A Kingdom Falls (The Mancer Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

“Yes.”

“Mmm.”  Rebecca looked round the room.  “My bedroom looks like a slaughterhouse.  Let’s go through to the reception room while it is cleaned.  I could do with a drink.”

William nodded and walked back to the bedroom door.  Opening it, he stepped through.  “You!” he called to the two guards at the opposite end of the room.

“Sir!”

“Outside.”

“Sir.”

Once the guards had left, William walked into the room, followed by Queen Rothgal who made her way to the drinks cabinet.  Pouring herself a large glass of wine, she downed it in one long gulp.  “Do you want one?”

“No.”

Rebecca poured herself another large glass and made her way towards the balcony.

William slowly looked around the room, taking in every detail.  Satisfied that everything was in its correct place, he joined Rebecca.  She was leaning on the balcony wall, looking out across the deep lake.

“The water looks jet black.”

“Yes, it does.”

Rebecca bowed her head and let out a huge breath.

“Are you ok?”

“No,” Rebecca half-laughed.  “Some bastards have just tried to kill me.”

“They failed.”

“I’ll drink to that.”  Rebecca raised her glass to the sky before taking a drink.

“You coped well.”

“I am the Queen of this kingdom; what other choice do I have except to cope well?”

“True.”

“True.”  Rebecca gently shook her head.

The pair of them waited in silence until they heard the door to the reception room open and footsteps making their way towards them.

“Ah, Captain Philips,” said Rebecca.

“Ma’am?”

“If you wish wine, there is some in the drinks cabinet.”

“I am fine, thank you, ma’am.”

“Right.  Gentlemen, what do you think of what has just happened?”

“I think we are damned lucky to have discovered the assassination attempt and that you were not hurt,” stated John Philips.

“Thank you, Captain.  I was well protected by William and his associate.”

“I know, but…”

“We have been over this a hundred times, Captain.  We knew there was going to be an attempt on my life at night in the palace, but did not know when.  We had to do what we did to draw out the attackers.  I am safe and they are either dead or caught.  We succeeded.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So, as I was saying – what do you think of what has just happened?”

“It makes no sense for Farah Sharpe to attempt to assassinate you,” stated William.  “She has very little support that we know of, and is too far down the line of ascension to have a valid claim.”

“So Dylon Moore was lying?” said John.

“No, I don’t believe he was,” said William.

“What makes you think that?” asked Rebecca.

“Someone wants us to know it was Sharpe.”

“Why?” added John.

“That I do not know.”

“Maybe someone is using her?” said John.  “If she was successful, a civil war would start and throw the Twin Kingdoms into chaos, allowing… someone – who, I don’t know – a chance at the crown, and if she failed, then she is an acceptable loss.”

“I agree,” said Rebecca; “however, if they are that clever, then there must be other links in the chain, or else, Farah would just give up her backer’s name to save her life.”

“Maybe,” muttered William.

“Pardon?” said Rebecca.

“It’s nothing, your Majesty,” dismissed William with a wave of his hand.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca gave her bodyguard a hard stare, which he ignored.

“Sooo, what do we do now?” asked Captain Philips, trying to ease the tension.

Giving one last hard stare, Rebecca broke eye contact with William and turned her attention to John.  “We do nothing.  William will send some of his ‘
spies
’ to watch Farah Sharpe and discover what is happening in her household.

“As for Mister Moore, he will die tonight – a quick clean death – then he and the other assassins will be buried in nameless graves.”  Rebecca finished her wine.  “As for now?  Well, I don’t know about you, but I am going to bed.  Captain Philips, would you be so good as to arrange an escort to take me to a guest bedroom and have someone call my maid?”

“She is outside the door,” said John.

“Excellent.  So it’s just the escort then.”

“At once, ma’am,” said Captain Philips as he went to discharge his orders.

“Well, William, are you going to tell me what is on your mind?”

“Not yet, your Majesty.”

“William…”

“Once I am certain, I will let you know.”

“Your Majesty!” a woman’s voice called out.  “I was so worried.”

“Ah, saved by the maid,” said Rebecca before raising her voice.  “It is ok, Val, I am fine!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Val.  Now stop fussing.  I have things I need you to do…”

William phased out the women’s voices as he thought back on what had happened this night, especially what he thought he had heard Dylon say as he was marched out – ‘
He cometh’
.  It may have been nothing, yet he would have liked a bit of time with Moore to make sure.  However, that would now be impossible without arousing suspicion, and he did not want to do that.  His spy network may not be what it once was, but it should still be able to get to the bottom of this mystery, along with discovering what Farah Sharpe was up to.

***

Three hours later – in the Archbishop’s office

Deacon Brown stood silently next to Archbishop Peak’s desk, as Peak slowly paced in his nightgown, whilst reading from a piece of paper.

“Serious news, Brown?”

“Yes, your Grace.”

“Why would Farah Sharpe attempt an assassination on the Queen?”

“That is a mystery.  She is too far removed from the line of ascension, and the chaos it would cause would be of no benefit to her whatsoever,” pondered Brown.

“Maybe Reif Rothgal put her up to it?” suggested Peak.

“Maybe, but what would she have to gain?  And why would Reif risk civil war now?  He is not that stupid.”

Peak stopped pacing and tapped his chin with the piece of paper, thoughtfully.  “Exactly.  Why would Reif risk civil war now?  Why would the Craktoneons allow their man to do something so stupid?”

“They wouldn’t.”

“I agree.”

Peak placed the paper on his desk and tapped his finger three times on it.  “I take it that
our
candidate has not been… creative?”

“No, Amanda Rothgal–Ackroyd is loyal to the Church and will only act if we instruct.”

“I thought so.”  Peak pulled out his chair and sat down.  “I want to know immediately if our people in the palace find out anything new.”

“Yes, your Grace.”

“In the meantime, I suppose we had better send a letter to the palace saying how pleased we are that our dear Queen is still alive.”

“Yes, your Grace.”

***

The next day – the Reif Rothgal Estate

Lying naked in bed, Reif grabbed the hair of Lady Prue Carnagie as she took his cock deep into her mouth.  “There is nothing like a good morning blow job,” moaned Reif as Lady Carnagie continued to demonstrate her bedroom skills.  “Sheesh, you could teach whores, Prue.”

Removing Reif’s cock from her mouth, Prue smiled, wickedly.  “I do like sucking cock.  My husband says I’m very good at it.”

“And he’s right,” laughed Reif as he gently forced Prue’s head back down.

Prue gave a small laugh and resisted.  “I am a bad woman.”

Reif applied more pressure.  “You are a very bad woman.”

“A bad and wicked woman?”

Reif grabbed more hair.  “A very bad and wicked woman.”

“I need to be punished.”

“Oh yes, you do,” smiled Reif.  Looking into Prue’s eyes, he forced her head down even lower.

Prue stopped resisting and slipped her mouth all the way down Reif’s cock.

“For fuck sake,” gasped Reif.  “You really are a very bad and wicked woman.”

There was a knock at the door.  “Yes, Prue, that’s it.  Oh yes, that’s it.”

There was a more urgent and louder knock at the door.  “Oh, you have to be fucking joking!” declared Reif.

Another knock and a muffed voice.  “Reif, open up!  This is important.”

“Fuck!” shouted Reif as he tried to disengage himself from Prue.  “Prue, stop.  Oh shit, Prue, no, stop.”  Reif reluctantly placed his hands on Prue’s shoulders and pushed.  “Prue, stop.”

Prue released his cock and stared angrily at him.

“Sorry.”

“Mmm,” said Prue as she grabbed the covers and rolled over, putting her back to him.

“Sorry,” muttered Reif as he got out of bed and pulled on his trousers.  Walking to the foot of the bed, he called out, “Enter, and this had better be bloody good!”

The door opened and in walked a man in his mid-twenties.

“Alex, this had bloody better be serious…”

“It is, Reif,” said Alex Weir, walking up to and stabbing his friend with a finger on the cross, which had been branded over Reif’s heart.  “That serious.”

“Oh.”

“Morning, Alex,” called out Prue.

“Morning, Prue,” replied Alex.

“Where is my husband?”

“Most likely, still blind drunk in his room, Prue.”

“Yes, he did drink a lot.”

“More than he thought, Prue.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Alex,” said Lady Carnagie with one of her famous wicked smiles.

“I saw the little blue glass bottle, Prue.”

“Look,” interrupted Reif, “if you two have quite finished...”

“It’s okay, darling,” said Prue, getting out of bed and allowing Alex to see her naked.

“You are a stunningly gorgeous woman, Prue,” stated Alex as he admired the view.

“I know, Alex,” said Prue, placing her hands on her hips and twisting slightly side to side, “and I have great tits.”

“Prue!” exclaimed Reif.  “Really!”

“Well, it’s true,” stated Prue as she bent down, picked up her dress, and pulled it over her head.

The men watched, mesmerised despite themselves, as Prue dressed and sashayed towards them.  Kissing Reif on the cheek, she said, “I had better go and play the dutiful wife.  I’ll leave you boys to play your politics.”

“Goodbye, Prue,” said Alex.

“Later,” said Reif.

“Goodbye, boys.”  With that, Lady Prue Carnagie opened the door and left the room.

“You know you are playing with fire, Reif,” said Alex.

“I can handle her husband.”

“It’s not her husband I am talking about.”

“I can handle Lady Carnagie.”

“Really?”

“As well as any man.”

“No man can handle her.  She burns too bright.”

“But what a way to go,” smiled Reif.

“Right.  Anyway, Reif, the news...”

“So what is this important news, then?” asked Reif, walking towards a table with a wine bottle on it.

“There has been an assassination attempt on the Queen.”

“Successful?”

“No.”

Reif picked up the bottle and shook it.  It was empty.  “Do we know who attempted the assassination?”

“Farah Sharpe.”

“Farah!”  Reif placed the bottle down and made his way to a bell pull next to his bed.  Pulling the cord, he said, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Why would Farah be stupid enough to attempt to kill the Queen?  She has nothing to gain.”

“That is what our fellow Craktoneons are trying to figure out.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter!” boomed out Reif.

A male servant entered.  “You rang, my lord?”

“Yes, bring me my breakfast.”  Reif half-turned to Alex.  “Do you want anything?”

“Please.”

Returning his attention to the servant, he said, “Bring me enough breakfast for me and my friend.”

“Yes, my lord,” bowed the servant and left.

Reif Rothgal remained silent until the servant had closed the door.  “Do my parents know yet?”