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

by Cornelius Flynn

  Gwen is standing, looking at the point where the doorway used to be, through which the old man had vanished, her mouth half open and her eyebrows moving to a frown.

  “Gwen!”

  She turns back to the table, regaining control of her face in the process. “Sorry, what?”

  “Do we know anyone who can read old Macedonian?” He points at the papers once more.

  “It’s a dead language. That’s all I know about it.” She looks back at the plain wall again. “Where did you meet him?”

  “The druid?” Lightning asks returning to the table. “He turned up at the old farmhouse after we got Melissa’s family out of the town.”

  “And they knew him?”

  “Yes. They had a name for him, in the old tongue. At least I think it started out that way, but it must have been corrupted over the years.” Her brow furrows for a moment. “Originally it probably meant ‘Lord of the Forests’.”

  Gwen frowns. “I’ll have to take this up with the Council. This has never happened before.”

  “Maybe he’s just some old Fae that you don’t know about?” Wildcat suggests.

  “No.” Gwen replies. “He wasn’t Fae. He was something else entirely.”

  “So, strange old codgers aside, my dear. Our next job then is to find someone who understands old Macedonian?” Piper sits back, groaning.

  “Our next job,” she reaches out to grab his arm, “is getting you back into bed for another day. You’re not ready to be up yet and you’re slowing your healing by sitting out here. Get up, back to bed and lie down. Whatever plot is being hatched, it won’t be finished by tomorrow.”

  Chapter 15

  “Oh, what can it be this time?” Prince David sits in his chambers, with his wife, attempting to enjoy his breakfast as the rapping at the door is repeated. “I can’t even eat my eggs in peace.”

  “Be strong, my love. For better or for worse, you’re their prince now and you have responsibilities. I know it’s not easy, but I’ll always be here to support you.”

  “That’s why I love you. I couldn’t do this without you, Elena.”

  “We owe it to our people to see that they are well cared for. We’ve had a good life together, my prince, but now the state needs us, and it needs us to be strong.”

  Rising, she walks behind him, wrapping her arms around and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

  “I shall go see what they want.” She nuzzles his neck. “You finish your eggs.”

  He smiles and lays his hand on her arm, twisting round to return her kiss.

  She leaves him and opens the door quietly, closing it after she has passed through, to find Lindy waiting.

  The girl curtsies quickly. “I’m sorry to disturb you at breakfast,my lady, but there’s been trouble at the temple and the abbot, with his staff, are in the entrance hall requesting to see the prince.”

  “Indeed. Do we know what kind of trouble?” Elena’s eyebrows lower.

  “They seem quite upset, my lady.” The servant girl shuffles her feet. “I heard someone mention something about a robbery.”

  “Tell them we’ll be down shortly. Have the captain find a suitable meeting room and arrange refreshments please.”

  “Right away, my lady.” Lindy curtsies once more and rushes off to carry out her instructions.

  Arriving at his office, David is surprised to find the captain and the Spymaster waiting there for him alone.

  “I thought we were meeting the abbot?” He looks around.

  “Yes, your grace. Unfortunately he’s brought several of his staff with him. There isn’t room in here for everyone, but he insists they must all attend the meeting. Your wife sent word that we were to accommodate them somewhere and provide refreshments, which we’ve done.”

  “Do we know what all the fuss is about yet?” He turns to face the Spymaster. “Mister Bracken?”

  “I’m sure they will inform us in excruciating detail about their concerns, sire, as is common with all those from the temple in my experience. My informants tell me there was activity there last night, and away from it, with the temple guards rushing around looking for someone.”

  The prince nods. “Well, I suppose we’d better go see what they want. I’m guessing that my wife went on ahead, since she doesn’t seem to be here with us.”

  The captain opens the office door and the three of them walk together along the polished stone floors until they reach a large antechamber normally reserved for strategy meetings.

  He nods to the prince and opens the door, stepping inside and holding it wide. “His Grace, Prince David, ruler of Upper Gwynedd.”

  The others rise and wait as the prince enters. He takes his seat at the head of the table, gratified to see his wife sitting at his left hand. He looks at the steaming pots of wine on the table, accompanied by various biscuits and breads and licks his lips.

  “I take it there’s a good reason for insisting on a meeting at such an hour, my Lord Abbot?” The prince catches Lindy’s eye.

  “Indeed, your grace.” He rises to his feet. “It seems we have a thief in the town willing to desecrate our Holy temple.”

  Lindy appears at David’s side and curtsies before pouring him a cup of mulled wine, with a spoon of honey, just the way he likes it. He smiles and thanks her before responding to the abbot.

  “So what did they steal?”

  “That’s the strange thing, your grace. Most of the precious items seem to remain, although a few small silver ornaments are missing. They were ransacking our offices, which contain only records and ledgers related to the running of the temple. In fact, my own journal was stolen and I can’t see how anyone would profit from that.”

  The healer indicates that he wishes to speak, waiting for the abbot’s permission before rising and bowing to the prince.

  “Various other papers were taken also, your grace. Many of them related to our knowledge of herbs and healing, some of which directly concern your brother.”

  “Concern him in what way?” The prince slides his hand across the table to his left, clasping that of his wife.

  “There were notes we’d made about his care, and research we’d been carrying out to try to determine what poison might be affecting him.”

  “Why would anyone want those?” David’s face wears a look of puzzlement. “Surely those responsible know what they poisoned him with.”

  Brother Michael continues. “It’s possible that they hope to slow our research by stealing the materials we were accumulating. I don’t think that will be successful though since we have excellent memories and can probably recreate the notes.”

  “Was there anything important in them?”

  “Just detailed reports on your dear brother’s condition and our efforts to awaken him. There was also a list of all the remedies which we’ve tried so far, and which have failed.”

  The marshal raises his hand to attract everyone’s attention. “Might I speak?”

  The prince checks the healer is finished, then nods to the marshal.

  “Please, do so.”

  “I’m not sure that we should read too much into this, but the fact that all the materials targeted in the robbery are to do with the way our healers are caring for your grace’s brother, this must be related to the attack.”

  “That seems fairly logical.” David looks around at his wife and his associates, who are all nodding thoughtfully.

  “That being the case,” the marshal continues, “then we must assume that this plot is linked to the prince’s connection with the temple and, as we suggested last week, being organised by those who owe allegiance to neither.”

  “You are suggesting that the evidence points to outsiders who might benefit from this mess, I take it?” Elena asks.

  “Exactly that, my lady.” The marshal replies. “No one loyal to the prince or to the Temple of the Saviour would perpetrate these deeds.”

  “Did you get a look at this thief?” David sips from his cup, savouring the warm, spicy wine.


  “Unfortunately not, your grace. We wouldn’t have known at all but for the fact that they clumsily tripped an alarm we’d set up. A simple mechanism, designed to make a noise should someone enter the room without first disabling it.” He indicates the abbot and monks. “I think it’s safe to say that those from the temple would know about it and wouldn’t have triggered it.”

  The Spymaster nods. “You must explain the workings of it to me sometime. Good security is an interest of mine. That type of device would be quite useful.”

  “I’m sure once we have more time we can go into the details of it, Mister Bracken.” The marshal pauses. “I was about to ask, since we’re combining our resources in this matter, if your own informants have heard anything about last night’s activities.”

  “With your permission, your grace?” The Spymaster turns to the prince.

  “Please, continue. This is all new to me.”

  Elena squeezes his hand and smiles reassuringly as Charles Bracken makes his report.

  “A group of strangers have been sighted around town. They appear to be working together. Three, possibly four of them according to reports. I’ve had men out looking for them, but we can’t find where they’re hiding.”

  “You’re certain they’re hiding?” The abbot asks.

  “Indeed, Lord Abbot, for they’re not in any accommodation within the town, yet they’ve been seen walking abroad within it. The guards on all the gates have been extra vigilant and none of them have seen these strangers pass by.”

  “You think they’re possibly part of the gang that attacked my brother?” David reaches for a biscuit.

  “It seems likely, sire. As I’m sure you will recall, when Mister Gracie vanished from your prison cell I said that he must have had aid in his escape.”

  “I also recall, Mister Bracken, that you suggested the aid he had was demonic and that he had somehow walked through the walls.” Dipping the biscuit in his wine, he pops it into his mouth before it softens too much and drops into the cup.

  The Spymaster smiles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “Do you still feel that way?” The abbot asks.

  “I find it hard to think otherwise.” Charles Bracken stretches his back. “He didn’t leave through the courtyard and there’s no other way out of those cellars. They’re designed to keep people in, and out. With the evidence we have against him and the timing of the appearance of the strangers, it seems they must be related.”

  “Do you think it was this Mister Gracie who broke into my temple?” The abbot shuffles in his chair, tucking his arms into his sleeves.

  “I think that’s unlikely, if not impossible. As I’m sure the guard captain here can tell you, Mister Gracie was in no fit state to sneak anywhere or steal anything. He was badly beaten during his capture.”

  “He did put up quite a resistance.” The marshal interjects. “Four of my men were injured during his capture. I’m sure you can understand why their brethren might have been so zealous in the performance of their own duties.”

  The abbot shakes his head. “We’ve already discussed this, marshal, and it will not happen again. I trust you disciplined them as I requested?”

  “I did, my Lord Abbot. They allowed their emotions to get the better of them, but I have corrected them.”

  “Good.” The abbot says and then turns to Lindy. “Could I trouble you for another one of those nice shortbread biscuits?”

  She smiles, curtsies and goes to fetch them from the table at the end of the room.

  “We don’t get sweet biscuits like these in the temple, forgive me if I overindulge.” He watches her fetch the tray.

  Prince David laughs. “Please, go ahead my Lord Abbot, I’ll send some over in a basket later. I’m sure we have plenty, the harvest was good last year, I’m told, and there’s no shortage of flour.”

  “If I might speak, your grace?” John Yovvan asks.

  “Please, captain, go ahead.”

  “If one or another of these strangers infiltrated the temple without being seen, ransacked their offices and escaped with their notes and journals, again without being seen, should we not consider increasing the guard around your brother in case one of them should come back in to finish the job?”

  “I am sure that we could, but would it do any good if these attackers really are capable of walking through walls and moving around unseen?” David puts his cup down and looks around at the others.

  The healer attracts the attention of the prince who nods for him to speak.

  “I’m not sure that I ascribe to this idea that we’re dealing with otherworldly beings. It seems to me that otherworldly beings wouldn’t have set the alarm off.”

  The marshal nods. “I enquired of all the guards this morning and two of them did recall a disturbance in the night. They put it down to the activities of a cat. That could just as easily have been a clumsy thief knocking something over.”

  “And do you know how they entered the building?” Charles Bracken leans to one side to allow Lindy to put a plate of biscuits near the abbot.

  “During our search we discovered signs that they had come from the roof. It would appear that they scaled the building which would place them nearer to the offices they wished to rob.” The marshal spreads his hands. “We had no guards on the roof because we thought it unassailable.”

  “I would say, until this matter is settled, that you can never have too many guards.” The abbot takes another biscuit. “I feel like my home has been violated.”

  “I understand exactly what you mean, my Lord Abbot.” The Lady Elena attracts Lindy’s attention, pointing to her husband’s empty cup. “To have strangers poking around through your things and stealing them.” She shudders. “How horrid.”

  The prince clasps her hand more tightly in his and reaches across to stroke it with his other.

  “But, it’s nothing compared to what evil has been done to your dear brother, my lady.” The abbot turns to address the prince. “I don’t understand what this plot might be but I’m certain it’s all connected. I know there have been tensions between our two parties over the mistreatment of Mister Gracie, but I’m hoping we can put that behind us and really work together, your grace. We must ensure that your brother is restored to good health and these evil conspirators brought to justice.”

  Once the meeting has ended, the Lady Elena offers to see the temple members out of the castle.

  She embraces her husband who sits and ponders the new information. He indicates to John Yovvan and his spymaster that they should join him at the table while Lindy busies herself with collecting the cups, and empty biscuit plates.

  Once again the invisibility of being a staff member works to her advantage, and she’s able to observe the whole discourse between the three men.

  “So, Mister Bracken, what do you think of this information? If there’s anything I’ve learnt in my time here with my brother, and through the lessons given by our father, it’s that nothing is ever as it truly seems.”

  The Spymaster smiles. “He taught you both well. That’s the way of the world, sire. In my experience very few honest men exist. Even those who act altruistically often have a need within themselves which is satisfied by their actions, and thereby they act selfishly without meaning to do so.”

  “I still don’t trust them.” The captain says.

  “I understand your trepidation, John.” The Spymaster looks thoughtful. “Even though their arguments seem logical and the evidence backs them up, I’m not certain it’s the only story that explains what is happening.”

  “Story?” The prince asks. “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that, if you take any particular set of facts and place them into a certain order, they tell that story.”

  He moves some biscuits into a new pattern as he talks.

  “If you rearrange them then they can tell a different story altogether. Neither is necessarily the truth. They’re simply a way of examining the facts and, in
order to find out what’s going on, one has to examine all the stories they create.”

  The prince rubs his clean-shaven chin before responding. “I think I understand. So, just because the way the evidence is presented points to a particular plot that doesn’t mean it is so. Someone else could twist the same evidence together to make a different plot?”

  “Precisely. Perhaps the lack of trust on the part of our captain here is owing to the fact that he can make a different story.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” John nods. “I do know that I don’t entirely believe that William Gracie is involved in this plot. I know evidence was found at his home and in the hand of your dear brother but, even with all his strange comings and goings, I’ve never felt that he meant your family any harm.”

  “So, what other story would you tell us, then, John?” David asks.

  The captain grimaces. “Let’s suppose...”

  The following morning everyone in the Tavern is a little subdued as Gwen prepares breakfast for them.

  She bustles around the table serving them eggs, sausages, mushrooms and bread, refusing to be drawn into conversation at the moment. Each time they try she admonishes them with a look and continues with her work.

  She lays an extra plate at the end of the table and piles it high with food as Lightning looks on enviously. Just as she’s finished, Piper makes an appearance looking much better. Almost all his bruises have faded and he’s no longer moving stiffly, or wincing as he does so.

  “Tally Ho, chaps!” He strides happily across the room and takes his seat at the table grabbing a fork and setting to the food with gusto.

  Lightning has already cleared her own plate and looks around for something else to eat, just as Gwen appears with another helping for her, removing the empty dish.

  “Thanks, Gwen.” Smiling, she happily munches her way through her second breakfast.

  Wildcat slides over towards Piper and reaches her hand down to run it along his thigh. Leaning close, she nuzzles against his face. “I see you’re feeling better.”