Weapon of Fear (25 page)

“But
imperial guards are not blademasters.”  Hoseph paced the room and all eyes
followed him. 
Good; at least they’re listening
.  “We need to identify
and make contact with someone willing and able to assassinate Arbuckle, someone
with access who can be recruited or pressured into complying with our wishes.”

Duke
Seoli frowned and shook his head.  “And risk our necks for daring to suggest
regicide to the wrong person?  Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I
must agree with Duke Seoli.”  Duchess Ingstrom wrinkled her nose.  “Whoever
approaches a potential collaborator is as good as dead.”

“You
misunderstand,” Hoseph said.  “I would be the one to actually broach the
subject.  All you need do is identify the person and deliver a
message—discreetly, of course.  A simple invitation to an unspecified meeting
will not put anyone in danger.”

“Until
they refuse your offer and report the meeting and the origin of the message to
Arbuckle.”  Seoli shook his head again.  “It’s too risky.”

Hoseph
raked the conspirators with a reproachful look.  “So far, I’ve taken
all
the risks in this.  If we’re all to benefit from our association, the risk must
also be shared.”

“You’re
able to flit around like a breath of wind, Master Hoseph.”  One of the lesser
nobles glared at him accusatively.  “If one of us is approached by the Imperial
Guard, we can’t simply vanish!”

“And
we have much more to lose than you.”  Duchess Ingstrom frowned at the signet
ring on her finger.  “Nobles convicted of treason forfeit their estates.  An
entire noble house can be disavowed, our families thrown into the street, our
titles and lands sold to the highest bidder.”  She glanced toward Lady T and
said, “No offense intended, my dear.”

“None
taken.”  Lady T’s calm tone belied the fire in her eyes.

“Have
a magistrate find your conspirator.  All they stand to lose is a
job
.” 
Seoli pronounced the word as if it were personally repugnant.

“This’s
insane
!”  Magistrate Ferrera quaffed yet another whiskey.  She hadn’t
stopped since she arrived, and had begun to slur her words.  “We’re all gonna
end up dead!  I wish I’d never joined this plan, and I want no part of it
anymore!” She lurched to her feet and started for the door.

Hoseph’s
patience snapped. 
That’s enough
!

He
flicked the silver skull into his hand and grabbed her arm, her scream of
protest fading as he dragged her into the Sphere of Shadow.  Through the gray
veils he perceived Ferrera’s soul, wan and colorless, like the woman herself. 
She couldn’t struggle, couldn’t escape, but he could sense her panic through
their connection.  Ferrera had feared travel through the Sphere more than any
of the others.  She would learn very shortly that her fear was well founded.

Travel
with me no more
,
he thought, releasing his connection to her incorporeal being.

Hoseph
felt her drift away as the shadows shifted and swirled.  Demia’s grace
protected him and those with him in this realm of banished godlings and
demons.  Not so the unfortunate magistrate.  A looming presence, darker than
the surrounding shadows, thickened around her, enveloped her struggling
essence.  With a wrenching jolt, Magistrate Ferrera was gone.  Without a twinge
of guilt, Hoseph returned to Lady T’s sitting room.

“Now,
let’s get back to business.”

Seroli
stared aghast.  “What did you do with her?”

“What
else could I do?  Hoseph shrugged.  “You all heard her.  She no longer wanted
to be a part of our group, so…she’s not.”

“Did
you kill her?”

“No,
Duchess Ingstrom, I did not.  I left her in the Sphere of Shadow."  Hoseph
smiled as they shrank back in response to his blasé admission. 
Perhaps now
they’ll cooperate
.

Graving
put down his wine to avoid spilling it.  “If we should all disappear there’ll
be an investigation.”

“But
you won’t, because everyone here is thoroughly committed to our cause.  You
should have taken more care in recruiting Magistrate Ferrera.  She was
unstable, undependable, and a liability to us all.  Now, who will be placing
our inquiries within the palace?”

“There
will be compensation for this service.”  Lady T stepped up, flashing Hoseph a
warning glance before she sweetened the pot.  “Whoever brings us what we need
will receive a boon: a title, lands, whatever they wish. 
We’re
the ones
putting Tessifus on the throne, and we’ll control his every move.  Whatever you
want, we can grant.”

Silence
hung heavy in the room, and Hoseph measured their avarice against their fear. 
As he knew all too well from working with the Grandmaster, fear nearly always
won, but their fear of Arbuckle evidently exceeded their fear of him.  Not one
person—magistrate or noble—met his eye.

“You
disappoint me.”  Hoseph glowered at them, but even his wrath seemed inadequate
to motivate them. 
Cowards and fools, all of them
.  “If we don’t succeed
before the coronation, the task will be much more difficult.  Perhaps when
Arbuckle has replaced all of you with
commoners
, you’ll realize your
error.” 

A
rbuckle stepped from his bedchamber
into the sitting room as and immediately felt cramped by the press of people. 
Ten imperial guards and an armored knight snapped to attention.  Ithross had insisted
on the increased security, determined that the loss of the blademasters
wouldn’t put his sovereign at risk.  The captain had chosen the guards not only
for their loyalty, but also for their lack of familial ties.

“Loved
ones can be used for coercion, Milord Prince,” Ithross had said in explaining
his choices.  “Even the most loyal guard might succumb when given the choice
between their child’s life and yours.”

Arbuckle
appreciated the sentiment, but felt overwhelmed.
 As long as they keep me
breathing
…

Unfortunately,
more guards meant many disturbances—a sniffle here, the creak of armor there. 
The guards weren’t as unobtrusive as blademasters.  Consequently, Arbuckle had
begun using his bedchamber for meals and solitary work.  It was the only place
where Ithross allowed him to be alone.

“What’s
on the agenda this morning, Tennison?”

“No
audiences until after lunch, milord.  Just these reports from Lord MalEnthal.” 
Tennison handed him a sheaf of papers.  “His reviews of the cases you sent him.

“Excellent! 
I’ll see to these first thing.”  A pen scratched behind him, and Arbuckle
turned to find Verul sitting with his ledger instead of Renquis.  “Verul!  I’m
pleased to have you back, my good man!  You’ve straightened out the archives
then, have you?”

“Pleased
to be back, milord, and no, not quite yet.  It’s a catastrophe, if you don’t
mind my saying.  It’ll take some time to straighten out properly, but we’re
well on the way.”

“As
long as we’re making progress, I’m pleased.”  Despite the potential embarrassment
of his every word being recorded for posterity, Arbuckle wanted future scholars
to be able to trust that the material they were reading was accurate.

What
will history make of my father?
he wondered as he returned to his bedchamber.  Forty years of lies in the
archives, with no way to determine the veracity of any of it. 
A legacy of
lies
…

I
won’t be like him
,
Arbuckle vowed. 
If I survive long enough
…

Banishing
his maudlin thoughts, Arbuckle settled down to his reading.  The work
progressed quickly.  MalEnthal’s reviews were spot on.  Without exception,
their judgments concurred.  Unlawful assembly, disorderly behavior, looting,
and minor destruction of property comprised the majority of charges.  He rubbed
his eyes before starting in on the last case.

“Arson?”

That
dispelled his fatigue.  Any fire in a city like Tsing could be disastrous. 
Many of the nobles’ homes were stone-built, but most of the city was constructed
of wooden buildings that would flare up like bonfires.  Arbuckle didn’t even
want to think of what might happen if the Wharf District or the shipyards
caught fire.  With the Night of Flame still painfully on his conscience, he
flipped the page to read the case.

There
was a piece of paper inserted with a note.

Milord Prince Arbuckle,

May I beg that you see me before
dealing with this case?  I have information that may be pertinent to the
outcome.

Ever loyally yours,

Lord Paladin MalEnthal

“How
odd.”  Arbuckle flipped to the back, but found no review or further notations,
simply the case of three commoners arrested for burning a noble’s home.  “I
wonder what he means by this.”

Gathering
up the case, he strode into the sitting room.  “Tennison, we need to go see
Lord MalEnthal.”

“At
once, milord.”  Tennison gathered the clattering entourage of guards, and they accompanied
Arbuckle to the residential wing.

At
the paladin’s door, he stopped, considering the cryptic note about the case. 
He turned to the knight in charge of his guard detail.  “Wait here, Sir Yanli. 
There’s not room enough for everyone, and Lord MalEnthal is loyal to me.”

“Very
well, milord.”  The knight stationed his guards along the hall.

Tennison
and Verul accompanied Arbuckle inside.  They found Lord MalEnthal propped up in
a chair by a window reading yet another case file.

“Milord
Prince Arbuckle.  Welcome!”  He nodded respectfully, which was all he could do
without lower limbs.  “Please, take a seat.  I see you got my note.” 
MalEnthal’s expression darkened.

“I
did.  What is it about this particular case that troubles you?”

“Have
you studied it yet?”

“No. 
I know only that it’s arson.”

“Baron
Ledwig’s home was burned two days ago.  The home was offset from its neighbors
by a sufficient distance to allow the fire brigades and volunteers to keep
other buildings from becoming involved.  The home itself, however, was a
complete loss.”

“Was
anyone hurt?”

“There
were only minor injuries.”  The paladin’s frown deepened.  “Three culprits were
caught in the act and arrested.  An entire squad of constables witnessed them
set the fire, so there can be no question as to their guilt.  They knew what
they were doing, and the act wasn’t random.”

Arbuckle
cocked his head.  “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“This
detail troubled me.”  MalEnthal flipped through several of the pages.  “See
here.  The accused all have the same surname.  I wondered how they were
related, and what bearing it might have on this case, if any.”

Tennison
spoke up.  “It’s not unknown for criminality to run in families.”

“I
know,” MalEnthal agreed.  “I saw a lot of that when I was in the mountains
hunting down bandits.  Whole clans gone bad.  But something nagged my gut on
this one, so I sent Jamis here out to ask some questions.  It turns out that
they’re brothers, and have never before been in trouble.  Their sister is a
chambermaid in the baron’s home.”

Arbuckle
felt a chill.  “And…”

“And
that’s all he could find out.”  The paladin shrugged.  “But I’ve still got a
bad feeling about this.  You see, Baron Ledwig used to be a knight.  I served
with him for several years.”

“And
what’s your opinion of the baron?”

MalEnthal
glowered from beneath bushy brows.  “Far be it for me to denigrate a noble, but
may I just say this: Sir Ledwig enjoyed working for your father.  He was
awarded his title and lands by the emperor for his deeds putting down an
uprising in the south.”

Arbuckle
sat back in his chair.  This didn’t bode well.  MalEnthal was a veteran of
countless campaigns, with a sharp mind and a sterling reputation.  His opinion
meant something.  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Lord
MalEnthal.  I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I
hope so, milord.  It stinks like rotten fish to me.”

Arbuckle
stood. “Tennison, summon the chief magistrate.”

Arbuckle
reviewed the case twice while he waited in a small audience chamber.  When
Graving arrived, he could tell by the man’s manner that he was annoyed at being
summoned, but Arbuckle didn’t care.

“Chief
Magistrate Graving, thank you for coming.  I’ve got a few questions about the
arson case at Baron Ledwig’s home that I hope you can clear up.”

“I’ll
try my best, Milord Prince.”

“These
three brothers are relations of one of the baron’s servants, I believe.”

Graving’s
eyes narrowed before he assumed a thoughtful expression.  “I believe you’re
right.  A chambermaid, milord.”

“I’d
like to speak to her.  Have Chief Constable Dreyfus bring her in.”

“I’m
afraid that’s not possible.  She passed away recently.”

“Passed
away?”  An alarm tolled in Arbuckle’s mind.  “How did she die?”

“I’m
not sure, milord.”  Graving’s lie shone clear on his face.

Anger
flared through Arbuckle’s veins.  “Chief Magistrate Graving, I believe that
this woman’s death has something to do with this case, and I intend to
investigate thoroughly, starting with the accused, the constables who caught
them in the act, anyone who interrogated them, and Baron Ledwig’s entire
household.  I
will
discover how this woman died, and if I learn that you
knew and withheld that information from me, I will arrest you for withholding
evidence.  Do you understand?”

Graving
turned white, his triple chins quivering as he spoke.  “I
understand
,
milord.  I was
not
withholding anything, as I am not
sure
exactly
how the woman died.  I was told the baron was displeased with her in some way. 
She supposedly died from…injuries resulting from her punishment.”

“Her
punishment?”  Arbuckle felt sick.  “What type of punishment?”

“Flogging,
milord.”  Graving’s eyes remained fixed upon the table.

“When
did this happen?”

“Some
days ago, milord.”  Still Graving averted his eyes.

“How
many
days ago, Chief Magistrate?”

“Three,
milord.”

“
Before
the arson.  So why isn’t that case here?  Why haven’t I reviewed the judgement
against Baron Ledwig?”

“No
crime was committed, milord.  It was simply a case of punishment that—”

“No
crime
was committed?”  Arbuckle surged to his feet, no longer able to
restrain his rage.  “A woman was beaten to death, and you say no crime was
committed?”

“Milord,
this is not a case of—”

“It’s
murder, Chief Magistrate!”

“Milord!” 
Graving’s voice quivered with anger.  “She was a
commoner
.  Her brothers
are commoners.  The law states that a commoner cannot charge a noble with a
crime.  Therefore, there
was
no crime.  The law—”

“The
law is
wrong
, Chief Magistrate!  When commoners feel they have to take
matters into their own hands because they can’t trust the authorities to seek
justice, there’s something wrong with the law!  The common people of this
empire have just as much a right to justice as any noble!  Until it’s given to
them, this entire city—this entire
empire
—is wrong! 
You
are
wrong!”

Graving
replied with tight lips and a furrowed brow.  “No charges were filed, so this
sad accident was not brought to my attention as an official matter.  It’s not
my responsibility.  My duty is to execute the law, not moral whims.”

The
prince couldn’t believe his ears.  How could Graving sleep at night if he
regarded pursuing justice for murder as a whim? 

“No,
I guess it’s not your responsibility, but it
is
mine.  As this crime of
arson must be answered for under the law, so must this crime of murder.” 
Arbuckle sat back down, still fuming, but at least able to think straight. 
“Tennison, summon Chief Constable Dreyfus and tell him to place Baron Ledwig
under arrest.  I’ll conduct a trial as soon as it can be arranged.  Send word
to all the senior nobles and magistrates in the city to attend.  No excuses. 
Also, the baron’s family, his household staff, and any other witnesses to the
beating of his servant and to the act of arson are ordered to present
themselves at the trial as witnesses.”

“Yes,
milord.”

“Milord
Prince, I—”

“Will
attend the trial also, Chief Magistrate, or I’ll find you derelict of your duty
and strip you of your office.  Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Yes,
milord.”  Graving glared, whirled, and strode out, followed by a bustling
Tennison.

The
door closed behind them, and the room fell silent, save for the creak of a boot
as someone shifted, Arbuckle’s pounding heart, and the scratch of his scribe’s
pen.

“Did
you get all that, Verul?”

“Every
word, milord.”

“Good. 
Have it written on my headstone.”  Arbuckle stood, and his guards closed in
around him.  “If they wanted me dead before, they’ll
really
want me dead
after this.”