The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (50 page)

BOOK: The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4)
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“That’s far enough!” Garrett cried, pointing his staff at the Matron.

Scupp howled again, a blood-chilling sound, answered now by a dozen other howls as the rest of the pack caught up, surrounding the disheveled Matron as she cowered in the street. Diggs and Warren shared a triumphant claw swipe between them.

“I knew it!” Matron Shelbie hissed, her eyes filled with hatred as she stared up at Garrett, “You are in league with demons!”

The ghouls hooted with manic laughter.


Demons?
” Garrett said, shaking his head, “No… they aren’t demons. They’re the people of this city. This is their home as much as it is anybody else’s, and they don’t want to lose it to a traitor like you!”

“Traitor?” Matron Shelbie hissed, “How dare you? I have only ever served this city and its Eternal Mother! It is
you
who have betrayed the city to Her enemies!”

“We know, Shelbie!” Garrett yelled, “We know about you and the spy!”

Matron Shelbie stared back at him with her face screwed up into a mask of confusion.

Suddenly, a ghoul beyond the rooftops let out a warning howl, and the others in the square turned to face the incoming danger.

Four green armored chariots pulled by barded horses rumbled into the market square from the direction of the temple. A dozen Templars jumped out as they rolled to a halt, followed by two green robed Matrons.

“Serepheni!” Garrett cried, then turned to the other, “Matron Brix!”

“Arrest these traitors at once, Brix!” Shelbie howled as she got to her feet and pointed toward Garrett and the ghouls in turn.

Brix nodded coldly toward Garrett before turning to address Matron Shelbie. “You stand accused of High Treason, Matron Shelbie,” Brix shouted, "You are summoned to appear before the High Priestess to answer for yourself."

The ghouls stared at each other in bewilderment then gave ground as Brix's Templars moved to surround Matron Shelbie.

Garrett looked at Matron Serepheni, but the red-haired priestess only gave him a sad look in return.

"You!" Matron Shelbie cried, pointing at Garrett, "How did you..." She looked at Serepheni, her eyes widening. "No!" she gasped, "Lies! Lies!"

"We found the gold, Shelbie," Brix said, "We found it all... the pardon too."

Shelbie stared back at Brix, a look of disgust on her face. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"We searched your quarters," Matron Brix sighed, "We found everything."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Brix, but I assure you, I will get to the bottom of it, and, if I find out you had a part in this, you'll go down too!" Shelbie said, then turned her attention to Serepheni again, "I'll have your skin for this, Serepheni! I'll have it nailed to the temple doors!"

Serepheni's eyes fell and then she looked away.

"Take her back to the temple," Matron Brix said.

The Templars moved in, seizing Matron Shelbie by the arms as she struggled to pull free of them.

"Unhand me!" she shouted, "I will remember this! I will remember
all
of you! The High Priestess will sort you out, oh yes! You will all live long enough to regret this, but no longer than that,
I swear it!
"

The Templars pulled her toward a waiting chariot as she writhed and twisted in their grip. She looked back over her shoulder toward Garrett as they led her away. "You will suffer for this, boy!" she screamed, "You will
suffer
for this!"

Suddenly, Matron Shelbie managed to wrest one of her arms free and point back, accusingly at Garrett with her finger. "I curse you, demon!" she cried, "I curse you to a thousand deaths! May the flesh rot from..."

She never finished her sentence, for, at that moment, a spinning blade, hurled from a nearby rooftop sank into the hollow of her throat, silencing her.

All eyes went to the rooftop where a man in black leather, wearing a facemask and goggles, stood with another throwing knife poised in his black-stained hand.

"The spy!" Garrett cried, pointing at the man on the roof.

A moment later, the man was gone, vanished over the peak of the roof with a dozen howling ghouls in close pursuit. Many of the Templars gave chase as well, but they had no hope of catching him.

Garrett turned to see Matron Brix and Serepheni kneeling over the crumpled body of Matron Shelbie. Garrett walked slowly to the dying Matron's side, feeling more curiosity than anything else.

"Don't touch the blade," Matron Serepheni said, waving Brix's hand away, "Look at her eyes... She's been poisoned."

Matron's Shelbie's eyelids fluttered over her unevenly dilated eyes. "What... what happened?" she rasped wetly.

"Your friend is covering his tracks, I think," Garrett said.

Serepheni looked up with sorrow in her eyes.

Matron Shelbie felt at the wound in her throat with trembling fingertips. Garrett could now see that the assassin's dagger was shaped like a winged serpent. "How did you do it?" Shelbie gasped, coughing up blood, "How did you..."

Her gaze drifted away, and her last breath escaped as a gurgling hiss.

Serepheni pulled off her headscarf and laid it across the dead Matron's face. She whispered a prayer to the goddess and bowed her head.

Brix showed no such sentimentality toward the dead woman.

"What did you find?" Garrett asked.

Brix looked up at him and sighed. "We found a chest full of Chadiri gold hidden in her room, along with a pardon signed by the High Inquisitor himself, granting her safe passage throughout the empire after the fall of Wythr."

"I don't understand how she could betray us," Serepheni said, her voice weary.

"The High Priestess would have gotten to the bottom of it," Brix sighed, "which is probably why Shelbie was killed."

"Could someone else have put those things in her room?" Serepheni asked.

"You tell me," Matron Brix said, eyeing Serepheni closely.

Serepheni let out a weary sigh and rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired, Brix,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired before.”

“Go home, Serepheni,” Matron Brix sighed, “We’ll clean up here.”

Serepheni nodded gratefully and then looked at Garrett. “I’m sorry, Garrett,” she said, “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” Garrett said, “but I’m all right, really.”

She squinted at him then. “What happened to your face?” she asked.

“Long story,” Garrett laughed, “I’ll tell you later.”

She nodded and then got to her feet again. Two of the Templars accompanied her back to her chariot and rode away as Matron Shelbie’s body was loaded into one of the remaining chariots.

“I heard about what happened at Shadetree,” Brix said as she stood up beside Garrett, “I’ll have a word with Captain Gaulve on your behalf.”


Boneash!
” Garrett cursed.

“What?” Brix asked.

“Ah, I sorta have Captain Gaulve locked up in my basement,” Garrett said, cringing at the look on Matron Brix’s face, “and he’s kinda covered in zombie bites.”

Brix stared at him with a disbelieving scowl.

“I can explain,” Garrett said, “I really can. Just give me a chance!”

Matron Brix rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she growled, “You can explain it on the way to your house.

Garrett followed her back to her chariot, casting one last nervous glance toward the skyline as he heard the hunting howls of the ghouls fading into the distance.

Chapter Thirty

Garrett slept very late the following day and awoke sometime around noon, feeling better than he had in a long time. He lingered a while in the bath before finally toweling off and dressing in his most comfortable robe, hood, and boots and heading downstairs.

He nodded his thanks at the undead servants who were almost done scrubbing the bloodstains from the hall floor. He smiled to himself then, remembering the look on Captain Gaulve’s face when Matron Brix had let him out of the cellar storeroom. He had not been very happy to see Garrett standing beside her. Actually, now that he thought about it, Garrett had been slightly more
behind
her than beside her. Although the Matron had forbidden the Templars to seek any retribution against the young necromancer, the look on Snuff’s face as he cradled his bandaged hand had convinced Garrett to stay clear of Logate for the foreseeable future.

Garrett paused at the door of the kitchen as the wonderful warm smell of some strange spice washed over him. He stepped inside to see Caleb and Tom standing together in front of the oven. Tom was slowly stirring something inside a large cook pot with a long-handled wooden spoon clutched in the hand of his uninjured arm. He gave Caleb an unsure look, and the zombie thief answered with a reassuring groan. Garrett noted that the carving knife was still tucked into Caleb’s belt, but he decided not to say anything about it.

“What are you guys making?” Garrett asked as he took his seat at the table.

Caleb looked at him and moaned a greeting. He shambled over to the cupboard and pulled out a bowl and spoon. He slowly walked back over to the pot and, with some difficulty, wrested the wooden ladle from Tom’s fingers. Caleb plopped several globs of the brownish porridge into the bowl and then handed the stirring spoon back to Tom before carrying the steaming bowl over to set on the table in front of Garrett.

“Thanks,” Garrett said, dipping his spoon into the bowl with no idea of what to expect. He pulled up a heaping spoonful of what appeared to be boiled grain and chopped dates, smelling of some spice that Garrett had never smelled before. When he had blown it cool, he tasted it.

“That’s really good!” Garrett said, “What is it?”

Caleb moaned.

“Well, whatever it is, I like it,” Garrett said, taking another bite.

Tom looked at Caleb again, and Caleb nodded his approval.

Garrett had just started in on his second bowl when an angry moan sounded from the hallway. Garrett turned to find a mud-covered zombie standing in the doorway, awaiting further orders, even as one of the zombies tasked with cleaning the hallway did his best to scrub the first zombie’s muddy footprints from the floor.

“Oh, you’re finished,” Garrett said.

The muddy zombie nodded slowly and groaned.

“All right then,” Garrett said, “Everybody to the garden.”

It took him a few minutes to round up the rest of the servants, but, eventually, he was able to gather them all in the walled garden behind the house. A large mound of freshly dug dirt lay next to a fairly broad and deep hole in the black earth of an old flowerbed. The bodies of the three zombies killed in previous day’s battle lay, wrapped in linen, on the other side of the hole.

Pointless sentimentality
spoke Uncle Tinjin’s voice in the back of Garrett’s mind, and Garrett smiled to himself.

“I wanted to thank you all for saving my life yesterday,” Garrett said, addressing the assembled zombies, “You saved our home too, and I am proud of you all.”

Caleb replied with a low moan, and several of the other zombies did as well.

“I’m sorry that some of you got killed,” Garrett said, “and I wanted to say
thanks
to them as well.”

Garrett walked over and knelt beside the three linen-wrapped bodies. “Coachman,” Garrett said, “You always did a good job taking me and Uncle wherever we needed to go, and I’m gonna miss you.” He paused a moment, trying to think of something to say for the other two.

“I never really knew you other guys’ names,” he admitted, “I guess I don’t know most of your names, really.” He looked around at the other zombies with a sad smile. “Maybe Uncle is right… maybe names aren’t really important… but you guys are still part of my family, and I wanted you to know that. Thank you for saving my life.”

Garrett stood up again and then stooped to lift the shoulders of one of the dead men and drag him toward the pit. Caleb stepped forward to help him, and the other zombies joined in as well.

After they had packed the last shovelful of earth over the grave, Garrett wiped his hands and patted Caleb on the back. “Let’s go back inside,” he said.

As they went back in, Garrett heard a knock at the door. He rushed to open it.

He almost didn’t recognize the heavily bundled figure standing on his doorstep, but the way she rushed into his arms a moment later cleared up any confusion.

“Marla!” he cried, returning her hug.

“I just found out,” she said, “Garrett, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine!”

Marla pulled back her hood and yanked down the red scarf that covered her face to reveal the concern in her eyes. She gasped then and put her hand to his cheek. “Oh, Garrett!”

“It’s nothing!” Garrett laughed, gently pulling her hand away from the scars left by Claude’s fingernails.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she looked as though she was about to say more, but Garrett stepped in and silenced her with a gentle kiss.

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