The Queen's Tower

by J. S. Mawdsley

  “The identity of the target was obvious to him,” said Faustinus, “because he was the one responsible. He wishes to deflect suspicion.”

  “I’m not sure I’d put it past him, to be honest,” said Daryna.

  Caedmon’s scowl deepened. “There is no evidence tying the captain general to the crime.”

  “Oh, come on, now,” said Faustinus. “You don’t like him any better than we do.”

  “Indeed,” said Caedmon, “but that, in and of itself, is no reason to suspect him of murder.”

  “It seems like more than sufficient reason to me,” said Faustinus. “But I suppose you’re right. We’d better avoid making accusations until after we’ve heard what the guard captain and the sheriff have found.”

  “I believe I will go speak with them,” said Caedmon. “I will send a bird to Diernemynster, as well. The Freagast should be informed of what has happened here.”

  They had learned everything they could from examining Hildred’s body, so Faustinus went to tell the nuns to come in. As they laid out a shroud, he ushered Daryna out of the room to the nearest stairway. Out in the corridor, people were milling about, trading rumors in hushed tones. Most of the guests were leaving, though. Through the thin windows at the first landing, Daryna could see lines of soldiers at the gates, and dozens of nobles in their shimmering jewels and bright party clothes filing silently into the street beyond the walls.

  Faustinus stepped up behind her and kissed her neck. “Did you want to join me in my rooms?” he asked.

  She hadn’t really thought about where they were going, and she wondered if she should go find Nina and Anik, instead. Faustinus put a hand on her hip and then started lifting her skirt slowly. She gently took his wrist to stop him.

  “The queen might be leaving,” she said. “She might leave tonight, in fact.”

  “Why? Does she fear she’s in danger here? Duke Brandon and the king can post extra guards. You and I can check her food for poison before she eats it.”

  Daryna turned to face him, leaning against the window. “Do you really think Sir Broderick is the killer?”

  “He is my primary suspect, yes. I don’t trust him at all.”

  “Neither do I. He hinted that he wanted to take over part of our silver mines. I wonder if it’s all part of the same plan—to make himself king and expand the country.”

  “Possibly.” Faustinus slid next to her in the window and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re very wise not to accept his help. Stay as far away from him as possible.”

  “Yes, but you see, if my country isn’t getting any help from the Myrcian army, then the queen is right—we might as well go home.”

  “You don’t need the army. Let me help you.” With a finger, he lifted her chin, and then he leaned down and kissed her hard.

  She pushed reluctantly away from him. “What would you do to help?”

  He held out a hand. “Why don’t we go to my rooms and discuss this?”

  In just moments, they were on the third floor in his suite. “This is wrong,” she thought. “I should be looking for Nina. I should help Caedmon somehow. I should keep investigating Hildred’s death. I should....”

  Instead, she kissed him, pressing him back against the door as she started undoing his belt. He touched the laces of her bodice, and they untied themselves. She took in a long, deep breath as the gown started to slip off her shoulders. “Nice spell,” she said, grinning.

  “I’ll have to teach it to you,” he said, as she started at the laces of his trousers.

  “Maybe,” she said, nuzzling at his neck, “you can tell me what you’re going to do to help with our mines.”

  He picked her up and carried her over to a long, blue velvet settee near the window. He laid her down and started to slowly remove her shoes and stockings, caressing her feet and calves as he did so.

  “I suppose the first thing I would have to do,” he said, “is to come see these mines for myself. I might have to stay around for a while.” His hands slid farther up her legs. “I don’t suppose you’d mind, would you?”

  “Mmm...probably not.” She squirmed under his touch, willing his fingers to move faster. “You and me, sharing a tent. Just like....” She was about to say “like the old days,” but she realized that might spoil the mood. So instead, she sat up and kissed him again.

  “Just the two of us,” he said. “Working together. Sharing everything.” He lifted one of her arms to his lips and began kissing his way up it. “Everything will be perfect. The mines will be better than ever, and your people will remember you for all time,” he tugged down the bodice of her shift and started kissing her breasts. “They’ll remember you as the one who brought Loshadnarod into the modern world. Peace and plenty, and a strong new alliance.”

  “Alliance?” She looped her fingers through his hair and pulled his head up from her chest. “What sort of alliance are you talking about?”

  “It’s nothing to be concerned about at this point.” He started to pull off his trousers.

  She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him into a seated position. “We were talking about you and me, and now suddenly you’re talking about ‘alliances’ and ‘sharing everything.’ What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “Well...,” he smiled like a guilty schoolboy caught out of bounds. “I’m an amateur engineer at best. But I do happen to know the chief of engineers on the staff of the Proconsul of Terminia. Personal friend of mine, in fact. And I know the head of the Prefecturate of Mines, and I’m sure they could lend me a few fellows who would solve your problems in no time at all.”

  “Really?” Shivering, she tugged her bodice back up to cover her bare chest. “You want us to invite Immani soldiers into our country? Is that your idea?”

  “Don’t worry. It won’t cost you a single denarius. I know all the directors of the largest banks, and I can arrange for a loan at very reasonable interest. As security, you’d merely have to agree to share the output of the mines for...oh, I’d say a few decades or so.”

  She clenched her fists, fingernails digging into her palms. “Are you serious? Is this some sort of blasted joke, Servius?”

  “No.” He tilted his head to the side like a puzzled dog. “I’m trying to help.”

  “Your idea of help is military occupation and slavery to your damned Immani banks?” She pushed him away harder and rolled inelegantly off the settee. On the way, her right heel smacked him on the jaw, but she didn’t care. Then she knelt on the thick Sahasran carpet, trying to pull her clothes together and locate her shoes.

  “Daryna, I’m sorry. I see I’ve upset you.”

  “Well spotted,” she snapped. “Honestly, how dare you?” She got her shoes on and stood up, stuffing her stockings into a pocket. “Is that why you actually came here? Did you hear about our troubles with our mines and think, ‘Oh, I know how I can steal a share of all that silver’? Is that why you seduced me?”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “It certainly wasn’t the only reason.”

  “Go to the Void. You’re as bad as Broderick. No, actually, you’re worse.”

  He started to stand up, reaching for her, but she whispered a transport spell, and a second later she was standing in the little dressing room by the first floor privy. She honestly expected him to follow, and part of her hoped that he would, if only so that she could yell at him some more. Maybe slap him. But he failed to appear, and once she had finished cursing him thoroughly in her mind, she cursed herself, too, for being such a fool.

  “I have to find Nina,” she thought. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  Chapter 33

  MEREWYN REMOVED HER beautiful new gown, watching it slip to the floor and puddle at her feet. She was back in her tower now, though she could scarcely remember leaving the great hall. It was as if she had been sleepwalking. She nudged the dress with her foot, stepped out of it, and then kicked it aside. Perhaps she should be taking more care of Brandon’s gift, b
ut what did any of it matter now that she knew her own son had lied to her and betrayed her?

  He wanted her dead so he could marry the woman who’d sworn vengeance on her. He was clearly too stupid to comprehend that Averill Rosheen Howard had no real interest in him. Should Merewyn attempt to warn her son? Youth and lust had driven men to make terrible choices throughout history, and he would not understand a woman’s subtle manipulations. But no man in the throes of what he believed to be true love had ever listened to a warning from his mother.

  Merewyn could never compete with Averill for Maxen’s heart. Here she had been worried about Vadik’s influence over Maxen, when all the time there had been another, far more devious enemy that she hadn’t even known about. Vadik hadn’t needed to convince Maxen of anything, because Maxen had already wanted his mother dead. His interests and Vadik’s were perfectly aligned from the very beginning. Tonight, he would try to kill her again, and after she was gone, he would wed that minx and bring Myrcia to ruin. This was not what Fransis had sacrificed himself for.

  So, how could she survive this night and stop Maxen? She could raise the alarm, tell Ethelred what Maxen intended, but he would never believe her. Ethelred already knew about the Howard girl, and he apparently approved, because he obviously did not understand what the clever little bitch had planned. Merewyn could remind him how Maxen had lied about Averill’s true identity, but Ethelred wouldn’t understand how that proved their son’s guilt.

  As far as the threat from the Loshadnarodskis was concerned, she had no proof she could present of their desire to kill her. Anyone she tried to tell would only think her mad. Only Broderick might possibly believe her, but tonight, after Hildred’s death, he would be far too busy to spare a minute for his old stepmother.

  Well then, she could not warn anyone. She could refuse Maxen entry into her apartment, but she envisioned him crashing through the door and pouring Daryna Olekovna’s potion down her throat. And even if she could stop him tonight, he would never give up. He would return tomorrow night and the night after that. He would follow her to Formacaster if need be, until she finally forgot to guard herself for the single moment he and his fiancée required. Merewyn had to open her door to him, didn’t she? She could refuse the potion, but again, he would simply find another way to kill her.

  She needed another solution. No one would believe her son meant to kill her, and he would not stop trying until he succeeded. She had but one option—kill him first.

  “My lady?” Haley called from downstairs.

  Merewyn remembered only now that she had been quite annoyed with Haley back in the great hall. It was a wonder the girl had the temerity to come herself, rather than sending one of the housemaids.

  “Upstairs,” she responded. The night felt chilly now that she gave it any thought, and she hurried to the wardrobe for her dressing gown; Haley reached the room as Merewyn found it, and the lady-in-waiting helped wrap it around her.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I wanted to come, but I feared you would not wish to see me. I decided that I must at least come and apologize.”

  “I am glad you did come.” Merewyn paused in voice and movement. If she said it aloud, it would be truth, a truth as absolutely cold as the Void. She longed to be wrong, but if she were not, and she knew she was not, Haley was her likeliest ally, and she could not do this on her own. “He’s coming to kill me.”

  “What? Who, my lady?”

  “My son intends to kill me tonight; I am sure of it. That potion you saw Vadik pass Maxen from Daryna Olekovna is poison meant to kill me. The Loshadnarodskis want me dead for their own reasons, and Vadik wants Maxen as an ally, so naturally Vadik and that witch will help my son commit matricide. He wants to marry the daughter of General Howard.” She paused and faced Haley. “You do know who General Howard was, don’t you?”

  “He was the only other person implicated in the coup against the king when Fransis Sigor plotted to take the throne. His wife was, well, you told me she was your lady-in-waiting.”

  “Yes. And the Howards had a daughter who blames me for her father’s death and mother’s disgrace. And she has wooed my boy and brought him into her plot for revenge. He lied to me just two days ago about the woman he is seeing. He did not even tell me they were to be married, all because she has set him against me for her personal retribution.”

  “His pending marriage explains so much. Like why he’s been with Bishop Robertson so often, since the bishop will perform the ceremony.”

  Earstien only knew what other topics he had broached with her son. Maxen might know everything now—all her darkest secrets.

  “Averill Howard, or Rosheen Jones, whatever she wishes to call herself, will not have me at her wedding, I am certain. She wants me dead, and she wants Maxen to do it. He already tried, but he killed Hildred by accident instead. I will not die tonight, Haley. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, my lady, of course, but what will you do?”

  She squeezed her robe tight around herself and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the hardest words she had ever spoken. “We need to kill Maxen.”

  “‘We’? What? My lady, we cannot. We should tell the duke. His grace will keep you safe, as he has for all these years.”

  Merewyn started walking laps around the room. “He is in mourning for his sister. Besides which, he would think I have gone mad. There is no one we can tell who would believe us. I’ve already thought of everyone, and we are entirely on our own.” She walked straight to Haley and grabbed her shoulders. “You believe me, yes? You don’t think I’m mad, do you?”

  “As sad as it makes me, my lady, I think you are correct about the dangers to your person. But killing your son? Can you really do that?”

  “We must.” Merewyn dropped her hands and resumed her circular pacing. “The question is how. I don’t think we could overpower him, and certainly not before we attracted outside attention.”

  “If you are in earnest—oh, my lady—but if you are, then I can distract the guard that has returned,” Haley offered. When Merewyn gave her a questioning look, Haley blushed. “Sergeant Kaplan was outside when I came in. And, he, well, took a fancy to me as soon as he started. I never encourage him, I promise you, but tonight I could lure him away, at least for a little bit.”

  Merwyn wondered why the guard had returned after she had been told they all had the night off. But she supposed if Ethelred intended for her to leave soon, there was no point putting the magysk spell back on. Which was definitely for the best.

  “Good. Good. Yes, do that,” Merewyn said, nodding. Another time, she might have given Haley a stern, maternal lecture about this dalliance. Daughters of barons—even penniless ones—should not permit mere sergeants to flirt with them. But if this little romance benefited her, what did she care?

  “Now there’s the question of a weapon,” she went on. “Maxen is hardly a large man, but he could still overpower me. I’ve never been permitted anything sharp. Perhaps I could surprise him with a blunt object. Do we have anything heavy I can wield?”

  Haley looked wildly about the room. “Nothing I can see, my lady. And could you really beat your own son to death?”

  The girl would be shocked if Merewyn told her the things she would do to stay alive, especially now that Ethelred had said he would free her. But would he free her if there were no wedding to attend? And she saw no way to murder Maxen without Ethelred knowing she bore responsibility. Would he believe her when she claimed to have been defending herself? If she saw no use in telling him ahead of time, why did she think he might believe her when she explained afterward that she had no choice? No, if she killed Maxen, Ethelred would at best think she had lost her mind. At worst she would finally face the gallows.

  But then a fortuitous thought struck her. “Do you think you could get me poison?” Merewyn asked. “It would need to be administered from a bottle of wine no one knew had ever been in this room and would have to be removed from here before Maxen’s body was discov
ered. If he fell dead, who’s to say it wasn’t a reaction to the same thing that killed Lady Hildred? His murder would have the same few hundred possible suspects.”

  “Poison, my lady? I...well, I suppose I....” Haley fretted with her lace cuffs. “Oh, but I’d better not.”

  Clearly the girl knew something. “Haley, your father taught you a great deal about herblore and potion-making.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Haley stopped fidgeting and met Merewyn’s gaze. “You know he did.”

  “I’m going to guess your skills go far beyond mixing valerian and passionflower.”

  Haley blushed, but she did not look away. “Yes, my lady. I have...well, I have a few things set aside down in my room. Things I keep, just in case I might need them. You never know.”

  For the first time, Merewyn felt real admiration for the girl. “You are more equipped to survive at court than I realized.”

  “But I should go back to the palace and find a bottle of wine. I know which bottles and barrels were opened for the feast. I’ll get something from there that won’t be missed.”

  Merewyn graced her with a proud smile and a kiss on the cheek. “How have I not noticed for seven years that you are clearly the daughter I was always meant to have?”

  “You’re too kind, my lady.”

  “Go, my girl. Hurry back.”

  Haley curtsied and flew down the stairs.

  Merewyn made two more turns around her room before resting on the edge of her bed to slip off her leggings. Goose pimples sprung up on her bare legs. Rubbing her thighs, she hurried to the wardrobe to find slippers. She needed to make herself ready as quickly as possible, since Maxen could arrive at any moment. Once her feet were tucked into fur-lined comfort, she went to the mirror to arrange her hair. The first comb had somehow become intertwined with the teeth of another, so she yanked hard several times before both combs tumbled out with a fair amount of her hair still attached.

  Then the tears came, which she did nothing to check, knowing nothing would stop them. Her darling boy, the only flesh of her flesh. Was there really nothing else she could do? When he sat in front of her, when she saw his face, looked into his eyes, would she find the strength to pour the wine? She wavered, unsure of the answer, until she peered in the glass, transfixed by the river of tears running down her cheeks, and she knew how desperately she still wanted to live.