Warrior (31 page)

But the boy grinned, rather flattered it seemed by his uncle’s uncertainty. “Do you really think I killed her, Uncle Mahkas?” He turned to Almodavar. “See,
he
thinks I can do it.”

“Aye,” the captain agreed. “But I’ve yet to see you do much more than brag about it, lad. You
should
have killed her. The same way you should have killed me.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Almodavar,” Marla said. “But in this case, I’m rather relieved he
didn’t
kill Luciena. Like Mahkas, I would very much like to know
why
she attempted to kill Damin and, more importantly, if she was acting alone or if this is part of a much larger conspiracy. None of which would be possible if he’d ended her life.”

“And I didn’t make the same mistake as last time,” Damin assured them, directing his comment mainly at Almodavar. Mahkas suspected Damin could feel another forty laps coming on and was anxious to avoid them. “You told me I had to kill my attacker because that was the only way to make
certain
they were disabled. Well, I made certain Luciena was disabled. I just did it by putting my foot on her neck until help arrived, instead of killing her.”

Laran would have done something like that
, Mahkas thought.
He doesn’t look much like his
father, but Damin Wolfblade has a lot of Laran Krakenshield in him
.

Mahkas wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I think we should be applauding Damin’s clear thinking, not chastising him for it,” Mahkas told the captain, quite deliberately siding with his nephew. He made a point of letting Damin see he was on his side, every chance he got. “But . . .
Luciena
tried to kill him? Why, it’s almost too fantastic to credit! I had a few misgivings about your decision to adopt the girl, Marla, but she seemed to be fitting in so well.

Did she say nothing, even during the attack?”

“Not much,” Damin told him. “She just came in through the slaveways waving that stupid little knife around with this weird look on her face. Even when I asked her straight out what she thought she was trying to do, she didn’t answer me. It was like she couldn’t even hear me talking.” Damin glanced over his shoulder at his mother and added with some concern, “I know you told me it’s wrong to hit a woman, Mama, and I tried to warn her before I laid a hand on her. Truly, I did. She just wouldn’t stop coming at me. And she did have a knife.”

“I know, Damin,” Marla assured him. “You’re not in trouble. Not about
that
, anyway.”

“How did Luciena get through the slaveways?” Mahkas demanded of the Raiders. “The door to Damin’s room is supposed to be sealed.”

“It was locked when we checked it,” Raek Harlen confirmed. “We don’t know how she got through it.”

“Do
you
have any idea, Damin?” Marla asked.

The boy shook his head. “No, Mama.”

He’s lying
, Mahkas thought, although he couldn’t imagine why. “Has she said nothing since?”

“She’s not said a word, my lord,” Almodavar confirmed. “We’ve got her down in the cells at present, but you’ll not get much sense out of her. It’s like she’s battle shocked.”

Marla frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You see it in battle sometimes, particularly among young soldiers confronted with their first kill. They go into a kind of daze. It’s as if the rest of their body shuts down while their mind tries to deal with what they’ve seen or done.”

“And do they recover?”

“Most of them.”

“And you think Luciena is in some sort of battle shock?”

“I don’t know, your highness. I’m just saying that’s what it looks like.”

“And how long does this recovery usually take?”

“Hours,” Almodavar shrugged. “Days. Sometimes weeks.”

“And sometimes not at all, I suppose.” Marla shook her head, clearly puzzled by the entire incident. “It makes no sense. As you say, Mahkas, she seemed to be fitting in so well.” Marla leaned back in her chair—Mahkas’s chair—and looked at her son thoughtfully. “Have you had any trouble since she arrived, Damin? Before tonight?”

He shrugged and looked over his shoulder at his mother again. “No. I mean, it’s not like she’s my best friend or anything, but she’s always seemed nice enough. Maybe she said something to Rielle or Tejay.”

“What have Rielle Tirstone or Tejay Bearbow got to do with it?” Mahkas asked.

“The boys and I went down to the markets with them earlier today. And Kalan, too. Kal was talking to them just before . . .” Damin hesitated and then smiled sheepishly. “Just before that other . . .

incident.”

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that,” his mother reminded him.

“I think we need to interrogate the girl,” Mahkas announced. “Torture her if necessary.”

“I find torture is rarely necessary, Mahkas,” Marla informed him, clearly displeased by his suggestion.

“I just meant—”

“Yes, I know what you meant.”

Before Mahkas could defend his statement, the door opened again. This time it was his nephew, Xanda Taranger, who entered the office, followed closely by the slave Luciena had brought to Krakandar. The plump blonde’s eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. She had obviously been crying.

“Your highness,” Xanda said, bowing to his aunt quite formally. A few months in Greenharbour had taught Mahkas’s nephew some court manners, it seemed.

Marla bowed her head in acknowledgement of the greeting and turned her attention to the slave. “Your name is Aleesha, isn’t it?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Do you know what’s happened here tonight?”

She nodded, tears filling her eyes.

“Would you care to enlighten us as to why?”

“Your highness?”

“I’m assuming you know when your mistress joined the Patriot Faction.”

“I . . . I don’t understand . . .”

“Your mistress attempted to kill the heir to the throne of Hythria this evening, Aleesha,” Marla pointed out. “Unless she was acting out of some misguided notion of vengeance at the way she’s been mistreated, I can only assume the attack was politically motivated. I am offering you the opportunity to provide us with the information we require, to save your mistress.”

“Save her?” Aleesha looked warily at the unsympathetic faces surrounding her. “Save her from what?”

“Lord Damaran was just asking for permission to torture the information from your mistress, and Captain Almodavar has been chastising Prince Damin for not killing her. If you wish to save your mistress from those who feel high treason and attempted murder should not be punished by anything less than hanging, I suggest you tell us what you know.”

The slave shook her head as the tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know nothing, your highness.

Truly. There must be some mistake. Luciena would never do anything like this.”

“Who are her accomplices?” Marla insisted. “Her friends?”

“There’s nobody—”

“Her mother’s friends, then?” the princess demanded. “She was a wellknown
court’esa
. Who were
her
customers, her regular clients? Was this plot hatched in Katira Keyne’s bed and left to her daughter to follow through when the opportunity arose?”

“No!” Aleesha sobbed, becoming more distressed by the minute. “No! No!
No
! You have it all wrong! Katira retired when she had Luciena. She never entertained another man after she became Jarvan Mariner’s mistress. He insisted on it. There were no clients, your highness. There is no plot!”

“Maybe it was the debts,” Xanda suggested.

Mahkas turned to look at him. The young man seemed almost as upset as the slave. “What debts?”

“Luciena was in dire debt after her mother died. Maybe Elezaar didn’t find them all. Maybe there’s another debt we didn’t know about? One where the payment was going to be settled in return for Damin’s life?”

“I hope it was a big one,” Damin remarked brightly. “I’d hate to think my life was traded for the few rivets left owing on the cobbler’s account.”

Mahkas sighed inwardly. The boy really should learn to take things more seriously.

“Damin!” Marla snapped at him in irritation, apparently of the same opinion. “Be quiet!”

“Please, your highness,” Aleesha begged, sniffling back a fresh round of tears, “I don’t know why this happened. All I know is that my mistress would never try to kill anyone, and especially not a little boy.”

“I’m not a little boy!” Damin objected to nobody in particular.

“Damin, shut up or leave the room!” his mother barked angrily.

Aleesha fell to her knees, as if her subservient pose gave weight to her words. “Please, your highness. If this really happened, then something is dreadfully wrong. Luciena’s not plotting with anyone! And even if she wanted to, who would plot with her? Until you offered to adopt her, Princess Marla, my mistress was the penniless, baseborn daughter of a
court’esa
. Even if someone knew you were planning to invite her here to Krakandar, there was no time between when you made the offer and when we left Greenharbour for her to plot anything with anybody.”

“She spoke with Ameel Parkesh,” Xanda reminded the slave.

“And you were there, Lieutenant!” the slave retorted impatiently. “And you saw what he wanted of Luciena. You were the one who sent him packing! The only other person we saw before we left Greenharbour was the High Arrion and you’re not going to accuse
her
of plotting against the High Prince’s heir, are you?”

A deathly silence descended over the room. Marla visibly paled.

“Your mistress visited Alija Eaglespike before you left Greenharbour?” she asked in a voice devoid of all emotion.

“The day before we departed,” the slave confirmed. “And it wasn’t Luciena who went to visit her. It was the other way around. In fact, when Luciena tried to get in to see her the first time . . .” The slave hesitated, realising how damning her statement seemed.

“What did the High Arrion want with your mistress?” Mahkas demanded.

“I don’t know, Lord Damaran. Lady Alija sent me to fetch drinks. They probably spoke about Luciena’s cousin in Fardohnya.”

“So your mistress is in league with the Fardohnyans then,” Almodavar concluded. “And they’re the ones behind this attack.”

“No!” Aleesha cried. “She’s not in league with anyone. I don’t
know
what they spoke about. All I know is that when I returned with the drinks, Lady Alija was gone and Luciena was lying on the floor in a dead faint.”

Marla’s expression hardened. “Captain Almodavar,” she said, without taking her eyes from the slave. Her voice chilled Mahkas to the core. Even Damin turned and looked at her askance, seeing a side of his mother he’d not seen before.

“Yes, your highness?”

“I want you to go down to the cells and kill Luciena Mariner.”

There was another moment of thick silence before Almodavar responded. “Your
highness
?”

“I want you to kill her, Captain. I don’t care how. I just want her dead.”

The merciless order left even Mahkas gasping. “But shouldn’t we investigate—”

“Her mind has been tampered with,” Marla informed them. “She is a threat while ever she continues to draw breath. I want her dead.”

“You can’t!” Xanda objected.

Marla turned her icy stare on her nephew. “I can.”

“Then you mustn’t!” he corrected. “If Luciena’s mind has been tampered with—if the High Arrion has done it—you can’t just kill her out of hand.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Xanda,” Marla replied. “She is a puppet and somebody else is pulling the strings. It might be the Fardohnyans or it might be the Patriots. I don’t really care. I will not leave a threat like that alive and anywhere near my children.”

“I do understand,” he argued. “Better than you think. And that’s my point. If her mind
has
been tampered with, you need to know why. And more importantly, why
now
? What’s changed in Hythria’s political climate recently? Why choose now to remove Lernen’s heir? Was this planned long ago or just an opportunistic attack? There’s more going on here than just a girl we thought we could trust suddenly turning into an assassin, Aunt Marla, and you’d be a fool to ignore it.”

He’s smarter than he looks
, Mahkas decided, having never given Xanda much credit in the past for his intellectual capacity. Then again, Mahkas thought dryly, maybe he wasn’t so clever, after all.
A
smart man would think twice before accusing Marla Wolfblade to her face of being a fool
.

“And how do you suggest I do that, Xanda?”

“Wrayan Lightfinger.”

“But Wrayan’s gone to Fardohnya,” Damin announced.

They all stared at him.

“Or so I’ve heard,” he added hastily, when he realised what he’d just revealed.

“We’ll discuss
how
you know that later, young man,” Marla warned her son with an ominous glower, and then she turned her attention back to her nephew. “But Damin is right, Xanda. Wrayan’s not here. Do you propose I leave Luciena free to wreak what havoc she wishes until the head of the Thieves’

Guild chooses to grace us with his presence again at some indeterminate time in the future?”

“Of course not, Aunt Marla. Keep Luciena confined, by all means. But don’t kill her out of hand.

Not yet. Not without giving Wrayan a chance to probe her mind and find out what’s really going on.”

The princess thought about it for a moment and then nodded reluctantly. “Very well, she lives—

either until Wrayan gets back or I leave for Greenharbour at the end of summer.”

“And if Wrayan Lightfinger determines that her mind
hasn’t
been tampered with?” Mahkas asked, privately sceptical about the thief’s ability to wield any sort of magic, but wise enough not to challenge Marla on the issue.

“Then she dies.”

Relieved beyond words to learn someone else was to be held accountable for this disaster, Mahkas nodded slowly in agreement.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that Marla meant every word of her promise to kill Luciena Mariner. And he wondered if he was the only one in the room who understood that the princess hadn’t actually called off the execution. She’d merely delayed it for a while.