Dark Lady's Chosen (6 page)

Kiara dusted herself off and motioned for Hothan to take her place at the hearth. “Thank you. There’s something stuck at this end, too. Please, try your luck.” She handed him the poker. After a few minutes, Hothan gave a hard push and bits of rock fell to the ground.

Kiara bent down and picked up one of the bits, turning it in her hands.

“That’s strange,” she mused. She looked at Hothan. “You’re quite sure the thing jammed in up above was a rock?”

Hothan nodded. “More like a shaped rock, from a building. It had been chiseled.”

Kiara looked at Cerise and the others. “This is the same—look at the tool marks.”

“Someone meant for the chimney to be plugged. They meant for us to suffocate,” Alle said quietly.

The seventh bells tolled outside. Macaria jumped up. “I’m due to meet with Carroway and the bards,” she said, rushing into Cerise’s room to change clothes. “I’ll find out if they’ve heard anything—or seen anyone around the rooftop. And I promise to bring back fresh pastries if cook hasn’t sent some up by then.” Macaria slipped past the guards and into the hallway.

“What now?” Alle asked. “One of us has been in the rooms at all times.”

Kiara took the rock and dropped it down the garderobe. “Who came near the fireplace?”

Alle frowned. “When I’ve been in the rooms, only the servants who deliver the firewood.

Macaria and I take turns leaving for meals, but it’s usually the same two men who bring the wood and set the fire morning and evening.”

“Did you notice anything different? Did they spend longer than usual or do anything out of the ordinary?” Cerise asked.

Alle thought for a moment, and then shook her head. “I have to admit—so long as they came in and went straight to the fireplace and left without touching anything, I didn’t hover over them. I don’t remember them acting oddly.”

“To most of us, servants are nearly invisible,” Cerise said quietly. “That makes them the perfect spies—and the perfect assassins.”

“No one asked to enter your rooms except for the fire starters, and the kitchen servant who brought up your supper,” Ammond said. “I agree with Lady Alle. It was the same two men who usually come, and there was nothing about it that stood out in my mind.”

Kiara looked to Ammond. “See if you can find the servants who brought the wood yesterday—morning and evening. Say that the logs were too green and didn’t burn well. Or you might say I didn’t like the way the fire was set. Anything to give you an excuse to see if the two regular fire starters made the rounds yesterday and whether anyone is acting suspiciously. We probably can’t prove who did this, but perhaps we’ll flush out some information.”

“Done, m’lady,” Ammond said with a bow, quickly leaving the room.

“Now, we wait,” Kiara said, glancing at Alle, who nodded. “Whoever did this will know something went wrong once it’s clear we’re not dead. If we’re lucky, he or she will double back to figure out what happened. And if we’re not lucky… maybe whoever’s behind this will wait a while before trying something else.”

Ammond returned within a candlemark. “I found one of the fire starters,” he reported.

“Caught up with him when he came back to the woodshed for another load. His name is Lasset, and he’s been at the palace all his life, except for when he ran away last year to hide from Jared. He’s an older man, and he was most distressed that m’lady was unhappy with her fire,” Ammond said. “Once I got him to stop apologizing, he mentioned that he hadn’t seen Sarrey—that’s his partner—since last night. Seems Sarrey missed making the rounds this morning, and left Lasset

with the whole job. He says he doesn’t do your rooms until after tenth bells in case m’lady wants to sleep late.”

“What about Sarrey?” Kiara asked.

“That’s the interesting part. As I was coming back from the woodshed, there were guards out behind the stables. I went over to see what the excitement was about, and it seems that someone put a knife in Sarrey’s back sometime last night.” He grimaced. “And since it’s a sure bet that Sarrey didn’t stab himself, that means someone didn’t want him answering any questions.”

“Thank you,” Kiara said quietly, sitting down. “That will be all. Say nothing of this to anyone.”

Ammond and Hothan bowed low and went back to their post in the hallway. “Damn! We still don’t know whether we’re up against one plotter or more than one—or even what they hope to gain.”

Alle smiled conspiratorially. “Let’s try to get our minds off what happened. At least until we know what’s behind it. I suggest something far more fun—like taking bets on how long it will be until Carroway and Macaria finally admit they’re in love.”

Kiara chuckled. “All last year while we were on the road, Carroway kept writing ballads and dedicating them to her. Honestly, he’s moon struck over her whenever she’s not around, and when she comes near, he pretends that he’s all business!”

Cerise built a new fire with fresh kindling and wood from the pile next to the hearth. “I’ve never seen two people so attracted to each other make everything so complicated. It doesn’t take a seer to know the girl’s head over heels for him. If he’s worried about getting involved with her while he’s her patron, then why not find her another patron—like Lady Eadoin? ‘Tis what many a lord of the manor has done when a pretty young ward has stolen his heart.”

Despite everything, Kiara chuckled. “Or Macaria could take a lesson from Tris and me and combine falling in love with being outlaw vagabonds!”

Just then the door opened. Macaria entered and set the basket of breads on the table, turning away quickly. Even so, it was obvious that she had been crying.

Alle exchanged concerned glances with Kiara and took a step toward Macaria. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Macaria stifled a sob and turned back toward them. “They’ve sent him away!” she said, struggling to maintain her composure. “Crevan’s banished Carroway from Shekerishet.”

“Why?” Kiara gasped.

Alle moved to offer Macaria a glass of water, but Macaria waved her away. She began to pace. “It’s all over the palace. You know how careful Carroway was to never be alone with the queen. One or more of us were always, always here if he came to the suite, and he didn’t come often. But the old rumors, about him and his patronesses, they just won’t go away. Someone at court spun a new story. They’re saying that he seduced the queen, that with the king gone, they’ve been lovers—”

Kiara paled. “Neither of us would ever betray Tris like that.”

Macaria wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Most folks don’t let facts get in the way of a good story. Paiva and Bandele, two of our closest minstrel friends, think it’s being put around by Lady Guarov. She’s got a mean tongue, and she was a friend of Lady Nadine.”

The others took her meaning. Nadine was the noblewoman King Bricen banished years before for forcing Carroway into an affair when he was barely in his teens.

“Where’s Carroway?” Alle asked, as Cerise laid a hand in comfort on Kiara’s shoulder.

Macaria drew a ragged breath. “He’s under house arrest at the Dragon’s Rage Inn, until the king returns. If it weren’t for Carroway’s friendship with the king, Crevan would have probably put him in the dungeon. As it is, he’s forbidden from returning to court or being in the presence of the queen, on pain of death.” She looked from Kiara to Alle to Cerise. “What are we going to do? He’ll be charged with high treason.”

Kiara drew a deep breath. Her heart was racing.
If the gossips believe the rumors, then only
two courses are possible—that we conspired together or that he forced me. The penalty for
either is death or exile. There’s no doubt about the paternity of the baby, thank goodness,
but after the birth…

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing we dare do,” Cerise said quietly. “The charges may be against Carroway, but they implicate the queen. She can’t lift a finger to help him without seeming to confirm the rumors.” She shook her head. “We knew there were nobles here who lost their chance at power when Tris took an outland bride. There are Margolan interests that benefit from disgracing Kiara. And then there are Curane’s spies and Jared’s loyalists who stand to gain if there were any question about the suitability of the child to take the crown. Lady Nadine has a powerful motive for revenge. There are too many suspects, and we don’t even know if we’re fighting one or all of them.”

“Aunt Eadoin will know what to do,” Alle said. “I’ll find out what she’s heard. She’ll know all the players. I’d been thinking of asking her if we could come to stay at her manor for a while to get you away from the palace and out of danger. Brightmoor is small and all of her servants have been with her forever. It would be so much easier to spot an intruder or an outsider.”

Kiara nodded, and met Alle’s eyes. “Go to her. We need all the help we can get on this.

Damn them! One by one, all our friends become targets. We’ve got to figure out who’s behind this, or Tris could win the battle to find his court fighting amongst itself.

“The more we stay secluded in our rooms—trying to thwart the assassin—the freer the gossips are to talk,” Kiara said, trying to still her own emotions. “But if we let it be known about the attacks—assuming anyone would believe us now—it undermines Tris’s authority.

He’ll look unable to control his own court or assure my safety. If either of the rumors makes it back to Isencroft, father will be outraged, and the nobles will push him to save face. He’s already in a precarious position with the divisionists. This could force him into two losing choices—to do nothing and appear weak, or to break the treaty and declare hostilities.

Isencroft can’t afford a war—and neither can Margolan.”

Upstairs at the Dragon’s Rage Inn, Master Bard Riordan Carroway paced the small, spare room. Outside, the two guards who had escorted him at sword’s point from Shekerishet kept watch. Carroway ran a hand back through his long, blue-black hair. His stomach had been knotted since Crevan told him what the rumors alleged. Nothing Carroway had said moved Crevan to change his pronouncement of banishment, and in the absence of the king, the seneschal’s word was law.

A servant arrived within a few candlemarks after Carroway was imprisoned in his room. The servant brought the contents of Carroway’s room at the palace, confirmation that the banishment was expected to be permanent. His instruments were propped carefully against one wall. Clothing spilled from a large trunk. A smaller trunk held sundry personal belongings. On the table, dinner sat untouched.

Carroway looked up sharply as the door opened, half expecting to see soldiers come to move him to the dungeon. Macaria slipped into the room, lowering the hood of her cloak.

She looked drawn and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

“Oh, Carroway!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I came as soon as I could. Are you all right?”

Carroway gave a bitter smile. “For someone accused of high treason, tolerably well.”

“But it’s not true. We all know it’s not. King Martris will believe you. You’re his best friend.”

Carroway sighed. “I’d like to believe that. But I’ve also heard enough stories about the kings of the Winter Kingdoms to know that more than one was betrayed by his best friend and his queen.” He sank into a chair, his long-fingered hands clasped tightly together. “Besides, the damage is done. It’s not just the charges against me. Everything that’s being said also hurts Kiara. Margolan can find a new master bard easier than it can a new queen.” He avoided meeting her eyes. “If I were chivalrous, I imagine I’d write a flowery note protesting my innocence and then have the good manners to hang myself, saving Tris the trouble. It might even make a good ballad.”

“Don’t joke about things like that.”

Carroway shrugged. “It’s one of the better options.”

“What do you mean?”

Carroway looked at her with a pained expression. “The usual penalty for high treason is hanging, or if the king feels theatrical, beheading. Throw in adultery with the queen, and there’s precedent for being drawn and quartered.” Impelled to move, he stood and began to pace once more. “If Tris decides to spare my life, the next possibility is confinement in one of the citadels of the Sisterhood, forced to take vows to the Lady, that sort of thing. If I were to be locked away at Westmarch, I might not mind too much—they had some Keepers there who were fine musicians—except that confinement traditionally includes castration, to make the point.” He grimaced. “Not a pleasant thought.”

Carroway turned away from Macaria, unable to watch the expression on her face. “Exile has its own set of complications. It would depend on how clearly the king let his displeasure be known. Out of the seven kingdoms, Tris is related by blood, marriage or alliance to five of them. Nargi and Trevath are hardly prospects,” he said distastefully. “No other court would welcome me if it would sour relationships with Margolan. Neither would the most powerful nobles. That would leave the lesser houses, the ones that would be unlikely to be noticed by the crown, or the inns. I’d be playing for dinner and a place in the stable, but I might keep body and soul together.”

There was another option, one he would not speak aloud.
While they might not offer me a
bard’s position, there’d be more than a few of the nobility who would welcome me via the
back entrance, trading shelter for… favors. Lady Nadine wasn’t the first to offer, just the
most

aggressive. It would keep a roof over my head—at least while my looks last. Sweet Chenne!

Am I reduced to whoring already?

Macaria slipped up behind him and put her arms around him. Carroway stiffened at her touch. “We’ve talked about it, the others and I. Paiva, Bandele, Tadghe and Halik all agree that if you’re exiled, we’ll go with you. We stand a better chance together.” She rested her cheek against his back, and Carroway closed his eyes.
Please don’t say you love me. Not
now. I don’t think I could bear it.
He used all of his acting skill to keep his face neutral as he turned, gently disengaging from her embrace.

“What would that serve? Without me, you all get promoted,” he said, although his smile was lopsided. “You have the talent to become the new master bard. Your music has real magic.