by Barb Hendee
“That does give him a solid motive,” she finished.
Their quartet began walking again, and soon, they reached the stairwell.
“I don’t know,” Amelie said quietly. “Maddox doesn’t strike me as the type to kill from afar.”
“I agree,” said Rurik.
He’d been rather quiet on this venture, but Céline thought them both to be correct. Maddox didn’t strike her as the type to employ poison or the arcane arts, either.
All four of them climbed the east tower stairs to the second level and walked down the passage to their rooms. Céline and Amelie’s room came first.
“We’ll see you both at dinner,” Céline said to the men as she and Amelie slipped inside.
Helga was fast asleep on their bed. Her scarf half covered her face, and she snored loudly.
“Helga,” Amelie said, sounding mildly annoyed.
The old woman sputtered a few times and opened her eyes, sitting up. “There you are. I wondered if you were ever coming back up.”
Céline couldn’t blame her for napping on their bed. There wasn’t much else for her to do. It was not as if Amelie and Céline needed a ladies’ maid.
“Did you learn anything in the kitchen?” Céline asked.
“Not anything that would help you,” Helga answered, climbing off the bed. She gave a shiver. “Or anything you want to hear. But there are rumors aplenty about Prince Damek and a goodly number of missing girls and missing dogs.”
Céline raised a hand. “Do spare us those. Since Prince Damek is not the one trying to sabotage his own wedding, we don’t need to investigate him. The less we know about him, the better.”
Helga nodded, but her face was bleak. Poor thing. Céline couldn’t imagine having to listen to dark rumors about Prince Damek—which were all probably true.
Céline and Amelie rested for a while as Helga fussed about with gowns and silk shoes and stockings.
“All right, you two,” Helga finally said, “time to get fancied up for dinner.”
It seemed strange to Céline that after what had happened last night, they were all going to dress in their finest and go downstairs for wine and dinner again . . . but apparently, that was the plan. Helga picked out a satin gown of deep rose with a square neckline for Céline, and a midnight blue velvet gown with a scoop neck for Amelie.
Both young women were dressed and Helga was just finishing Amelie’s hair when a quick, purposeful knock sounded on the door. Puzzled, Céline went to open it and found the diminutive Master Lionel on the other side. She hadn’t seen him or Johanna all day.
“Yes?”
“Prince Damek has summoned you and your sister to his private chambers. You will come with me.”
Céline had no intention of allowing herself and Amelie to be trapped alone with Damek in his rooms, but then she leaned farther out and saw Anton and Rurik both waiting. Anton nodded to her once.
She turned and looked back inside the room. “Amelie, you’d better come.”
* * *
As Amelie once more passed through the door of Damek’s private chambers—following Céline, Anton, and Rurik—she wished she were not wearing this ridiculous velvet gown. She didn’t feel like herself when she was forced to put on these costumes.
Had she been allowed to wear her pants and canvas jacket and openly show her sheathed dagger on her hip, she could have faced anything.
Inside, Damek was fully dressed, and he stood waiting with his arms crossed by the hearth. Captain Kochè was there as well. Amelie noted that Damek did not make eye contact with either Céline or Anton, and he was more agitated than usual.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Well what?” Anton returned.
“Don’t play with me. What progress have your seers made today? Have they uncovered the killer? Or are we about to be treated to someone else dropping dead at dinner tonight?”
Amelie’s mouth fell half-open. How could anyone have a rational conversation with him?
But Céline answered in a measured tone, “Amelie and I have begun putting together a list of people with a possible motive or who have been behaving strangely. I did find a way to read Captain Maddox.”
“Maddox?” Damek repeated, but he didn’t seem surprised. “And?”
“I saw nothing to suggest he has anything to do with these murders.”
“Then what good are you?” Damek asked. “Start reading the others on your list. I insist you get to the bottom of this tonight!”
With both Carlotta and Lord Hamish gone, Amelie guessed that the Lady Helena would take over with the marriage negotiations, and she wanted to wrap things up as fast as possible. Damek probably wished to accommodate her.
“My lord,” Céline answered. “This is not quite so simple a process as you—”
“You want us to start reading people?” Amelie interrupted, and then added, “My lord.”
Damek stiffened, and Anton shot her a glance of warning, but she didn’t care.
“Let us start with him,” Amelie finished, pointing to Kochè.
Captain Kochè’s expression shifted first to shock and then to outrage. He took a step toward her, and she got ready to pull the dagger from her right sleeve.
But Anton stepped between them, and Kochè stopped, panting in rage
Prince Damek asked, “Why him?”
“Because he cannot walk past Rochelle without glaring at her,” Céline answered.
At this, Damek met her eyes, and he appeared to be absorbing what she’d just said. Then he looked to Kochè and pointed to a chair. “Sit down.”
“My lord!” Kochè protested.
“Now!”
Glowering, even shaking slightly, Kochè walked to the chair and sat down.
“His future or his past?” Anton asked quietly.
“Past,” Amelie decided without even consulting Céline, and then she pulled a chair up in front of Kochè. The thought of touching him was so revolting that she wavered at first, but then she steeled herself and touched his hand, closing her eyes and focusing on the spark of his spirit.
Again, this time she wanted to go back only as an outside observer, and she tried to focus on the reason for his hatred of Rochelle.
The first jolt hit, and she gripped the arm of her chair with her free hand. The second jolt hit immediately, and she found herself swept backward in the swirling mists.
They cleared, and she found herself in an alcove with a stone bench. Damek and Rochelle were sitting on the bench and he gently gripped her hand. Amelie had not seen them like this before. She’d only seen them together last night, and while they’d each been exceedingly polite to the other, the only emotion Damek had displayed was pride. Now . . . now he looked more like a would-be groom wooing his lady.
“I know he is uncouth,” Damek murmured, “but he is useful to me.”
“Please, my lord,” Rochelle whispered. “I’ve asked for nothing else. I cannot live in any place with so vile a creature. I feel ill, and I cannot eat if he enters the room. He must be sent away.”
Though Damek’s expression was troubled, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “All right, my love. I did not think you quite so delicate, but I understand. Kochè will be gone before you come to live here. I do swear.”
Her face melted into gratitude. “Thank you. I know it is a sacrifice, but it means so much to me.”
“I’ll find another captain.”
Amelie had never seen Damek so accommodating to anyone, but she also wondered why she was witnessing this scene from Kochè’s past. He was not here. Inside the vision, she moved from the alcove and found herself in the courtyard. It was twilight. She looked to her left.
There stood Kochè, his face awash in disbelief. He’d heard every word.
The scene vanished and the mists rushed back in. Amelie
was pulled forward again, and she opened her eyes, staring at Kochè’s stringy mustache. He watched her warily. Although she’d protected Johanna, she had no compunction about exposing Kochè.
Looking to Prince Damek, she said, “He overheard you promising Rochelle that you’d get rid of him before she came to live here permanently.”
Damek stiffened again, and Kochè jumped to his feet. For a second or two, Amelie thought he would strike her, and she braced for a defense, but he contained himself.
“Spying at keyholes?” Damek hissed at Kochè. “Have you worked against my marriage plans?”
“No, my lord! I’ve done nothing. I think that girl you want to wed is more trouble than you know, but I’ve done nothing.” Kochè stepped closer to Damek. “And if you want to seek out who is capable of casting spells to shut off someone else’s breath, you ought to start with that witch!”
At first, Amelie thought Kochè was calling Rochelle a witch, but then she realized he meant someone else.
“Do you mean Lady Saorise?” she asked.
“Yes, you gypsy whore,” Kochè breathed, running a hand over his face. “Why don’t you go and read her?”
“Kochè . . . ,” Damek said slowly. His tone dripped with warning.
Anton, Céline, and Rurik had been watching all this in silence, but now Céline looked to Damek. “My lord . . . perhaps you ought to summon the Lady Sao—”
A pounding on the door cut her off.
“Prince Damek!” Heath’s voice called from the outer passage. “Come down to the courtyard at once. Summon your guards. Captain Maddox and my sister are gone. He’s abducted her!”
* * *
Anton felt rushed along on a wave he couldn’t stop as he found himself down in the courtyard with Céline, Amelie, and Rurik beside him.
Darkness had fallen, and large braziers on the courtyard walls provided enough light to see.
Everyone was out here.
Even Lady Helena was present, wearing a fine gown, but she must not have had time to put her hair up before the alarm was sounded, and it hung around her drawn face. Poor Lizbeth stood beside her, staring at Anton as if she thought he might be able to fix this crisis.
Väränj guards were already leading out saddled horses, but at least twenty Kimovesk guards stood around at a loss, as Kochè had not yet given the order to saddle up. Instead, he’d headed off to the stable.
Damek’s expression was dark, angry, and thoughtful . . . all of which made Anton nervous.
“I am telling you, Baron,” Damek said to Heath with icy manners. “They are still here on castle grounds. None of my men would have allowed your captain to drag my betrothed out the front gate. You must see that.”
“And I’m telling you they are gone,” Heath shot back, grabbing the reins of a horse and swinging up. He wore a fine gray cloak clasped at his throat. “Maddox was a captain in the forces of the house of Äntes before he came to us. Do you really think he would abduct my sister and then hole up somewhere in this castle?”
“They could not have left the grounds!” Damek insisted.
Captain Kochè came jogging back from the stable and addressed his prince. “Both their horses are gone, my lord. A large roan stallion and a white mare.”
Heath’s back straightened, as if in triumph at this news, and Damek’s features went still. Anton had no idea what his brother was thinking.
Two more Kimovesk guards in black tabards came up, dragging a third man—who was terrified—between them.
“It was him, my lord,” the man on the right said to Damek. “He had the portcullis opened.”
Damek’s expression didn’t change. He stared at the frightened man in the middle. “You opened the portcullis?”
“Your bride-to-be ordered me! It was still light out when she came. She had her bodyguard with her, and she said she wished to go for a short ride. She will soon be mistress here. I could not refuse . . . I saw no reason to refuse.”
Damek was silent for a long moment and then said, “Take him away and lock him in the barracks.”
Anton didn’t wish to think about the man’s fate.
Damek slowly turned to Heath—who was still mounted on his horse. “You keep saying that your sister was abducted . . . and yet she was the one who ordered my man to let her out.”
Heath’s eyes hardened, and he did not seem so unassertive tonight. “Then Maddox did something to force her! He made her do it. Mount up, and we will recover them, and you’ll hear it from her own lips!” His horse jumped to one side at the anger in his voice, and he pulled it in. “Either that or order the gate open and let me take my contingent to find her.”
Though Heath sounded like a protective brother, Anton agreed with him about the course of action.
“He’s right,” Anton said, walking up beside Damek. “They can’t have gone far. If we leave now, we might be able to catch them.”
Damek took several quiet breaths and then turned to Kochè. “Have eight horses saddled, including mine, yours, and Anton’s. Then choose five of your best trackers.” He looked to Heath again. “Bring only five Väränj guards. We’ll most likely need to split up to search, and larger contingents could give us away.”
“Could my sister and I come?” Céline asked.
The courtyard went silent, and Anton couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But her eyes caught his, and he could see her pleading. Why would she want to come?
“I think it would be best, Baron,” she said calmly to Heath. “Rochelle is undergoing a frightening ordeal. When she is found, she will need the comfort and company of other women, and I do not think your mother or young Lizbeth should go.”
Céline never ceased to amaze Anton. In one fell swoop she had just given full support to Heath’s insistence that his sister was abducted, and she’d given a valid reason for her and Amelie’s inclusion in the pursuit.
With an expression of gratitude, Heath offered her a nod, and then addressed Damek. “Agreed?”
Damek was staring out at the gate now, as if thinking of something else. “Whatever you wish,” he answered absently.
Lady Helena and Lizbeth watched all this in silence. While Helena had a shawl, Lizbeth stood shivering in a thin silk gown, and she was clearly distraught. Anton walked toward them.
“Rurik, come with me.”
The girl watched them both with large eyes as they approached. “Oh, Anton, you’ll find her? Promise you’ll find her.”
Somehow her use of his given name didn’t bother him, especially when only hours before she had been laughing and calling him “the loser” every time he was caught with the queen in his hand.
“When did you first notice her gone?” he asked.
“Only a short while ago,” Lady Helena answered. She sounded frightened, but he suspected her concern was different—and most of it pertained to Damek’s suspicion that Rochelle had run off with Maddox.
“After leaving you in the hall,” Lizbeth said, “Heath and I went to our rooms to rest. Rochelle wasn’t in the room I share with her, but I didn’t think anything of it. I thought she must be with Mother.” She turned and showed him the open back of her silk gown. “It wasn’t until I went to find her or one of the maids to help me lace up my gown that I . . . I talked to Mother, and she’d not seen Rochelle. We started a search, and then Heath ran to Prince Damek’s chambers.”
Anton mulled that over. “Your sister and Maddox still couldn’t have gone far. They didn’t leave the hall until late afternoon.”
Lizbeth shivered again, and Anton wished he had his cloak to offer her. He considered sending her inside but knew she wanted to be out here. Movement sounded behind, and he turned to see that Heath was off his horse, walking over. Heath stripped off the fine gray cloak and wrapped it around his youngest sister. Beneath it, he wore the long-sleeved black wool shirt. “Don’t wor
ry,” he said. “We’ll find them, and I’ll deal with Maddox.”
As opposed to reassuring, his tone was angry. Once again, Anton couldn’t help noting how different he seemed tonight. He must love Rochelle to worry for her so—and to defend her honor so staunchly.
But if Anton had a sister, he would do no less.
Men began leading saddled horses from the stable.
Anton motioned to Rurik and spoke to Lady Helena. “Until Prince Damek and the young baron return, my man will stay with you and Lizbeth. You can depend upon him.”
“My lord?” Rurik asked. “You cannot—”
Anton cut him off. “I know your place is beside me. But these ladies have lost their bodyguard, and the Väränj are only here out of duty. You have my trust in this matter. I can look out for Céline and Amelie.”
Though unhappy at the order, Rurik moved over beside Lizbeth. “Yes, my lord.”
Céline’s gray mare and Amelie’s black gelding were led over to Anton.
“Wait!” a gruff voice shouted. “Wait a moment.”
Helga came running out the main front doors of the castle carrying two cloaks. How could she have known Céline and Amelie would be taking part in the search? Anton sighed. He supposed it didn’t matter. He was glad the sisters would have cloaks—as they were both still dressed for dinner and there was no time to change.
Helga got the cloaks over the sisters as men around them began to mount up.
Anton led Sable to Céline, and amidst the noise all around them, he leaned down and whispered, “What are you doing?”
Tilting her head toward his ear, she whispered back, “Damek and Heath are both on edge, near the breaking point. Can you not see? If either of them finds Maddox and Rochelle, I fear Maddox will be put to death instantly. With Amelie or myself there, we can offer to do a reading . . . to prove the truth of what happened one way or another. If nothing else, this could provide a chance for cooler heads to interject and prevail.”
He stayed there a moment longer, feeling her breath on his ear. He didn’t answer . . . but she was right.
“Keep me with yourself and Damek,” she said, “and if we split up, send Amelie with Heath.”