The Wrong Scapegoat: A Mythic Fantasy Novel (Ravens of the Morrigan)

by Cornelius Flynn

  “I don’t think many are in season at the moment, my lady.” John’s hand moves to his chin. “I know the Boar’s Head and I don’t recall seeing any desserts lately with fresh berries. It doesn’t normally cater to patrons that want fancy puddings.”

  “Well then, I’m as puzzled as you, dear captain.” She turns to her husband. “Although, I do have some good news. Your sister and I spoke to the abbot earlier at the temple, and he’s sent word to the Healing College in Aberffraw to fetch their very best to help our dear brother.”

  “Now, that’s good news!” David smiles. “The sooner they get him back on his feet, the sooner I can leave this office.”

  John laughs. “I’m sure we all wish for your brother’s speedy return to health, but you’re equally capable.”

  “You know I never wanted the job.” He sighs. “We simply must catch whoever did this.”

  “You mean Mister William Gracie, I take it?” John points to the items still sitting on the oak surface.

  “Are we certain it’s his brooch?” Elena asks as she and her husband both turn to look at the captain.

  “I’m certain, my lady. I was with the prince when he had the set ordered at the jewel smiths. It was a three-part set. I saw the original designs and the finished product.”

  He points to the open container on the desk. “That is definitely the one Prince Llewellyn presented to William last year.”

  “But that’s my point, captain, he was a friend to our prince and always such a gentleman.” Elena purses her lips.

  “That puzzles me too, my lady. I don’t understand it, but the evidence speaks for itself.” He lifts the item from the container. “How else would Llewellyn have had this in his clenched fist if William wasn’t present during the assault?”

  “Oh!” Lady Elena sits upright. “I almost forgot to ask. Did they find your brother’s signet ring?”

  “I didn’t think it was possible for it to fall off.” The captain taps his finger on the desk. “I remember him saying what a tight fit it was and that he was considering having it altered. Someone must have removed it deliberately.”

  “Why would they do that?” David points to his own. “These rings are unique to each family member and no use to anyone else. They simply show who sealed a document.”

  “One thought does occur to me, my lord” John bites his lip. “If this was an assassination, and they think it was successful, they might have taken it as proof of death.”

  “Oh, that’s too horrible to think about.” Elena’s hand flies to her mouth. “Pulling the ring of his finger to prove you killed him? What manner of man would do such a thing?”

  “I fear, my lady, one who’s being well paid.”

  In a dark and twisted forest grove a meeting is taking place.

  Deep within the Otherland, and known to few, an ideal location for plotting and intrigue. Only those known as ‘The Valiant’ can enter, who fought in the final battle against the encroaching human race centuries before.

  “I don’t intend to bore everyone with the details, but suffice it to say that our plan is underway.”

  “Does anyone suspect our involvement?”

  “None, yet. They think our agent is their agent. He plays his part well.”

  “Will it be enough?”

  “Their stupid ‘secret order’ thinks none know of their existence, which will be their downfall. They’re arrogant, self-assured and xenophobic. What can go wrong?”

  He chuckles. “I suppose, they sound a lot like us.”

  “You go too far. These cattle can never aspire to be like us.”

  “A valid point.” He smiles. “Nonetheless, we shall herd them to our purpose.”

  “But do so subtly. The Queen must not find out that we’re behind this. I’ve no desire to be banished in disgrace to a rotting swamp.”

  “We need to do little more now, my brother, since everything is already in place and their own greed for power will drive them forward.”

  “What of the innocents among our own who may be caught up in this?”

  “Do you plan to grow a conscience now? Our people have enough wit and power to avoid being caught up by the schemes of humans, and any who are caught aren’t worthy to be part of our race!”

  “Have you spoken with the council about where we stand on this matter?”

  “Naturally, I couldn’t be explicit with them about our plans, but I’ve sounded them out, and they remain Fae to the core. They’ll not stand for any abuse of our people or ways, and they rankle as we do since the council imposed this peace after the Great Wars. Many agreed only because it was the will of our Queen. Our aim must be to change her mind.”

  “Do we expect resistance?”

  “There will be some. Our spies have infiltrated, and we’ll be well-informed, and ready to deal with it.”

  “The poison cannot be traced back to us, I take it?”

  “No. Our agent received instructions on how to acquire it so we’ve not touched it, nor been near the place it originated. To all intents and purposes, he discovered it on his own at the request of their secret order.”

  “Dark times are ahead. I can only hope that this matter will once again unite the Children of Dana against these human vermin and start the war that will wipe them off the face of that fair country.”

  “It will be glorious, brother, as it was in days gone by when the host rode openly and our domain reached as far as the eye could see.”

  “I was going to ask William about all this, obviously, but then he absconded somehow. The strange way his house was built has put me on edge. It reeks of dishonesty.”

  The captain shuffles in his chair.

  “Since William appears to have slipped through your fingers, you’ll have looked for further evidence there?”

  David sips his wine, then holds the goblet out so Lindy can refill it.

  “That’s in hand, sire. I’ve stationed guards to make sure no one goes in or out in case he was hiding inside, but we carried out a thorough search.”

  “If this brooch was torn from his cloak, then shouldn’t his torn cloak be there too?” Elena asks.

  “I’d imagine, my lady, that he would take such evidence with him to avoid further implication.” The captain frowns. “Perhaps he didn’t realise until the guards arrived to arrest him this morning that he’d left anything at the scene.”

  Lady Elena nods and turns to her husband.

  “You seem pensive husband. Do you have something else on your mind?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have the head for this level of intrigue, my love.” David touches his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Wouldn’t this require a certain amount of planning?”

  “Precisely my thought, my love.” Elena replies. “Someone must know something about such an audacious attack.” She turns to face the captain, picking up her goblet and sipping it. “Don’t let your wine go cold, captain.”

  “I won’t.” He doesn’t reach for his cup. Instead, he turns to David. “Your lady wife makes a good point, sire. If planning took place perhaps the conspirators left other items that will help us catch them?”

  “Then it seems that a full search of his abode is required, does it not?” The prince looks up.

  His wife nods slowly, stifling the smile creeping across her lips.

  “With your leave I’ll gather some of the more intelligent members of the guard, loyal to your brother, and take them with me to see what we can find.” The captain drains his goblet and stands.

  “Please, do so, John. At least we might know one way or another whether William’s involved in this mess.”

  Lady Elena asks the serving girl to remove the goblets.

  She waits until they’ve been carried out of the office, and walks round to her husband behind the desk placing her hands gently on his shoulders and pushing him down into his chair.

  “I can see that you are vexed, dear David, but I’m here for you. Tell me what’s troubling you.”


  “I’m still struggling with the concept of William being a bloody murderer and having a gang of assassins at his beck and call.” David spreads his hands, palms downward on the warm, oak desk. “The man’s a gentleman. He’s well-spoken, genteel, knowledgeable and a patron of the arts. This just doesn’t sit well with me.”

  She rubs his shoulders, massaging the muscles that rise towards his neck.

  “Have no fear, sweet husband, should the evidence exonerate William, I’ll be the first to rejoice with you, but we must accept that, so far, things indicate otherwise.” She reaches up and gently rubs his temples, ruffling his hair. “If the captain should find damning items at the house of Mister Gracie, we must be ready to fully support the hunt for him and his co-conspirators.”

  She walks round the side of the chair, seating herself gently across his knees. Snaking her arm around the back of his neck to rest on his shoulder, she leans in and whispers into his ear.

  “You’re the Prince Regent now, and it’s your duty to think first of your brother and the principality. We can’t let our personal feelings interfere in these matters. We must be firm, my love. The people will be depending on us.”

  David reaches around and pulls her closer.

  “You’re right, as ever, my dear Elena. Duty must come first, but at least I have you with me.”

  “I’ll always be at your side. I assure you, you may tell me anything and I’ll think no less of you, my prince.”

  She kisses him on the forehead and strokes his hair pulling his head into her bosom as he sighs contentedly, unable to see the smile on her face.

  A few hours later, the captain and his trusted men have concluded their search.

  Even with careful investigation, tapping all the walls and seeking trapdoors in the lower floor, they’ve failed to find the secret exit from the house of William Gracie.

  “Are you sure we’ve tried everywhere?” The captain asks.

  “I’m certain. However he escaped from this place, it’s hidden so well that we can’t find it. I’m beginning to think magic was involved.” The lieutenant muses.

  The captain laughs. “Magic? That’s an interesting theory, but I don’t see it getting far in front of a court. What else do we have?”

  “Enough to hang him, I’d say.” The lieutenant indicates what the men found. “Especially, this little item.”

  He picks up a ring, attached a black ribbon, and hands it to the captain.

  “It’s as I feared.” His shoulders slump as he dangles it in a shaft of sunlight. “This was meant to prove the death of Llewellyn. I expect it was to be delivered to someone close by. Do we have any idea who that might be?”

  “There are many papers here which indicate the existence of some kind of underground sect following the old gods.” His lieutenant points to the stack of documents they’ve found. “We’ll not know in detail until someone at the archive has studied them and can tell us more.”

  The captain regards the pile of papers, symbols, and jewellery bearing the marks of the Elder Gods.

  “Bring it all with us. It’s time the privy council got involved.”

  Chapter 5

  It’s common, in a principality, to call the entry to a town a gate.

  When, however, it consists of little more than a cobbled road entering between a few buildings, and lacks walls, it doesn’t really feel that gate-like. The duty sergeant at the Southgate was reflecting on this fact when he saw them.

  “Corporal, call out the guard.” He shouts to the other men. “Crossbows at the ready. Send a runner to the castle and tell them we’ve got an armed force approaching.”

  The corporal stamps his feet against the cold and looks at the sergeant quizzically. “Sarge?”

  “Get on with it, man. This isn’t a drill. Look!”

  He points through the softly falling snow. A few hundred yards to the South they see a body of armed men, cloaked against the cold weather, approaching on sturdy warhorses.

  “We’re not expecting anyone, now move it while we try and hold them!”

  The corporal snatches the horn from his belt and gives it three short blasts, sprinting over to the guardhouse and practically kicking in the door in his rush to enter. He blows it again inside the house, then shouts rapidly to explain the situation to those within.

  Some had settled down for the night in their cots, whilst others are sipping hot wine and playing cards by the fire.

  All eight men rush outside.

  The young squire, whose duty that night is to maintain their fire and ale supply, is cuffed around the ear when he questions his orders, and sprints, his steps crunching in the fresh snow at the side of the road, towards the castle.

  Six of them take up defensive positions behind the low log barricades to either side of the entry point, their crossbows aimed at the approaching force.

  The remaining two join the four already at the gate, weapons drawn and shields at the ready.

  The captain is entering the stables, returning to the castle after the search of William’s house.

  He hears a sound like a signal horn in the distance, through the swirling snow, and makes his way to the main gate.

  Unlike the meagre defences at the town’s entrances, it’s actually fortified, well guarded and defensible, his sergeant is there in discussion with two others.

  “You heard it too, sir?” He asks as John approaches.

  “Yes, Joshua. Where did it sound like it came from?”

  “It’s hard to tell with the wind and the snow making things echo about, but my best guess would be the Southgate.” He indicates the men emerging behind him. “I’m turning out the gate guard just in case, but if it’s an attack we’ll need more than a dozen of us.”

  “Well, if nothing else it’ll be a good drill for the men. I’ll get everyone up and call in the reserves. If it’s a false alarm, they can all be back to their beds or homes inside the hour and nobody’s lost anything, have they?”

  He smiles grimly. “If, on the other hand, we do have trouble coming, then at least we’ll be ready for it.”

  He turns to the man at his side. “Sound the call to arms. I want everyone here now.”

  The corporal salutes and runs back into the guardroom. He pulls heavily on the rope and the booming sound of the alarm rings out over the town.

  The large bronze bell has pealed no more than eight or nine times when the sergeant sees a slim figure sprinting towards them through the snow.

  “Runner coming, captain!” He shouts, then turns to face his men who are taking up their positions around the gate and rushing up to the ramparts.

  “Looks like this one is not a drill, lads!”

  Carefully working his way back through the town, sticking to the same alleyways and passages he used earlier for his unexpected meeting with Lindy, William Gracie, arrives at the tavern where he left Apples in time to hear the call to arms sounding at the castle.

  He tenses, wondering if it’s him that they seek.

  Certain he wasn’t seen on his return journey, he can only hope that no one observed their meeting. If they did, she’d now be in custody and that would explain the alarm.

  The mount whuffs nervously, and he rubs between its ears without thinking about it.

  Standing in the shadows by the side of the Inn, he waits to see what route the guards will take and what kind of search they’re engaged in. He can hear the clattering of hooves down the cobbled streets and is surprised that they’re all heading in one direction. That makes his task simpler.

  Mounting the sturdy hill pony, he guides him towards the Westgate, where he arrives to see the guards more alert, and definitely curious.

  A peddler ahead of him is preparing to leave the town and asks the guards. “Any idea what’s happening? Is it an attack?”

  “Can’t see much from here,” the corporal responds, “seems to be trouble at the Southgate from the sound of it. We’d have got word if there was an attack. When they ring the bell like that, it�
��s just to call out all the troops.”

  “There’s nobody coming this way.” The sergeant shouts back to him from further up the road towards the castle where he’d gone to check for runners. “Carry on letting them through until we hear otherwise, just check for the obvious.”

  The corporal lifts the canvas on the peddlers cart and sees nothing out of the ordinary, then waves him through.

  William watches a trader’s party with two mounted bodyguards approaching the gate and tags onto the back of it. The corporal waves them through, as the merchant’s a regular.

  He finds himself outside, walking along behind the covered waggon in the wind and slowly drifting snow.

  The Marshal, at the head of the twin column of knights, reins in his steadily walking horse and holds his hand up in the air to signal them to a halt.

  “Why are we stopping, marshal?” The man to his right asks, his face buried deep within a furred hood.

  The commander points towards the sturdy log barricades to either side of the road by the edge of the town. “I don’t think they’re expecting us. Go back and tell the men to relax, no sudden moves. Don’t draw weapons. I’d prefer to eat some warm food for my supper rather than a crossbow bolt.”

  The young knight sees the bowmen and guards ranked against them and slowly turns his horse and walks back down the line quietly telling the others to relax, finally stopping by the wagon in the middle of their column and talking to the driver.

  The Marshal dismounts, and passes the reins to a squire, to continue on foot. He counts the guards ranged against them and although it may be a paltry force, he’s heard the signal horn and bell and more must be on the way. Extending his arms sideways to show he’s not drawing weapons, he slowly advances towards the small group.

  He is still twenty yards or so from them when a clatter of hooves sounds up ahead, and he can see a whole troop of mounted armed men approaching.

  “Hail the town!” He shouts. “We mean no harm. We thought we were expected.”

  The gate sergeant turns to meet the approaching cavalry. Seeing the captain at their head he’s relieved that this is no longer his responsibility.