by P J Berman
‘I cannot promise that. If she implicates Princess Silrith, then that goes in favour of the King and she will be free to go, but if she implicates the King or anyone else, she will hang, understand?’
Zethun’s heart sank.
‘Yes my Lord.’
‘Ah, you see. They have her,’ said Oprion, pointing to where, through the crowd, Lyzina could be seen struggling to break free from the grip of two of Oprion’s men.
‘You,’ Oprion called to the nearest guard. ‘Have her brought to the dungeons beneath the King’s palace. We shall question her there.’
Chapter 22
Zethun was surprised by Oprion’s jovial manner by the time the three of them arrived at the palace. Others might have actually believed it to be genuine, despite their earlier conversation about the letter. Zethun wasn’t fooled though. Oprion was trying just that bit too hard.
‘We shall see to the prisoner soon,’ he had said on their arrival. ‘But first I insist that we dine together. I must introduce you to my family.’
He was the perfect host, making sure Zethun and Hoban always had their plates and cups full, while generally conducting himself as if the palace was his own. Over lunch they met his Medrodorian wife, Lady Haarksa, who was a haughty woman, wearing a demure white gown. She looked like she was approaching forty, making her at least ten years older than her husband. The left side of her face was marked by two large bruises, which she had clearly tried to cover with make-up. Zethun wondered what had caused those.
Also present were Oprion and Haarksa’s four daughters, who ranged in age from infancy to around eight. There was also a blonde girl in her teens there, named Jorikssa, who was Haarksa’s daughter from her previous marriage. Zethun noticed a distinct lack of affection between her and Oprion when she was introduced and even the chemistry between the girl and her mother was rather lacking.
Hoban engaged in the situation much more than Zethun, who felt that exchanging pleasantries over lunch was a rather bizarre activity to be engaging in right before questioning a prisoner.
‘Oprion and I have been married nine years now,’ said Haarksa, in the harsh, guttural tones of her highly accented Bennvikan.
She’s definitely from the northeast of Medrodor, thought Zethun. It was unmistakable.
‘My first husband died in a hunting accident,’ she went on. ‘Fortunately for me, when I came to Bennvika with Jorikssa, Oprion was looking for a wife.’
‘Good timing for me, I’d say,’ said Oprion, but his mock affection towards her wasn’t fooling anyone. ‘Anyway, my father was always in debt,’ he continued. ‘Everyone knew it. That’s what I inherited. But in finding my dear Haarksa I not only saved the family estate but made it what it is today – the richest and grandest in the country.’
Zethun didn’t believe that simply gaining money through a dowry was much to show off about and he was hating sitting and socialising with these people who talked about poverty but had no idea what the word really meant, unlike much of the population. All he could think about was that Oprion clearly didn’t have the strength that Jostan did and that for the sake of the people, if nothing could be done to make him turn against the King, then something must be done to destabilise his position before Jostan returned. Once some concessions had been made, in theory, it would be easier to gain more. But how could they get that first one? He thought back to the anger he felt after his proposal regarding the harvest was rejected by Jostan. He hoped that Capaea, or Lyzina, or whatever her real name was, might know something that would be of use; some leverage with which to force the crown to loosen its stranglehold on power. Certainly, Oprion had been very keen to have her arrested. But why? The idea that it was because she stole some money and may possibly have information on the murder of King Lissoll didn’t seem enough. Oprion had seemed too excited by the capture of a lowly maid for it to be just that. Zethun’s thoughts were interrupted as a Verusantian guard entered the room and spoke to Oprion.
‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said, before turning to Zethun and Hoban. ‘The prisoner is ready to be questioned. Shall we proceed?’
‘Of course,’ said Hoban. ‘It was an honour to meet you, Lady Haarksa,’ he added.
‘And you too Congressor Salanath and young Zethun. I hope we can become better acquainted in the future,’ she replied. Zethun was momentarily annoyed at her patronising tone, but then he noticed a nervousness come over Hoban’s face as he walked away from her. This puzzled him, but he didn’t think anyone else had noticed.
They followed Oprion and the guard to the ground floor of the palace and then down some more steps into the palace dungeon.
‘Normally prisoners are of course kept away from the palace,’ Oprion was saying. ‘But if it is a palace servant that has committed a crime, I’m told the usual procedure is to conduct the questioning here. We have a similar room beneath my own home. A decent torturer can be so expensive. You don’t want to fork out all that money only to have some wretched prisoner bleat at the first sight of a hot poker. No, always best to start here doing the questioning yourself and avoid that sort of expense.’
Zethun hated Oprion’s callous attitude. Clearly, this man prioritised his money above all things. As they approached the bottom of the stone staircase that led deep underground, he saw four large metal doors, one of which had a guard outside, dressed like a militiaman but wearing a red sash.
‘Unlock the door,’ Oprion told the second guard.
‘Yes my Lord.’
‘You two go in first,’ Oprion told Zethun and Hoban. ‘My presence may affect what she says. Go in there and see what you can get her to reveal. Tell her that I mean her no harm and send a guard up to fetch me if you deem it necessary.’
He ushered them through the door, along with the sash-wearing guard, shutting it behind them. Zethun found himself in a small, windowless room with three cells at the far side. Two of them were empty, but in the middle one was Capaea, or Lyzina, or whoever she was. The young woman had a black eye and was covered in purple bruises. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were reddened with blood and had been ripped as if she’d been assaulted sexually as well as violently. Yet her stare was still full of strength and anger.
‘There’s no need to torture me further,’ she said firmly. ‘As you see, I have already suffered unnecessarily at the hands of your brutes.’
Zethun wondered how long her strength would hold.
‘Why did you run if you are so prepared to give away information?’ Zethun asked.
‘Because I would have preferred to reach safety of course,’ Capaea spat. ‘Yet given that you now hold me prisoner, there is no point me withholding anything. I’m not stupid.’
Zethun couldn’t fault her logic. Her only hope now was to give all the information she could and hope that it resulted in her release. Otherwise, her chances were slim.
‘We have been tasked with questioning you, but I assure you it is not us who hold you, prisoner,’ Zethun said. He expected a reply, but Capaea’s only response was to look from one man to the other with a searching, distrustful gaze.
‘How did you recognise Lord Oprion?’ Zethun asked. ‘It would appear that when we last met, you lied about your identity and lied again when you said that the maid belonging to Queen Accutina named Lyzina had been missing since the night Princess Silrith was arrested. What do you say to that now?’
Capaea gave a cold chuckle.
‘Well, to be honest, most of the information I gave you that day was false. You might say that I was attempting to hide in plain sight.’
‘So when did you really escape?’ Zethun asked.
‘Shortly after Lord Oprion arrived in Kriganheim,’ she said. ‘I am as good as dead already, so I might as well tell you everything. After all, who doesn’t love a martyr? When I told you my name is Capaea, I was telling the truth. But there never was a Lady’s maid called Lyzina belonging to the Dowager Queen, though Lord Oprion couldn’t have known that. Lyzina never existed. I simply neede
d to be her for a few minutes after stealing the letter in order to get him to find out about the theft. You see, if he begins to fret about who has it, then he will inadvertently begin to make himself look guilty of the things insinuated by the letter’s contents, giving more weight to the evidence we have. This, in turn, makes it easier to disgrace him and dispose of him and if people find the strength to depose a Lord by manipulating the King into removing him, then maybe they can make further gains and possibly even remove the King altogether. You see, this is all for the good of the people. That is what you claim to fight for, is it not? How strange it is that you stand here questioning me when we fight for the same cause. I know of your words with Lord Rintta at his feast. It is plain to see that Lord Oprion Aethelgard is the same threat to the rights of the common people as he is. They’re all the same.’
Zethun was struggling to find fault with her argument.
‘So you are a spy fighting for the people?’ he asked, giving himself time for thought.
‘Of course and my sponsor fights for the same cause. He tasked me with the mission and arranged everything for Taevuka and myself. He even sent his henchmen to find us and get us away from the palace, didn’t you Congressor Salanath?’
‘What?’ Zethun asked, confused, turning on Hoban.
‘Now Zethun, I was going to tell you as soon as Capaea and Taevuka were out of the country,’ Hoban said with a worried look on his face. ‘When Princess Silrith was arrested, I visited her in her cell before she was taken away. I knew that she had to be restored to the throne before Jostan could start killing any Bennvikans who would not submit to his God. We both knew that the next time Jostan left Kriganheim for any long period, then as Governor of Hazgorata, it was highly possible that Lord Oprion would be made regent in his absence. With that in mind, the Princess told me of a love letter sent by Oprion to her, which she had kept in her bedchamber. If I could gain access to that, I could destabilize Oprion’s grip on power while the King is away by insinuating that the King can’t trust him. The very idea would weaken them both. From there we could have gained control of the city and launched a full-scale rebellion against the crown. The original plan had been to first steal the letter and then make sure he learned of the theft at a time of our choosing. Unfortunately, Lord Oprion arrived a little sooner than anticipated and when the letter was stolen, he was already here in Kriganheim. We tried to spin things to our advantage, as Capaea described and that was when he sent-’
‘-Yes I am aware that he sent the city into lockdown. I was there with you at the time. What I want to know is why you did all this behind my back,’ said Zethun.
Hoban sighed. At least he looked like he felt some level of guilt. Yet Zethun made a mental note not to trust him so easily in future.
‘I felt that the fewer the number of people who knew about it the better. We managed to smuggle Taevuka out of the city by lowering her over the edge of the walls with a rope,’ said Hoban. ‘I have no idea what happened to her after that. The plan was for Capaea to escape the same way, but she was spotted and only had time to evade the guards by running back into the city. After that, there were more guards placed on the walls and escape wasn’t possible, so she had to remain in my house until such time as the lockdown is lifted.’
‘I see. So are your loyalties with Princess Silrith, or with the common people?’ Zethun asked angrily.
‘Both. She is as much of a philanthropist as I.’
‘Then I still don’t understand why you kept this from me. Did Naivard know about this too?’
‘He did not,’ said Hoban.
‘What exactly would you have told me if we hadn’t been where we are now? The whole story, or just part of it?’ asked Zethun.
‘All of it of course.’
‘And what about when we questioned Capaea the first time, with Taevuka, when you knew them to be your spies? I suppose every bit of information they gave us was a red herring wasn’t it? Like she just said.’
He pointed to Capaea, who had come right up to the bars and was holding them, with her face pressed between two of them, grinning coldly as the two men argued. Clearly she was beginning to take some perverse enjoyment out of the situation.
‘Look,’ said Hoban. ‘I have used Capaea for many missions in the past and I met with her shortly after Princess Silrith’s arrest. I did what I did for the greater good. I know you feel betrayed but-’
‘-Betrayed doesn’t even cover it. How could you keep this from me this whole time?’
Hoban didn’t answer but simply shook his head apologetically as if he couldn’t find the words.
Zethun gave Hoban a last cold stare before turning back to face Capaea, who now feigned an innocent expression.
‘So, Capaea, tell me of this love letter that you stole that Lord Oprion might find so incriminating?’ Zethun sighed, breaking the silence. The edges of Capaea’s lips curled into a smile of stone.
‘Princess Silrith received it only weeks before her arrest it seems. Apparently, he was prepared to leave his wife for her; remove his wife even, then claim her fortune and marry Silrith, but it seems his feelings were not reciprocated.’
‘When Capaea brought the letter to me, its seal was broken,’ said Hoban. ‘Which proves that she must have read it. Anyway, I know that she did. She told me personally. She’d already seen Lord Oprion when I visited her in her cell. She evidently anticipated that he would need to be blackmailed if there was to be any chance of stopping him giving his whole-hearted support to the King.’
‘And you think he made his intentions clear at an earlier date and was persisting via a love letter after an initial rejection?’ asked Zethun.
‘Yes,’ Capaea replied.
‘So if his wife found out, a divorce would cost him his fortune and his estate. He might have even been found guilty of plotting to have Lady Haarksa murdered,’ added Hoban.
‘And now, for him, the stakes are even higher,’ Zethun said with a sigh, though making sure to keep a curt tone. ‘If the King found out about this letter, our friend Lord Oprion would very likely be seen as having allegiances with Princess Silrith. Something King Jostan will see as treason. It is obvious, therefore, why it might be fear of execution that causes Lord Oprion to be so desperate to recover the letter and destroy it.’
‘And ever since I took it, he has been desperate to find it. I suppose it was only a matter of time before his troops reached the Congressor’s house,’ said Capaea. ‘That’s why I was in the forum. I needed to get word to you.’
‘Why didn’t you just wait until I arrived home?’ Hoban asked.
‘I couldn’t stay,’ said Capaea. ‘When Lord Oprion’s soldiers came the first time and didn’t find me, I thought it unlikely they’d disturb a Congressor’s house twice. But they must have had a tip-off. When they came the second time I had no chance to hide. I had to kill them. Then I had to find you and tell you before they were missed.’
Hoban nodded.
‘So where is the letter now? The real one. Do you still have it?’ asked Zethun. Before either of them could answer, the door swung open and crashed against the wall as Oprion swept in.
‘Move over,’ he said. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I shall lead the questioning of the traitor.’
‘My Lord, why-’ Hoban said, but he was hushed by Oprion’s dismissive wave. Zethun was stunned by Oprion’s erratic behaviour. If Hoban and Capaea’s plan was to make him look guilty of treachery through his sheer paranoia, it was working.
‘Congressor Salanath,’ said Oprion. ‘You almost convinced me to put this, an issue that not only concerns my entire estate, but is also a matter of national security, in the care of you two men. Almost. But then I thought, what would the King think if something was missed; some important piece of information that you neglected to tell me, maybe? Maybe that would suit you? I’d rather not find out what the King would have to say about that. He could ruin me, or worse and all because of you. No, I will lead this myself and I will tolerate no
objections.’
Zethun was shocked by this outburst, let alone Oprion’s change of heart. This man was so changeable and seemed to care about nothing except for himself. Oprion asked one of the guards what had been said so far. The man told him everything, though the timing of the interruption suggested to Zethun that he’d been outside the door all the time, wanting to test their loyalty. It seemed there would be no hiding of any information; no cards Zethun could hold back against the nobleman.
Oprion looked surprisingly pleased with himself.
‘A letter? I knew it. I knew you weren’t to be trusted,’ he said, pointing at Hoban. ‘The letter, of course, is a forgery. You, Hoban Salanath, thought you could make a play for power, didn’t you? You thought you could pay a maid to plant a letter allegedly sent by me to the traitor, Princess Silrith, so that when it was found I would be punished and you would be rewarded. Maybe you would even gain my estate and wealth? Even though all the while it was you who had the letter written. But your compassion got the better of you. When the plan started to go against you, your lack of ruthlessness prevented you from seeing it through. Your sense of guilt moved you to take this spy into your home. Why else would you protect her?’
‘Because some of us have a sense of common decency, my Lord and do not think only of their money. You know the letter is genuine and the thought of the King seeing it fills you with fear,’ Hoban said, affecting a look of strength, unconvincing as it was.
‘Liar. My concern was over the alleged theft of the Amulet of Hazgorata,’ Oprion went on, unabated. ‘I’m sure the Dowager Queen has it but people will get in such a panic about these things. Some people are never happy unless they can spook the common folk with talk of poor omens.’
‘Then given that you seem so confident that this letter is a forgery,’ interjected Capaea. ‘How do you explain your erratic behaviour right now? Why are you so paranoid? We know the Amulet is not missing. Our other spy in the palace saw the Dowager Queen take it with her, while planning to claim that it was found in Hentani territory and knowing its alleged recovery would make the King look like a hero, just as the Hentani have feared for years.’