Scrivener's Tale

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘I’m all right, I’m all right,’ she said, holding up a hand.

  ‘Thank Shar’s blessings,’ Florentyna said and Cassien could hear the tightness and terror in her voice. She sat on the bench beside Darcelle and put her arms around her sister and hugged her, all previous offence forgotten. ‘What happened, dear one? Why were you alone?’

  Over the top of the queen’s words, Tamas was demanding to know about the corpse at his feet. ‘Who in hell’s flames is this?’ he demanded of his own personal guards, standing by the doorway, shocked and embarrassed.

  ‘The man had papers, my liege,’ his senior guard said. ‘Chancellor Burrage had granted him access. The queen’s seal was upon it.’ They pointed to where the parchment lay on the ground, near Tentrell’s corpse, which lay face down.

  ‘I wasn’t here,’ Tamas roared at the man.

  The guard shrank and Cassien felt sorry for him. ‘We changed watch, my king, from Morgravian to Ciprean. I was not told that you’d left. I was simply informed that Princess Darcelle was within. We doubled the guard as a result. Her own servants waited alongside.’

  Tamas’s shoulders dropped. Cassien reckoned the king had wisely decided to cool his rage and not create a scene when more important matters were at stake. ‘My princess is safe. That’s what matters,’ Tamas said. The king turned back to Darcelle. ‘Did he touch you, my love?’

  She shook her head, emerging from Florentyna’s embrace. ‘No, no, not at all,’ she said, now dabbing at her eyes. She pointed at the jewel in her hand. ‘But he did give me this.’ At everyone’s noises of surprise she explained all about Tentrell’s visit. By its end, her somewhat forced tears had dried and her sniffs were getting less frequent, Cassien noticed. ‘He was kind and funny,’ she added.

  ‘And what actually happened, Princess Darcelle?’ Cassien said, speaking for the first time. As was usual for him he stood aside from everyone.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said, frowning at him.

  Her eyes were not even red, he noted. ‘Did he make a sound, clutch his heart, call out to you for help?’

  ‘All of those,’ she answered, growing haughty at having to answer his questions. ‘His eyes grew wide as if in pain and then he put his hand here,’ she said, mimicking the motion by touching her chest. ‘He groaned and then he cried out for help.’

  ‘And then he fell here?’ Cassien pointed.

  She nodded, frowning. ‘Why is he asking these questions, Florentyna?’

  The queen stood, giving Cassien a glare to halt his questions. She moved to the entrance of the courtyard, where it led into the king’s guest rooms, and beckoned. Two maids emerged.

  ‘Take my sister to her chambers and wait for me there. Make up a warm bath for her. She is in shock. Tamas, will you send some of your guards with ours, please? It might reassure you to have some of your people around Darcelle,’ she offered. It was a kind gesture, Cassien thought. ‘No-one is to go in or out of Darcelle’s rooms without my permission other than you two,’ she said to the maids, both of them senior, and taking in the guards with her glare as well. ‘Understood? No-one. I don’t care if they’re waving a paper with my personal signature on it.’

  They both dropped obediently into a low curtsey in answer and the guards bowed low to show they understood too.

  ‘Go now, dear one,’ she urged Darcelle gently.

  ‘Aren’t you coming?’ the princess whimpered.

  ‘Soon enough,’ Florentyna assured her. ‘We have a few things to sort and find out. But you’ll be safe now.’

  Darcelle looked to her king. ‘Tamas?’ she asked wearily, expecting him to follow.

  ‘King Tamas,’ Cassien said quietly. ‘Er, forgive me, your majesty, but it may be helpful if you stayed.’

  Tamas frowned, glanced at Florentyna, who shook her head, unsure. Cassien added. ‘Please, your majesty. We should get to the bottom of this.’

  The king shrugged. ‘Of course, however I can help. Go on, my love. Your sister’s quite right. This has been a shock and you need to rest; have some quiet time.’

  Darcelle threw Cassien a sharp glance he couldn’t decipher but she allowed herself to be led quietly away.

  Cassien asked everyone else to leave the courtyard, save the three guards. Word had obviously got around the palace that his orders should be obeyed.

  Florentyna looked at him as he closed the doors and walked back into the garden. ‘What’s going on?’

  Cassien sighed. ‘Something’s not right.’

  ‘Something?’ Tamas mocked. ‘Nothing’s right! Anything could have happened to her. People have been dying in the palace overnight from some strange phenomenon, including your own chancellor, plus festivities have been cancelled …’ He held up his hands in defence. ‘Believe me, Queen Florentyna, I would do the same under the circumstances but these are strange times.’

  ‘Cassien?’ she urged.

  ‘Let’s have the body moved to the chapel and have it put somewhere separate. I want to look at Tentrell properly. But not here.’

  ‘I’ve had all the dead taken to the crypt of the cathedral. There were too many for our chapel; only Burrage is there, together with the dowager.’

  ‘Then there’s room for Tentrell.’

  She nodded at the remaining men. ‘Take this man to Stoneheart’s chapel. No-one is to go in or out until Master Cassien gives permission.’

  They bowed and silently removed him. Cassien picked up the fallen parchment, glanced at it.

  ‘Tamas, I’ve just realised you haven’t been properly introduced. Forgive me. This is Cassien Figaret, my champion, or more rightly, my shadow.’ She smiled faintly at her jest. ‘He’s now entirely in charge of my security.’

  ‘That’s wise. I think you should do the same for Darcelle.’

  ‘Perhaps that will be your role, sir, soon enough,’ Florentyna said gently. ‘I’m thinking it might be best for her to sail with you to Cipres on the morrow.’

  ‘But …’ His gaze narrowed. ‘What about the Pearlis wedding?’

  ‘I realise this is a hasty decision but in light of what’s happening, I think it will prove unwise. Better she be married in Cipres. Morgravia is not a safe place at present.’

  ‘Do you really mean that? Not about the safety … about the wedding being held in Cipres?’ Tamas asked, astonished.

  ‘I do,’ she said. ‘I just want her to be happy and I think you can do that for her. I know she would love to be married as a queen in front of her new people. It makes sense.’

  ‘But your tradition, Florentyna?’

  She made a soft sound of dismissal. ‘Tradition should be broken every now and then … for the right reasons,’ she said and treated him to one of her rare smiles.

  Cassien watched the exchange between the two monarchs. It looked effortless and sounded honest. They were going to make a sound strategic ‘marriage’, given that both were keen to find solutions. It was a pity that they weren’t the betrothed.

  ‘You make me proud to call you sister, Queen Florentyna. I’m sorry that Darcelle painted you in such a poor light — she said you’d cancelled the wedding plans.’

  Florentyna sighed. ‘My sister is wound rather tight at present, sir. Forgive her, as I do.’

  He nodded. ‘Such pragmatism is rare.’ She dipped her head at the compliment, although both of their gazes lingered a little longer on each other than Cassien thought politic.

  ‘So, Cassien,’ Tamas said, clearing his throat and turning from the queen, ‘I sensed an undercurrent earlier. Why don’t you say what’s on your mind?’

  Cassien was impressed. He found himself liking Tamas more by the moment, but the king would not like him shortly. He took a breath. ‘Forgive me, both of you, but I don’t believe that what Princess Darcelle told us is what actually occurred here.’

  He felt the former warmth chill around him as though blossomtide had forgotten her place and sneaked back behind her cooler cousin.

  ‘You think my sister lie
d?’ Florentyna said.

  ‘Let me just tell you what I saw. Forgive me, please, if I offend.’ He didn’t wait for their response for there was no easy way to say what he wanted and not offend both royals. ‘I saw a mark on her forehead and through her hair. She had worn that heavy jewel he’d brought. I doubt very much that she could have put it on easily without help, and she would have needed to ask and give permission for him to approach. I think Tentrell did touch the princess at her behest. When he fell, I suspect she pulled the jewel and its chain off, which might explain the telltale strands of hair that had come loose from her otherwise perfect styling.’

  Florentyna was as still as ice and looked at him with a gaze to match. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Her lips, your majesty.’

  ‘Stained with cherry juice,’ the queen finished, looking unimpressed by this observation.

  ‘She ate the cherries, man!’ Tamas growled. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Perhaps. Your guest did too,’ Cassien said. ‘I noted his lips and fingers were stained as well. I’ll wager his tongue is blackened from the juice.’

  ‘So?’ Florentyna said.

  ‘Your sister’s tongue was clean, her teeth white, her fingers unstained. If she ate cherries, she swallowed them whole. Did you see your sister’s neck?’

  ‘No … I —’

  ‘Oh, this is preposterous,’ Tamas said, losing patience. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  Cassien cleared his throat again and forced himself to say it. ‘Forgive me, your majesties, but I believe Tentrell kissed Princess Darcelle, or so the telltale cherry juice suggests.’ He expected howls but he was given only frigid silence. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added.

  Tamas growled and launched himself at Cassien, but fell into the yielding softness of air; the champion had leapt nimbly, dancing back silently.

  ‘I’m going to flay the very skin from your frame for that accusation.’

  Cassien shook his head. ‘And pigs might fly, your majesty. You won’t even get close enough to reach me with that Ciprean sword.’

  Tamas yelled and drew his sword with a rasping sound of iron. He looked astonished to see a magnificent sword, already drawn, already poised to strike, just a hair’s breadth from his throat.

  ‘I serve the Queen of Morgravia. I have no duty to the King of Cipres, so put your blade away, majesty. I alone have permission to draw a weapon in her company.’ Cassien’s tone was chilling.

  ‘Stop! Both of you!’ Florentyna commanded. ‘Kill each other later. I have more important matters than watching you two making each other’s hackles rise. We’re all on the same side here. And Cassien, you’d better be prepared to back up your alarming claim with fact. Why would Darcelle lie for Tentrell? And what has that got to do with his death?’

  The men stared angrily at each other. It was Tamas who sheathed his sword first, which again impressed Cassien. Only a confident king would do so in service of the common good. So he apologised, bowing low to the sovereign of Cipres. ‘Forgive me, your majesty. As you say, these are strange times and if I’m overly protective of our queen, you can surely understand why.’

  ‘Answer Florentyna’s question.’

  ‘I sense Darcelle’s protecting him.’

  ‘He’s a stranger. I can say with all confidence that she has never met the man previously. Please, Tamas, believe me,’ Florentyna offered.

  The king glanced at Cassien. ‘Be very careful.’

  ‘Let’s go to the chapel,’ Cassien said. ‘I’ll show you what I saw. Make up your own minds. One more thing.’ They both looked expectantly at him. ‘This permission from Burrage,’ he waved the parchment, ‘makes it very clear that it was for the picnic only.’ He looked between them. ‘Tentrell took it upon himself to ease his way past the guards and into this courtyard.’

  In her bath, Princess Darcelle allowed the warm suds to soothe away her fears … at least that’s what she conveyed to her maids, begging them to leave her alone so she could have just a few moments of peace to gather her thoughts.

  They agreed, but said they would be standing on the other side of her chamber door. When the door latch clicked and she heard the key turn in that lock — for they were taking no chances on this strange day — a smile stretched across Princess Darcelle’s cherry-stained mouth.

  And her smile was heavy with old cunning.

  I didn’t know you could do that, my love, Aphra said, her voice full of awe. The magic has evolved.

  Not really, Cyricus replied, amused. It’s taken my knowledge to change it. You don’t give me enough credit, Aphra.

  Change it? Then why did my form as Angelina have to die? I rather liked it and I know you would have.

  You’re not thinking, are you? We couldn’t have a disturbance in the worlds. The body of Angelina belonged there, not here. I’m more likely to grieve the loss of Gabriel’s body. I don’t like being female — makes me think of Lyana,’ Cyricus said and spat at the bathwater.

  But the kiss. How did you do it? It’s so clean; no messy death.

  Cyricus chuckled, his hate for the goddess instantly set aside. Well, you see, in Myrren’s view, when she first cast this spell, she was so full of anger, her need for vengeance so raw, she designed her magic to be spiteful. In every way it was harmful … to its host and to the victims it worked on. It was such a cynical magic, I continue to be impressed by it. But I’ve had centuries to lick my wounds, Aphra. My anger is so cold, it has turned white in my mind. It’s now a thing of pure, hard beauty. It feels nothing but the satisfaction of seeing itself coming to fruition. And it is patient. My revenge will be taken slowly, painfully and without the mistakes that anger prompts. Myrren’s magic demanded pain and blood. I don’t need to hurt people like Darcelle … she’s irrelevant — nothing more than a host. I just want her dead — her spirit gone. Did you feel her fright?

  I did, my love. I revelled in her fear.

  And she fled to her god, allowing us to enter her body — so much neater, don’t you think, than how we entered Gabe, or you entered Angelina, leaving our former hosts bloodied? This way is neat, painless, soundless. And imagine, the last physical sensation she felt was a kiss … infinitely more subtle than a blade.

  I wonder what they’ll make of Gabriel’s death? Aphra remarked. What if someone knows he’s not the real Tentrell?

  It was time to leave Gabe’s body. I had hoped to hang on to it a little longer, but I have a grander plan about my ultimate host, so I can wait. I suspect Gabe’s body will be laid out somewhere and hopefully forgotten about for the time being as the queen has much to deal with. The news of Tentrell’s death will still be filtering through and it will be assumed the gardener killed him. Now we have a beautiful new host. It’s odd to be a woman, I’ll admit, but it makes the cunning of this magic so much more fun. They have no idea who is among them!

  That bodyguard of the queen was suspicious.

  I noticed. Cassien is his name. I won’t forget it either. But he’s suspicious of only things mortal, my love. He has no idea what has come to visit Morgravia.

  He laughed and Aphra joined him as Cyricus dipped Darcelle’s beautiful body even deeper into the warm depths of the bath.

  TWENTY-SIX

  King, queen and Cassien arrived at the chapel. There was a ring of stern-looking Morgravian guards around it, who stood to attention at the sight of the trio.

  ‘Is Father Cuthben here?’ Florentyna asked the most senior of the men who approached.

  Cassien noticed that she looked relieved when the soldier who greeted them said that the priest had left his apologies. ‘He felt it necessary to accompany the, er … the others to the cathedral, your majesty.’

  ‘I understand. So the three corpses are laid out?’

  He nodded. ‘As you instructed.’

  ‘Let us in, please,’ she said and the guard unlocked the door, holding it ajar while the queen and her companions filed in.

  ‘Send word,’ Cassien told the man, ‘for the boy called
Hamelyn to be brought here. The queen’s servants know him.’ He could use Ham’s insightful observations right now and he needed to know if the sword was talking. The idea of a fit man dropping dead in front of Darcelle was not acceptable to him.

  The door closed solidly behind them.

  Inside, the stained glass was of rich, deep colours, which allowed only a small amount of daylight to leak in. The candles burned steadily and gave off a comforting glow. It was dry and cold — very cold. Convenient for the corpses, Cassien thought, and noticed the queen shiver.

  She had moved to stand over Saria’s body, reaching to touch the woman’s hand. It must feel like ice by now, Cassien imagined. They would have to bury her tomorrow as his keen sense of smell told him it would be hours only before everyone would smell the same bouquet of decay.

  ‘This is the Dowager Saria,’ Florentyna explained to Tamas and as she spoke, Cassien stopped listening to her, looking around.

  He saw Burrage, fully robed and bedecked in his chancellor’s finery, hair tidied, hands placed neatly across his middle. Cassien looked for the third and most recent corpse and turned to search in the other direction, frowning.

  ‘Cassien?’ the queen queried.

  ‘Where’s Tentrell?’ he said. He could now see where the body must have been placed. The pallet was in place, set away from the two more important chapel guests, but it was empty.

  ‘They said there were three,’ Tamas added, swivelling to check he wasn’t mistaken.

  There was a knock at the door. Florentyna nodded at Cassien. He opened it. Saw Hamelyn waiting with a guard dwarfing him.

  ‘Come in. Er, Fend, is that your name?’ he called to the man who’d first spoken to them, as Hamelyn pushed inside, looking unsure of why he’d been called.

  ‘It is, sir,’ the senior man said.

  ‘Three corpses laid out, you say?’