by Hilari Bell
They finally found their quarry in the Falcon’s office. Kenton stood guard in front of the door, but after one look at Arisa’s face he stepped aside.
She had intended to ask a favor. She’d intended to be meek and ladylike. But now that the moment had arrived, all the grief and guilt and fear came flooding back. Arisa turned the knob and threw the door wide.
“How could you arrest them without telling me? I’m responsible for this!”
In this office Justice Holis sat in front of her mother’s desk, leaving the position of power to the Falcon. And tonight, unlike her daughter, the Falcon wore the white britches and dark blue coat of the commander of the king’s army. It gave her even more authority as she rose to her feet.
“Come in and sit down, Ris. Bring Weasel in with you.”
“Good luck trying to keep him out,” Holis muttered.
Weasel caught the words, and flashed his mentor a cheeky grin.
As soon as the door closed, the Falcon spoke. “I didn’t tell you because I received the proof we needed in the middle of evening court. With a known traitor in the palace I didn’t dare risk this kind of scene in public. I didn’t tell you afterward…”
Her shoulders slumped, and she sank into her chair. “I didn’t tell you afterward because I thought it would be harder for you to know about it in advance. Because I could see you were fond of these people, and if you knew…”
Her eyes narrowed suddenly. “How did you know they’d been arrested? The palace guard took Ethgar after you were in bed. Did that gossipmongering maid tell you?”
Arisa couldn’t let them blame her innocent maid. She opened her mouth, but Weasel spoke first.
“Could you tell us what proof you found? Or is that still a secret?”
“It seems very little is secret from you,” Justice Holis said mildly.
Weasel shrugged. “Arisa came to me.”
Arisa paused to admire that masterful prevarication, then she added, “I’d like to know too. If it isn’t secret, I think I have a right to know.”
The Falcon and Holis looked at each other.
“It is confidential,” said the Falcon slowly.
“But you’ve proved that you can keep secrets,” said Justice Holis. “And you do have a right to know. We’d never have looked there if you hadn’t put us on the right track.”
“Looked where?” Weasel asked. “What track?”
Holis considered the matter a moment longer, then nodded. “We had the guard search Ethgar’s palace quarters, then his house in town. There was nothing here, but in his house we found… Well, to make a long story short, the man who’d killed Mistress Katrin tried to flee. When the guards captured him, he confessed.”
“Thus avoiding hanging?” Weasel asked bitterly. “Even though he murdered one woman, and would have killed us if he’d caught us?”
Justice Holis sighed. “We need his testimony against Ethgar. In fact, his testimony is the only evidence we have, though we may find more now that we know where to look. But according to your stalker—he was originally from Ethgar’s country estate— Ethgar wanted to take the regency from me and my allies, and he paid Katrin to… ah…”
“To publicly embarrass me,” said Arisa. “It’s a lot safer than trying to publicly embarrass my mother. And Ronelle was helping him. I should have thought of that.”
“From what we can determine,” said Holis, “the lady Ronelle’s actions were her own choice. Her father would have preferred for her to dislike you far less obviously. Of course, she may have been influenced by his dislike.”
So Ronelle had hated her for her own sake. That was only fair, since Arisa hated her back. “But why kill Katrin?” Arisa demanded. “She was doing the job.”
The Falcon snorted. “When he caught you and Edoran tumbling in the hay, he evidently decided the job was done. And when Holis fired all the tutors—Giles and the others were originally working for Pettibone, but when he died, they transferred their allegiance to Ethgar—it frightened him into taking the matter more slowly. According to his thug, when Ethgar stopped paying her, Katrin tried to blackmail him and he ordered her death. According to Ethgar, his bribe to Katrin was in response to Arisa’s disrespect for his daughter, and when she tried to blackmail him, he ordered his henchman to only frighten her off. Nothing physical at all, according to Ethgar.”
Weasel frowned. “Why did he think he could take the regency at all?”
“He’s one of the prince’s kinsmen,” said Holis. “One of the closer ones, in fact. And he evidently worked closely with Pettibone as well. More closely than I’d realized. We’re going to have quite a time, figuring out who his allies are.”
“But why did you arrest the Mimms?” Arisa asked. “This has nothing to do with them.”
“Not that we’ve found so far,” Justice Holis admitted. “But since you spotted Master Darian there, we sent… a certain individual, who’s been observing matters for us in and around the docks, to visit your tavern.”
Weasel smiled. “Should I assume this individual has been trying to figure out who’s working with the pirates?”
“You can assume anything you like,” the justice replied. “But there we got our break—he recognized the door keeper, Stuart Collings, as a man he’d seen visiting the docks many times.”
Stu. Arisa’s heart throbbed once, and began to ache. How could he? How could he do such a thing?
“Our observer had already noticed the man, for whenever he appeared he’d visit some small ship, which would then set sail with the next tide.”
“You weren’t watching him just for that?” Weasel asked.
Holis sighed. “It’s not unusual to visit someone on a ship before it departs. But combined with Mistress Arisa’s information, we felt we had sufficient cause to arrest them, search the tavern for evidence, and start extracting information from them.”
“Extracting information.” Arisa felt the blood drain from her face. “You don’t mean…”
“Of course not,” said Holis, shooting the Falcon a firm look. “Deorthas is a civilized realm. But we can and will bargain for information. And though I’m sorry if it troubles you, my dear, they must pay for any crimes they’ve committed.”
“But you don’t know that they did anything at all!” Arisa’s heart was pounding.
“Don’t look so frightened, love,” said the Falcon. “We’ve already agreed that the Mimms will be allowed to give us information about the conspiracy in exchange for leniency in sentencing. If they tell us enough, they might avoid all punishment.”
“Unless they knowingly assisted the pirates in raiding those villages,” Holis put in. “If they had a hand in murder, they have to pay.”
“Agreed, agreed.” The Falcon made a casual gesture. “But the officer who arrested them tells me that Master Mimms seemed genuinely surprised and appalled when he was charged with abetting pirates. So whatever they’re up to, I don’t think you need to worry too much about your friends.”
“The Lady be praised.” Arisa blinked back tears.
Weasel, however, was still frowning. “That doesn’t explain what Master Darian was doing there. Or how Katrin was involved with them.”
“They were her family,” said Arisa. “It might have been a coincidence that she went to visit them that night.” But it didn’t seem likely.
“We should find out soon,” the Falcon told them both. “If they aren’t involved with the pirates, it seems a pity to destroy the whole family. And the Mimms family has a long history of service to Deorthas, to the palace itself.”
Katrin had gotten her job in the palace because of that connection, Arisa realized. That was how her maid had been hooked into the conspiracy, and she had brought Arisa into it. It was all… connected.
“But Pettibone’s dead,” Weasel pointed out. “Did everyone start working for Ethgar once Pettibone was gone? And whatever else he did, the pirates aren’t Pettibone’s fault.”
“There are some,” said
the Falcon, “who say that the pirates are Justice Holis’ fault. And I still want to know—”
“That’s rot!” Weasel snapped. “The pirates are their own fault. You can’t blame someone else because they suddenly got the bright idea of raiding ashore.”
Arisa looked up at the portrait of Regalis, hanging to one side of her mother’s desk. She wanted no part in this quarrel. How far back had Baylee said the Mimms’ connection with the palace reached? Centuries? King’s Folly. Connections.
“I’m afraid that’s not true,” Justice Holis told Weasel. “Raiding ashore is a change in their pattern. Something, someone, must have caused it. And if it was Ethgar, I’d very much like to know how he managed it.”
“And I,” said the Falcon, “would very much like to know how the two of you found out about this arrest. Which took place after you were in bed. Did you expect me not to notice that your hair is wet? Come on, Ris. Talk.”
They’d be saying that to Baylee’s family soon, and in much less loving tones.
Baylee’s family, whose connection with the palace was centuries old. Who really weren’t of the class that produced palace servants, and whose cellar held a chest…
She had thought that story about Regalis walking home naked was so ridiculous it couldn’t possibly be true. It still might not be true, but if she wanted to divert her mother from what she’d been up to, this was a magnificent distraction.
Arisa lowered her gaze from the portrait and met the Falcon’s eyes.
“I’ve found the sword of waters.”
CHAPTER 15
The Four of Stars: the craftsman.
The good that comes not from nature but from men’s work.
They went to get the sword first thing the next morning—Holis said if it had kept for several centuries, it would keep for one more night.
If he’d actually thought she’d found it he might have been in more of a hurry—Arisa knew her mother would have been. But her announcement did break up the meeting, distracting the Falcon from further inquiry.
As for Arisa herself… Nothing could be confirmed until Edoran examined it, but she was oddly certain that she was right. The connections were there.
And the connections between Ethgar and Master Darian and the pirates would probably be just as obvious, once they knew what they were.
The grooms wondered at having to saddle so many horses, so early, and in the rain, too. Sammel was doubly surprised when Arisa asked for an older, more placid mare instead of Honey. It could have been worse; only Holis, the Falcon, Weasel, Edoran, and Arisa herself made up the party, along with a couple of palace guardsmen for the prince’s prestige, though they hardly seemed necessary.
Few people were on the streets, and they walked swiftly, bundled into coats and cloaks with their hats pulled low. They barely noticed the small troop of riders.
It would have been different, Arisa knew, if Holis had believed her. He’d have brought half the court as witnesses, and half the palace guard as well. This small audience was to spare her embarrassment when she failed, and Arisa was grateful. Even if she was right she didn’t want an audience, and if she was wrong… She shuddered.
It took less time to cover the distance on horseback, and soon they pulled their mounts to a stop at the tavern door. A padlock with an army seal over the keyhole held it closed.
“I thought I’d forbidden you to go into this tavern again.” The Falcon’s voice was deceptively mild.
“I didn’t go in,” said Arisa. “I found the sword by remembering—well, several things I saw and heard over the last few weeks.”
“I wish you’d let us know where we were going,” said Holis. “I don’t look forward to waiting in this weather while someone goes to fetch the key.”
“We don’t need to wait,” Weasel told him. “I can—”
“I’m sure you could,” said the justice. “But I’d prefer you didn’t demonstrate it quite so publicly.”
“Why not?” Weasel glanced at the guardsmen, who looked bored and miserable. Their uniform coats were neither waterproof nor winter weight. “They don’t care. No one—”
“No one has to go inside,” Arisa interrupted. “The sword is here.”
All eyes turned to her, astonished, then turned away, searching the narrow, shabby street.
Edoran was the first to see it. “You’re joking,” he exclaimed.
“I don’t think so,” said Arisa.
“But… the sword of waters, holding up a tavern sign?”
“Yes. Just like any other hunk of metal, though it wasn’t that way in the beginning,” Arisa told them. “This was intended as a place of honor.”
And it would have been good advertising, though it seemed foolish to say that to the prince who might soon be asked to issue pardons for Baylee’s family.
Arisa guided the steady mare she’d chosen to a stop in front of the sign, and freed her feet from the stirrups. She had to stand on the saddle in order to reach the hilt. When she gave it a yank the sign swayed, and Arisa nearly lost her balance. The mare snorted.
“Hold on a minute.” Edoran pulled his horse into position beside Arisa’s, and the Falcon dismounted to hold both sets of reins as the prince stood on his own saddle to study the sword. “This has been painted. And the rings have worn notches in the blade.”
Now that he’d pointed it out, Arisa saw that the iron links had worn grooves into the blade’s thin edges, both top and bottom.
“Lift up the sign,” Arisa told Edoran, and with a grunt of effort he did.
The sword felt looser now, but Arisa had to work the links out of their notches before the blade rasped free.
The sign crashed to the cobbles, cracking in two places, and both horses shied.
Arisa managed to fall more or less into her saddle as the mare leaped sideways. Edoran didn’t, but the Falcon grabbed one of his shoulders on the way down, so his feet hit the ground first.
“It was heavy!” the prince panted.
“No harm done,” Holis assured him. “Even in the best case, it will be some time before the King’s Folly reopens.”
“They have another tavern sign in the cellar,” Arisa said. “With another name on it. That’s one of the things that started me wondering.”
Weasel, who’d kept his rump safely in his own saddle throughout, grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about that— what was the word you used, “Ridiculous”?—that ridiculous story about Regalis walking home from a tavern naked, because he gambled away all he had with him.”
Arisa decided not to mention the trunk of clothing in front of the hidden room. Or the shoes, with the gems pried out of their heels. Regalis wasn’t the only nobleman who’d worn jeweled shoes.
“There’s only one way to know.” She turned to Edoran. “Is this the sword, Your Highness?”
“How should I know?” said Edoran, exasperated. “It’s been painted over. Several times, from the look of it. They were probably trying to keep it from rusting, but water got in where the links wore through. There’s a layer of red paint under the black, and under that…” He was chipping it away with his fingernails. “Under that it looks like they painted it gold. Why put gold paint on a steel sword?”
“Because it didn’t look rich enough, fancy enough, to suit commoners’ notion of a legend,” said Arisa, feeling oddly sure. “Those old Mimms could never have convinced their neighbors, their customers, that such a plain blade was the fabled sword of waters.”
Holis was beginning to look intrigued. “But why didn’t they turn it in for the reward?”
“They’d probably forgotten,” Arisa told him. “I don’t think Master Mimms and his family had any idea that this was the real sword.”
“No, I mean the original owners. Why didn’t they turn it in?” the justice persisted.
“I can think of three probable answers to that,” Weasel said as he handed Edoran a penknife. The paint chips fell faster. He was working on the blade, Arisa noted, starting at
the base and scraping toward the tip.
“What reasons?” the Falcon asked Weasel. She had mounted again, and was warming her hands on her horse’s neck. “Why would anyone refrain from turning it in?”
“First, because they were the ones who stole it, and they were afraid they’d get caught,” Weasel replied. “They might not have realized how much anger they’d stir up when they took it, and when they finally understood, they decided it was better to give up the money than risk hanging to claim it.”
“That makes sense,” said Holis slowly. “Though I have a hard time believing such bold thieves would suddenly become sensible.”
Weasel shrugged. “The next possibility is that there was no theft. That Regalis knew exactly what had happened to the sword and never offered a reward because he thought he could win it back.”
“That’s nonsense,” said the Falcon.
“Is it? Every gambler I’ve ever known is convinced he’s going to win it all back. We already know that the investigation into the burglary was false, and that’s where we first read about the reward. The diaries I’ve been reading say very little about the disappearance of the sword and shield, and those that do mention it say that the king ‘wasn’t much concerned with the matter.’ It only damaged his popularity in the countryside, and Regalis never cared about that.”
There was a thoughtful silence.
“And the third possibility,” Weasel finished, “is that it’s not the sword of waters after all.”
“But it is.” Excitement rang through Edoran’s quiet voice. “This is the true sword, given to King Brend in recognition of his father’s sacrifice.”
The Falcon’s mare snorted and tossed her head, as if a hand had suddenly tightened on the reins.
“Are you sure of that, lad?” Holis demanded. “I mean… I can’t… Holding up a tavern sign?”
“The mark is there,” said Edoran, “just as my father described it.”
Dizzy relief swirled though Arisa’s blood, but she wasn’t surprised.