Silver Ravens

by Jane Fletcher

  No. There was a better use for it. She folded the page several times, and wedged it under the door to the gallery, holding it open. A through draft might help.

  Gaius’s list had contained over forty monarchs, stretching back to the legendary Mathanwy. It had not helped that, before Morgaine made herself High Queen, Annwyn had been divided into multiple kingdoms. Had these people really existed, or were they fay equivalents of King Arthur? Except, of course, if Queen Morgaine was the inspiration for Morgan le Fay, then Arthur might also be real, possibly the first captain of the Silver Ravens.

  Lori walked onto the balcony and stared out over the sea. Think, think, think. Was it worth trying the same list against another of the scrolls? Maybe she had picked the one scroll written by a non-monarch—or maybe somebody who did not quite make it to becoming a monarch. An idea wriggled into life.

  Knowledge of how to decode the cipher was clearly a closely guarded secret. Most likely, bygone kings and queens had told only their chosen heirs. Hence, Bronwen would have been the sister instructed in the matter. Who could blame her if she had been unwilling to share the secret with her murderer? All of which explained why Rianna needed help with the decoding.

  Lori returned to the table. “Gaius?”

  “Yes?”

  “This list of kings and queens, did any have siblings who were expected to inherit the throne, but died early?”

  “There have been a few.”

  “Okay. Give me their names.” She pushed a fresh sheet of paper in his direction.

  Minutes passed before he finished. Lori ran her eyes down the new list in surprise. Gaius had displayed an unexpected talent for understatement in using the word “few.” Being in line for the throne was more risky than expected. The new list was longer than the last.

  This was not going to be quick, and might still be a waste of time. However, deep in her gut, Lori was sure she was on the right track. Sighing, she picked up the quill.

  * * *

  Lori crossed off the eighth name and yawned. Her shoulder joints cracked as she stretched her arms. She needed to move her legs and get something to eat. The ideal option was a walk to the mess hall, but lunchtime was long past. She would have to settle for a quick trot around the balcony and yet more bread and cheese.

  She wandered into the sunlight, rested her arms on the balustrade, and took in the view. The waves glittered below and fluffy white clouds drifted overhead without providing any shade, although the breeze off the sea freshened the air. The sun was still high, but sinking. Even so, its rays hit so hard it was as though they were pushing her into the ground.

  She returned to the study, intending to ask Gaius to arrange food, when a commotion rumbled in through the open door to the audience hall gallery. Curious, Lori went to find a spot where she had a clear view of the area around the throne, while keeping herself concealed behind a column. What was going on?

  The angry voices were getting louder, and then the Silver Ravens appeared, with Tamsin in the lead. Behind her, Shorty and Hippo frogmarched a bound prisoner between them—a young fay man, tall, thin, and blue skinned. BH, Widget, and Finn followed.

  The condition of the prisoner was in marked contrast to any other fay Lori had seen. Instead of iridescent silk, he was wrapped in soiled rags that would have shamed a boggart. He was barefoot. His hair was so filthy it looked brown rather than silver. His hands were tied behind his back, and further coils of rope were wrapped around his arms and chest.

  He was the one making the noise. “You upstart slime have no regard for your betters. Do you think to gloat, presenting me in this condition? Do you think mud and rags could disguise the gulf between us? You should pray I never get the chance to demonstrate how far I surpass your wretchedness.”

  The Silver Ravens, for their part, looked singularly unimpressed by the stream of complaint. Hippo yanked the prisoner forward, to within a few yards of Rianna’s throne, and then Shorty kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel.

  A fresh disturbance marked the far more sedate arrival of the queen and her retinue. Lori retreated farther into the shadows. The prisoner ceased his rant when he saw Rianna. He squared his shoulders and raised his head, clearly aiming for a belated show of cool defiance.

  Rianna settled on the throne. “Gilwyn. How nice to see you again.”

  “The pleasure is quite mutual, Aunt.”

  “My title is Queen.”

  “Your title is usurper and murderer. I’ll give you no other name than that.”

  Shorty raised a fist to cuff the prisoner, but Rianna made a gesture to stop him. “No. It’s all right. Gilwyn was always prone to boorishness, even as a child. I blame my sister for not teaching him better manners.”

  “You dare speak a word against her.”

  “I dare to do far more than that, as you well know. Bronwen had many failings. Being too soft-hearted was the least of them. Annwyn’s preservation demanded her removal. But please believe me, I took no pleasure in it.”

  “Believe you? What sort of fool do you think me?”

  Lori did not believe her either.

  Rianna sighed theatrically. “Poor Gilwyn. You sound out of sorts. Have you not enjoyed my hospitality in Caerbonec?”

  “Your prison fortress? Look at my current state to find your answer.”

  “I only wanted to ensure you were safe and at no risk of getting caught up in silly escapades. What would dear Bronwen have said, if I’d let anything happen to you? After all, you are the last of my blood kin.”

  “Only because you’ve murdered the rest.”

  Gilwyn’s claim was easy to believe. Was the mention of blood significant? Lori was sure the next word in Morgaine’s spell had not been traitor, and even if it were, Rianna would seem a better fit.

  “Oh, Gilwyn. You really can be wearisome.” Rianna turned to Tamsin. “Captain, thank you for escorting my nephew here. You and your Silver Ravens may go now. I’m sure you’re tired after the journey. My guards will find suitable accommodation in the keep for Gilwyn…on one of the lower levels, I think.”

  Of course Caersiddi had a dungeon. No fairytale castle would be complete without one.

  The Silver Ravens bowed and left the audience hall. With them gone, the atmosphere changed and the fragile veneer of humour vanished.

  “My sister was a weak fool, and you’ve inherited all her worst traits.”

  “If I had a blade at your throat you’d see how weak I am.”

  “If, if, if.” Malice burned in Rianna’s eyes. “I have news for you, you don’t, and never will have.”

  Two enthralled humans entered the hall. One was Rianna’s toy-boy from the previous day. The other was less pretty, but equally muscular.

  They only appeared after the Silver Ravens had left, supporting the notion that their existence was hidden from humans Rianna needed to keep on her side. But, while it was confronting to have evidence for Tamsin’s innocence in the matter, the thralls were not being hidden from Lori. Had Rianna forgotten she was in the study, or did she not care?

  “Take him below.”

  The thralls hauled Gilwyn to his feet. He tried to shake loose, but their grip was firm. This did not stop him from calling out as he was dragged away. “One day, you’ll regret not killing me sooner.”

  “I’ll kill you when it suits my purpose and not before. But not to spoil the surprise, that time is close at hand.” Rianna also left, followed by her retinue.

  Lori returned to the study. Rianna clearly had a lot going on at the moment. Was it too hopeful to think the queen had limited time to devote to minor players, such as kidnapped computer programmers? Maybe, once all the scrolls were decoded, Tamsin could take her home while Rianna’s thoughts were occupied with other matters. Lori took a deep breath, trying to calm her thoughts, then picked up the quill with renewed determination. The sooner she was done, the better.

  * * *

  The mess hall was its normal chaotic hubbub. Boggarts scampered between th
e tables, carrying tankards of beer and platters piled with meat, bread, and fruit. Iron Ravens catcalled, laughed, and sang. The amount of alcohol flowing no doubt played a part in the turmoil.

  The Silver Ravens were at their usual half-empty table in the corner. Lori dropped onto the bench beside Tamsin.

  Hippo grinned at her. “We’re back.” As ever, stating the obvious, but welcoming.

  “I know. I saw you in the audience hall.”

  “You did?” Tamsin sounded surprised. “What were you doing there? I didn’t see you.”

  “I was up in a gallery. I’m still working in the keep. The queen has more scrolls for me to decode. I heard the commotion and went to see what was happening.”

  “Gilwyn wasn’t a happy bunny, was he?” Hippo said around a mouthful of food. Then he gave Tamsin a poorly disguised wink and shunted along the bench to join Widget and BH in conversation. As subtlety went, it was a non-starter. Lori tried to work out whether she minded.

  “It’s good you’re able to be of more assistance to Queen Rianna. I’m sure she’s grateful.”

  Lori was not at all sure. “It means I’ll have to delay returning to Earth.”

  “Whenever you’re free to go, just let me know. Not that I’m eager for us to part company.”

  “It’s not that I…” Lori bit her tongue. Unsafe waters lay ahead. “The prisoner was the queen’s nephew. Had he escaped from somewhere?”

  “No. He was being held in Caerbonec. That’s another royal castle, some way south. Queen Rianna wanted to talk with him, so we were sent to make sure he arrived safely.”

  “Why was he in prison? What had he done?”

  “Been a general pain in the arse.” Tamsin shrugged. “I suppose it’s understandable he sided with his mother.”

  “Do you know why the queen wants to see him now?”

  “It’s not my business.”

  “You just follow orders.”

  “Queen Rianna knows what she’s doing.” Tamsin’s voice acquired an edge.

  But do you? “I didn’t mean it as criticism. I’m hunting for words and phrases people might have used as keys. It was a long shot you could help.”

  Tamsin relaxed again. “I would if I could. What sort of help are you hoping for?”

  “I can look up place names and genealogies, but I don’t know what’s important, or when. I don’t know any history for Annwyn, or the politics, the gossip, the myths.”

  Now Tamsin laughed. “How much time have you got?”

  “How much can you spare?”

  Tamsin finished her meal and shifted around so she was half facing Lori. “I’m free all evening.”

  “Then give me a history lesson.”

  “If that’s all you want.”

  “For now.” She was skirting around trouble, but could not stop herself.

  The glint in Tamsin’s eye said she was more than ready to meet Lori halfway. “I’ll try to be quick. For Annwyn, the important things are magic and family. Family, because that determines who gets dumped on. And magic, because that determines who does the dumping.”

  “Dog eat dog.”

  “Exactly. Mathanwy was the magician who created Annwyn, and judging by the number of children he sired, he must have been a dog.”

  “Who did he sire them on?”

  “Monsters—if the stories are true. He wasn’t fussy. As I said, a dog. Anyway, Mathanwy was the first of the fay. He created Annwyn with the help of Danu, who was either his sister, his daughter, or his lover, or maybe all three. Fay families can get very confusing. But they fell out and another fay called Lyrr got involved—I’ve no idea where he fits in, but things got even more confusing. The final upshot was that Danu ended up the winner on points and most rulers in Annwyn claim descent from her. Although Lyrr’s descendants kept stirring things up.”

  Tamsin continued her potted history of Annwyn. Her face was mere inches away. The rising noise level could justify this closeness, but Lori was not kidding herself that this was the only reason.

  The stories went a long way to explain Gaius’s list of dead siblings. Life and death in the royal courts of Annwyn made the Borgias seem like a kid’s birthday party, although with less ice cream and cake. Rianna had been following family tradition in bumping off her sister. The main question was why had she left her nephew alive, though it made sense if she had known she would eventually need his blood.

  Tamsin came to the end of another gruesome string of events. “Are you sure you want to hear more? Wouldn’t you like a break, or a change of subject?”

  The mess hall had emptied. Even though the room was now quiet, Tamsin had not moved away. Lori’s stomach flipped. So very little would be needed for their lips to meet. She felt herself drawn forward. Her eyes started to close. Her body was taking control, without waiting for her to make up her mind.

  Two hands landed hard on the table, making it shake. Lori lurched back, jolted from her lust-driven stupor.

  Finn loomed over them. “Are you ready to go? Shorty has a couple of decent bottles stashed in his room.” While not completely ignoring Lori, his words were not directed her way.

  “Sure.” Tamsin’s eyes met Lori’s. “Do you want to come too? Or we could go somewhere else.”

  “I…” I don’t want to give Rianna a reason to be pissed off at me. Not that Rianna was the type of person who needed reasons. “I have to get back to the keep.”

  “Queen Rianna is keeping you working so late?”

  “I’ve been left to set my own schedule. But I know she wants the work done quickly.”

  “Then I won’t keep you.” Tamsin rose. “Another time.”

  “Okay.”

  While mulling over Tamsin’s stories, Lori picked at the remains of her now cold meal. The path to power in Annwyn was a tale of death and betrayal. Family counted for little more than identifying who you needed to kill in order to advance. Given the number of strange accidents in suspicious circumstances, prudent monarchs would leave it to the last moment before naming a successor, in case it gave their chosen heir the idea of speeding things up.

  If the scroll she was working on came from a sibling who died before getting the chance to take the throne, it made sense if the death occurred towards the end of the parent’s reign. Lori sat up. Returning to work at the keep had been an excuse, but maybe she should go back. Gaius could reorder the names, putting those who most closely predeceased their parents at the top.

  Lori left the mess hall and hurried through the middle bailey. Night had fallen while she and Tamsin had been talking, and shadows lay thick under the trees. However, no restrictions had been placed on the times she could be in the study, and Gaius seemed permanently available. She would spend an hour or so, testing out the first ten names on the revised list, and then call it a night.

  Chapter Twelve

  As it turned out, Lori needed only four tries to hit on the right name. The note was from a sister of King Orfran called Ceirwen, who thought her brother was trying to poison her. The evidence was highly circumstantial, but given subsequent events, hard to dismiss. Orfran had been father to both Rianna and Bronwen. The words apple and tree came to mind.

  “Do you want to tell the queen that I’ve decoded this one?” she asked Gaius.

  “The queen is in her bedchamber and should not be disturbed. I will inform her in the morning.”

  Better not ask how he knew.

  Lori wandered onto the balcony. With nightfall, the heat of the day had faded, but the air was still warm. The sounds of the sea rushing over the rocks was soothing. Starlight glittered on the waves. She was the only one still up. The other balconies were now silent and deserted. The inhabitants of Caersiddi had gone to their beds—or someone else’s. She spared a thought for Rianna’s toy-boy.

  She ought to go back to her room, but she was not feeling at all tired. The success of her hunch had given her an adrenaline rush. Eight days had passed since she arrived in Annwyn. The month was December, back on Earth,
and her parents would be celebrating Christmas without her. How long before they realised something was wrong? Surely they would try to send a card to her at the South Pole. What was the chance she could complete the decoding and get back before a full Earth year elapsed? She would press on.

  The scrolls were held in an array of diamond shaped pigeonholes. Thankfully, the past rulers had not been compulsive writers, with the exception of whoever had produced the novelette. She took all the scrolls out and laid them on the table. Morgaine’s original scroll was among them, but no sign of the translation. Rianna would be holding on to it. Lori was tempted to continue decoding and find out exactly whose blood was needed, but this was unwise, with Gaius watching.

  So which one next?

  A hundred years separated Morgaine and Ceirwen. Lori picked up their scrolls and held them under a lantern. Even in the weak light, Morgaine’s scroll was noticeably darker, which might be a result of age. She put down the two scrolls and picked up a third, the darkest of all.

  Despite the parchment’s colour, the ink was unfaded and the text was clearly legible, or would have been, were it not for the tiny handwriting. When unrolled, the scroll was less than two feet long, but the writer had packed a lot in. The sensible course was to wait until tomorrow, when the light was better, but an idea nagged at her. Even though she would not finish it that night, she had to try one obvious name.

  While Gaius returned the other scrolls to the cabinet, Lori took a new page from her notebook and wrote the name “Mathanwy” in a new grid. “Now, we’ll see about myths and legends.”

  The first letters were discouraging and did not make any words. She squinted at the minuscule writing. “I don’t suppose there’s a magnifying glass in the study.”

  Gaius did not reply. She had not asked a direct question.

  “Is there a magnifying glass in the study?”