“Is his brother aware of this?” The abbot pours water from a jug into his simple wooden cup.
“It was his brother who appraised me of the situation.” The marshal responds. “He has a capable staff, militia and informants to maintain stability, but if the attack is coming from within, what can he do?”
“We could provide our own aid, couldn’t we?” The scribe places a map on top of his other papers.
“What did you have in mind, Brother Solomon?” The abbot’s brow is furrowed.
“If it’s true that agents of the other states are followers of the old ways, then it’s unlikely that we’ll find them among our own believers. We should take note of those we know to already be regular attenders at our services. With the marshal’s help we could assemble a list of those who can be trusted.”
“That idea has merit.” The abbot responds. “At least then we could know we weren’t dealing with the enemy agents.”
“I think it’s fair to assume that they will be followers of the old ways. Since it’s no secret that these materials were found in the house of the conspirator, couldn’t we announce to our own faithful that those who support the old ways may be involved in the plot against the prince?” The marshal’s face is one of concern. “With warning, they’d be able to safeguard themselves from further attacks and possibly note any suspicious behaviour on the part of their neighbours?”
“We’ve always tried to coexist with all beliefs.” The abbot addresses the marshal. “I wouldn’t wish to see others persecuted simply because they don’t follow the same road to glory as us.”
“But, Lord Abbot, if the conspirators are still within the town, shouldn’t we do all that we can to aid those loyal to the prince in discovering them? Surely, this is what he would want us to do, to safeguard the lives of himself and his dear wife?”
“I agree with the Lord Marshal. We should watch over our own flock and ensure that they are not used by these foreign agents unwittingly. We must warn them of the danger.” The scribe points to his map.
The abbot looks thoughtful. “Very well, we shall put it to a vote. Please remember, that none of our discussions about the prince’s financial support must leave this room. That aside, how many of us feel that our members should be informed of the danger posed by these followers of the old ways and their agents?”
He looks around the table and sees every hand is raised.
“Then, I believe our God has spoken. I’ll present teachings to those worshipping in our temple at each service to ensure they know the truth.” The abbot stands and is followed by all the others as they leave the meeting room to go about their duties.
The marshal smiles. Soon the Order’s plan would bear fruit.
“Are you sure?” Gwen leans closer to Lindy.
“I’m certain. I heard one of them discussing her. I sent my friends out to check, and they found her name for me, where she works and where she lives. The story is sketchy at best. I’m sorry, but I really do think we need to talk to her.”
“I agree. Any witness to what really happened might help us track down those responsible for the attack. I’m sure it goes deeper, Lindy. Please, be careful.”
“I’m always careful. Remember, I’m a poor kitchen maid who’s on the prince’s personal staff and, therefore, invisible.” She laughs.
“Just make sure your invisibility doesn’t wear off, dear girl. Don’t get overconfident.”
“I never have, Gwen. I’ve been here seven years now and this is the first unusual thing that’s happened. I could say that it relieves the boredom, but that might be in bad taste considering the circumstances. I’m glad William took my advice and came to you.”
Gwen snorts. “Indeed. It seems certain that someone’s trying to frame our Piper. Any idea yet who that might be?”
“Not yet. There have been various strange goings-on.” She rests her mouth against her hand for a second. “Something is niggling at me, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Could it be a family feud? Maybe David got tired of being the youngest?”
Lindy giggles.
“Oh, dear Gwen. If only you knew him. You should see how miserable he is behind that big desk with everyone reporting to him. I swear, if it wasn’t for Elena he’d have refused the job!”
Gwen steps forward and hugs Lindy.
“Take care, little sister. You know where to find us.”
Slipping from shadow to shadow, the dark figure follows the girl as she leaves her home and moves through the streets carrying a bucket.
It’s likely that she’ll be going to the well to gather water for her parents. He watches from a distance as it’s too busy at the moment to approach her directly.
Taking in the ebb and flow of the workers and the shoppers, the customers and the labourers, he feels their life essences as they pass him. He needs to find somewhere she’ll be alone to determine how she might have seen him without his awareness.
The details he’s heard from his informant make him certain that she had done so, but that shouldn’t be possible. He always knows when another looks at him and can blend into the shadows. How could this girl have watched him for so long?
He has to find out, before he deals with her.
Piper is savouring the taste of his meal of mutton and vegetable pie, allowing the warm juices to circulate in his mouth before swallowing slowly when a shadow nearby blots out the light.
He opens his eyes in time to see a pointed dagger snake out in a dark, ebony hand, spear a large chunk of mutton and withdraw, popping it into the owners mouth.
“Hey. Stick to your own food.” He says, placing his arm around the left side of his plate. “And use a fork like civilised people.”
The woman laughs at him and swallows. “I’m hungry and I can see from the blissful expression on your face that it’s good. What did you expect me to do?”
“I think I covered that.” He points to the bar. “Order your own.”
She reaches out and ruffles his hair. “Poor Piper. Doesn’t like to share?”
“There is no sharing with you, Reyhan. If I let you near it, you’ll eat the whole thing.” He looks her up and down. “How on earth do you stay so slim and eat like that?”
“We all have our burdens to bear, Cadwallader, saviour of the land.” Her mouth splits open in a smile, revealing bright white teeth. “Since we’re using given names today it seems.”
He sighs. “That was a long time ago.”
“As was mine.” She replies. “Now I have to eat all the time.”
“That’s not true in here, Lightning, and you know it.” He prods her below the ribs. “This place is Otherland. In here, with you, it’s just habit.”
She grabs his finger with incredible speed twisting his arm and pushing his shoulder down onto the table, taking his head with it. “Fortunately,” she responds, “everything else still works as normal.”
He laughs. “Fine, you’re still just as fast. Now let me go so I can finish my dinner. I’ve had a long day.”
Releasing him, she steals another piece of mutton in the process, popping the steaming meat into her mouth and licking up the gravy that drips on her chin.
“I’m guessing it’s your mess we’re here to clean up,” she pauses, “… again?”
Piper sits back in his chair. “The Black Prince was not ‘my mess’. I look after the family. That’s why I’m here.”
“Well, you’re the one who chose to be the ‘Once and Future Prince’.” she chuckles, eyeing his plate again. “Deal with it.”
He sighs and shakes his head ruefully. “This day just keeps getting better.”
The pair sit at the table now, eating and comparing notes on what is apparently a rather excellent mutton pie, swigging ale to wash the flaky pastry from their mouths at regular intervals, when they both stop and look up.
“The floorboards don’t usually creak in here.” Piper says.
“It seems that they do now.” Lightning listen
s. “I’m guessing that the final member of our party has arrived.”
They both turn in time to see a door in the wall fading to become panelled boards once more as a huge figure walks towards the bar, stooping slightly to avoid bumping his head on the oak beams that line the ceiling.
“Filippo!” She pushes her plate forwards and gets out from behind the table to run across the room and throw herself at the giant.
A huge booming laugh escapes him. He scoops her up with one arm and hugs her to his chest, kissing the top of her head.
“Bellisima!”
She thumps him on the shoulder. “Not so rough, you big lummox. You’ll squash me.”
He laughs again and releases her unexpectedly. She can’t quite get her feet underneath herself in time and drops onto the floor in a seated position.
“Ouch.” She shakes her fist at him. “If my bottom’s bruised there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Mi scusi.” He leans down holding out a huge hand to help her off the floor. She reaches up, her arm dwarfed in his fist as he tries to gently raise her to her feet.
“I’m guessing it’s a full moon outside?”
He stands upright, straightening his back and banging his head on the ceiling. “What gave you that idea?” He asks, chuckling.
“I’ve no idea where you’re going to sit.” She points at all the normal, human-sized chairs inside the establishment.
“That won’t be a problem.” He ducks and moves over to the table where Piper sits. Pulling out one of the seats to the side of it, he slowly lowers himself towards the chair, his huge mass shrinking gradually until his body fits it perfectly.
“You know the rules are different here.” He grins, turning to face the smiling Piper. “Long time no see.”
Piper reaches out and the two of them clasp hands as though they are about to arm wrestle, then slap each other on the shoulder.
“Too long, Filippo. Do you think this will be all of us?”
The newcomer indicates their small group. “You, Lightning, me and good steel should be able to handle anything, shouldn’t we? Let’s face it, if another one turns up then we know we are really deep in the merda.”
Piper sighs heavily. “It already feels that way.”
“So, do we begin?” Filippo tries to scratch his missing finger.
“Does that do any good?” Piper points where Filippo’s ring finger should be.
“No. It still feels like it’s there and it itches sometimes.”
Just then, Gwen arrives with a tray.
She puts three fresh tankards of ale, and one of water, on the table in the side booth they occupy. Winking at them as she collects their empty plates and vessels.
They sit and stare at the extra tankard.
Lightning swallows and nudges Piper. “Did you order an extra?”
He shakes his head as she turns to look at their companion.
“Don’t look at me, I don’t drink that stuff.”
“This isn’t good.” He shakes his head. “Not good at all. When was the last time we had four?”
“I never have.” Lightning replies.
“Never?” Filippo reaches out for his water, adjusting the angle the handle sits at.
“Never.” She replies. “I thought three was bad enough.”
Piper nods.
“Three is usually pretty bad. I’ve had a lot where there have only been the two of us, and Gwen, to sort things out. When I saw we were getting three I figured things weren’t as simple as I thought.”
Their conversation is interrupted by a blast of arctic wind and snow that sweeps across from the right-hand side of the room through a previously non-existent stable door.
A slight figure seems to be swept in ahead of the wind, drops into a forward roll and rises to its feet, shaking its cloak with gloved hands as the doorway vanishes in the same way as those before it.
Piper furrows his brow, then grins as he calls: “Wildcat?”
The new arrival turns to face them, flicks her cloak back behind her left arm and bows deeply sweeping her right arm towards the floor.
“A votre service.” Her French accent deep and throaty.
Piper shakes his head. “Oh dear, she’s speaking gobbledygook again.”
Wildcat laughs. “Just because you never leave this godforsaken damp, smelly country any more. Some of us like to travel further afield and experience the world.”
“That’s as may be.” He replies. “But there’s no need to get all high-and-mighty ideas and start talking funny now is there?” He points to the table. “Your ale’s getting warm.”
“It had better be warm already, the way I’m feeling. It was freezing in those mountains.”
“Mountains? Where on earth were you?” Lightning watches the snow melting on her cloak.
“Why, my dear Lightning, I was being serenaded by one of the greatest minstrels known to mankind in the Pyrenees.” She smiles. “Such bone structure. Such rippling muscles,” she pauses, looking wistful, “and very well equipped.”
Lightning’s dark complexion deepens further in a blush. “Honestly, Wildcat, you’re incorrigible.”
“I don’t think that was the word he used. I’m pretty sure he said insatiable.” She saunters across the room and takes the fourth seat at the table. “So, I’m guessing this is really serious. Do we know what’s going on yet?”
Removing her gloves she admires her pale skin.
Lightning reaches across, taking the new arrival’s cold hand in hers and rubbing to warm them. The contrast is startling next to the darkness of her own fingers.
Wildcat grins and smiles at her, nodding towards her hands and bringing her other across to clasp them. “Been working on your tan, dear?”
Laughing, she pulls Wildcat in tightly for a hug.
“How I’ve missed you.”
Sometime later, after they have been joined by Gwen, and Piper has explained, as best he can, the events concerning the prince and the framing of William Gracie, they discuss how to proceed.
“Are you sure it wasn’t William that did it after all?” Wildcat asks.
“Of course I’m sure.” He replies. “I think I’d remember murdering four men, knocking one unconscious, stealing his ring and all the other things that went on.”
“Well, I thought it best to check just in case one of your other personalities had taken over while you were asleep something.”
“It doesn’t work like that. They are not separate personalities. It’s not like I’m possessed or something, I just choose to keep my characters separate, in their own little boxes.”
“It’s certain that it wasn’t William.” Gwen says, pulling a handkerchief from up her sleeve and blowing her nose. “I am sure I’ve caught a chill coming to fetch you, Wildcat.”
The girl laughs. “It was much worse yesterday. We were completely snowed in. Had to spend the whole day in bed.”
The tip of her wet, pink tongue darts out across her lips.
“That part was heavenly.”
“Bit wobbly when he got up this morning was he?” Filippo asks.
She punches him on the shoulder. “I don’t wear them out that much. It’s just recreational you know.” She turns to face Gwen. “So what do we know?”
“Well, it seems that the Tavern knows more than we do. I really wasn’t expecting a fourth until I was sent. There’s something deep and nasty going on here. It’s our job to find out what that is and, as usual, to fix it.”
“Do you think maybe the prince’s brother has organised all this? You know, so he gets the power?”
“No, Filippo I don’t think so. I know both very well. He has no aspirations of that type. He’s artistic, creative and unambitious.” Piper sips his ale. “He was perfectly happy to continue collecting beautiful things – a passion we shared I might add.”
“Why didn’t they kill him?” Lightning’s dark face scowls. “Why just knock him out? What do they gain by that?”
“T
hat’s been puzzling me too.” He puts his tankard back on the table.
“I don’t understand enough about the laws of inheritance and the ruling of states to make a guess at that one. Perhaps finding out the answer to that might help us identify who’s behind this?”
Gwen reaches out and places her hand on top of his. “I’ll ask our contacts in the town to look into that. We’ll get to the truth.”
“I was really hoping it was just some kind of mess that I could walk away from, old girl.” He responds.
Filippo chuckles. “Typical Piper. Leave it for somebody else to clean up.”
“I just wanted a quiet life. Was that too much to ask?”
Lightning snorts. “You should have thought about that hundreds of years ago when you chased that white stag.”
“Incisive as ever, my sweet. You are of course correct, but it has been fun. Nobody could say that our lives are boring, could they?”
Grunts and laughs of assent are heard around the table.
“Is it possible they meant to kill one of his bodyguards, rather than the prince, which is why they knocked him unconscious? Perhaps we’re looking at the wrong crime?” Lighting asks.
Gwen raises an eyebrow and circles the table with her finger, indicating the size of their group. “Really?”
“I take your point.” She frowns. “Well, who else gains by the prince being incapacitated, other than his brother?”
“Maybe his wife?” Gwen offers. “Or how about those One God religion people?”
“In general they seem to be quite peaceful and ineffective, at least from what I’ve seen of them.” Filippo says, scratching his beard. “They just turn up in their temples, say prayers, burn candles, light incense and so forth.”
“From what Phineas told me, someone planted things at my house to make it look like I was a follower of the old religions.” Piper looks thoughtful.
“But, you actually are a follower of the old religions. It’s hardly incriminating is it?”
“Well, there must be some reason why they’d go to those lengths. Also, who planted it?”
Leaning back in his chair, he rests his hands on the table. “I’m pretty sure the castle guard weren’t about to let any monks from the temple wander around inside my house while they were still looking for me.”
The Wrong Scapegoat: A Mythic Fantasy Novel (Ravens of the Morrigan) Page 12