“Something to do,” I repeated, thinking of friends killed, the attempts against my own life. “A diversion to keep from getting bored.”
Still warding the hearth, Laurel gave a low, rumbling growl, while Wyln stared at Arlis with wide, blind eyes.
“They,” Chadde prodded. “Who are ‘they’?”
“Involved in the smuggling?” Arlis asked, his hand creeping up to his wound. “Helto, Menck, Gawell and Ednoth were the main ones. There were others, not as prominent, both in the valley and the mountain villages.”
There was a jangling of bells and I looked over to see Dyfrig face the window, his knuckles white as he gripped his Staff of Office. My heart sank.
Arlis sought the Lord Commander’s face. “I admit my fault, sir, but I didn’t know about the rebellion. I didn’t! I’m no turncoat. It was only a little free trading—”
“Perhaps more than a little,” Wyln said, still hoarse. “Was that your treasure in the church offering box, human?”
“Yes, my lord,” Arlis admitted. “But that wasn’t from free trading. My share was never that much. Helto was waiting for me when I was sent for you at the garrison.”
“By himself?” Chadde didn’t wait for an answer as he frowned over the timing. “Menck must’ve already been killed, then.”
“Perhaps,” Arlis said. “Wherever he was, he wasn’t with Helto. Jeff and Laurel Faena had already left the garrison and I was returning to report that Lord Wyln was missing. Helto caught me by the Hart’s Leap and gave me a purse full of jewels and coins. Said there was more, if I did what I was told. I told him that I wasn’t interested—”
“That was an extreme about-face,” Thadro said.
“Yes, sir,” Arlis said. He managed a smile, though it trembled at the edges. “I translated in the Border embassy along with everyone else. I was a hawk.” His smile collapsed. “And then there was that damned death ship.”
When we sailed to the Border last spring, our ship’s holds were full of pelts, skins, ivory, choice hardwood and other body parts of murdered Border citizens found stored in a harbor warehouse in the Royal City. During our journey, the wards and bindings Laurel and I put in place failed and the ship became full of haunts.
“Didn’t like it, did you?” I asked.
“No,” Arlis said. “I didn’t. Especially with Basel’s ghost flitting about.”
“Given the fact that your partner in crime had killed him?” I asked. “And had tried to kill me several times?”
“What was it that Helto wanted you to do?” Chadde asked into Arlis’ silence.
“Intelligence,” Arlis said. “He wanted me to keep him informed about Rabbit and the king’s movements.”
“And did you, Guardsman Arlis?” Thadro asked, his blue-gray eyes as cold as anything that tried to come out of the fireplace.
“Sir, no, sir,” Arlis said, tired. “The couple of times I wasn’t with you, I was with Rabbit.”
That was true—except for yesterday morning, when Jusson had to send him back to accompany us to the Copper Pig. Then, Helto’s tavern was probably the last place Arlis had wanted to be.
Thadro’s expression didn’t thaw. “Covering your backside, Guardsman?”
“Blocking access, sir,” Arlis said. “After last spring, I’d enough of—of diversions and adventures. I didn’t want any more.”
“An admirable sentiment,” Thadro said. “You said that there were others involved in the town and valley. Who are they?”
Some of the townsfolk shifted, looking as though they had just heard one shoe drop and were expecting the other to come crashing down at any moment. And I remembered Chadde finding the receipts from Freston’s business and shop owners in Helto’s snug. The brewer, the miller, among others—including Master Ednoth—all had sold the Copper Pig inferior products at vastly superior prices. More of the puzzle pieces slotted in.
“They’re here, sir,” I said, watching the town elders. “Sacks of flour, barrels of beer, kegs of brandywine and spirits. Who would question such innocuous cargo as it wends its way to other villages and towns? And if anyone were to wonder about the sudden increase in wealth, why, there’s Helto’s receipts showing how they were making a killing in selling the gullible outlander shoddy goods at wildly inflated prices.”
“Very good, cousin,” Jusson said, entering the interrogation. Though a guard had brought a chair for him, he ignored it to stand at Wyln’s shoulder—reversing, as far as everyone else was concerned, the natural order of things. “And as my Keeper of the Peace has probably figured out.” the king continued, “the receipts aren’t only a cover for illicit gains, but also record who was paid what, and if we are able to decipher them, why. Correct, Peacekeeper Chadde?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Chadde said. Something flashed out from the edges of her calmness and I found myself glad it wasn’t aimed at me. “I was aware of Slevoic, Helto and Menck, and I strongly suspected Gawell and Ednoth’s involvement. But it wasn’t until yesterday at the tavern that I realized how widespread it had become.”
“As Arlis said, Your Majesty,” Alderman Almaric said, his own face tired, “it was a diversion that also rounded out coffers that can grow distressingly empty at times. One bad winter—” He shrugged.
“They were people” I said. “Not entertainment.”
“Yes, Lord Rabbit,” Almaric said, his eyes sliding to Wyln and Jusson before moving to Laurel and Cais at the fireplace. “However, remember, this is the north and, unlike what I’ve heard of the south, we have very clear memories of the last war with the Border.”
“Including the fact that you started it?” Wyln whispered.
“Almost all the men in the Valley and surrounding mountains who could went to fight, Lord Wyln,” Almaric said. “But only a handful returned, and most of them broken in some way. An entire generation gone with their children mourning their loss.” Now his gaze went to Dyfrig staring out the window. “Some still are.”
“So you figured that you were doing a good deed in ridding the world of magicals?” I asked. “If you hate us so much, then, why are you here and not with Helto?”
“Because of what happened last night at the church,” Magistrate Ordgar said, “and the fact that those who defeated the revenant are in here and not out there.”
“How ironic, then, that your vicar who delivered the deathblow is as magical as any of us from the Border,” Wyln whispered hoarsely. “But then, as Jusson Iver’son has pointed out, you have all changed—into the very thing you hate and despise.”
“So it seems,” the magistrate said, running a hand over his face. “But whatever we may have done, Your Majesty, like Arlis we never had any intention of rebellion. You are—and have always been—our king.”
“Such loyal subjects,” Jusson said. “But did you think that because you didn’t want to play anymore that your fellows would say all right and go home?” He held up his hand as Ordgar and several others all started to speak. “No, do not answer. It is obvious that you did not think. You did not consider that it is a smuggling ring, which not only circles to you but also circles away too, to other people and other lands with their own agendas. And now this ring has circled back once more, bearing diamonds and gold tainted with darkness and death. All of it landing here, where you had given place to it once before, again demanding that you play.”
There was another sound of bells and Dyfrig turned to face us, his face grim—or maybe, like Ranulf’s, it was lined with pain. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, not knowing what to say.
Jusson, however, did. “Were you involved in this round-robin of corruption, your reverence?”