“Oh, I say,” murmured Javes.
Chapter Forty-two
At Jusson’s request that all bodies be removed, Laurel bowed and, with Patriarch Pietr and Doyen Allwyn, took charge of the disposition of the staves, moving them back to the patriarch’s See. As they were leaving, the patriarch told the Faena that he was recalling all Staves of Office, “for it grieves me, Laurel Faena, that we could be profaning not only our churches, but dishonoring the poor, uh, people who were murdered.” Walking behind them, Archdoyen Obruesk scowled at Laurel from under his brows.
“At present, I am more concerned with the church elders using the staves, honored patriarch,” Laurel said, “as they are not healthy to be around.” His toe claws clicked against the marble floor as he left with the church clergy. “Please make sure that once I ward the room, no one enters it.” His voice faded down the hall. “And I would give serious thought to going through purification again.”
Captain Suiden had the troopers move Basel’s body out to the churchyard, where they were going to build a pyre to burn it at sunset, as Laurel also told Suiden that neither would it be healthy for the stag’s body parts to float around loose in the city. Or anywhere else.
“To have his head mounted on someone’s wall, or an apothecary to use his antlers in a potion for someone to drink would not be good, as it would become a focal point for all sorts of wickedness. We should destroy it completely, honored captain, with appropriate rites and ceremonies. That way we can counter any, hmm, adverse reactions arising from the trooper’s murder.”
“Curses, you mean?” Suiden asked. He looked around. “Groskin, you are in charge of Trooper Basel’s funeral arrangements. Vigil with full honors, everyone required to attend except those on duty rota.”
“Yes, sir.” Groskin’s voice was subdued.
“Ask the garrison troopers and Royal Guard if they would also attend.” The captain’s eyes shifted to behind me. “Take Trooper Jeffen with you to help.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant and Jeff left the room, Basel following after them.
“How convenient to be able to oversee one’s own funeral,” Jusson remarked, watching.
Even with the bodies gone, Jusson apparently decided he had enough of his throne room, and he led us down the hall to double doors guarded by the King’s Own. They flung them open, revealing a large chamber with decoration as rococo as the one in which Laurel and Chancellor Berle had first met half a lifetime ago (no nymphs or mermaids, though). As the crowd poured in, the king walked to a raised chair also guarded by the Royal Guard, and sat. Lord Esclaur and the other lordlings went to stand on one side of the king, while Suiden, Javes, and I remained in the back. The king, looking around, saw us lingering, and pointed to the other side of his chair, where Chancellor Berle and other advisors had taken up space. Chancellor Berle gave me a tight-lipped smile, her face lit with satisfaction.
King Jusson looked over the people. “Is everyone here that ought to be?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Captain Thadro said.
“Good. Bring her here.”
Royal guards escorted Losan eso Dru and her lordling captor before the king.
“This is not a trial, Losan eso Dru,” the king said. “When we are done here, you will be turned over to the Lord Magistrate to face charges of treason.”
Losan started to weep. “I’m innocent, Your Majesty. Please—”
“We found her burning papers, Your Majesty,” the lordling said. “We stopped her, but when we looked at them, they were about her dealings, not Lord Gherat’s.” Guardsmen and troopers approached with the boxes and crates. “Here they are, sire.”
“Take them over to Chancellor Berle, please,” the king said. He waited until the crates were stacked against the wall by the chancellor. “Well, Losan eso Dru, all day we’ve been dealing with conspiracies and rebellions—and each time we look up, we hear the House of Dru’s name. But when we send for our Lord Treasurer, we find that he is missing. We are sure you can see why we’d find this upsetting.”
If Lord Esclaur was a spiritual brother of Javes, then Losan of Dru was a blood sister of Ryson. She started talking immediately, going back to her days as a very junior clerk and how Gherat would have her falsify accounts, working up through larger acts of fraud and malfeasance, to how this morning she knew it had all come undone when she discovered that Lord Gherat was gone and his strongbox emptied.
“Names, Losan eso Dru,” King Jusson said. “Give us names.”
But Losan didn’t know who else was involved, as Lord Gherat had been very careful about keeping his cohorts separate and hidden. She only knew what she did because she had a nasty habit of eavesdropping, going so far as to drill holes and create hidden nooks so she could listen in to conversations held in Lord Gherat’s private chambers. As she said that, several in the room shifted uneasily.
It was the same with the rest of the witnesses—they had bits and pieces of the puzzle, but not the whole. In fact, the only information that all of them shared was that Javes was the king’s agent.
“How?” Jusson asked. “Not even my Lord Commander knew.”
“I bet Gherat did,” Berle said, her voice soft.
“We received a letter over two years ago, Your Majesty,” the furniture dealer Guarez said. “And when the captain and Lord Rabbit came to my shop, I sent word.” The old man stood with his hands shaking from fear and the palsy. “I received instructions back that if either ever returned, I was to delay them and send a message quick, and they would be taken care of.”
I glanced at King Jusson, then averted my eyes from his face. There was nothing like betrayal by a close and trusted friend. Someone so close that he was allowed to stand beside the throne and join any of the king’s conversations. Someone so trusted that he was given the keys to the kingdom’s strongbox—which he then used to overthrow the king.
“Perhaps Teram knows more, Your Majesty,” Lord Esclaur said from the other side of the dais as the guards escorted the furniture dealer out of the room.
“Perhaps,” Jusson said, nodding. “We were going to wait and question the rebels separately, but as Flavan’s and Dru’s affairs do seem to crisscross, we should examine the pretender Locival.” He looked at the Lord Commander. “Please bring Teram to me.”
It didn’t surprise me to see that the Flavan lord had regained a measure of his arrogance as he came into the chamber, his gait strong despite his broken nose and bandaged hand. However, it did surprise me to see who had arrived with him; Archdoyen Obruesk walked in behind Lord Teram, his cavernous eyes sweeping the room until they lit on me. If his glare had been a sword, I would’ve been skewered to the wall.
“We only recall asking for Teram ibn Flavan, Your Reverence,” Jusson said, a brow rising.
“We were praying together in his cell, Your Majesty.” Obruesk’s deep voice boomed out in the chamber. “He asked that I accompany him.” Teram stood next to the archdoyen, his face pious.
“Does the Church support this rebel in his effort to seize the throne?” Jusson asked, raising the other brow.
“I am only providing spiritual comfort and guidance, Your Majesty,” Obruesk replied. “As I would to any poor soul in need.”
“There’s a multitude of ‘poor souls’ in our dungeons at this moment. Why this particular one?”
Obruesk’s face went stern. “He has been threatened with sorcery, Your Majesty. The so-called Witness Circle?” he added at the king’s blank look.