Blood and Memory (23 page)

Around the time Ylena and Pil entered Dorchyster Green, Jessom was standing in a courtyard sharing with his king the new information on Leyen he had been able to unearth. Deep down he knew he was reaching with this, but Celimus had threatened him and Jessom knew it was easier to appease the King with some pretense at intrigue than to say he had nothing further to impart. This was all about survival now and better a busybody noblewoman’s back be flayed than his own.

“And you think the Lady Helyn could be a traitor?” Celimus spun around, somewhat aghast at even the intimation.

“Not at all, sire!” Jessom replied smoothly. “I think she may be an unwitting accomplice—if indeed there is a crime that Leyen should answer for. We still have no confirmation that Leyen is working against the Crown.”

The King made a clicking noise with his tongue. “But still I’m suspicious. Until we hear differently from Aremys, I am obliged to consider Leyen’s actions curious.”

Jessom merely nodded.

“Tell me again. Leave out nothing.”

The Chancellor began once more. It was no use protesting. “On your advice, your majesty”—he started diplomatically—“I began some inquiries into Jorn’s activities on the night in question. It turns out that after escorting Leyen to the gatehouse, he returned to her rooms and gathered up the gown she had worn that night.”

Celimus stopped him with a finger in the air. “How do you know this?”

“He was seen leaving the castle and heading into Pearlis, majesty.”

The King’s alert mind was in full swing. “Was he acting in a guarded manner?”

“No, sire. Some of our own men, returning from an evening in the city, met Jorn, recognized him, and teased him—as soldiers are wont to do.”

“And?”

“The lad seemed in no particular hurry and in fact he mentioned to them that he was making a delivery to Lady Helyn.”

“All right. Go on,” the King replied, seemingly feeling no remorse at the boy’s death.

“I checked with Lady Helyn’s manservant, who concurs that the delivery of a gown and cape with an item of jewelry was certainly made in the early hours of the morning following our supper. The man, Amy Id, said Jorn did not tarry at the house. He apparently handed over the garments with a simple thank-you from Leyen, then left immediately.”

Celimus had already heard the account to this point, but he hoped interrogation might reveal more. “No other detours or errands?”

“Not that I can track down, sire, but…” The Chancellor hesitated and there was something in his sudden frown that piqued at the King’s interest.

“Ah,” Celimus said, leaning forward, “Now we come to it.”

Jessom had primed the King perfectly. Now he would lay the trap and lure Celimus toward it. He knew his red herring led nowhere. Still, anything to divert the King from blaming him for things not going the way he wanted. “It seems Leyen did not entirely finalize her thanks verbally. Arnyld mentioned that the note was found in the pocket of the cape, almost by chance, much later.”

“You see,” Celimus said, pacing now. “It’s the wording, almost by chance, that pricks my curiosity. Do you think it was deliberately hidden?”

Jessom shrugged slightly. “I can’t guess, sire. Leyen may not have wanted to ask Jorn to try remembering anything more detailed than a courteous thank-you.”

“So what did that note contain?” the King asked eagerly.

The chancellor shook his head. “According to the Lady Helyn, nothing of any consequence. She said it was merely a polite courtesy and she believes she must have sent it out with the day’s rubbish.”

“And you believe her?”

“She very kindly spent some time hunting for the note in my presence, just in case her memory had not served her right, sire. She called Arnyld to task over it and he too searched. There was no sign of it.”

“Hmm, perfectly plausible, I suppose.”

“As I thought too, sire, which is why I have not pushed any further.”

“How was she when you spoke with her?”

“Charming. As I said, keen to help and apologetic for her hasty action in ridding herself of the note. I sensed no guile, sire.”

“I’d still like to speak with her.”

“I anticipated as much, my lord. She awaits your pleasure.”

Celimus smiled thinly at Jessom’s smooth anticipation. “Show her in.”

Lady Helyn moved gracefully for her size. She sketched a perfect curtsy to her sovereign. “Your majesty, this is indeed a rare pleasure.”

“Come, Lady Helyn, walk a short way with me. Let me show you my new floriana garden.”

Clever
, she thought.
He knows how much I appreciate nature’s gifts
. “Of course, highness. I would be honored,” she replied, thanking Shar she had had such practice at concealing her emotions from the ladies at court. She took his proffered arm and allowed the King to guide her out of the courtyard and into an exquisitely perfumed area of a new garden. “Oh, sire, this is magnificent,” she breathed, genuinely impressed.

Celimus turned on a dazzling smile for this important lady of his court. He knew he must tread carefully. Her wealthy, influential husband would not take kindly to his wife being browbeaten for seemingly inconsequential information. “It’s not yet nearly finished, of course, but I’m glad someone who loves the work of Shar can see it at such an early stage.” He led her toward a superb rotunda. A small stone table and benches sat within. “I have ordered some parillion juice, which I hope you’ll enjoy.”

“A favorite of mine, thank you.” She inhaled the perfume about her. “The floriana display is magical, sire. Such colors! My, my.”

Celimus was nothing but charm. “Thank you, Lady Helyn. My gardeners tell me they are the most stubborn of plants. What was it one of them said now…?”

He cocked his head in thought just so and she was instantly reminded of his mother. All cold beauty, she recalled; not a skerrick of warmth helped that woman’s heart to beat. But stunning she had certainly been. No woman in Pearlis—or indeed the realm—could hold a candle to her. And the son carried all that grace and poise, the heart-stopping looks. Yet it was an eternal pity that he possessed so little of his father.

“Pardon?” Celimus said. “I missed that.”

Lady Helyn flinched. Had she spoken aloud? “Your highness. My apology. I was thinking how you resemble your beautiful mother…may Shar bless her.”

He smiled at her. “That’s generous, my lady. I am reminded often of how special she was.”

His companion nodded her head graciously, relief coursing through her.

The King continued. “Ah, yes, it comes to me now. The head gardener calls these flowers Shar’s Folly.”

“Oh, and I can understand why, my lord,” Lady Helyn gushed. “They are impossible to grow—and yet look at your glorious display. I’ll admit I did not realize you cared for such things.”

Now his expression became soft, almost apologetic. He sighed. “It’s true, my lady, that my passion runs to the hunt, my horses, and my realm, of course.”

“And your people, sire,” Lady Helyn added sagely.

“That goes without saying,” he replied evenly. “But more recently I have developed a new passion…for a certain woman, my lady, who makes my heart burn with desire. It is she who has made me appreciate some of the more genteel aspects of life,” he admitted. “This new garden is for her. It is one of several I am creating in her honor.”

There was no avoiding the issue. “You speak of Queen Valentyna, my lord?”

“Indeed. I hope we will be married by the spring’s close; I know the union will bring great joy to both realms, Lady Helyn, which brings me to why I wished to see you today.”

She was heartily glad they were interrupted by the arrival of the fruit juice, perfectly chilled, the beautifully crafted silver goblets dripping with icy water like dewdrops.

“So cool and refreshing, your highness,” Lady Helyn admitted, eager for a last chance to delay the inevitable conversation.

Leyen’s note had been shocking, to say the least. If what the young woman claimed was true, then she was indeed sitting with a madman. According to Leyen, Celimus had plotted the assassination of King Valor of Briavel, leaving his daughter vulnerable. Leyen had further claimed that Celimus also contrived the murder of that fine young man, Wyl Thirsk, who had been set not only to follow his illustrious father’s footsteps but to fill his shoes. When his life had been taken so early, so brutally, it was a matter of sincere grief for all Morgravians, but to learn that his death might have been deliberately achieved by his own sovereign had left the Lady Helyn shaken. And Leyen had kept the frightening news coming. Now Celimus was after the sister, the beautiful Ylena. Helyn had barely been able to believe the written accusation that the young woman had not only witnessed her husband’s murder but had been incarcerated in Stoneheart’s dungeon. Leyen’s message had been too brief—like a soldier’s—yet detailed. She had summarized that it was the King’s intention to marry and then destroy Valentyna, and Briavel with her. Leyen claimed that she, who knew the truth, was the only person who stood in his way.

Should the King ask questions of you, my lady, please be assured that I am a friend to you and a loyal servant of Morgravia.

The note went on to ask her to be watchful and warned that one day the realm she loved might ask her family to make difficult choices, in which case Leyen pleaded that Lady Helyn remember the secret information she had been furnished with.

There had been moments since she had read the note when Lady Bench had despaired, thinking that it was all some sort of terrible hoax. Was it truly credible? Yet her shrewd judgment of character had told her that the Leyen she had met had been honest. Furthermore Helyn Bench could not fathom what Leyen might gain by fashioning such a complex web of lies.

She swallowed another gulp of her delicious juice, not tasting it.

“Not too sweet?” Celimus inquired, dragging her thoughts back to the present.

“It’s perfect, my lord. Where were we?”

“Mmm, yes,” the King replied, deliberately distractedly, as if this visit were not the major topic on his mind right now. “I believe we were talking about why I asked you to come today.”

“That’s right, we were, my lord. How may I serve you?”

“Well, you see, it’s a matter of security. For the realm.”

“Good grief. I can’t imagine any of my petty gossip or court knowledge might assist in something so lofty, your highness,” she said, laughing gently.

“You lent a gown to a guest of the palace,” Celimus began, and she realized he meant to parry no further.

She nodded. “Yes, a lovely woman by the name of Leyen.”

He smiled in agreement. “That’s her. Did you spend any time with her, madam?”

“Indeed. A few hours. We met at the bathing pavilion. I can’t resist a new face in the palace, your highness. I pride myself on knowing all newcomers within hours of their arrival.” She tittered, affecting the gossipy voice she used with her ladies.

“What did you learn?” he asked, ignoring the affectation.

She stopped her chuckling and allowed a frown of puzzlement to take its place.

“About Leyen? Not a lot, your highness. She struck me as a particularly private person. I did learn that she was supping with you that evening and had nothing suitable to wear.”