“I’m just a junior maitre, like Howal and Kaylet.” Dylert brushed the dust and ashes off his uniform, except some of the ashes left gray streaks.
Three maitres here … and you still almost died? Charyn had no doubts that, without Howal’s shields, he’d have been lying beside Churwyl. He walked carefully, very carefully, out of the armory and across the courtyard, under a clear sky, but his breath steamed, and the white sun offered little warmth.
He shivered, not totally because of the cold. How could Churwyl do that?
For all of the guard captain’s hateful words … had Charyn himself been cruel … or condescending? Enough for a man to blow himself up to get to you?
In less than half a quint, Charyn and Howal were seated at the table in the breakfast room, along with Chelia. Howal was drinking lager, alternating that with mouthfuls of bread. While Charyn didn’t care that much for lager, he was also drinking it, largely at the insistence of his mother.
Dylert appeared shortly. “I was sealing Churwyl’s room. I want to search it to see if there’s anything there that might tell us something.”
Charyn realized that he should have thought of that.
Chelia looked across the table at Charyn. “Why did you have to go after Churwyl yourself?”
“Once it was obvious Churwyl was involved, who else could I trust besides Howal? Also, once Churwyl left, I doubted that he’d ever be found again. I knew Howal had shields, and I had a pistol. I knew I could be accurate at short range. I don’t think anyone would have thought that he’d try to blow up the armory.”
“He couldn’t have done that,” said Dylert. “There wasn’t enough powder in the keg for that. If there had been, you and Howal wouldn’t be here.”
“If Howal hadn’t shielded me, there was enough to make sure I wasn’t here.”
“That was what Churwyl was counting on,” said Dylert. “I’ve been watching him. He calculates everything. He probably sold half the powder in the keg first.”
“What on Terahnar were you thinking when you confronted him?” asked Chelia.
“That I needed answers and that every time I’ve waited, the answers came too late.” That wasn’t totally true, but it was the way Charyn felt. “When I saw him coming with the knife, I just shot him. I could say I wasn’t sure that shields were proof against knives at close range, but I was just plain scared. So I shot him. Such a noble rex.” Charyn laughed harshly, then stopped. His ribs ached just with a single laugh. He looked at Howal. “You heard what Churwyl said, didn’t you?”
“He said he didn’t know who bribed him. Or paid him off. He killed himself trying to kill you. That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if his family or someone he cared about was threatened,” said Chelia.
“I didn’t think Churwyl had a family,” replied Charyn, adding after a moment, “Anymore. Not since his wife died in an accident last year.”
“It might not have been an accident,” suggested Chelia. “He never cared much for her.”
“But if his wife was dead…?”
“He only had one daughter, but she had two sons. He was proud of them. They live somewhere north of L’Excelsis. He never said where.”
“So whoever paid him also threatened his daughter and grandsons?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” mused Dylert.
“All this assumes that he knew I knew,” pointed out Charyn.
“A message comes from the Maitre,” Howal said slowly. “The courier won’t let Churwyl touch it and insists that it goes to you. Churwyl hears you coming. He already knew you were suspicious because of the way you questioned him after the attempted shooting in the courtyard.”
“He had to be the one who fired the shots. No one else could have.”
“He knew that, and when an urgent message came from the Maitre,” continued Howal, “that likely made him think that he might be discovered. So he went to the armory where he set it up to kill you. He must have guessed I’m an imager, because the only thing that might break through shields would be a large explosion.”
“He might have been trying to blow up the entire chateau,” said Chelia.
Dylert shook his head. “There wasn’t that much powder there, and the way the rifle cartridges are stored, an explosion wouldn’t set them off.”
Charyn took another swallow of the lager, bitter to his taste, but all lager tasted that way to him. Then he took his left hand and massaged his temples. “That still leaves me with more problems than solutions.” Such as which chateau guards I can trust, if any. He looked at Dylert, “How would you like to be acting guard captain, Maitre Dylert?”
“I wouldn’t, sir … but I’ll act as such until Maitre Alastar arrives. My remaining here is between the two of you.”
Chelia turned swiftly. “Is Maitre Alastar coming now?”
“Kaylet sent for him. He said the Maitre wouldn’t be terribly pleased at a second assassination attempt in weeks. Kaylet would also appreciate talking to you, Your Grace,” added Dylert.
“I think we should all go up to the study once you’ve had enough to eat, Howal,” said Charyn.
Chelia rose immediately. “I’d like to speak with you, Charyn, and Maitre Alastar, but after you have dealt with the more pressing matters.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Charyn replied, appreciating his mother’s withdrawal.
“Sir…” offered Dylert, “I think it might be best if I search Churwyl’s quarters immediately. Even if they’re sealed, given a little time…”
“Go ahead.”
Less than a quint later, Howal and Charyn were in the study, waiting for Dylert.
Before long, Dylert walked through the study door carrying something wrapped in a worn blanket and a cloth pouch.
“What did you find?” asked Charyn.
“Almost nothing. No papers. His uniforms and personals. A spare pair of boots, smallclothes, and this pouch and the strongbox under this blanket. The pouch was beneath his mattress. It has ten golds in it. I’m guessing, from the weight, that the strongbox has coppers and silvers in it, but I wanted Howal to help me open it.”
“You think it might have traps?” asked Howal, standing.
“I’d rather be careful after Churwyl’s last attempt. That’s why it’s wrapped and shielded.” Dylert carried the blanketed object to the conference table and set it on the end, then eased away the blanket, revealing a plain oak box with three iron bands around it. An iron bar, secured by a heavy lock, went through the hoops in the bands—except the lock was not closed.
“You didn’t open it?” asked Charyn.
“Considering that the lock wasn’t snapped shut, that was the last thing I wanted to do.”
“Except for the bands, it’s all wood,” said Howal. “We could just image off one end and hold shields.”
Dylert nodded. “You image, but shield yourself.”
Howal nodded and moved toward the table. “Ready?”
“Any time.”
After several moments, the end of the box closest to Howal and Charyn just vanished. Howal squinted at the opened end of strongbox. “There are coins in there, coppers, it looks like … and something else. It might be a knife.”
“There’s probably a spring under it,” offered Dylert. “I’m going to image away the top.”
The wooden top vanished, leaving the iron bands in place, and something flew from the box before hitting the invisible shields of the imagers and dropping to the floor. Both imagers waited.
Finally, Dylert bent and looked at the knife without touching it. “Needle blade. Smeared with something.”
“Poison,” said Howal, unnecessarily.
“Left for someone, possibly Bhayrn, to open,” suggested Charyn. “Is there a note inside?”
Dylert moved closer to the box. “No, but the coppers are smeared, too.”
“Can you destroy it?”
“There’s too much metal there to do that easily. Be better just to bur
n it and let the heat destroy the poison.” Dylert took a scrap of blanket he had either cut or imaged off and picked up the knife and dropped cloth and blade into the box, then carefully wrapped the blanket around the box. “I’ll take care of this after we’re done.”
The two imagers took seats across the desk from Charyn, and Dylert took the cloth bag and eased the golds onto the wood. “They’re new, all of them. The lettering is still clear, and they haven’t been shaved or clipped.”
Charyn picked up one and studied it. “That suggests someone who is very wealthy, most likely a factor with great holdings.” He put the gold down and watched as Dylert returned the coins to the bag and handed it to him. “What can you tell me about Churwyl that I should have noticed and didn’t?” Charyn addressed the question to Dylert, who sat in the chair nearest the window. Howal sat in the one nearest the door, leaving the one in the middle empty.
“I don’t know what you’ve noticed, sir.”
“I believe he was paid by families to hire their sons for guards. I have no way of proving that. He certainly lied to me about how he hired the traitors who killed my father. He’s the one who shot at me and Howal…” Charyn paused and looked at Howal. “That’s how he knew you were an imager. He wasn’t trying to kill me at all, but when your shields deflected the bullet, he knew. He shot at you as a warning to me, just the way he was probably the one who shot Bhayrn’s horse and the guard with Bhayrn. He wore that brown cloak over his uniform, shot the horses and guard then ducked under cover, leaving the cloak before emerging somewhere else.” He paused. “That’s what I know.” You should have seen it all earlier.
Dylert nodded. “Some of the guards are very good. Most are adequate. A very few I would dismiss. Churwyl may have been corrupt, but, for the most part, the guards are good at their duties. I cannot speak to their trustworthiness.”
“Are the ones you would dismiss the ones most recently hired?” asked Charyn.
Dylert shook his head. “I think a few have become lazy and complacent, but some are younger, some older. I believe he was taking a small part of every guard’s pay, from what I overheard, but without looking at the pay records, I could not tell.”
“We’ll see if the Finance Minister can shed any light on this.” He raised his voice. “I need to see Minister Alucar.”
“Yes, sir.”
Perhaps a third of a quint later, the study guard announced the minister. Charyn did not stand as the study door opened. He was both sore and irritated.
After Alucar entered the study, he looked quizzically at Howal and Dylert, who both had stood and moved to stand near the conference table, and then turned to Charyn. “Your Grace?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about Churwyl…”
“Yes, Your Grace. I did. I cannot believe it. I mean … it happened, but it seemed so unlike Churwyl. He was always so organized.”
“Who handles the pay for the chateau guards and staff? The actual records?” asked Charyn.
“Guard Captain Churwyl handled the pay ledgers for the guards, and Norstan handles the ledgers and pay for the rest of the chateau staff.”
“Did you ever notice any discrepancies in the ledgers or accounts for the chateau guards?”
“No, sir. His ledgers were always in order.”
“Thank you, Minister Alucar. That’s all I needed to know for the present.”
“Sir.” Alucar inclined his head, turned, and departed.
Once the study door closed, Charyn said, “It looks more and more like someone got to Churwyl.”
Howal and Dylert exchanged glances.
Picking up on their expressions, Charyn added, “Except there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
“He was an almost perfect marksman, wasn’t he?” asked Dylert.
Charyn nodded.
Before he could say more, there was another rap on the door.
“Maitre Alastar, Your Grace.”
Charyn didn’t even have to tell the Maitre to enter, because Alastar was on his way into the study, and the other imager who had been serving as a chateau guard—Kaylet—was with him.
Charyn couldn’t help but notice the worried expression on Alastar’s face, and, strangely, how short the imager guard’s fine brown hair was cut, or his narrow, but very-competent-looking face.
Alastar’s first words were not quite a command. “Why don’t we all sit down around the conference table?”
Charyn almost bridled, but managed to nod. He walked to the table, took the chair at the head, and seated himself. Dylert eased the blanket-wrapped trapped chest away and set it at the far end of the table.
Alastar sat to Charyn’s right, with both Dylert and Kaylet to his right, and with Howal to Charyn’s left. The Maitre spoke immediately. “Kaylet’s filled me in on what happened in the courtyard. What else do I need to know?”
“Churwyl had to be behind most of what happened here at the chateau.” Charyn went on to explain what he knew and surmised and what had happened leading up to Churwyl’s setting off the explosion, then said, “We were about to discuss what else might be involved.”
“Before we get into speculations,” Alastar replied, “you should hear what Maitre Kaylet has to say. That might add more information on which any speculation might be better based.”
Charyn certainly couldn’t disagree with that and nodded to Kaylet.
“Yes, sir. I don’t know if Maitre Alastar ever told you, but I’ve been the assistant stablemaster of the Collegium for the past two years…”
Charyn managed not to sigh. He had a feeling he knew the general nature of what Kaylet had to say.
“… I couldn’t help noticing some things. When oats were brought in, at least one barrel stayed in the factor’s wagon, and it appeared silvers changed hands between your stablemaster and the teamster. I also saw silvers pass between the stablemaster and the farrier…” At the end, the imager said, “Some of those might have an innocent explanation, but there were too many instances in the short time I’ve been here to believe they all were. No one’s teaching the stable boys to be ostlers, either. The stablemaster treats them like his personal servants, and they really don’t know the best ways to groom a horse. One of them almost gave near-freezing water to an overheated courier mount. Another didn’t refill the water buckets in the rear stable until I reminded him. A healthy horse needs to drink two of those buckets every day, and it’s best to make sure they have water within the two glasses after they get fed…” Kaylet broke off his words. “Sir?”
“Thank you. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve been discovering problems everywhere. You’re telling me that the stablemaster is careless, if not incompetent, and that he’s stealing as much as he can get away with. What about his assistant?”
“He drinks so much ale that he doesn’t notice. One of the serving girls brings a pitcher to him three or four times a day. I don’t know her name, and I felt it might be unwise to ask anyone who might know.”
“How did he get along with Guard Captain Churwyl?”
“They avoided each other as much as they could. I don’t think the guard captain cared much for the stablemaster. Most didn’t.”
“Is there anything else?” asked Charyn.
“Not about Stablemaster Keithell, sir.”
“What about Guard Captain Churwyl?”
“He was very formal with both of us, sir. He always wanted to know where we were. In a quiet sort of way.”
“Did he ever follow you?” asked Alastar.
“Not obviously. He did ask other guards where we were or what they thought about us. Some of them didn’t like that. They told us.”
“While you four are here, I think we need to talk to Stablemaster Keithell,” said Charyn. “Immediately. I think he should be escorted here by two guards who you think are trustworthy, Maitre Dylert. If that is agreeable to Maitre Alastar.” Charyn looked to the Collegium Maitre.
“Under the circumstances, I’d agree with Rex Charyn.�
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For that, Charyn was glad, because he was well aware that he had absolutely no power in the matter without Alastar’s approval. “Thank you.”
Dylert stood and made his way from the study. A half a quint later, he returned with two guards, one of whom was Yarselt, and Keithell.
Charyn surveyed the portly stablemaster, noting the fine quality of his leather vest and the linen of his shirt. He could also see perspiration on the man’s wide forehead, even though the study was not all that warm. “Just stand right there, Keithell.”
“Your Grace … I beg you…”
“For what? My forgiveness?”
“I’m a hardworking stablemaster, Your Grace. I attend the anomen faithfully and trust in the Nameless. I don’t beat my wife and children.”
“All of that may be true. It doesn’t merit forgiveness for taking bribes from factors, for letting them take full payment for grain measures that are short. You may not beat your wife and children, but you beat the stable boys. You also don’t teach them what they need to know, and the stable is not kept as it should be.”
“Your Grace … you can’t trust imagers. I’ve worked for the regial family my whole life. You’d put what they saw in a few days over what I’ve done in a lifetime?”
“Considering that those untrustworthy imagers have saved my life at least three times in the last month while you’ve been pocketing silvers from grain and produce factors and taking coins from your assistants … yes, I would put more trust in what they say.”
“You could not expect any more from a stablemaster than I’ve given your family for many years, Your Grace … I beg you.”
“Are you telling me to my face that you did not do any of these things?” Charyn’s voice was hard.
“I do the best I can, Your Grace. A man must do what he must…”
“That is the only thing you’ve said with which I agree.” Charyn shook his head. “Yarselt, take him out and lock him up in the guards’ brig,” said Charyn. “I’ll decide on his punishment after I talk to the Minister of Justice.” And after you look into a few other details.
Keithell said nothing as the two guards with Dylert seized then escorted the stablemaster from the study.
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