[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.That had apparently impressed Lady Mondegreen, for whom combat had been a nebulous thing until the Tsurani had dragged it into her lap.So Pirojil could blame the three of them for that.He chuckled to himself.As long as he was diverting himself by blaming, he could blame the Tsurani, the King, Prince, and Regent and the gods themselves, and probably be more right than wrong.Not that laying the blame would do any good.‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘my careful, considered, thoughtful answer is the same one as my offhand, reflexive, instinctive answer: no.’ He shook his head.‘I like things just a leetle more straightforward than they are here, and this Lady Mondegreen scares the shit out of me.’‘Lady Mondegreen?’ Kethol hadn’t worked it out, yet.Pirojil would have to explain it to him slowly, later.Using very small words.One.At.A.Time.‘Yes.Her.’ Durine was nodding.‘Yeah.I’d much rather have her as a friend than an enemy, but…’‘Shit, yes.I’d rather be in a death duel with Steven Argent than that.At least with the Swordmaster you’ve got a chance to see the blade coming your way.’Durine nodded again.‘Or run away from it, without knowing that you were just running into some other blade, put in place against just that eventuality.’‘Enough chance of that if you’re a friend, eh?’‘Yeah.’She hadn’t done anything to harm them–save for wrapping them more and more tightly in local politics, and politics was a dangerous sport, and not to Pirojil’s taste.Protecting yourself was one thing.Spending twenty or more years protecting not just one baron for one little patrol, but a baby baron, through to his majority, was something else entirely.And knowing that you had been picked precisely because you had no local connections, that you understood that if anything, ever, happened to the baby, the boy, the man, it would be your fault…That would certainly compel whatever fool agreed to that to take great pains with the safety of the baby, the boy, the man.But Pirojil wasn’t that kind of fool, and he really did want to be able to sleep some time over the next twenty years, and on better than a one-in-three.‘So,’ Pirojil said, ‘we have to decide.Yes or no? Do we decide that we enjoy the taste of LaMutian conspiracy, and ask for more, with a helping of intrigue on the side? Or do what any sensible man would, and run the moment we can? And if that means leaving our pay behind, so be it.’Durine chuckled.‘I think your position on it is clear.As is mine.’‘But–’‘Shut up, Kethol.It’s my turn to speak.’ Durine shook his head.‘I’ll be clear about my choice: I am leaving.If it’s with one or both of you, that’s fine.If you want to stay behind and take service here, Kethol, I’ll wish you well, bid you goodbye, and make sure that the gold is properly divided before I go.I don’t like things complicated, and the more we get involved with this northern nobility, the more complicated things get.Not for me.’Pirojil nodded.‘I agree.Two of us say no to the Baron’s kind offer.If you want to say yes, you’re on your own.’Kethol stood silently for a moment, and then his shoulders slumped.‘You’re right, I guess.I just wanted to think about it.’‘We’ve thought.We’ve talked.Decide.’Kethol raised both palms in surrender.‘Oh, never mind.I’m with the two of you.’ He sighed.‘And if you choose to think me a fool for having considered staying, then you can just go ahead and do so.’Pirojil clapped a hand on Kethol’s shoulder.‘Well, what I think is that there are no other men I’d rather have watching my back, and that’s a fact.We’re agreed, then?’‘I already said so.’‘Good.’ Durine nodded.A thought occurred to Pirojil, but he dismissed it, or at least tried to.Manipulation was one thing; murder another.It was unlikely that Lady Mondegreen had poisoned her husband so that she could marry her lover.Wasn’t it? The Astalon priest treating the Baron would probably have been able to discern the existence of the poison, if not necessarily find a cure.No, he decided, she hadn’t murdered her husband.If she was willing to leave dead bodies in her wake in order to advance herself, there was no reason why she would have waited this long to rid herself of a troublesome husband, and the trail of bodies would have been long.Besides, Durine had known his share of cold-blooded killers and he relied on twenty years’ experience that she wasn’t such a one.In any case, it was almost over.The air was warming, peace had been made between the two most hostile of the feuding barons, and all they had to do was politely turn down Baron Morray’s and Lady Mondegreen’s generous offer, get their pay, and head south as quickly as possible, leaving LaMut behind them.Assuming that they could get their pay before they had to leave.He shivered.It might be warmer outside than it had been, but he felt colder.TWELVEMorningEverything appeared peaceful.The golden morning sun had just barely breached the eastern walls, so that it shone in through the now-unshuttered windows, splashing golden morning sunlight into Lady Mondegreen’s bedroom on the second floor of the castle.Tapestries covering the stone walls opposite the windows blazed with unexpected vibrancy, made brilliant by the golden light playing across them.An array of jars and bottles resting on her personal table glimmered like jewellery as the sunbeams reflected off their glass and porcelain surfaces, sending sparkling motes into the gloomy corners of the room.As the sun rose, the reflected light seemed to move, alive, shimmering and changing colour from golden, to silver, to white.An obviously empty bottle of fine Ravensburgh red lay on its side on the bedside table next to two glasses, one empty, one with a thimbleful of wine remaining at the bottom.Some delicacies lying on a tray beside the wine–shelled nuts, sweetmeats, and a bit of cheese–had dried during the night.On a chair beside the bed, a man’s clothing and a woman’s nightgown lay neatly folded.The bedside lantern had long since burned itself out of oil, or been quietly, peacefully extinguished.The bedclothes had been disturbed no more than bedclothes would normally have been disturbed in sleep by the two forms that lay there, intertwined, beneath the covers.It was all peaceful.The lovers lay facing one another, as if they had been gazing into one another’s eyes as they succumbed to slumber.Even what seemed to be a veritable sea of blood from their cut throats had soaked into the sheets and clotted, leaving Baron Morray and Lady Mondegreen lying together, unmoving in death.THIRTEENInvestigationThe guard had fallen asleep.White-faced, still shaking, he admitted as much.Steven Argent believed him.The Swordmaster gestured him into a chair while Tom Garnett looked on.There was no point in keeping a dead man at attention, after all, and clapping him in the dungeon could wait for a few minutes, until Steven Argent worked out what questions, if any, he ought to ask him right now.He found himself possessed of a bizarre sense of utter calm.He didn’t even ask the man when he fell asleep, or how long.How would he know?How could the idiot have been so sloppy? How could Tom Garnett have picked a sergeant who would have picked a soldier to stand guard over Morray’s suite who would have been so sloppy? How could Steven Argent have picked–Damn!‘Are you certain that you didn’t see Baron Morray go to Lady Mondegreen’s room?’ he asked, quietly.‘Nossir.I mean, yessir.I mean, yessir, I did
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]