The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  Drake took the note and read aloud. “To Lord Drake and Lady Mellody Carstairs, I offer my deepest apologies for what I have done. I cannot repay the monies I withheld. They are gone along with everything else I have ever owned. I therefore give my life, and my wife has chosen to join me in my shame. Rachaun and Aliceanne Hunt.”

  The old man looked Drake in the eye as he said, “I was Lord Rachaun’s butler, the last of his servants. He asked me to perform this one last service, and I have done so. I will be moving in with my grandson now.”

  “He doesn’t say where the money went,” Mellody said, drawing his attention. “Do you know?”

  The man nodded. “Lord Rachaun gambled it away.”

  Mellody turned and buried her face in Drake’s shoulder, leaving him to deal with the bodies. “Who sees to burials here?” he asked, looking around.

  Another elderly man stepped forward and bowed. Drake gestured toward the bodies and asked, “How much to bury them?”

  The man looked startled as he replied, “For you, Lord Drake? Nothing. You’re the Lord of Carstairs. It’s my duty to you.”

  Drake shook his head. “You’ve a living to make as well. What would you normally charge?”

  The man looked nervous, then bowed deeply. “Lord Drake, a lord’s grave and marker is a gold crown. A commoner’s grave and marker is a silver crown.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Just a grave would be fifty coppers.”

  Drake nodded and pulled out his pouch without letting go of Mellody. He pulled out two gold crowns and handed them over, saying, “Give them burials befitting their rank. I know from unfortunate experience that gambling can be as all-consuming as drinking. He may not have been able to stop himself.” The man hesitantly took the coins, bowed deeply, then turned and hurried away.

  Drake led Mellody around the bodies and up the stairs. The door was not locked, and they entered the manor to find only a few of the furnishings left.

  “It looks like he sold most of his furniture as well,” Drake murmured.

  “Our furniture,” Mellody murmured. “The Mayor’s Residence and everything in it belongs to us. He even stole that.”

  Drake shook his head and muttered a spell. There was a sudden cloud of dust and other things hanging in the air, then a mysterious wind blew it out the open windows. Mellody gave him a sideways look and he grinned.

  “Just making it easier on our servants. Jean and Elwin will be setting this place to rights before we appoint a new mayor.”

  Mellody nodded as she walked around the manor’s lower floor. “I remember this place being filled with fine furniture and works of art. It was a residence befitting the highest of lords because we’ve had members of our family serving as mayor here. At one time, most of the mayors in our towns were at least cousins of one degree or another. But now there are few of them left. The plague killed so many, and others fled to avoid it.”

  “We’ll have to do something about that,” Drake murmured, “as soon as we appoint a mayor.”

  Drake led the way upstairs to the private rooms that were set aside for the mayor and his family. There was the same emptiness here as down below. Lighter patches on the floor told of missing furniture, and pale places on the walls told of missing paintings and tapestries.

  Drake looked around, searching with senses other than sight, but found little of interest. Several concealed cubby-holes were built into the walls, but only one held anything. Drake had to move a wardrobe to reach it, but it was still hard to discern even knowing it was there. His eyes glowed for an instant until he found the latch, then he popped the door open.

  Mellody crowded in beside him and asked, “What is it?”

  Drake pulled a handful of rolled parchments out and walked over to a table. Carefully unrolling one of them, he grunted. “Old news.”

  Mellody had snuggled under his arm again and nodded her agreement. “Look at that date,” she whispered. “That was two hundred and nine years ago.”

  Drake hummed as he read. It was a list of deeds for the area delineating the size of each property, water rights, and the owners’ names. He read the signature aloud. “By my hand and in the name of Lord Sawlan Carstairs, Lord Gerran Carstairs, Lord Mayor of Maiden’s Bridge.”

  Mellody nodded, then pointed at the other scrolls and said, “Unroll the rest.”

  All the scrolls except one were more of the same kind of valuable but outdated information. The last scroll was a journal that Lord Gerran had kept of the shadier events in Maiden’s Bridge.

  As Drake read the beginning of the scroll he muttered, “It would appear, dear heart, that Maiden’s Bridge is something of a misnomer.”

  Mellody actually giggled at his comment, and looked at him with wide eyes and a wider grin. “The history books say that two hundred years ago was a scandalous era, full of wild parties and unbridled sex.”

  Drake laughed. “As compared to now?”

  Mellody nodded. “Yes, compared to now. Probably half the women who gave birth in that era didn’t know who the real fathers were. The babies were generally claimed as sons or daughters of the mother unless the men were sure of them.”

  Drake was looking around as he replied, “That could cause some interesting inheritance problems,” so he didn’t see the tight expression that crossed her face.

  “Yes, it did,” Mellody murmured, causing him to turn toward her. “And a lot of problems among the lords. There were fights, real fight-to-the-death duels, over who was or wasn’t the true heir. We avoided those issues for the most part, but some of the southern lands had small wars over the succession.”

  Drake looked at her closely, disturbed by her tone. “What happened?”

  “It was on mom’s side. Her ever-so-great grandfather was the heir of Thorndike, though there was some doubt as to who his father really was. He ascended to the lord’s seat over the bodies of seven half-brothers and sisters. Thorndike has never really gotten past it, and neither have some of the other landed nobles, including Hawkinson.”

  “Your mother’s family?”

  “Yes. It’s really silly to dwell on it now. We’ve all intermarried for eight or more generations, but there is still a taint associated with some names.”

  Drake led Mellody to the other suites. Again and again they found evidence of missing furnishing. And Drake found secret cubbies in every suite. In what had been the Lord Mayor’s suite he grunted in surprise.

  “Now how do you like that?” he muttered as he walked over to the bed, staring at the floor near the wall.

  “What did you find?” Mellody asked as she walked to his side.

  Drake silently put his back against the ornate footboard of the bed and shoved it aside, then went to the head of the bed. Where the headboard’s leg had rested he carefully brushed the dust away with his fingers, then used his knife to pry up a series of boards.

  Mellody was impatiently crowding in over his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “Gold.”

  “What?!”

  Drake started lifting sail-cloth sacks out of the cubby-hole under the floorboards. Mellody bent over and grasped one sack, then grunted at the effort it took to place it on the bed. Drake started heaving them up onto the bed to save her the strain.

  There were seventeen bags in all. “How much is there?” Mellody asked.

  Drake shook his head. “I can’t tell. It doesn’t feel like all the sacks weigh the same. We’re going to have to count it.”

  Mellody nodded and carried one sack over to a table. Drake carried two more over and hefted them onto the table beside hers.

  “That’s enough, Drake. I don’t think this table will hold much more weight,” Mellody said in an absent-minded tone.

  Drake nodded and sat beside her. “Do we start counting, or get help?”

  Mellody thought for a moment then sighed. “We need Jean and Elwin, and probably a few—no, all of the maids. You said it earlier: we have to clean this place up for the new mayor.”

  Drake no
dded, then stood and leaned over to kiss her. “I’m going outside and send someone to fetch our servants. I’ll write a note and have someone take it to the inn.”

  Mellody nodded her agreement. “And I’ll start counting.”

  Drake went down to the mayor’s personal office and wrote a note summoning all his servants, then walked outside. He was relieved that the bodies were already gone. There were a handful of children playing on the grass in front of the manor, and he smiled when they all stopped to stare at him. Drake went down three steps, then sat down.

  “I need a runner to deliver a message for me. Who has the fastest feet?”

  Every child there started shouting, “I do! I do!”

  Drake laughed. “All right, you all get to go. Line up.” He pointed in front of him and soon had a line of six youngsters in front of him. “Hold out your right hands,” he commanded, and every child did. He placed a copper coin in each outstretched hand, and the message in the hand of the smallest girl.

  “All of you go to the Maiden’s Sorrow Inn and deliver this to Matron Jean or Valet Elwin. Ready, go!” All the children took off at a dead run, laughing and clutching their coins tightly. Drake chuckled as he went back upstairs.

  Mellody heard him and was looking at the door when he arrived. She spoke in a warm tone as she asked, “What did you do?” as she smiled.

  “I just sent a flock of children after Jean and the rest of our servants.”

  They both settled down and started counting. Mellody said, “These are really old coins, Drake. This one,” she held up a small coin, “dates back to the first kingdom, when Lady Vern led our ancestors to establish the kingdom and worship her as our only Goddess.”

  Drake was nodding his understanding. “This bag has five or six different size coins in it.”

  “We’re going to have to sort by size,” Mellody said as she sat back. “Can you tell anything about how long ago these coins were stashed?”

  Drake placed his hand on the unopened sack, but had to shake his head after a few moments. “The bag feels very old. Seven or eight hundred years. We’re going to have to look through them all and see what we can identify as far as what are the most recent coins. If I had to guess, though, I’d say they all predate some event that resulted in the unexpected death of a mayor.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Rachaun Hunt obviously didn’t know about them. Just looking at the floor, I doubt that bed has been moved in more than thirty years.”

  Mellody followed his gaze and nodded. “So this was some mayor or lord’s hidden treasure.”

  “And now it’s ours,” Drake said as he grinned at his wife.

  The arrival of the servants was heralded by the return of the children. Drake went to the window when he heard the children resume playing in the yard.

  Mellody went out to the interior balcony and spoke downward. “Jean, Elwin, come up here.” The sound of feet pounding up the stairs immediately followed her command, and she led them into the suite. “Close the door, Elwin.”

  Jeanette and Elwin had both come over to the table and stopped, and they were staring at the stacks of coins. Drake looked at them and nodded. “Someone had a hoard of gold stashed under the floor boards.”

  Elwin glanced at the bed and saw the rest of the stacks. His expression remained neutral except for a raised eyebrow as he looked back toward Drake.

  “Yes, a large hoard,” Drake said in agreement with his silent comment.

  “Jean,” Mellody said to draw her matron’s attention, “we need you and Elwin in here to help us sort and count, and we want the rest of the maids, and Luther as well, cleaning the residence top to bottom. Former Mayor Hunt was down to just one servant at the end, so there is a lot of cleaning to be done.”

  Jeannette looked around the room and an expression of distaste twisted her features. “Yes, Lady Mel. I’ll put the maids to work cleaning, and have that scamp start hauling water.”

  “Very well,” Mellody agreed. “Come back once everyone has a job. We’re going to be sorting and counting for most of the day.” Jeanette bowed and turned away.

  Drake said, “This table is too small,” as he looked around. His eyes stopped when he looked at the sacks on the bed again, and a small smile crossed his lips. “Let’s do it on the bed.”

  “Drake?” Mellody asked in a puzzled tone.

  “Each of us sit on a corner of the bed with a sack,” he explained. “We sort by size, then put like-sized coins together. Once we have them sorted, we can count each size coin and put them back in sacks.”

  Mellody and Elwin nodded and the coins on the table were quickly transferred to the bed. Drake and Mellody sat with their backs against the headboard, and Elwin sat against the footboard on Drake’s side. Jeannette joined them and sat on the final corner.

  The count did indeed take all day. Drake sent Luther and Xylina back to the inn for food and beer, but they only stopped counting for a few moments at a time.

  In the end, they had eleven hundred and seventy-one coins dating from the founding of the kingdom to a time three hundred and ninety-seven years in the past. At Mellody’s direction, Elwin went to the Lord Mayor’s office brought back a large book containing a listing of mayors dating back to the founding of the town, and she checked the date.

  “You were right, Drake,” she murmured as she read. “Three hundred and ninety-six years ago Lord Mayor Evanlan Carstairs died of a fever that killed his entire household and half the town. After a Mage had pronounced the city free of infection, Lord Mayor Chandar Carstairs was appointed to take his place. There is a nasty notation that Chandar couldn’t find the treasury, and he claimed Evanlan must have stolen it.”

  She closed the book and shook her head. “I still don’t know how they could have amassed that much gold.”

  “Your pardon, Lady Mel,” Elwin said from behind her, “but I remember an old history lesson. If I may?” At Mellody’s nod he continued. “During times of unrest many lords dispersed their treasuries so the loss of one town wouldn’t mean the loss of their entire fortune.”

  Mellody nodded. “Now that you mention it, I remember that as well. But this much in one town?”

  “There has to be a simple explanation,” Drake muttered. “The dates on the coins are spread out too evenly.”

  Mellody looked out the window and sighed. “It’s getting dark. Let’s put the gold back in the floor and worry about it tomorrow.”

  Drake waved Elwin over and they hid the gold, then they moved the bed back into its place. “Let’s go clean up and eat. This mystery will wait till the morning.”

  Back at the Maiden’s Sorrow they were approached by Lord Jarlath Agerwald and a tall young woman. “Lord Drake, Lady Mellody, this is my granddaughter, Racca.” The woman bowed, but her eyes stayed on Drake.

  Drake examined the girl carefully. She was dressed in an elegant gown, befitting a lady meeting her lord, but Drake could detect two knives secreted under her dress. He could also see that her arm, back, and breast muscles on her right side were well developed. He’d seen similar development on the more accomplished swordsmen in the royal guard.

  “Welcome, Lady Racca,” Mellody said, “won’t you join us?” She indicated a table with four chairs.

  Once everyone was seated, Mellody looked her in the eye and smiled. “I assume your grandfather told you why we want to see you.”

  “Yes, Lady Mellody,” Racca answered with a slight bow. “You want me to take over as Lady Sheriff for real, not just playing at it like I’ve been doing.”

  “Playing at it?” Drake asked, drawing her attention. “Please explain.”

  She took a deep breath, shook her head, and then began again. “When Lord Sheriff Cahris died, Mayor Hunt ordered me to continue enforcing the law, but he wouldn’t change my title. I remained a deputy doing the Sheriff’s job.”

  “You’re sheriff now, Racca,” Drake said in a soft tone, “and we’ll have the new mayor pay you for what you’ve done.”
>
  Racca bowed her head deeply as she said, “Thank you, Lord Drake.”

  Mellody looked at Drake and grinned, then turned to Racca. “The Sheriff’s residence is yours as well, Racca. Let us know if you need anything before we go. We’ll authorize anything within reason.”

  Racca’s eyes lost focus for a moment then refocused on Mellody. “Lady Mellody, the only thing I can think of offhand is a new mattress. Lord Cahris died on the old one and he wasn’t missed for three days.”

  “Absolutely,” Mellody said with a sharp nod. “What about his family?”

  Racca shrugged, as if struggling with something, so it was her grandfather who answered. “His wife left and took their children south to her family several years ago. Not to cast a shadow on the man’s reputation, but he did have an affair with another man’s wife. And he killed that man in a duel.”

  “What happened to her?” Mellody asked, leaning forward to put her elbows on the table.

  “She dumped him and took up with a different man,” Racca explained. “I think she only started sleeping with Cahris to get him to kill her husband. She moved in with Waldon the day after the funeral.”

  Mellody snarled, “Shastal.”

  Racca nodded. “She put Cahris in a bottle, and that bottle put him in his grave.”

  “Please explain what you mean,” Drake said softly.

  Racca studied the table as she said, “He drank himself to death, Lord Drake. He drowned in his own vomit because he was too drunk to roll over.”

  Drake nodded his understanding. “We’ll be around for a few more days, Lady Sheriff Racca. If you think of or see anything else that needs to be dealt with, let us know.” He stood and Jarlath and Racca stood with him. Both of them bowed, then Racca led her grandfather away.

  Drake let them go, then turned toward his wife and asked, “Shastal?”

  Mellody rolled her eyes and sighed. “They’re a particularly nasty breed of rat. The females mate indiscriminately, often sneaking off to mate with another male while two others are fighting over her. Like that woman.” She shook her head as Drake nodded.

  “We call them shastan up north,” he murmured. “Probably the same filthy breed.”