Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1) (6 page)

Galen led the way through the palace halls with a high-stepping trot. I wasn’t sure whether that was due to nerves, his own personal type of locomotion, or simply to enable a slow-footed human to keep up. While on the move, he gave me a Cliffs Notes version of recent Andeluvian history.

The land of Andeluvia was pretty well split between Benedict’s (mostly) human kingdom and that of the Centaur Kingdom. Thanks to Benedict, peace had reigned for the last forty years, everybody had prospered, and in general everyone seemed to like the old guy.

‘Seemed’ being the operative word.

Two days ago, while Benedict met with a group of centaur nobles, he’d ended up dead as a doornail. The chief suspects were the centaurs, of course. They’d fled the scene as the crime was discovered. That didn’t exactly help their claim that they were innocent, but the centaur nobles were sticking to their story.

“That’s where we hope you can help us,” Galen said, as we came up to a set of doors that were far grander than anything we’d passed yet. He bent slightly to grab the massive iron handle and pulled the door open. He indicated that I should enter with a wave of his hand.

I walked into a long, narrow, rather drafty room that resembled the bedroom in that it had the same vaulted ceiling, wall tapestries, and deep-set windows at the far end. However, a table made of dark wood, gilded at the edges with gold leaf, stretched the length of the room. Place settings and high-backed chairs inlaid with fleur-de-lis designs marked regular intervals along the table. At each chair sat a man or woman, with fair to blonde hair, brown or gray eyes, and generally florid, bony facial features. Each of the people present was decked out in fur and velvet-trimmed cloaks, jackets, and hats. They were talking—actually arguing—so loudly that no one seemed to notice my entrance.

Which was fine by me. Compared to these folks, who were all clothed in the medieval equivalent of
haute couture
, I looked sadly underdressed. I probably would’ve turned to slink back out had Galen not come trotting through the door. At the sound of his hooves, everyone’s conversation ground to a halt. Eyes swiveled in our direction.

If looks could kill, I’d have been a little mound of minced chuck and Galen a slightly larger pile of ground horsemeat.

“Good people of the court of Duke Kajari,” he said, in his deep voice. “May I present Lady Dayna Chrissie, of the Office of Medical Examiner, from the land of Los Angeles.”

I cringed a little. The introduction seemed a little over the top for me. But if I was expecting a pleasant, courtly greeting, I was immediately underwhelmed.

No one clapped.

All they did for a moment was stare at me with suspicious, slitted eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” said one of the nobles, from halfway down the length of the table. The man’s elegant, fur-trimmed jacket barely sufficed to cover the expanse of his ample belly. “So the horsey wizard for hire has located and brought back someone to ‘help’. A witch from another world. Please, spare us.”

“Watch your language,” the thin, hawk-nosed woman next to him added, “I’ve hired many a witch before. Unlike this one, they were actually useful.”

A man with a neatly trimmed goatee and black leather armor openly sneered at me. “What need do we have for this woman’s services? I mean, unless it’s wenching and sporting that she is good at. She might be of use if she can move like a mink in heat.”

The people around the table roared with laughter at that one.

Me, I was doing my best to count to ten and stay in my happy place.

“This is blasphemous!” cried an older, grandfatherly figure, “We soothsayers will not stand by and watch ourselves be mocked by this outlander!” He held up a wooden walking staff and moved it menacingly. He wore a stained white jacket over a tunic made up of some kind of dark blue fur. To my eye, it made the old guy look like he’d gone out and skinned Cookie Monster from Sesame Street.

“That is enough, good people, enough,” said the man sitting at the head of the table. He rose, and the crowd quieted. His head, cleanly shaved save for an espresso-colored scalp lock at the back, gleamed like polished wood in the soft light that streamed in from the window. “You have done well, Sir Galen. You have followed my orders perfectly. As I had wished.”

An angry murmur ran through the crowd at that. Galen simply bowed his head in respect. “I am here to serve both our peoples, Duke Kajari.”

The Duke leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. The very shape of his face looked commanding, from the angular cheek and jaw bones to the aristocratic slope of his aquiline nose. His scarlet-colored coat sported little bell-shaped buttons similar to the ones on Galen’s jacket, only trimmed in buttery gold. He wore no crown, but a satin mantle the color of ripe plums draped over his broad shoulders like a royal sash. Kajari’s voice wasn’t as deep as Galen’s basso rumble. But it made up for that with a smooth husk that compelled one to pay attention to what was being said.

“As Lord Regent, I implore you all to assist in this matter.” He pointed out the richly dressed man and hawk-nosed woman. “That includes the both of you, Lord and Lady Behnaz.” He nodded at the man with the goatee. “Captain Vazura, you must stand ready should this woman call.” He frowned as he glanced at the old man with the staff. “Master Seer Zenos, be so kind as to speak to your guild. We hold them in the utmost respect.”

“Utmost respect! I think not!” The old man turned on his heel and stamped out the door, pausing only to give me a look calculated to burn a hole in a wooden plank. This was followed by the squeak and groan of chairs on the stone floor as one by one, each of the people sitting at the table got up, usually offering a couple choice curse words, and filed by me and Galen.

I counted four disdainful sniffs, three murmured words of insult, and a whole brace of noses out of joint. My knuckles were white by the end of this little ritual, but I maintained my temper. Duke Kajari, perhaps bored by sitting at the end of the table by himself, came over towards me, an uncertain smile on his face.

“My sincere apologies, Lady Chrissie,” he said.

The warmth in his voice melted a nice chunk of the ice that’d built up inside me over the last minute. “You come among us at a hard time. A fearful time. War has been declared between Benedict’s realm and that of the Centaur Kingdom. Hospitality is in short supply. Harsh words are not.”

“Oh, no matter,” I said, though my voice fluttered in the back of my throat. “I understand, um…Sire.”

Kajari smiled wider this time. He had even, white teeth that could’ve headlined a Hollywood billboard. And the man had marvelous blue eyes. Bright blue, bombardier blue. The kind of eyes I could dive into and paddle around in sans swimsuit.

“You are not familiar with our customs yet, Lady. ‘Sire’ is only appropriate when addressing our King.” He indicated himself with a tap on his chest. “I am only the Lord Regent, until Benedict’s son can be recalled from abroad.”

“Either way, it sounds like your subjects are restless.”

He nodded wearily, and motioned for Galen and myself to follow him. We walked down another corridor, this one lined with trumpet-shaped metal torches and guards dressed in red and black livery draped over the glint of mailed armor.

“Restless and afraid. You see, when Benedict was murdered, half of the realm’s nobles saw their estates going up in the flames of war.” He shrugged eloquently. “As for the other half, like Vazura or Behnaz…they see opportunity. To conquer new lands in the centaur realms.”

Galen made a surprisingly horse-like snort. “As if they could!”

“I hear you, wizard. Your people are fierce warriors. But so are the soldiers in the Andeluvian army. Both sides are eager for blood.”

I
really
didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

“Let me show you what is in the offing,” Kajari finished.

We passed through another set of double doors, and before I knew it, we were outside. I gasped as the calm, draft-free corridor gave way to a howling, rushing wind. We stood atop the palace battlements, gazing out over a wide swath of land, laid out far below in a green and gold swale.

Benedict’s palace was an ornate, sprawling building anchored at each corner with a dunce-cap tower. It sat atop what must have been a fair sized hill. Stretching away before us were the gray stone buildings of a nice-sized town. As soon as the slope lessened, the stone buildings gave way to wooden houses. Level ground turned into well-tended farmland and orchards. In the middle distance, the farmland turned into forest, spitted through with dirt roads. And a little further beyond that, the land reared up into a broad, bare plateau. Dust trails boiled up from the plateau’s flat surface. Kajari pulled out a little glass circlet from his chest pocket and handed it to me.

“This will enlarge the images out there,” he said. He turned to Galen, a grave look upon his face. “They seem pretty active today, wizard.”

“Sadly, I must agree, Lord Regent.”

I squinted through the glass. All of a sudden, what I was seeing leapt into focus. I was watching fully armored centaur knights, their human and equine portions draped with golden mailed armor. They each carried long, steel-tipped lances and triangular shields. As I watched, a group of fifty centaurs broke away from the group, fell back into a gleaming line, and ran through a combination charge and wheel to the left. I blinked, astounded.

I’d just seen a combination infantry maneuver and cavalry charge, all in one.

“Impressive,” I said.

“Very much so.” Kajari said. “They plan to strike Andeluvia’s border in the next three days. Whoever wins, a lot of people will die.”

“Thousands,” agreed Galen.

“So…” I ventured, “If I can solve who killed Benedict, then things will go back to normal?”

“That is our hope.” Duke Kajari said. “If the matter can be settled, the Andeluvian nobles will lift the war decree. Otherwise, they’ll stand firm to do battle.”

“And the nobles of the Centaur Kingdom will never back down from a fight,” Galen added. “Nor will they tolerate an insult, for their blood runs hot.”

“What if it turns out that the centaurs
did
kill Benedict?” I asked.

“Then we would have to prove it to the centaurs,” Kajari said. “If one of their own people is at fault, then we Andeluvians aren’t insulting them. Reparations would be paid. Peacefully.”

My brain spun like a tilt-a-whirl between all of these new ideas, new discoveries. I bit my lip. Three days.
Three
.

What if the cause wasn’t apparent? What if magic had been used? What if I needed gear from the crime lab? Hell, how was I going to get home in the first place?

And really, what business did I have in this world? Being ‘summoned’ felt like being politely kidnapped. I didn’t have a stake in anything here, did I?

The Duke watched me as I pondered all of this. He nodded to himself. When he spoke, his rich voice sounded full of warm, understanding regret.

“I realize now that we made a mistake. This is no place for someone as beautiful and delicate as you, Lady Chrissie.”

Chapter Seven

I looked up and fixed my gaze on Duke Kajari. The wind picked up, whistling over the battlements of Benedict’s castle. Kajari’s scalp lock tossed in the breeze like a coffee-colored ribbon.

My voice came out slate-hard.

“What do you mean, ‘this is no place for me’?”

Kajari frowned. “I meant no slight on your profession. We’ve studied your world through the application of magic. We’ve observed how crimes of passion and murder are solved. It was on the advice of the head of Benedict’s Parliament that I agreed to bring a crime scene analyst to Andeluvia.”

“So you didn’t summon me specifically. You’d take any Johnny or Jane-come lately who had the misfortune to pick up your damned gold trinket.”

“We knew that only an expert of your kind would probe a body’s wounds. Especially if foul play were apparent. Surely you can see how desperate we were for an outsider. Someone who could be objective. But again, I apologize, Lady. Had I known that a woman of such fine character would’ve been pulled here, I’d have never agreed to Parliament’s suggestion–”

I’d had just about enough of the Duke for now.