“I don’t know if it is perfect recall, but if I’ve seen something, I can remember it forever. Sometimes the details get lost, but once I remember they are there, I can see them,” said Kyra.
“Fascinating. I’ve read about such things. Very rare occurrence, and not one based in magic.” Marcus paused for a moment. “The studies I’ve read, the healers only learned of these individuals because they went mad. It was like they had an overload of information. Their brains could store more than they could handle. As if the brain was a glass of water. Normally, when you overfill a glass, an amount of water will spill out, but with these people, the water would keep piling up until the glass shattered. Do you understand my poor analogy?”
“Yes. I don’t know how others do it, but I have to organize myself. Put memories into big piles that go together. Otherwise things are always popping up. It is something I’ve learned to control.”
“How do you control it?” asked Marcus.
I meditate a lot, and in emergencies, I have a secret weapon.”
“A secret weapon, you must share.”
“I drink. A lot,” said Kyra.
“Yes, I suppose that could work,” said Marcus. “Now, how is your body feeling?” He gently pushed and prodded around her knee as he spoke.
“It feels good. Really good actually. Your salves must have done the trick.”
“Skin heals faster than bones, especially when the salve is applied to the skin. Your leg will look fine far sooner than the leg will be healed. At the present rate, I would say that you could be out of here in week or two.”
“A week or two? Can’t it be any sooner? I feel like I could walk on it right now.”
“Would you rather have a fully functional leg or live the rest of your life with a limp?” asked Marcus.
“Damn it. I suppose a week won’t hurt.”
“Trust me child, you don’t want to push it too hard. The alternative is we splint your leg up and you hobble around for months and possibly regain full function. A week here getting daily treatment is your best option by far.”
“Okay, okay. Message received.” As much as Kyra wanted to leave, there was really no point rushing it. Here she had everything she needed. A bed, food, water, security, and most importantly, access to the prince. With his help, she would solve the mystery soon.
“Good. Now, do you want some more herbs to reduce the pain and help you sleep?”
“Perhaps at night, but I need my wits about me during the day. I do have a request though,” said Kyra.
“What is that?” asked Marcus.
“I need parchment, a quill, and ink.”
“We have plenty available. I’ll have them brought to you right away.”
“Thank you. Oh, and Marcus, I’m going to need lots of parchment. At least a dozen sheets to start.”
“Is there anything else I can get you? I know that Prince Valentine wants me to assist you in any way necessary.”
“Now that you mention it, there is one more thing…”
…
Kyra was writing on her sixteenth piece of parchment when Prince Valentine walked into her infirmary room.
“Hello, Kyra, it looks like you’ve been busy. Sorry I took so long to get here today. Had a small crop crisis to deal with and then a formal dinner with the Ambassador from Bluvia.”
“Your Highness, good to see you. It is no problem that it took you so long. I needed some time to collect data and get things sorted in my mind. Now that you are here, we can really get something accomplished.” Kyra had been busy all morning and afternoon creating lists and sorting through others. She’d had Marcus send royal guards to all the shipping companies in Draisha formally requesting their manifests for the last year. She then went through all the records, comparing the companies’ normal shipments to those since the attacks started. She also made separate lists of all of the king’s associates and every wealthy member of Draisha’s elite. “Your Highness, I need you to look at this list. I want you to rank them in order from most wealthy to least, as to the best of your knowledge.” Kyra handed him the list and the quill.
“Sure, but what good will this do?” asked Prince Valentine.
“Humor me, it will become more obvious when we are done.” Kyra had a theory, but she needed a few more details before she dared to explain it.
Prince Valentine handed her back the list after having marked a number beside each name. Kyra didn’t look at it, she simply put it aside for now and gave the prince a new blank piece of parchment.
“Now, this next list you have to make. Name all the royal family members who could possibly make a claim on the throne if both you and your father were dead.”
“Do you want them in order of rightful succession?” asked the prince.
“Yes, and make sure to add all the names, even if their claim would be questionable at best.”
Patiently, Kyra waited while the prince scribbled down the list. When he was done she handed him another list. “I just need you to check this list, make sure I didn’t make any mistakes.” The list was of everyone that had suffered from attacks by General Vargas, from the murdered down to those whose property was stolen or vandalized. It also included all of his supporters who’d not yet been attacked.
“The list looks good. Except you have Owen Pickett a little too low. He was attacked but only suffered a small wound, and he lost a major caravan shipment traveling across the desert.”
“Right, my mistake.” Kyra took the list from the prince and put all of the lists if front of him. Now let’s see if we can narrow down our list. Circle the top five names from each list and see whose name shows up the most.”
“There are only two. Elise Vanderhoff and Owen Pickett. But Elise was killed and Owen barely survived. This list doesn’t help us,” said the prince in frustration.
“Here, take a look at this,” said Kyra as she handed Prince Valentine a stack of papers. “Start with the top sheet. I’d read it carefully.”
“This can’t be right. These numbers don’t match up with the tax records. I went over them myself a dozen times if not more trying to figure this mess out. Where did you get these numbers?”
“Those are the shipping companies’ manifests for the last year. I wanted to see if there were any large abnormalities in any of the companies’ shipments that would be explained by the attacks, and I wanted to see who lied on their taxes.”
“Did any of them lie?”
“Actually, almost all of them did, but not enough to quibble about. Except for one.”
The prince looked down at the manifests. “Yes, I can see myself that the size of these shipments, and the timing of them, is very suspect. Someone made a small fortune knowing which caravans would be hit.”
“That same someone who claimed substantial losses.”
“It doesn’t prove anything,” said the prince, but his protest was halfhearted at best.
“Here, let’s look at the big picture. Someone in Draisha hired General Vargas and has been carrying out an expensive campaign against you and all your associates. Now General Vargas isn’t your average run of the mill mercenary. He has a name and a track record. He is expensive. As is hiring groups of a dozen or more mercenaries at a time. So whoever is behind the attacks has enough money to afford such things and can do it in a way no one would even notice. So the odds are very good that the person we are looking for is on that list of wealthy citizens of Draisha, correct?”
“Yes, that makes sense. But that still leaves a long list,” argued the prince.
“Now exclude all the people who don’t have a shot at the throne if you die.”
“The list gets very small,” said the prince with a sigh.
“It is a list of one, Your Highness. And it is not only a matter of being able to gain the throne. I made a list of all the wealthy people who would lose money if you were able to implement all your reforms. His name is at the top of that list as well. There is only one man with enough money to finan
ce this terror campaign and no one has more reasons to do so than him. And I checked with Marcus. His ‘wound’ from his would-be assassination attempt was a thin cut on his arm. Every other target was hit with precision and deadly accuracy, except one. That man escaped with a minor injury. That man also lied to you about the shipments he’s been making, and has been profiting from your associates’ misfortunes. His shipments have been abnormal in comparison to his previous months, but they all were to places that were facing shortages because of the attacks.”
“Owen Pickett,” said the prince.
“Lord Owen Pickett. He has the means, the motive, and he has been lying this whole time. His attack was a subterfuge to throw people off his trail.”
Prince Valentine tapped the bed with his fist. “This is somewhat flimsy. I can’t accuse the man publicly, but I believe you. What do we do now?”
“I have an idea, but it depends how civil you want to be towards your cousin.”
“The man has paid for a terror campaign against my associates, murdered friends of mine, and has plans for my throne. I have no civility for that man. What have you in mind?”
“When Bazur is done dealing with General Vargas, he pays dear cousin Owen a visit. He gently persuades Owen to tell the truth.”
“I get the feeling I don’t want to know what gentle persuasion looks like,” said the prince.
“I suspect it is not pretty. After all, he is, as you say, a savage, and if it is true, that means Owen Pickett is responsible for trying to kill me, something Bazur will not take lightly.” It comforting to know that Bazur would protect her against any man, no matter how rich or powerful.
“Have I ever told you that you are a dangerous woman? Make it happen. I will expect a full report when this is over. This was impressive work you did, Kyra. What made you decide to check the shipping manifests?”
“It was something Bazur said. “Greed is a great motivator.” I decided that if it was me planning all these attacks, I would make sure that I profited from them. The caravans were by far the biggest sources of income lost and your tax records indicated that. But what if someone was lying about the caravans and how much they lost. So I checked the shipping manifests. After that it was a matter of connecting the facts and ruling out other possibilities. If it weren’t for the fact that she is dead, I would’ve had a hard time ruling Lady Vanderhoff out. But the manifests were what did it.”
The prince scowled. “Greedy bastard couldn’t suffer like the rest. I wish I could kill him myself.”
“I think he’ll suffer more this way,” said Kyra.
“True.” The prince broke out laughing. “That poor bastard. He doesn’t know what is coming for him. He’s been a chicken shit since he was a little boy. Acts tough and rough, but I’ve seen him in battle. He is a coward at heart. He’ll think that telling the truth about hiring Vargas will gain him mercy. He’ll be so focused on the crown and the money, it won’t even register that he’s admitting to having paid Vargas to try kill you.”
It surprised Kyra to hear the prince laughing. The death of Owen Pickett was no laughing matter. Kyra didn’t take lightly the offer to have Bazur interrogate the man. But the prince had been under a significant amount of pressure the last few months because of his cousin’s evil plots. Perhaps his laughter was only a result of that pressure?
“Kyra, I can’t thank you enough. Knowing that this ordeal is coming to an end is a relief beyond imagination. I will leave you now, but I will be back to discuss what it is going to take to keep both you and Bazur working for me. There must be something I can do to facilitate that outcome. In the meantime, I am going to bed. I think I might be able to sleep the night through for the first time in months.” The prince took Kyra’s hand and kissed it. “I am in your debt.”
As the prince walked away, Kyra cleared her bed of all the parchment. She too needed some sleep. While the magic salves Marcus had given her might be healing her wounds faster, they weren’t doing anything to counter the lingering effects of his pain dulling herbs. They seemed to exhaust her. The only thing that kept her going all day was the desire to finish her investigation. All night she’d dreamed about Bazur’s comments about greed and in the morning she knew what to do. Now that the mystery was solved, all she wanted to do was sleep. Kyra lied down, shutting her eyes but sleep didn’t come. If anything, she was now overtired and her body was confused. “Damn it,” she swore.
“Everything alright?” asked Marcus as he popped his head in her room.
“I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep.”
Marcus nodded and disappeared again. Moments later, he returned with a jug and two glasses. “It is perfectly normal given the circumstances to have sleep issues. Your body needs rest, but you pushed your mind hard today. The two are now in conflict. I spoke to Prince Valentine. He seemed more relaxed than I’ve seen him in months. You’ve had a breakthrough on your investigation?” said Marcus as he poured two glasses full.
The drink was a golden amber fluid. Kyra eyed it suspiciously, more herbs? she pondered. When Marcus handed her the glass she said, “It was a good day. I think we made progress.” If the prince hadn’t shared the details with Marcus, then Kyra wouldn’t as well. It wasn’t proper to reveal her suspicions to anyone but the prince. Not until Bazur interviewed Lord Pickett. What is it? Another sleep concoction?”
“Yes, but this one is from my personal stores. Beruvian brandy, aged twenty years in oak barrels.”
Kyra sniffed the drink, it smelled fine. “No herbs?”
“No. I could add a pinch if you like, just enough to help you sleep. The last dose I gave you was very strong so you wouldn’t thrash about in your sleep. Usually, the herbs don’t affect a patient the way they did you. Normally, you would wake up feeling refreshed and not groggy and feeling drugged. Again, a necessary part of your treatment, but not an indicator of how the medicine works under normal circumstances.”
“Perhaps just the smallest pinch then.”
“A wise decision. The brandy is nice, but the herbs help your healing more. I rather like the herbs myself. After a long day, I’ll add a small pinch to my tea… or brandy if it’s been a really long day.” Marcus took out a small pouch and put the tiniest pinch of herbs in both their drinks. He gave Kyra a wink. “I could use a good night’s sleep as well.”
Kyra took a sip of her brandy and herbs. The strong liquor warmed her throat, but didn’t have the strong aftertaste of cheaper drinks that she was accustomed to. The aging must smooth it out a bit, mused Kyra as she took another healthy sip. “Tell me Marcus, what do you think of the prince wanting to reform the kingdom?”
“I think that Prince Valentine has a long hard row to hoe. These attacks show that there are those in the kingdom that don’t want change. In fact, I believe there are many that feel that way, especially among the noble class. The merchant class are more on the fence. They would love to see taxes lowered, or even just used in a way that benefits them, but they are leery of things like magic. There are so many stories of the lands to the west that frighten them. Mages so powerful they control flame and ice with a wave of their hand, dragons flying about, evil sorcerers and witches living in dark forests.”
Kyra chuckled. “Old wives’ tales, I’m sure.”
“No,” said Marcus. “All the stories have at least a degree of truth to them. I’ve seen the skull of a dragon myself, and have met mages that could do more than just control the elements, and there are dark places where one simply does not go. And evil can be found everywhere, magic is not inherently evil or dangerous. It is all in the heart of the man or woman wielding those powers that dictates good versus evil. Magic could do much for the kingdom. The infirmary could heal twice as many people, reduce sickness and pain, things beyond the scope of my knowledge and power. I’ve seen farmers’ fields imbued with magic that grew amazing crops in the middle of a drought. I’ve seen records of great wars where mages protected entire cities from invading forces.”
“Fascin
ating. I never believed in the stories of dragons and other creatures of the dark. I can see removing the restrictions against magic use being a good thing. But what else does the prince intend to change? Why are the nobles so against him?”
“Draisha was built as a slave society. For hundreds of years it thrived that way, it was only three generations ago that there was the great uprising of slaves that forced the then king to grant freedom to all slaves. The result of that is the society we see today in Draisha. A large peasant class that faces starvation and poverty in the worst of time but can find a roof of their own, but also a working class that live in relative wealth compared to their forefathers. So while conditions aren’t great for the poor here, most of them understand that the conditions have improved under the Astar family’s rule. Many the older nobles grew up in the shadow of those years, when nobles had nearly unlimited power over the masses. Many believe that it is their divine right to rule, that their breeding makes them superior to everyone else, and that the last few generations of kings in Draisha went too far in appeasing the peasants. Many of those nobles would like to go back to being slave owners. For them, reform is weakness and to be despised.”
“That explains the nobles not wanting reforms, but it doesn’t explain the merchant class and peasantry not wanting reform. They should be all for it, should they not?”
“There are many that are for reform, they would welcome it with open arms, but there are also many that see reform as change. Draisha is in a delicate balance right now. The nobles and peasantry live in relative harmony. There is peace, but reform could push things out of balance. Many see the actions of General Vargas as being only the beginning. They believe that as the prince pushes for reform, the nobles will push back and push back hard to regain their previous power.”
“I never realized the history of Draisha was so complicated. It has been relatively peaceful the years I’ve lived here. It is a dangerous city, full of criminals and mercenaries, but I’ve seen far worse. So if you were the prince, how would you go about making your reform so that you don’t cause a revolt?”
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