“It’s not looking likely, sister. Not looking likely at all.”
She sighs. “Have the healers told you anything they haven’t told me? Brother Michael seems capable but is also very tight-lipped.”
“I spoke with him earlier in the refectory. He feels that the other healers were correct in their appraisal that Llewellyn has merely suffered a bump on the head and could wake at any time. They seem as puzzled as we are that he hasn’t. There are no other injuries, although we’re investigating what might have stained his lips and his tongue.”
“Do they think he’s been poisoned?” Her hand flies to her mouth.
“If they do, they haven’t said so. The moment I hear anything I’ll share it with you and I hope you’ll do the same for me, dear sister.” David rises from the chair. “I don’t want to keep you from Llewellyn’s side any longer. May I walk back with you to see him?”
“Of course you may.”
The three of them walk from the office together, leaving Lindy alone. She gathers the cups onto the tray that she fetched earlier and then stands over the desk looking at the items which lie there.
Her brow furrows before she departs for the kitchens.
Chapter 7
“All right, what in all that’s bad has been going on now?” He looks at his lieutenants. “I can see that something is wrong. I’ve seen the messengers coming in and out, and I’ve also seen that nobody wants to tell me what’s happening.”
One of them laughs. “Observant as ever, Phineas.”
“You don’t get to be head protector here because you’re stupid.” He replies. “Now, out with it, or am I going to have to beat you with those reeds over there until I get an answer?”
“That doesn’t work any more, since I’m as tall as you nowadays.”
“I think you’ve been as tall as I am for about three centuries, but it hasn’t helped you to get to the point any quicker.”
“Getting to the point. Yes, that is what we’re trying to avoid and we shouldn’t be doing so.” Ulysses swallows. “The fact is, we have had reports of some disturbances among the humans and it seems they think that one of the Ravens is to blame.”
“And do we think they are correct?”
“We don’t know. As near as we can ascertain there was an attack, humans died, their prince is insensate and all their clues lead to the Piper.”
“Well, I know he can be abrupt at times, but killing humans and knocking princes unconscious has never been his forte.” The Lord protector observes. “Do we have any idea what this evidence might be?”
“Your cousin has sent some brief reports, since they’ve unwittingly included her in their meetings.”
“Of course, the joys of being invisible when everyone thinks your just a servant, isn’t it?” Phineas smiles. “That ploy has served us well for centuries.”
“Indeed. She reports that the evidence points to the Piper’s involvement, but that she’s contacted him and believes him to be innocent. He’s on his way here now.”
“Good. It wouldn’t sit well with the Queen if our friends started going rogue would it?” He purses his lips.
“Should we bring him straight to you when he arrives?”
“I think that would be best.” He pauses for a moment. “No heavy-handed stuff though, as far as we know he’s innocent, and we don’t want to find out what he’s really capable of if riled. I’ll talk with him and see where we stand.”
The three others stand and bow, as he leaves to ponder how much they should tell Her Majesty about this, or even if they should bother telling her at all.
He chuckles as he realises he’s now in the same position as his lieutenants were five minutes ago, except that his only superior is the Queen as he’s the last in the chain of command.
The man formerly known as William Gracie pulls back gently on the reins to halt his pony as he sees the two guards separate themselves from the trees up ahead. He dismounts and waits.
“Greetings.” He calls as they approach closer. “I believe you may be expecting me, chaps?”
The first of the guards comes close to him and places the palm of her hand on his chest. A flash of light springs from it and travels over the human’s shoulders.
“I say, steady on!” He steps back, laughing.
“We have to be sure.” The guard looks deeply into his eyes. “You never know what deceits might go on, especially when you’re dealing with ‘tricksy fairies’.”
He groans. “Look, I have apologised for that so many times now, Evelyn. I didn’t know any better. It was a long time ago. Do you think we can just let it drop?”
“I don’t know, why don’t we ask the others?” Evelyn turns to glance at the forest.
Four more Fae step from the trees, literally.
One moment only trees stand there, the next parts of the bark and branches separate and walk towards him.
“Oh please. Do we have to do this every time I come?” He turns to face the newcomers. “I know this is all a big joke to you, but it’s wearing very thin on my end.”
One of them replies. “Well, you should be more careful what you say then, shouldn’t you, dear prince?”
Piper laughs. “Oh dear. You just have to get one more jibe in, don’t you? I’ll say it again, slowly,” he spaces out his words, “I. Am. Sorry”.
“That’s good. We’re all happy. It should only take a few hundred more times before we let this drop.” Evelyn grins. “Come on, Phineas will be waiting for you.”
He groans again. “Just what I need.”
The head of the Order in the North is going about his duties in the temple when he notices it.
He shuffles to the relief carving of the Road to Calvary, his head bowed as if in prayer, and removes the small red ribbon from the soldier’s ankle at its rear.
Walking back down the aisle in the centre of the temple, he greets other members of the staff as he passes them, trying not to look too hurried, until he arrives in his own office where he closes and bars the door. Activating the hidden mechanism once more, he enters the secret meeting area where his contact already waits.
The man strides forward and kneels to kiss his ring. Acknowledging this he indicates the chairs at the end of the table where they both sit.
“You left the signal ribbon.” The Capo sits. “Now, tell me why you’re here.”
He listens carefully, asking questions to establish the reliability of the information and finally accepts that their unseen attacker may have been seen.
Realising he can’t do anything until the meeting later that day, he thanks his informant and returns to his study.
Much later that evening, once all the members of the order are seated in the meeting room, the Capo Borealis addresses them.
“We’ve hit a complication that may affect our plans, and we must discuss what the solution should be.”
He is met with rapt silence in the room.
“It appears there might have been a witness to the attack, or to the aftermath which, as I’m sure you are all aware, could compromise our whole operation.”
“You say ‘might’, Venerable Ordo, is there some doubt?”
“The only doubt is how much the witness saw, there’s no doubt that the witness exists.”
“I thought that it was impossible for our agent to be seen.” The Lady Elena slaps the table with her palm. “He is supposed to be this invisible and silent killer who cannot be detected by the eyes of mortal man. Are we to take it that he’s fallible after all?”
The soldier opposite her groans. “Is this the part where you say ‘I told you so’?”
“Not at all. I’m not that petty, but I did wonder if this plan could succeed because it was dependent upon having no witnesses.”
“Calm yourselves, my children.” The head of the order opens his arms palms outward. “As yet, there’s nothing to fear and our plans will go ahead as expected owing to the weight of evidence against the ‘fop’ and his supposed accomplices. O
ur task at this time is to decide what we should do about this witness.”
“Well, that at least is simple.” Elena replies. “We kill her. If she’s no longer alive then she can’t tell anyone else what she thinks she may have seen.”
“Do we have any details of her claims?” The soldier asks.
“I decided against bringing her in for interrogation at this time, but from the information one of our agents has heard, she is willing to state that there was only one attacker and that he behaved strangely at the crime scene and did things which didn’t make sense to her. However, to a trained mind, or a trained investigator, those things might make perfect sense.”
“Then why have we not just killed her?” Elena smiles at him.
“Really, you can be such a blunt instrument at times.” The soldier says.
“I’m simply practical.” Elena replies. “Threats need to be dealt with quickly and finally.”
“That’s my thought also, which is why I’ve invited our mysterious agent to attend the meeting.” He lifts his hand and signals to a guard at the far end of the corridor.
A slim, muscular figure, his face masked by a leather hood, enters the meeting.
The leader outlines the information they have acquired and awaits a reaction from the newcomer.
“As you’re well aware, venerable employer, I’m never seen because I can tell when I’m overlooked by another. If this girl claims to have seen me then I’d say that she’s not what she seems.”
“Are you certain that you can always tell when you’re being watched?” Elena asks.
“Absolutely certain. It’s my gift to know when the eyes of man are upon me, or woman for that matter. No one has ever watched me at my work unseen. I’m always able to leave before they know what they’re looking at.”
“These were the assurances you gave us when you accepted our contract but it seems now that we’ve hit a snag. Our Lioness here advocates killing the girl, whereas our Soldier doesn’t seem happy with that idea.”
The soldier rises and speaks. “Are we certain that anyone will listen to her? Might they not just take it as the babbling of a silly little girl? Extra risks are involved in disposing of her, and we don’t want to draw attention to our plans.”
“That’s a valid point. If we do nothing, what’s the worst that could happen?” A member further down the table asks.
“I am unhappy for her to be interrogated by those in the castle. There are already doubts in their minds owing to our choice of scapegoat. This might simply fuel more, resulting in the demise of our plans.” A man to his left states.
General nods of agreement pass around the table.
“So, it seems, what needs to be decided is the depth of our response.”
“You mean, how many do we need to kill?” The Lady Elena asks.
“Precisely.” The Capo Borealis agrees. “Do we kill the girl alone, or do we kill the girl and anyone who can reliably report upon what she saw?”
“You mean to kill her friends too?” The mysterious assassin enquires.
“I don’t think she’s confided that deeply in them, it could be put down to idle gossip. She’s discussed the matter with her parents who took her seriously enough to ask her not to speak to anyone else about it. I can only assume that one of her family investigated, at the time she reported it to them.” The order head purses his lips.
“We have details of her, and her family?” Elena asks.
“Not yet.” A figure at the other end of the table wearing a Phrygian cap responds. “I have two agents watching her and ensuring that she has no deep conversations with anyone else.”
“Am I to assume then, that you wish me to dispose of her, and her family?” The dark figure asks.
“Can we do so without being discovered?” The soldier asks.
“A good question, soldier. You often advocate caution when others,” the Capo looks at Lady Elena and smiles, “would rain down destruction upon our enemies, and possibly bring with it much undue attention.”
Elena laughs. “I am, as our dear Soldier has pointed out, a blunt instrument at times, but I agree with your appraisal. I can be direct.”
“I feel we need to dispose of the girl and her family utilising some tragic accidents so no suspicions are aroused. I realise it wasn’t part of your original contract,” he looks at the dark figure standing by the table, “but I’d appreciate it if you could assist us in cleaning up this mess which, you assured us, could not exist.”
“I’d very much like to meet this girl and discuss the matter with her, before her tragic demise takes place.” He smiles below the mask. “There will, of course, be no extra fee should this turn out to have been any misstep on my part.”
“I’m sure I speak for us all when I say that I look forward to your report after this is taken care of.” The Capo Borealis leans back in his chair and nods to the guards who escort the assassin from the room.
They watch him leave and notice that, even under the steady light of the lamps in the room, a flickering shroud of darkness surrounds the man.
It is difficult to keep their eyes on him.
A short time later, William is led into the presence of the Lord Protector of the Northern Fae.
He stares again with wonderment at the way the whole building is within the bole of a living tree, and at the pulsing veins of light that run through the wood.
“Sit down Piper, it seems we have much to discuss.” Phineas points to a chair that looks like it’s formed of living wood and rooted to the floor.
“Thank you. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you too much?” Piper settles down onto the warm seat.
“Unless you’re guilty of what we’ve heard, then you have not inconvenienced me at all.” He chuckles. “So, I’ve had some reports from our informants, I’d like to hear what you say.”
“Well, obviously I’d like to open with the fact that I had nothing to do with this. At the time the hue and cry was raised for me, and the guards came trying to hammer their way through my front door, I was lying in my bed with one hell of a hangover.”
“How interesting. I do so enjoy not getting those.” Phineas smiles.
“Yes, it’d be nice if those abilities were passed on to us mere mortals from time to time.”
“You’re unhappy with your gifts from the Dark Queen?” The Fae lord feigns surprise.
Piper laughs. “Not remotely, dear Phineas. It’s a wonderful gift, even though it’s had its drawbacks, and I wouldn’t be without it. That aside, being able to enjoy inebriation minus the resultant pain would just be a nice side effect that could maybe go with it?”
“Ah, but you know how us ‘tricksy fairies’ are, don’t you? We could just as easily make the headaches worse and tell you they would get better. We are notorious liars you know?”
“Not you too?” Piper responds. “Can we not let that drop? I keep asking, I keep apologising, you keep bringing it up.”
“Well, it does get a little dull around here at times. Baiting one’s pet human can be quite diverting, don’t you know, old bean?” Phineas’ accent sounds remarkably familiar.
“I say. Do you mock me, sir? Do you?” Piper laughs and leans back in the chair.
“I thought it was a pretty good impression of you, didn’t you?”
“When I’m playing the fop, perhaps. You do know it is an act, right?” He sighs. “If people think I’m a privileged idiot they tend to be less guarded in their speech around me. My business depends on information, as you’re only too well aware.”
“As does mine, dear Piper. Now, to get to the point, tell me what happened and why they think you’re involved.”
After listening to everything that Piper had to say, Phineas sits with a thoughtful look upon his face.
“So, assuming you didn’t do this, who did?”
“That’s what’s been puzzling me.” He replies. “My character is a sort of happy-go-lucky, hunting, hawking, drinking kind of chap. As far as I’m aware he
has no enemies. I’ve no idea why someone would carry out a serious attack like this and try to blame it on William Gracie.”
“You do realise,” Phineas chuckles, “you’re now talking about yourself in the third person. I’ve heard that is a sure sign of madness among humans.”
“You know exactly what I mean. I have to try to keep the different characters separate.” He leans back against the tree. “If I start thinking that they’re actually ‘me’, then I might get them all mixed up. It really is the only way to keep things working.”
“I understand that, but the fact remains that those seeking the attackers of this prince and his bodyguards are not seeking a character, they are seeking you.”
“And long may they seek, as you think it may be time I left anyway?” He shakes his head ruefully.
“You could just run off somewhere else and never go back.” Phineas opens his hands wide.
“Never is a terribly long time, dear Phineas. I expect I would only need to leave it forty or fifty years, and they’ll have forgotten all about me.” His face lights up with a smile. “I might even be able to get my house back, buying it off whoever owns it at that point, but the beautiful artworks will be harder to reacquire.”
“That’s not much of a plan.” Phineas shakes his head. “But since you’re not under my control, I cannot stop you.”
“True. My own choice, obviously, is to set things right — my way.” He shoves his left shoulder up against the warm wood. “You know what’s going to happen when I go back in there to help my friends and clear my name, don’t you?”
Phineas groans.
“I come to see you as a courtesy.” Piper raises his eyebrows. “You prefer me not to get into any trouble or draw attention to myself. How high can the pile of corpses get before it counts as drawing attention to myself?”
“So that’s our choice is it?” Phineas laughs. “We either persuade you to leave this mess behind and hope that everything works out, or we support you in going back to find out who did it, so you can cut your usual swathe of blood and vengeance across the land, accompanied by the requisite number of widows and orphans?”
The Wrong Scapegoat: A Mythic Fantasy Novel (Ravens of the Morrigan) Page 10