Keeping an eye out for Siris—to no avail, unfortunately—he hurried back up to the fourth floor, paused briefly to offer Molli some fruit, then entered Neco’s chambers. He found Aya and the prince waiting for him, already seated at the dining table and looking anxious.
“Everything all right?” Aharon asked, moving to begin unpacking the food.
“We were beginning to worry,” Aya said. “It’s not exactly safe for you out there, either.”
Rather than debate the issue, Aharon changed the subject by telling them what he’d discovered. Keeping a careful watch on Neco while revealing the circumstances of Nevis’s death, he felt confident the man’s surprise was genuine.
Now slowly chewing on a spoonful of melon, Neco shook his head. “The variables have become few. If neither you nor Aya killed Nevis, then Padus or Tosis has to be responsible.”
“Or Siris,” Aharon added.
“But how could any of them have gotten past Nevis’s knights?” Aya fretted, nibbling on a fig.
“If we can figure that out, we’ll probably know which one of them did it,” Aharon answered.
Neco was quiet a moment, then spoke while glancing from one to the other. “Only two remain. You need to finish this tonight.”
Aharon had already drawn this conclusion, but how he might execute these murders without getting himself killed he didn’t yet know. Thankfully, he still had most of the day to plan.
“Tosis definitely makes for the easier target,” he said now. “Separating Padus from his knights will prove a much weightier challenge.”
Aya threw him a look. “If you and I confront his knights together, we’ll stand a fair chance of making it through them.”
He frowned back at her. “I thought you said you couldn’t do this again.”
“That was before Seta and Ioni were murdered.”
“We don’t know for certain that Padus was responsible.”
She shrugged. “There stands a halfway chance of it, which will have to be enough.”
Aharon fell quiet and took a few bites of his breakfast. Reinforced by Aya’s Magic, he agreed they’d at least have a chance of making it to Padus, although the circumstances would place Aya in an incredible amount of danger. Much to his frustration, however, he couldn’t think of another option.
“We’ll talk it through,” he finally said, “and see if we can’t fashion a sensible plan.”
She nodded back at him. “I just want this over.”
“We all do,” he said.
“What of Siris?” Neco then asked. “In light of Seret and Heni’s deaths, he’s going to know you didn’t use the tunnels to go after my father. And he’ll further realize that you’re coming for Tosis and Padus next.”
“Siris is a problem,” Aharon agreed, “and I’d very much like to speak with him.”
“I’d prefer you just kill him,” Neco replied.
“Turning him to our cause would be a lot more useful,” Aharon said. “Unfortunately, you’ve treated him so horribly that I’m not sure this is possible, but if I can somehow convince him, you’ll have to honor any agreement I make.”
Neco frowned. “Would that include keeping him on as jester?”
“I can’t imagine what else would sway him,” Aharon said.
The prince looked disgusted. “He’s a loathsome creature.”
“Perhaps, but if you can stomach knowing that the cost of your crown was ten dead siblings, I’m sure you can tolerate Siris Pabst as your jester.”
Neco’s eyebrows flickered. “Harsh, Aharon.”
“He’s right,” Aya spoke up. “We’re doing what we must to keep you safe, Neco. It’s time you made some concessions, and put in a similar effort.”
The prince looked from one to the other. “As if I’ve ever won an argument once the two of you banded together against me. Fine, then. If you can turn the jester’s loyalty—something I deem unlikely—I’ll vow to honor whatever promises you make.” He paused to then display a grimace. “But I’d much rather you just kill him.”
Aharon sat back in his chair and exhaled a long breath. “It’s probably all for naught anyway. I can’t even find him, much less corner him into a conversation.”
“Why don’t you leave a note for him in the tunnels?” Aya suggested. “Ask him to meet you somewhere there’s plenty of people, so he won’t feel threatened.”
“Given current matters, I’m not sure anyone would even care if I murdered him in plain sight,” Aharon said. “Although, it’s not a bad idea and it certainly won’t hurt to try. It’s possible he’ll surprise me and turn up.”
“Or he’ll ambush and kill you,” Neco said.
Aharon shook his head. “Siris is relying on me to kill your father. For that reason alone, he won’t eliminate me unless I threaten him outright.”
“I think you’re making a lot of assumptions,” the prince told him in reply.
“Perhaps,” Aharon agreed.
Still, he would follow Aya’s suggestion, and bring a note to the tunnels after breakfast. Afterward, some reconnaissance was in order, followed by an afternoon of strategizing. And hopefully by tomorrow’s dawn, this would all be over.
Chapter 10
After leaving his note for Siris, Aharon exited the tunnels and started for Prince Nevis’s quarters. Hoping to discover how someone might have slipped in and gotten past his highness’s private guard, he wasn’t surprised to discover much activity at the site, as well as across the corridor in Seret’s chambers. Having no desire to revisit the scene where he’d carried out murder the night before, he continued toward Nevis’s apartment and stepped through the open doorway.
There were several knights within, and none looked particularly pleased to see him. Presuming these were men of Nevis’s private guard, the reason for their animosity was clear; chances were, they suspected Aharon of committing the prince’s murder, and weren’t impressed with his temerity in returning to the scene of the crime. Still, they evidently remained wary of their captain’s threat, for his presence elicited many intense glares but no overt action.
Doing his best to ignore the hostility, he continued toward the bedchamber and entered the room somewhat cautiously, uncertain of what he might find. Glancing about, he discovered several more figures inside, along with Nevis’s corpse.
The prince was lying in his bed, on his back and atop sheets that were saturated with blood. The slit across his throat was deep and long, nearly stretching from ear to ear, while surrounding the bed stood four green-robed Healers, all holding to a silken shroud. Aharon assumed they now aimed to wrap the body, and transport it below to the royal crypt.
Also present was a familiar face, one belonging to a man who served on the royal council alongside his father. Masid Nane was the commander of Justice, and someone Aharon had known, peripherally at least, for most of his life. While having little interaction over the years, they’d shared each other’s company during countless functions and occasions.
Commander Nane was a burly man in his fifties, his hair and beard silver and his medallions Justice and Commerce. Standing over by the window, his expression turned wry as he spotted Aharon.
Aharon sent him a nod in return. “Commander,” he said.
“You’ve some nerve,” the man replied.
He shook his head. “I didn’t do this.”
“Most of those knights seem to think differently. You’d best thank your father, or they probably would’ve gutted you the moment you set foot in here.”
Aharon had no intention of thanking his father for anything, but this was hardly something he felt inclined to discuss with the commander.
“The knights can think whatever they please,” he said instead, “but I had nothing to do with Prince Nevis’s death.”
Whether the other man believed him or not was impossible to tell, but the commander responded in a conversational tone.
“I’m curious what brought you around, then,” he said.
“I was hopin
g to learn how the culprit gained access,” Aharon told him.
“Why?”
“To prevent the maneuver from being replicated with Neco or Aya.”
Commander Nane looked mildly surprised by the straightforward response. “I see,” he replied.
“Why are you here?” Aharon went on. “To the best of my understanding, Justice wasn’t to involve itself in this matter.”
“I’m here to dispense my expertise, not pursue Justice,” the man informed him. “The knights asked me to look around and try to determine the assailment’s point of access. As it stands, they’re all blaming themselves for failing in their duty.”
“Have you found the answer?” Aharon asked.
Commander Nane nodded while turning to the window, which lay open. “All eight men of the prince’s private guard remained within the apartment throughout the night,” he explained, “but none entered his bedchamber. This makes the window the only possible entranceway, although whoever made the climb must either possess no fear of death, or was blessed by the very luck of the Patrons. It’s a miracle they didn’t fall.”
Aharon moved to window and gave an outward glance in either direction. It appeared the commander was right; the only possible explanation was that the perpetrator had climbed either upward or downward from one of the nearby terraces, then basically slithered his or her way along the two-inch wide ledge to the prince’s window. As a professional thief and proficient climber, Aharon didn’t think he would’ve made it, nor would he have been anxious to try. As Commander Nane stated, this person either had no fear of death or was lucky beyond reason.
Or, they were just exceedingly nimble.
Repressing a frown, Aharon turned back into the room, now utterly convinced Siris was the guilty party. Evidently, the jester wasn’t so afraid of getting his hands dirty, even if this involved slitting a prince’s throat while he slept.
The commander was watching him. “Simply for curiosity’s sake,” he then asked, “would you deem yourself capable of performing such a climb?”
Aharon shot another glance out the window before answering. “Honestly, I doubt it,” he said.
Commander Nane nodded. “I suppose we both know where that leaves us.”
After holding the man’s gaze a moment, Aharon spoke again. “And might you be looking to do something about that?” he questioned.
The commander offered him a thin smile. “His majesty commanded me to remain clear of this affair, so I’ll be offering the knights my conclusion on how the perpetrator entered, and nothing more.”
Aharon nodded. Chances were, the knights would then make the leap to Siris themselves, although this probably wouldn’t absolve their suspicions of his own involvement. Regardless, he apparently had little cause to fear, while the jester had every reason; in all likelihood, Nevis’s knights would aim to butcher him. Uncertain whether or not he should care, Aharon gave the commander a nod and turned to leave.
“Wait,” the man said.
Pausing, he looked back. “Yes?”
Commander Nane took a step closer. “Did you know there’s presently a criminal in Malat who shares not only your likeness, but also your Birth dominion?”
Aharon nodded. “Fajen,” he said. “Yes, I’ve seen the sketches.”
“He’s proven to be quite the pebble in my shoe, and keeps evading my troopers as they’ve a habit of mistaking him for you.”
Aharon found this humorous. “Your men are idiots,” he said, “and I wish Fajen a successful escape.”
The commander’s smile widened. “Sorry to disappoint you, but word just reached me a short while ago. Flynn Fajen has been captured, and currently resides in our custody.”
Aharon frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Well, I plan on gaining Fajen’s confession upon arriving at headquarters, but it still seemed prudent to inform you that he’s now been apprehended.”
Falling silent, Aharon didn’t speak for a long moment. “Are you implying that I’m actually responsible for some of his crimes?” he finally returned, somewhat disbelievingly.
“I’m not implying anything,” the other man answered. “However, I imagine we can both rest easier now the guilty party’s been jailed, and by knowing no further mischief will occur.”
Aharon gave him an incredulous stare. “You honestly think I’ve had time to go about robbing money-houses? To say nothing of the fact that I don’t actually need the money?”
Commander Nane shrugged. “What’s important is that these crimes have now met their conclusion.”
Rather than reply, Aharon turned and walked away with a shake of his head. And to think, there were those who didn’t understand his contempt for organized Justice.
Leaving the dead prince’s rooms—and again ignoring the many hateful stares he received from the knights on his way out—he headed back down to the third floor and toward the corridor housing the private quarters of Princess Tosis.
Eighteen years old, and only sixteen when he’d left for the west, the only time Aharon had spent with this princess was during the private lessons they’d shared, where she’d failed to leave him with a flattering impression. While intelligent, she was also spoiled and self-indulgent, and viciously condescending to anyone who didn’t share her royal blood. Whether she was responsible for murdering any of her siblings Aharon couldn’t answer, but the revelation certainly wouldn’t surprise him. He also couldn’t yet say if it was she or Padus who was receiving Siris’s support, but either way, he hoped to end the jester’s cause tonight.
As a female, Tosis lacked a private guard, but like her sisters she retained the services of three handmaidens. Whether any of these women possessed defensive skills remained unknown, but after hearing of Aya and Molli’s exploits within Heni’s chambers, he’d obviously be wise to entertain the possibility.
Technically, Tosis had no reason to fear any of her remaining siblings; only Padus was younger than she, but male, so she wasn’t of any consequence to him. Alternatively, she needed all living siblings to die in order to gain the crown, thus making her a threat to all those still alive. This was the reason Aharon had come, and why he now began slinking about the corridors near her apartment.
Maintaining a subtle vigilance on the area for the next couple of hours, he finally started away without ever becoming certain Tosis was even inside her rooms. He’d observed no one coming or leaving, nor had he heard a sound from within while making multiple passes by the door. If the princess was inside, she seemed to be taking pains to draw no attention to herself.
Aharon approached Padus’s quarters with considerably more caution, and drew no closer than the nearest intersection of corridors. Leery of the prince’s knights—men who probably wouldn’t kill him, but likely still beat him senseless—he was unsurprised to spot three such men positioned just outside Padus’s door. Little question the remaining five were inside with the prince, and in light of last night’s carnage, Aharon presumed Padus was now following Neco’s example and not venturing from his chambers.
Nevis was planning to shoot him today, he then reminded himself. If he’s the heir Siris is supporting, it would make sense that the jester intervened to eliminate the threat.
Still, this implied Siris would’ve been aware of Nevis’s intentions, which was possible but not a surety. And without this surety, both Tosis and Padus remained dire threats.
After making several rounds of the nearby corridors but learning nothing, Aharon grew frustrated and started down to the outer courtyard. An area that constantly bustled with activity during the daytime hours, this was where his note had asked Siris to meet him, although the hour he’d suggested remained some time away. With no way to know if the jester would even find his note, much less follow his request, he settled down on a bench and resigned himself to a long wait.
To pass the time, he revisited the days’ observations and concocted various strategies for tonight’s attacks. He wasn’t too concerned about Tosis—w
ithout a guard, he didn’t expect her to prove much of a problem, even if her handmaidens did interfere on her behalf. But Padus was another matter, and Aharon was worried that he’d have no choice but to follow Aya’s suggestion. Aided by her Magic, it was possible they could overcome eight knights, but the risk was high and he’d very much prefer to find another way. Hopefully, Aya had contrived an alternative plan in his absence.
Some time later, Aharon caught sight of his brother Turo making his knightly rounds through the courtyard. Having spoken only once since his return, Aharon had received the impression that his brother was trying to keep himself distanced from all current dramas, and rejecting any involvement in the royal murders. Given Aharon’s own position in the affair, Turo’s perfunctory greeting hadn’t come as a surprise, although truthfully they’d not been close in years. Too similar to their father in many ways, Aharon had little care for this brother.
Zaun was different matter though, and as he and Turo now exchanged a curt nod while the knight passed by, Aharon was forced to stifle another stab of guilt. Once this was over, he promised himself, he’d do whatever was necessary to make up for his current neglect, and ensure Zaun received all the attention he was missing.
Remaining seated on the bench, the hour he’d asked Siris to meet him came and went. Even so, he lingered, and hoped that the jester was merely playing games and might still appear. After another hour passed, Aharon’s patience reached its limit and he finally rose to his feet, thinking he now had to return to the shore and collect supper. By this time, Aya and Neco were probably starting to worry about him.
He made it a few steps before a voice spoke out behind him.
“Leaving, Aharon? A pity, given your obvious desperation to speak with me.”
Schooling his expression, he turned and beheld the jester standing approximately ten paces back. Adorned in his usual satin attire, the man held aloft the note Aharon had left in the tunnels, and wore a smile that positively begged to be struck.
Stifling the urge to follow through, Aharon spoke. “Desperate?” he repeated. “Hardly. I merely sought to ask you a question.”
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