sometimes survive devastating injuries.
To Lady Riva Strongwall, Davril said, “I am most sorry.”
She barely seemed to register the words. Her gaze stayed rooted on her son.
I shrugged off my jacket and laid it across his evisceration. It wasn’t something that anyone should have to see, let alone his mother.
“Who did it?” said Jessela, speaking for the first time since I’d come upon her and Davril. She addressed the question not to the grief-stricken mother but to the renegade Fae Knight. Perhaps they had even known each other before the so-called civil war.
“I saw nothing,” he said. “We were walking to Her Ladyship’s bungalow when we heard a noise. A cry of pain. We rushed to it. I think I saw a shape in the darkness, but no details. I’m not even sure I saw anything.” He shook his head.
“What direction did the shape go?” I said.
He pointed north. “That way. If it was anything at all.”
“Let’s go find it,” Davril said, fury in his v
oice. The dead man may have been on the opposite side of him in the fighting, but it was clear that the murder did not sit well with Davril Stormguard.
“No,” said Jessela, and her voice was firm.
“No?”
She shook her head, serious. “It’s my duty to safeguard you, my lord. I must get you to your bungalow and lock it down. There’s a killer on the loose, and it’s just murdered a lord. Might it not go after another?”
“I’ll go after it,” I said.
Davril started to nod, then said, “No. What if it’s dangerous?”
“I kill it?”
“If you go after it, no one alerts the guard in time. No, go to Lord Gleamstone at once. Rouse the whole guard and have them sweep the area from top to bottom.”
I nodded. “I’m off.”
So it was. Jessela ushered Davril back to his quarters while I alerted the entirety of the Fae Knights stationed on the flying resort. Going back on the clock, I assisted them in combing the grounds as thoroughly as we could. But the killer had left no trace.
A runner arrived and drew me aside. I recognized his regal livery and knew him for one of Queen Calista’s courtiers. “Her Majesty wishes to see you,” he said.
“Uh, sure. Just let me freshen up.” It had been a long time and I knew I wasn’t at my best.
“No time. She wants to see you immediately.”
I swore inwardly but obeyed, leaving my fellow knights and going straight to the Big House. Colder winds, not completely restrained by the magical shields, gusted across the grounds, making the hedges and trees rustle and sway, and all around me was the cracking and creaking of wood and the howling of wind. A shudder coursed down my back.
I found Queen Calista in the large room she was currently using as a throne room or visiting room. There was no throne, but she did sit in a big chair with two guards at the back of the room. To my surprise, Davril stood before her, giving his report. They both turned at my arrival.
“I’m glad you could make it before him,” Calista said.
“But Davril’s already here,” I said, coming to a stop at Davril’s side. “By the way, why are you here? Didn’t Jessela make a big deal about getting you to safety?”
“She did, and when I was safe I made arrangements to come here,” he said. “Jess is officially off the hook.”
“I don’t get it. I got the impression she was in charge of your security.”
“As a king, yes, but as a knight …”
“Now I really don’t get it.”
Calista offered a small smile. “Davril refuses to sit on the sidelines, to use an Earth expression. He wants in on the investigation. And as his partner, he requested your presence so that we can present a united front when Jereth arrives.”
Ah. That was whom she meant by “he”. As I tried to sort things out, Lord Greenleaf entered, wearing a grim expression. “He’s here, Your Majesty.”
Calista visibly steeled herself. “Show him in.”
Moments later Prince Jereth stormed into the temporary throne room, a look of wrath on his face. “What is the meaning of this, Mother?” He fairly snarled the words, and his normally placid face had gone red. In a rage, he stalked close to the throne, only stopping when Davril placed a hand to the hilt of his sword. “Still have your attack dog, I see. Was it him that did it?”
Calista’s eyes narrowed. “You will show respect or you will leave.”
Jereth opened his mouth to snarl something else, then paused. His eyes went from Davril to the guards, then me, then back to Calista. More civilly, he said, “One of my chief supporters was just slain, under your watch, under the flag of truce.”
“Do not blame this on Her Majesty,” Davril said.
“No? Then who else? You?”
Davril’s jaw bulged. “Does it not interest you that Therin was not with his father or mother, that he was away from his own guards—your own knights? What was he about, alone at that hour, at a time of tension?”
“Are you saying he was complicit in his own death? That he deserved it?” Jereth looked ready to launch himself on Davril.
I cleared my throat, drawing his attention. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jereth. Davril’s only speaking the truth.”
“That’s Prince Jereth,” he said.
“If you wish to be treated like a prince, then act like it,” his mother said.
Jereth swept his long blond hair back with a quick brush of his hands. Some of the locks had grown sweaty and fallen across his face, very unusual for the normally composed and icy Jereth. “If you had no hand in this, Mother, then the murderer must be found immediately,” he said.
“We’re working on it,” Calista said. “Lord Stormguard is my chief investigator, and he has decided to oversee the matter personally. Have no fear.”
“‘Fear’? I? It’s you that should know fear, Mother.”
“Are you threatening the Queen?” Davril said.
“I don’t have to. I have only to withhold what I know, and doom will come for you all soon enough.”
“You’re talking about Nevos, aren’t you?” I said.
“He will see to you all, if I don’t.” He collected himself, then drew himself up and gave a more typically cold, arrogant address: “Find the murderer, Mother. Give him to me. You have until tomorrow night at this time.”
“And if we can’t solve the case by then?” I said, worried that I knew the answer.
“Then I leave you to your fate.”
With that, Jereth swept from the room and was gone.
Chapter Six
“What a prick,” I said. I glanced at the Queen and felt my cheeks burn. “I mean, er …”
She smiled, but the gesture was strained. “It’s all right. Yes, indeed, my son can be … difficult.” She stroked her chin. “He’s not wrong to be upset, though. Like he said, one of his most powerful supporters, and an old friend of his, too, was just slain, and hideously. I would be up in arms, too.”
“And if someone is going after people on the prince’s side, others could be at risk, too,” Davril said.
“Exactly. His whole faction could have targets on their backs. For all he knows, they’ve walked into a trap and we’re springing it.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Davril’s right. Therin was alone for a reason. He was meeting someone for some reason he didn’t want anyone else to know about, and either they killed him or someone else did because of that meeting. Or … or something else altogether.” I threw up my hands. “Who knows? But it wasn’t us that killed him, I know that much.” I studied Davril, then the Queen, as an awful thought struck me. “Right?”
Calista didn’t look amused. “No, Jade, you are quite correct. It wasn’t us. But it could have been one of my people acting independently, carrying out some old grudge.”
“We can’t know,” Davril said. “But we will find out.” To me, he said, “What intelligence do we have so far? I know you’ve been deeply involved in the hunt and will know who was where and when.”
I nodded and went through what I knew, including what we knew of the cause of death. “Liara and some of her Sisters in the Order of Elshe came with Davril’s House, and they’re inspecting the body,” I said. The Order of Elshe were healers, but they were also experts in magical wounds and Fae anatomy, and I had no doubt they would be able to determine a cause of death.
“Hopefully they’ll give us something we can use,” Davril agreed. “They came with me, but I know that they went with the body—Therin—and are now at the barracks, Your Majesty.”
I continued my report, detailing the whereabouts and activities of the principals of the summit and their hangers on.
When I was done, Davril was nodding slowly. “It sounds like we don’t have exact locations on several of these, as the only people that could corroborate the principals’ locations belonged in their entourage, and we can’t exactly trust their in-circle.”
“No indeed,” Calista said. She sounded tired, and sh
e looked even tireder.
“Why don’t we let Her Majesty get some sleep?” I suggested. “We can hash this out somewhere else.”
“A good idea,” Davril said.
Calista shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“Both of you, get some sleep. You will need it. I want you both up bright and early, though, and interviewing witnesses.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep with the fate of all Fae hanging over my head,” I said. But even as I said it I could feel the fatigue settling into my bones. It was about three in the morning, and I’d been up since dawn and had experienced a pretty strenuous day. I did need sleep if I was going to be at my peak, and the Queen needed me at my peak.
Davril seemed to sense the wisdom in this, too. He bowed to the Queen. “We will report in as soon as there is something to report.”
He and I returned to the barracks, making our way through the nighttime grounds. No knights escorted us, and when I asked him about it he shrugged.
“I’ve been in danger many times since you’ve known me, Jade. How many escorts did I have then?”
“One.” I tapped my chest. “Me.”
“Very true. And the best escort I could have.”
“Thanks. But … well, you weren’t a king at a summit of kings before. You could be a target now, too. Jess is right.”
“Or the killer could have only been after Therin, or he or she or it could only be after people on the side of the rebels.”
“If, if and a double helping of if,” I said.
He actually smiled. “True. But we’ll find out the truth soon enough.”
“A murder investigation, then?”
“Yes. To head off a threat graver than any we could want to face.”
