by N M Zoltack
“My good people,” he said without having to shout. The room was deathly quiet, deathly still. “Most of you are from Tenoch. Perhaps all of you are. I do not know if any of the other islands have representatives here. I was happy to come here. I had hoped to enjoy myself as you all did. Most of you do not know Rufus Vitus, and now, you will never have that chance.”
Marcellus inhaled, but his lungs burned, and he hardly felt as if he had gained any air. Still, he forced himself to continue, his audience captive.
“He was the type of man who could make anyone smile. He was a good man, a loyal friend, and a wonderful comrade. That a coward would sneak up and strike him down, literally stabbing him in the back, is unconscionable. Please, my good people, won’t you try to help me find his killer?”
He did not add that the killer was in their midst. The thought had to be in the forefront of their minds already. The ballroom was massive, the number of merrymakers in the hundreds. It was impossible to fathom that not a single one saw the killer make his or her strike.
One lady wearing black gloves that reached her elbows, her gown a blue that almost appeared black, stepped forward. “Rufus danced with both queens,” she said slowly. “Only the once with Queen Rosalynne. He was killed in her arms. She was so very shocked and confused when it happened. The young queen had no part in it.”
A few more stepped forward to give their concurrence. Slowly, the people began to try to cooperate with him, seeing him as on their side rather than him the evil enforcer. Perhaps now, he would get somewhere with them. He so hoped that to be the case.
3
Queen Sabine Grantham
The Ruling Queen of Tenoch Proper had never felt more useless or worthless. Everything was crumbling apart before her very eyes. She had been so excited, had planned a whole host of event for the course of a week. The ball was to start things off.
And another murder had taken place.
Already, her mother, Greta, had killed the prince. She had shoved Noll out of a window to fall to his death. To both appease her mother and keep her in check, Sabine had arrested a servant and locked him away in the dungeon. She hoped to learn more from him that might help her ensnare the throne from Rosalynne.
Truly, Sabine could not help but feel worried. The younger queen was whom the people expected to one day rule them. Only because she was not twenty-one years of age and unmarried were the people able to accept the rule of Sabine, who had only been married to the queen for a short amount of time before he passed away.
Also, Sabine was certain her mother wished for more and more power. As the queen’s mother, she felt that she could make demands of Sabine, something that irked the queen. If she knew her mother, and she did, her mother would not be happy with such a small role. No, her mother would wish for more and more say, more and more influence. Sabine worried and feared that her mother would be ready to kill again to gain even more authority. She wishes for me to go ahead and kill Rosalynne, but what is to stop her from then killing me to try to claim the throne for herself?
Under the advice of Aldus Perez, Sabine had hoped and planned on finding a Vincana to marry. Rosalynne had organized a joust but not invited any from the island to the south. Sabine had planned on having a joust in two days’ time and invited persons from all of the islands. Only Vincanans had come, and only the two, Marcellus and Rufus. Two guards had as well and of course their crew to guide their ship for the journey here.
Sabine had just made up her mind that the one she would marry would be Rufus. He did not care about politics. He would not get in the way of her ruling. She suspected and feared that Marcellus was too independent. He commanded authority far too much. He would have sought to rule alongside her, and that was no what Sabine wanted from her husband. All she needed was an alliance with Vincana so that the island would remain at peace with Tenoch.
She could not be more frustrated with this turn of events. Not only would Rufus be unable to marry her, but now, any alliance through Marcellus would clearly not happen. She would not marry a guard or a crew member or servant, so now, all of this planning and her high hopes were dashed.
The queen watched as Marcellus took over for her guards in questioning the lords and ladies. At first, he had been overly emotional about it, terrifying the people. Then, he gave a short speech, and the nobles began to respond more to him. He must learn to control his emotions or at the very least hide them better if he truly wishes to ever one day lead people.
Hm. She did not trust Marcellus enough to marry him. He could very well have come here to try to see how strong her hold on the throne was. But perhaps one way to appease the islands would be to appoint each one of them a subruler, someone who would report to her. That way, the islanders might feel as if they have more power.
Could she trust Marcellus in that rule? That would depend. For the moment, all that mattered concerning the Vincana was how long he intended to remain in Tenoch. She doubted he would wish to stay for long, given his friend’s death, or perhaps that will only serve to length his stay. Unless and until the killer is found, he may well determine that he was required to remain here until that matter was resolved.
At Marcellus nodded to a couple and before he could begin questioning a new party, Sabine glided over.
“Allow me to proceed,” she said calmly.
“Why?” he asked bluntly, without even bothering to look at her. “I am handling this rather well, and I would appreciate—”
“I would appreciate,” she said with only a slight sharp tone to her words, “that you not undermine my authority in front of my people.”
“Am I not one of your people?” he asked. “Was not Rufus?”
“You are, and he was. All the more reason for me to conduct this investigate myself. Personally.”
Now, the Vincana did turn to her, staring at her with a blank expression on his handsome face. “And you will investigate the matter as thoroughly as you did the prince. I think not.”
“I will have you know that we have arrested a suspect.”
“And not scheduled an execution which means you are not certain that is the guilty party. But why should that matter? Guilty or not, if a person is executed for the crime, the people will only become more endeared to you. Why delay?”
She opened her mouth.
The fool of a man cut her off before she could say a single word. “You wish to play games and be deceitful. That is on you. I will not allow this to be swept out with the thresh.”
“Certainly not,” Sabine said through gritted teeth.
The man was most infuriating. She understood well that he was grieving, but his lack of respect and his tone were not appreciated in the slightest.
“Where is the body?” she asked.
“Being taken care of.” He offered no other explanation.
The queen glanced around. She had thought so previously, but now, she was certain.
“Queen Rosalynne is not here,” she said triumphantly.
“She is not the killer,” the haughty man said with an airy wave of his hand. “She was dancing with him at the time. How could she have stabbed him in the back?”
Sabine grimaced. The man needed to be gone from her sight. She would not tolerate this insolence for long. Yet, she must be careful too. She could not risk angering him more than he already was. An alliance between Tenoch and Vincana had been the reason for the festivities she had planned throughout the week, festivities not now might not occur.
“The weapon, do you have it?” she asked. “Perhaps if we show it to the people, someone might recognize it.”
“I have thought of that,” Marcellus said, but then he stilled his tongue.
“And?” she asked impatiently.
“When there is a suspect, then I will draw out the blade.”
“You cannot kill the murderer with the same blade,” she said.
“Perhaps I will,” he said coldly.
She shivered but did her best to hide the reaction. This
man was not one to be trifled with.
“I am the Queen of Tenoch Proper,” she started.
“Rufus was my friend.” Marcellus said.
“You have no right—”
“You will have to lock me up in a cell if you think I will heed your words on this unless you tell me to do as I wish. Already, one Vincana is dead because of you. If another is imprisoned, you can be certain that war will befall your precious Tenoch, and there will no longer be a Tenoch Proper.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked, shocked by his brutality.
“If it needs to be.” He lifted his chin and stared down at you.
Sabine beamed. Now, this was a man. A true man unlike that bloated pig she had married. The king had been nothing but a gluttonous sloth, and she had not been able to stand him. Marcellus seemed ambitious and bold, daring and passionate. He would make for a fine lover. As for a king, well, maybe if he could soften some and learn to heed her words…
“You surprise me, Marcellus,” she murmured. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Do not worry. You have my full support. Whatever you need, just ask, and it shall be given to you. Even if what you wish for is the head of the person responsible. I am truly sorry that this happened, and I will endeavor to make this right.”
“Because that is what the queen should do or because that is what you think I want to hear? Does the threat of war frighten you?” Marcellus leaned forward and removed her hand from his. “Because it should.”
With that, the Vincana turned back to the crowd. Their entire exchange had been spoken in whispers. No one else gathered could have overheard them, especially since the nobles were whispering and talking amongst themselves. A few rushed over to Marcellus to bring him their version of the events.
Sabine merely stepped back and watched. She did not appreciate being thrust to the side, but that would not be the case for long. No. Soon, she would be wed to a Vincana, Marcellus or another. That threat will never be realized. All will go according to plan.
It had to.
4
Prisoner Ulric Cooper
The servant turned prisoner was weary. For hours now, the music from higher above floated down to Ulric. The music was not that terrible to listen to, but the laughter, the shouts, the people having a good time, that bothered him more than he cared to admit.
The reason for his imprisonment was based on a lie that everyone but the guards knew wasn’t true. Ulric hadn’t killed Prince Noll. If anything, Ulric had been friends with the prince.
Ulric didn’t mind too terribly being in the dungeon. He was trying to help the lovely Queen Rosalynne Rivera. The other queen would come down and talk to him, both trying to gather information from the other. It made for a boring life, but he was trying to help his queen. He would do anything for Rosalynne.
But hearing all of the happiness and joy above pained him. Which was ridiculous. As a servant, he might not even be working the ball. Yes, he knew all about the ball and joust and the festivities Sabine had planned. She told him all about them to rub in the fact that he was in the cell and could not enjoy the events. Again, as if he would have regardless.
But then, the cheers and laugher morphed into screams and shouts. The sound of chaotic commotion filtered down to them, and Ulric burst forward to grip the bars of his cell.
“What is going on?” he demanded of the guard.
Ulric had two guards, Col Hobbs and this man, a brute of a man with a large belly, a permanent nasty scowl, and a gap between his teeth.
The guard brought up his baton and slammed it against the bars, narrowly missing Ulric’s fingers. Knowing the man, he was not pleased that he hadn’t struck and struck hard.
“How should I know?” the guard snapped. “I’m stuck down here, watching you.”
Ulric backed up a fraction of a step. This guard, who never bothered to tell Ulric his name, sometimes would jab his baton between the bars to hit the prisoner. To say that this guard was a Rivera loyalist was an understatement. Then again, so was Col, but Col had a tremendous reason for it. Rosalynne had seen to it that Col’s sick daughter had been helped by the royal healers. Naturally, Col sided with Rosalynne over Sabine.
“You should have been killed already,” the guard grumbled. “Then, I could be off doing something important. If the queen only knew about you… I don’t understand why Queen Sabine has kept you a secret from Queen Rosalynne.”
Oh, this guard was very much ignorant. Rosalynne hardly dared to come visit Ulric in person anymore, but when she had, she had always only done so when Col had been the guard on duty. Col would deliver messages to and from Ulric to the queen.
“Now, Queen Rosalynne, she would have had you dead immediately. Would have had the most grandest of executions for you. Do you know how many executions she presided over for her father, the king? It would only be fitting for the young queen’s first execution to be for her brother’s murderer.”
The guard leaned back and then moved forward, spitting on Ulric. Disgusting.
The commotion upstairs continued for a long while. By the time it was beginning to settle some, footsteps sounded, and the familiar face of Col appeared in the slight darkness that always prevailed in the dungeon day and night.
“How’s the prisoner?” Col asked, approaching Ulric’s cell.
“Unfortunately alive yet,” the guard grumbled as he stalked away.
Ulric waited for the guard’s retreating footsteps to fade away before gripping the bars once more. “What happened?” he asked. “Is Rosa—Queen Rosalynne all right?”
Col glanced toward the stairs and waited a few minutes before talking, the only sound during that period of near silence the dripping of water from the ceiling in the one corner and the cracking of the fire from the torches on the walls.
“Someone was killed at the ball. One of the two Vincanans. Not the Marc guy. The other one. I don’t know their names.”
“Killed how? Another murder?”
“Oh, yes, another murder. Someone knifed him in the back. The queen is all right, don’t you worry.” Col smirked.
Ulric swallowed hard and could feel his cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. If the guard had picked up on his feelings for the queen, had she? Did Rosalynne know? Ulric knew it was ridiculous for him to love her, but he did. They could never be together, he knew and accepted that, but he only wanted to serve her. As of this very moment, he was doing just that, but one day, he hoped to be one of her guards.
That was how he had met the prince. Noll had caught Ulric with a sword, practicing how to use it. To prevent the prince from telling anyone because a servant having a weapon was punishable by death, Ulric agreed to teach Noll how to use weapons, starting with a bow and arrow, much to the prince’s disappointment. Noll hadn’t quite been like everyone else, but Ulric had enjoyed his company. Whenever the prisoner wasn’t thinking about the queen, he felt sorrow and guilt over the prince’s murder. Guilt not because he had killed the dear boy but guilt because he hadn’t been able to train the prince enough so he could have saved himself.
“She had been dancing with the man when he died,” Col was saying.
Ulric gaped at him. “That’s terrible,” he muttered.
“It is. I’m afraid war will happen now,” Col said.
The servant gasped. “War?”
“An ambassador from an island known for its warriors and strength has been murdered. Do you honestly think they will not be moved to attack and avenge their fallen man?”
Ulric rubbed his throat.
“You might hate the bars,” Col said, “but if war comes, you might be the safest of us all.”
5
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
The young queen was so very tired. Fatigue not from restlessness, and no amount of sleep could stir her. No, the tired she experienced was from the sense of claustrophobia washing over Rosalynne from constantly and unendingly being surrounded by death. A respite of some kind was what she needed.
Bei
ng a queen with no true power was frustrating to say the less, yet she felt as if her life was not her own. The peoples and their lives were more important than her own to the point that although months had passed since the baby, her father, and the prince had died, she had not probably grieved them.
What was grief? She wondered and worried as she left the castle behind. As of late, the castle did not feel like home, but a prison. Since she had turned ten years of age, Rosalynne had wished she had not been the eldest. She did not wish to rule. As much as she loved her brother, she knew Noll hadn’t the intelligence to lead the kingdom. And Vivian? She cared too much about fashion and dresses and gemstones and her hair to consider another’s feelings above her own.
The more Rosalynne thought of grief, the more she recalled her father in his final days. He had hardly been able to walk. Vaguely, she recalled that when she had been very young, her father had been of normal size. At times, toward the end, he would have to be carried on litters to enjoy a meal with them outside of his room.
Had his grief caused him to eat and eat and eat? Grief felt so very raw inside of her that most days, it was easier to ignore it than to give in. Instead, she tried to stay ahead of Sabine and Greta and Aldus and whoever might be plotting against her. She used ruling to keep her grief at bay. Perhaps her father had done the same with sustenance.
The latest death, that of the Vincanan Rufus, cut into Rosalynne deeply. Perhaps it was just as well that she had not gained total and complete ruling authority. This death would mean war between Tenoch Proper and Vincana, and the island to their south had been known throughout history to breed powerful, fierce warriors. It would not take them long to ferry their warriors over depending on how many ships they had.
Supposedly, a monsoon had wiped out a fair amount of their fleet. How fully had their fleet regrow after her father burned their boats and ships to ashes to prevent needless bloodshed when he forced the islands to merge with Tenoch under one kingdom? Had Marcellus lied about the ships? Had war always been intended by him? Rosalynne had always thought it odd that only two Vincanans had come. The guards and the crew members of their sea-faring vessel did not count, although perhaps she should speak with the guards.