The King's Assassin

by M.M. Brownlow

  Chapter 21

  Later that day, Jackob arrived in the Bacovian capital city. He and a small group of handpicked guards had made excellent time, covering the distance between the two capitals in just a little over four days. They managed that by traveling very lightly, so that they had no wagons to slow them down. Due to that fact, the only thing to identify him as royalty at all was the flag carried by one of his guards, the quality of his clothing, and the small crown encircling his brow.

  Jackob was an imposing man, still obviously fit and strong despite his advancing years. He and Tarren had been roughly the same age, but the physical differences between them were astounding. Jackob had kept up a routine of regular exercise, unlike Tarren, and it showed. It was also obvious that Aislynn got her looks from him. He had straight brown hair, now going to grey, and brown eyes, just like she did.

  As he dismounted, two of his six guards and his fox, Daki, joined him. The four of them made their way up the stairs to the great double doors and through them into the castle, where organized chaos greeted them. There were guards and servants everywhere, moving purposefully about their business. There were also healers, and here and there, a courtier was seen rushing somewhere. Jackob stopped just inside the entrance, waiting to be noticed and trying to avoid being trampled.

  “Greetings, your Majesty,” said the chamberlain a few minutes later, taking in Jackob’s appearance and reaching the correct conclusion. “Welcome to Eaglecrest.”

  “Thank you,” he replied. “May I ask what is going on here? It seems very busy for a castle in mourning.”

  “Ah…yes, your Majesty, about that…” the chamberlain stuttered, not really knowing how much information to divulge.

  “There is obviously something, and I’ll find out one way or another, so you might as well tell me yourself.” Jackob glared at the chamberlain, very sure of himself and his ability to get answers.

  “Well,” started the man, deciding that it was likely better that he be in control of the flow of information, “there was an attack this morning.”

  “An attack? Is his Majesty okay?”

  “Oh yes, he’s fine. Not a scratch.” The chamberlain was obviously very comfortable with answering this particular question.

  “And the princess?” Since Jackob was familiar with the situation here in Bacovia, not to mention the father of the aforementioned princess, he had asked the next logical question.

  The chamberlain paled a little, definitely not wanting to answer this question. He’d noticed the livery of the guards, and he knew who this was.

  “Why don’t I take you to her, while the chamberlain prepares a suite for you, your Majesty,” said a voice coming up beside him. The chamberlain looked relieved to see the man, and happily scurried off. “We are quite busy here with the arrival of the foreign delegates for the funeral.”

  Jackob turned and noticed that a short, muscular man had joined his little group. The man bowed at the waist, his eyes never leaving the king’s face, as sure of himself in his own way as the king was.

  “Greetings, your Majesty. I am Byron, Captain of the royal guard. If you’d just follow me, please.”

  Byron turned and headed toward the stairs, automatically making room between himself and the king for the king’s eesprid. Jackob noticed this, and concluded that his man had likely been spending some time with his daughter and Cheta. Therefore, this was likely someone who would know the information that he wanted. It was good to know that Aislynn had confirmed Rupert’s opinion of the man, at least indirectly.

  “So there was an attack on Eryk and Aislynn got hurt?” he asked.

  “No, your Majesty, not exactly. Eryk is fine, just as the chamberlain said, but the attack was directed against Aislynn. As far as we can tell, they found out who she was, and decided to kill her so that they could strike at Eryk more easily.”

  “Who are ‘they’?”

  “Well, Sire, we’re still trying to piece everything together, but the attack this morning was carried out by Lord Branden and three men dressed as Madelian guards. One of those men was actually another assassin from the Black Scorpion guild, judging from the coin we found on his person.”

  As Byron finished speaking, they came upon a room guarded by two men wearing the blue and silver Evendell uniforms. Byron nodded to the men and turned to face the king.

  “These men deserve commendation,” he explained. “It is solely due to their actions that Aislynn is even alive right now.”

  “We are so sorry, your Majesty,” Marcus spoke up. “We came running as soon as we heard Cheta’s howls…”

  “…But we just didn’t get here fast enough,” finished Mateo, looking ashamed.

  Jackob nodded to both men, deciding to reserve any judgment until after he’d heard the whole story. It was easy to be angry, and easy to place blame. It was harder to make sure that blame was placed on the shoulders of the right person.

  “Where is Eryk?” he asked.

  “Inside, I imagine. That is where I left him last. Aislynn’s friend is there too. She’ll be able to tell you what happened better than I, since she was there when it happened.”

  Jackob opened the door quietly and went inside, leaving Byron outside with the guards. He quickly surveyed the damage and tried to get a picture of what had happened here. There was some overturned furniture, and quite a lot of blood scattered around the room. Most disturbing was the rather large pool of blood a few feet from the door.

  “Your Majesty!” Marja dashed over, dropping into a curtsey. Jackob took her gently by the arms, raising her up and looking at her face and the bruises showing along her cheek and jaw.

  “Oh Sire, it was horrible,” she wailed, dissolving into tears, as she let her calm façade drop. Jackob led her over to the couch and let her cry. He knew that he would get a more coherent retelling of what had happened if she was able to release some of the strain and worry. After a little while, she dried her tears and took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Aislynn had just come back from her morning exercises and was washing up in the other room, when there was a knock at the door. Lord Branden was there, drunk and raging, and he demanded to see Aislynn. When I tried to tell him that she was unavailable, he struck me, knocking me to the ground. Then he entered the room, brandishing his sword, and three other men followed him in. I lay still, afraid to move, while Branden went into the bedroom to find Aislynn.” She blushed at this, as if ashamed of her inaction, but she continued.

  “Aislynn must have heard them come in because she was ready for him, and was able to knock him unconscious. When she came into the room here, two of the three men attacked her. The third man was by the door, and he was the one who stabbed Cheta when she fled to get help. Aislynn managed to kill one of the men, but then the third man entered the fight. She seemed to have everything under control, even with the uneven fight, and it looked like she would have been able to hold her own until Marcus and Mateo arrived, but then Eryk arrived. The third man turned on him, and Aislynn was badly wounded while preventing the attack on him. Marcus and Mateo arrived just after that, and they managed to kill both of the men.”

  “Where is Aislynn now? What did the healers say?”

  “She’s there, in her bedroom,” Marja replied, gesturing toward the other room. “The healers said that the sword wound across her shoulder and chest is deep, and she lost a lot of blood. However, they are far more worried about the wound across her back, and the head wound. They said that they are not sure when, or even if, she’ll regain consciousness, and they are reasonably certain that she has been poisoned by the wound across her back.”

  Jackob did not like the sound of that, and rose quickly to go to his youngest daughter’s bedside. He paused by the door, however, when he heard a voice speaking inside.

  “Please Cheta, how many times do you want me to say that I’m sorry? It wasn’t my fault.” The voiced paused, and then continued.
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  “Okay, I guess you could say that part of it was my fault, but how was I supposed to know? If she would stop giving me partial information all of the time, things like this could be avoided.” Jackob realized that it was Eryk speaking, and leaned against the wall to listen a little longer, unashamed of his eavesdropping.

  “Why won’t you let me come any closer? I’m not going to hurt her… I just want to be near her, can’t you understand that?”

  Apparently, Cheta had some reservations about the young man. Interesting, thought Jackob.

  “You know that I love her, and you know that I want her to marry me… I’m sorry that this happened, and if I could take any or all of those injuries myself, I would.” Eryk sighed. “I wish you could just understand how much it hurts me to see her like this, to know that I’m responsible for it, and to not be able to sit beside her and hold her hand…”

  Jackob decided that he had heard enough. It was obvious that Eryk cared for Aislynn, and it was obvious that for one reason or another, Cheta was determined to keep him away. He guessed that he’d have to ask Aislynn about it later. For now, he sent his fox into the room, and he heard her yip of greeting. Cheta barked a reply, and Jackob entered the room just as Eryk was turning to see who it was.

  “Your Majesty,” Jackob began, “I’m so sorry to hear about your father. He was a close friend of mine for many years.”

  “Thank you, your Majesty,” Eryk replied, easily identifying the visitor based on the eesprid and his appearance. “And I, in return, am sorry that you had to arrive here to this.” He gestured toward Aislynn’s pale form on the bed. Cheta was lying on the bed beside her, on the side closest to the door, obviously guarding her.

  “You seem to be having some trouble with Aislynn’s eesprid,” Jackob observed with a slight smile. Eryk blushed, but didn’t answer. He suspected that Jackob had overheard him. Cheta growled in acknowledgement of Jackob’s statement.

  “So, tell me what happened, if you’d please,” Jackob asked, trying to guide Eryk from the room. Eryk refused to leave, sitting down on a chair by the door, before looking up at Aislynn’s father.

  “I heard Cheta howling in the courtyard,” he began. “Nobody had told me anything about that, so I assumed that Aislynn was in trouble, and I came running. It was just an automatic reaction. She was in trouble, like I suspected, but she had things under control until I got there.

  “One of the men she was fighting was another assassin, and when I arrived, he immediately tried to kill me. She was wounded so badly because she had to open herself up to one of the guards’ attacks in order to stop the assassin from killing me. The assassin was very angry that she caused him to miss me, and he kicked her in the head while she lay bleeding on the ground. Aislynn’s guards arrived just after that, and they managed to dispatch the men before they could finish with Aislynn, or with me.”

  Jackob nodded, hearing Eryk confirm Marja’s story. There were just a few points that he was still hoping to clarify.

  “You said ‘another assassin’. How many have there been?”

  “Well, Rupert killed one, and my guards killed another, aided by Rupert’s eesprid. Aislynn killed one a few days ago, and this one makes four.”

  Jackob was shocked. Four highly skilled assassins were dead for one contract. Granted, the contract involved two targets, but the guild still had a much higher level of acceptable loss than he would have thought, and he said so.

  “Acceptable loss?” questioned Eryk. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there is often a very stiff penalty when an assassin fails in a contract, but there is obviously no stiffer penalty than death. It takes a lot of time and resources to train a good assassin, and it is common for a guild to declare a contract null, accepting whatever penalties come with that, when they have lost assassins while trying to fulfill it. This last assassin was still pursuing an active contract when three of his guild mates were already dead. Now, with four of them dead, I have to wonder who is throwing so much money at the guild and why it is so very important to see you dead.

  “Marja mentioned that a Lord Branden headed up this attack. What happened to him?” Jackob asked, moving on to his next question.

  “That is a difficult thing to explain, since we don’t know all of the pieces yet. Branden has been my friend since we were little boys, and he became my chief advisor when I became king. Nevertheless, his behavior has been deteriorating, with him becoming more aggressive and unhinged with each passing day. Finally, this morning, still drunk from last night or perhaps even earlier today, he snapped and tried to kill Aislynn. He seems to view her as a threat.”

  “That seems pretty straight forward to me,” Jackob commented.

  “Well, it turns out that Branden has been taking some sort of substance. The healers figure that it’s been poisoning him, warping his sense of reality. They believe that this is why he’s been acting the way he has been, and the healers have started him on a course of leeches to try to clear the poison from his blood. They are hoping that he will regain consciousness later today, since Aislynn didn’t hit him that hard, but they are also fairly certain that he won’t be able to maintain a coherent conversation until tomorrow or the day after.”

  Jackob nodded in understanding, agreeing that the situation with Branden was indeed a little more complicated than it seemed on the surface. He then asked his next question.

  “Why did you come running when you heard Cheta?”

  “I said that I was afraid that Aislynn was in trouble.” Eryk answered, confused.

  “But why? None of your guards came, so why would you? And why would you assume that Cheta’s howls were a sign of trouble instead of a wolf just being noisy and communicative?”

  “Cheta doesn’t make a lot of noise,” Eryk replied, “so I figured that if she was making that much noise, attracting that much attention, there had to be a reason. And I came because I care about what happens to Aislynn…”

  Eryk trailed off, embarrassed by the revelation of his feelings to the father of the object of those emotions. Who in their right mind went blabbering away to their prospective father-in-law? Jackob chuckled, seeing his discomfort.

  “Oh,” Jackob said, remembering one other piece of information that he wanted clarified. “Who are these Madelians that the captain mentioned, and what do they have to do with this?”

  “That’s something else that we are not entirely sure of. The Madelian emissaries arrived here to try to come to a treaty agreement with my father shortly before he died. It looks like Branden was receiving whatever substance he was taking from them, or at least their guards. We know that Branden had been spending a lot of time with the guards recently, drinking, but we have no idea how the relationship between them started.

  “The two guards came with Branden to attack Aislynn this morning, and the assassin was dressed as a Madelian guard, so they were obviously familiar with him. Byron suspects that the emissaries from Madelia were hiding the assassins here in the castle all along so that half of their work was already done for them, but we don’t know why.”

  “Where are the emissaries now?” Jackob wanted to know.

  “They are currently locked in their suite, with guards at the door and the windows so that they cannot escape. I’ve been too busy here to question them.”

  “And what about Lord Branden? Where is he?”

  “He keeps a suite in the castle, so he is currently there, also under guard. There was a guard already stationed at Lord Collin’s residence in the city due to a prior issue, so Byron had sent another guard over for good measure, but we ended up being able to capture Branden without their aid, thanks to Aislynn.”

  “So I assume that you are going to question Lord Collin soon too?”

  Jackob’s question came as a surprise to Eryk. He hadn’t thought about questioning Branden’s father.

  “Why would I do that?” he queried.

  “Well
if Branden was working with Madelia, and you say that Madelia is here trying to negotiate a treaty while also trying to assassinate you, wouldn’t that mean that Branden could possibly have something to do with the attacks?”

  Eryk hadn’t thought about it that way, and he still didn’t want to consider the possibility that his friend would turn on him like that. But consider Aislynn, he told himself. Branden is his friend one moment, and the next moment, he’s trying to kill the woman Eryk wants to marry. Eryk had to ask himself, if Branden was capable of that, wasn’t it also possible that he was capable of organizing the assassination attempts?

  “So it seems like I have a fair amount of work ahead of me,” Eryk said. “But how can I…?” He trailed off, glancing once again at the bed where Aislynn lay.

  “Just what are your intentions toward my daughter?” Jackob asked, noting the pain and longing in Eryk’s gaze.

  “Well your Majesty, if I can get her to accept, I’d like her to be my wife and queen. I feel that she is the woman best suited for that particular role, and I know that I could make her happy.” Eryk was feeling surer of himself and his feelings each time he confronted them.

  “Oh you know that, do you? Do you have any idea why she’s been so adamant that it won’t work? And yes, I know that she’s been turning you down.” At Eryk’s puzzled look, he continued. “Try to think about things from her perspective before you continue pursuing her. What, exactly, would make her happy, in your opinion? Now take that opinion and compare it to what you know about her… If, when you’ve done some honest thinking about the subject, you still feel that you could make her happy and that she’s the best one for you, then talk with her. I expect the two of you need to work a number of things out if you want to make this work.”

  “So you don’t have any objections?” Eryk asked, a little surprised.

  “Not on a basic level, no, not as long as you can both work this out together. Given your rather special connection, a relationship between the two of you would likely be more complicated than for most other couples, but it could be done, if you both tried hard enough.”

  “Well…thank you, for that. I just hope that we get the chance to talk about it.”

  “Me too. For now though, say goodbye and leave her to her guards. You, my young king, have a lot to do, and you can’t do it while you’re pining away in here. Since you seem to be down both an advisor and a bodyguard, I’d like to offer my services. I think I can help you with your investigation, if you’d like me to.”

  “I thank you for the offer, your Majesty, and I’d be more than willing to have your help with this. Goodness knows, you have as much interest in getting this whole mess figured out as I do.”

  Eryk did what Jackob asked, and stepped over to the bed. This time, Cheta didn’t growl and snap at him, and he sat down carefully, taking Aislynn’s hand in his. He leaned over carefully, and kissed her gently on her forehead.

  “Please get well,” he whispered.

  As he stood up, Eryk noticed a long, bloody scratch along Cheta’s back. He reached out toward the wolf, running his fingers along the line very gently.

  “So that’s why,” he said softly, mostly to himself.

  “What’s why?” Jackob asked, hearing Eryk’s statement despite his quiet tone of voice.

  “The healers are fairly certain that Aislynn’s been poisoned,” he explained. Jackob nodded, having heard this from Marja.

  “Well, they think that the poison is likely the same that killed Rupert, but they are not sure why it doesn’t seem to be affecting Aislynn as quickly as it did him. If you look at Cheta’s back here, you can see where she was injured with a blade. I bet the assassin stabbed Cheta first, thereby removing some of the poison from his blade, before he attacked Aislynn with it. The poison isn’t affecting Aislynn the same way because there isn’t as much of it. Hopefully that means that the antidotes they tried on her have a chance to work.”

  Eryk’s conclusion made sense to Jackob, and Marja had commented that the assassin had injured Cheta. There was corroborating evidence of sorts for his explanation, and it did make sense.

  “But why isn’t Cheta sick?” Eryk wondered aloud.

  “Likely because she’s an eesprid,” replied Jackob. “They are not like the animals they appear to be. They don’t age the same way, they don’t fall sick, and they need very little food and sleep. And it looks like they don’t get poisoned the same way either.”

  “Well, there isn’t any more that I can do here,” Eryk said resolutely as he made his way toward the door. “Let’s go and get this investigation underway, shall we?”

  Eryk led the way out of the room, followed by Jackob and Daki. Cheta laid her head back down on the bedspread and sighed. She hoped for Aislynn’s recovery as much as Eryk and Jackob did, and she needed to rest herself too, in order to heal the injuries that she had sustained. She closed her eyes and, soothed by Aislynn’s rhythmic, if shallow, breathing, she slept.