King's Blades 03 - Sky of Swords Read online

  by producing him here.

  The clerks' pens had stopped scratching.

  "The inquiry will note that the witness refused

  to answer."

  "Was that a question?" she said. "It sounded like a

  statement."

  "How many lovers came to your bed?"

  She thought she detected a shimmer of

  disapproval among the commissioners, although none

  protested. "That question is indecent and

  irrelevant, and I demand that it be withdrawn."

  "It is not irrelevant, as we shall see. So

  there was a second door. Did you also bolt that

  or leave it unbarred for your paramours?"

  "The secret door led through to another room and

  I made certain that the outer door to that was firmly

  bolted also."

  "You claim you slept. When did you awaken?"

  "Around dawn."

  "Who or what roused you?"

  The commissioners had come alert, all of them, and

  she suspected that all the foreign observers had,

  too. This was the story they had been waiting for, the

  mysterious palace murder that must have been the talk

  of all Eurania for months.

  "A very bad smell."

  "And the cause of that smell?"

  "A corpse on the floor beside my bed."

  Yes, she agreed, it was--or had been--her

  cousin, Prince Courtney. Yes, he was

  naked, and yes he had been run through by a sword.

  How long he had been dead she did not know, but of

  course death had loosed his sphincters. In his

  final appearance onstage, Courtney had not

  smelled of cloves or roses or lavender.

  Being unfamiliar with sword wounds, she did not

  know whether he had been impaled from front to back

  or back to front, but the chairman was careful not

  to ask her that. He and other inquisitors had

  arrived at the scene within minutes and had questioned her

  then; he knew that her statements had been truthful

  and her bewilderment genuine. Wanting now to brand her

  a murderer, he must allow her no saving

  denials.

  "What did you do?"

  "I screamed for help. For all I knew the

  killer was still there." It was a lame excuse; in

  fact the scream had been sheer reflex. "I

  unbolted the door to let my ladies in. Then

  they screamed, too."

  "The secret door?"

  "Was closed."

  "And the outer door to the other room?"

  "I was informed later that it had been found bolted

  on the inside."

  "This was a few hours after your betrothal was

  announced?"

  "It was."

  "Had you agreed to receive your fianc`e in bed that

  night?"

  "He had implied he was planning to drop in.

  That was why I had made sure both doors were

  bolted."

  There was a pause, as if the chairman was

  mapping out his route very carefully. He risked

  another question. "You honestly expect the honorable

  commissioners to believe that both the Prince and an

  assassin entered through a bolted door and then the

  killer went out again, bolting the door on the

  inside?"

  "No."

  "Inform the commissioners of the names of the lovers who

  regularly came to you by the secret door."

  "Again I protest that question."

  "Again I insist that it is relevant and your

  refusal to answer is to be taken as admission of

  guilt. However, I can inform the commissioners that the

  testimony of several former members of the

  notorious and disbanded Royal Guard will be placed

  before them tomorrow and--"

  "What did you do to them?" Malinda screamed.

  "Produce the men themselves and let the commissioners

  see what--"

  "Silence! One more unauthorized remark and you

  will be charged with contempt of Parliament." In the

  murky candlelight and under the brim of his hat, the

  chairman's face looked even more like a skull

  than usual, and the shadowed eye sockets

  directed their ghoulish stare at Malinda in

  warning. He meant contempt of Pestilence and

  Nightmare, of course: behave or suffer.

  Why did it really matter if he painted her

  an assassin when he had hung enough other crimes

  around her neck to sink her without a trace? Why was

  he risking so much on this last accusation? Because in the

  eyes of the other ruling houses of Eurania,

  assassination was the great unforgivable, the supreme

  villainy, worse even than the trumped up

  charges of treason--all dynasties were rooted in

  treason if one looked back far enough. It was the

  false friend and poisoned kiss that kings really

  feared. If she could clear herself of this taint, then

  there might still be enough foreign outcry to save her

  neck from the block. It was a long shot, but the

  alternative was certain death.

  "The witnesses affirm," Lambskin said, "that

  the accused accepted at least one

  guardsman into her bed every night. She herself has

  testified that only members of the royal family

  and swordsmen of the Royal Guard knew of the

  secret door. So now, mistress, will you admit

  that the most logical explanation of your cousin's

  murder is that either you murdered the Prince

  personally or one of your lovers did and you bolted

  the door again after he left?"

  "That is not the most logical explanation."

  The inquisitors flanking her chair did not

  accuse her of falsehood. The commissioners

  stirred and exchanged glances. She had won a

  point! Now the chairman would have to ask her

  to elaborate. However much he could and would make

  her suffer for it later, tonight she could clear herself of

  this, the most dangerous charge.

  He chuckled mockingly. "I doubt that the

  commissioners agree with your peculiar personal

  logic." His rasping voice was hoarser than ever

  after three day's haranguing and badgering. "However

  the hour is late, and we are all anxious

  to adjourn. Guards, you may remove--"

  "Wait!" said a shrill voice. All eyes

  swung to the Honorable Alfred Kildare,

  Speaker of the Commons, four seats to the

  chairman's right. "I wish to hear the witness's

  explanation."

  The chairman scowled. Whether his feelings had

  for once escaped his control or whether he sought

  to intimidate the Speaker, he scowled most

  horribly. "I repeat, the hour is late."

  "A few more minutes will not hurt." Kildare

  had withstood King Ambrose in full roar; compared

  to him, Horatio Lambskin was an ill-tempered

  butterfly. The last time Malinda had seen the

  Speaker she had called him a lowborn meddling

  upstart and worse; she had threatened to throw him in

  a dungeon in the Bastion. But today he was the

  only one of them with the manhood to do his duty. Good

  chance to him!

  The chairman conceded defeat. "Very well.

  Witness, you will be brief. Wh
at in your view would

  be a more logical explanation?"

  Malinda drew a deep breath and began

  to gabble as fast as she could. "First, my ladies

  found no weapon in the room, so I could not have been

  the murderer." It must have been a rapier or a

  stiletto. Dog's Sword would not drill a

  hole through an opponent, it would chop him in

  half. "Second, I am a light

  sleeper and would certainly have heard a struggle or

  a body falling, so the corpse was brought in already

  dead and placed where I would fall over it;

  furthermore it was lying on its back and there were

  blood smears on its chest, so it had been

  stripped after death--my cousin was killed with his

  clothes on. As for the locked door, it is common

  knowledge that the Dark Chamber has a device called a

  Golden Key that will open any door; whether it will

  draw a bolt closed also is something the chairman

  can discuss better than I."

  As Lambskin opened his mouth, she rushed on.

  "There is no need to invoke conjuration, though.

  Prince Courtney may very well have known of the

  secret doors--he had been snooping around

  court for forty years--but it is absolutely

  certain that the Dark Chamber did, because its

  records go back before the palace was built, and

  therefore the most logical explanation of the paradox

  is that there is another secret way into one of those

  two rooms."

  The chairman said, "That is the most

  absurd--"

  "Let her finish!" Kildare squealed.

  "Thank you, Mr. Speaker," she said. "I

  am grateful for a little courtesy. As a final

  fact to be weighed, I remind you of the legal

  maxim: Who benefits? What good came to me from

  that bizarre crime? Within an hour my own Grand

  Inquisitor returned with a squad of

  men-at-arms and carried me off, prisoner, here

  to the Bastion. The case against me is

  ridiculous, but the case against Horatio

  Lambskin, who was then Grand--"

  "The witness is lying!" one of the inquisitors

  shouted at her ear. "The witness is raving!" the

  chairman snapped. "Guards, remove--"

  "Wait!" shouted several of the commissioners in

  tumult. Truly, it was a night of miracles,

  for the spokesman who emerged from the hubbub was the

  chinless Lord Candlefen, on his feet, flushed and

  squeaking with rage.

  "Your evident bias is unbecoming, Lord

  Chancellor. I am quite put off by it, I must

  say. You have accused the witness of innumerable rather

  unspeakable crimes; it is only fair that she be

  allowed to, er ... register a few remarks.

  ..."

  "Thank you, Cousin," Malinda said as his

  outrage dwindled. She could hardly

  breathe for the pounding of her heart; sweat ran into her

  eyes, making her blink. "You all know that

  Lambskin here was my Grand Inquisitor, a

  sworn member of my Privy Council. He

  betrayed his oath by plying me with false information on

  the strengths and whereabouts of both rebel armies, and

  probably in many other ways. He was eating out of

  all three bowls, and when Prince Courtney

  reneged on the promise of the golden chain,

  Lambskin had him slain and his body left in my

  bedroom to dispose of me also. He then claimed the

  chancellorship as his reward from his other traitor

  master--"

  "Silence!" The chairman slammed his fist on

  the table. "The witness may denigrate me, but this

  inquiry will not hear sedition against our Sovereign

  Lord King Neville! I trust that none of the noble

  lords or honorable members supports such

  treasonous remarks?"

  He glared to left and right, and the commissioners

  subsided into tremulous silence. The penalties

  for treason would cow anyone.

  "I have not finished!" Malinda shouted. "I

  claim the right to make a statement in my

  defense."

  "This is not a trial," the terrible old man

  said sourly, "so there is no such right. However, the

  witness will be provided with pen and paper and allowed

  to submit a written statement to the inquiry.

  "Silence, mistress! One more word and you will be

  removed.

  "Honorable commissioners, over the last three

  days you have heard the witness confess that even as a child

  she was in frequent rebellion against her father and

  liege lord, King Ambrose IV; that she gave

  her aunt, Princess Agnes, a conjuration that

  caused her death; that she connived at a massive

  deception to conceal the true facts of that murder;

  that she and the traitor Roland between them arranged for

  her father to be at Wetshore at a time known to his

  sworn enemy, the Baelish King; that she spoke

  with the Bael on his ship and obtained promises from

  him, and that he, having allowed her to disembark, then

  slew her father, the said King Ambrose of

  Chivial; that when Master Secretary Kromman

  was murdered shortly thereafter, she was cognizant

  of the killers' identity and failed to report it to the

  authorities; that she proceeded to Ironhall and

  bound a troop of half-trained swordsmen as her

  personal Blades upon improper

  authority; that while under her direction these

  killers caused the deaths of fifteen innocent people

  in Sycamore Square the following day; that she

  conspired with the traitor Roland, accepting money

  she knew to be embezzled; that she suborned the

  servants of the crown in raising a private force,

  although she was aware that this was a treasonous act; that

  she flouted a lawful command of the Council of

  Regency by leaving the place where she had been

  confined for her protection and coming into the presence of the

  King's Majesty, namely her brother, the late

  Ambrose V; that she deliberately shortened the

  child's life by withholding spiritual treatment from him in his

  sickness; that he died very soon after she had fed him

  his last meal with her own hand; that she then conspired with

  others to slay her brother, Lord Granville, and

  did claim the throne of Chivial although she was

  excluded from the succession by reason of her

  marriage to Radgar Aeleding; that the confessed

  traitor Roland was treacherously assassinated

  here in the Bastion while her guest, but that she

  passed off his death as natural and failed

  to initiate a proper inquiry or hunt for the

  murderers; that in her unlawful position as ruler

  of the land, she committed divers acts, including the

  improper execution of her husband, the said

  Radgar Aeleding, in a hasty and illegal man-

  ner before he could be properly questioned about the conspira-

  cy in which they had joined; that it was by her warrant that

  mercenary troops sacked the town of Pompifarth,

  causing the death of hundreds of people and widespread

 
loss of property." The chairman paused, and for a

  moment even he displayed normal human

  weariness. Then he rallied in a final burst of

  venom. "You have also just heard her peculiar

  explanation of how unknown malicious persons

  disfigured her bedchamber floor by leaving upon it the

  naked body of her cousin, Prince Courtney.

  "Guards, remove the prisoner. The inquiry

  is adjourned."

  I told you so.

  SIR DOG

  Back up the twisted stairway she went,

  back to her cold, cramped, and lonely little

  cell. The men-at-arms thumped the door closed

  behind her, clattered the lock shut, and

  doubtless then marched away. There was no sign of

  Pestilence or Nightmare, but a stub of candle

  stood upon her chair, flickering a tiny flame in

  the windy darkness, and beside it an inkwell, a

  quill, and a single sheet of paper. Exhausted,

  the Queen flopped down on the pallet and huddled

  herself up small to stare at this wonder.

  The Chancellor had kept his word! She could

  write out her defense. She had only one page

  and perhaps one hour left on that candle; no doubt the

  paper would be removed at dawn, ready or not.

  She wondered whether it was Lambskin or his master

  who was so spiteful--whether she was being punished for

  slighting the grim old man or for the death of

  Granville. Neville might not be the master in

  that team, only the puppet. After so long in her

  solitude, she could not even guess.

  The lock clattered again, hinges squeaked, and

  she cringed, fearing it would be Pestilence and

  Nightmare coming to carry out the Chancellor's threat

  to hand her over to "the men." They had not

  specified whether they meant the Bastion's

  professional torturers or miscellaneous

  ruffians. She had gambled that their intimidation was

  only bluff. They would gain nothing by maltreating

  her now. All the same she was relieved when a

  single man-at-arms entered and closed the door

  quietly behind him. He seemed no threat so she

  ignored him.

  After three days she still did not know what the

  trial had signified. That brief intervention

  by Mister Speaker--may the spirits favor him forever!

  --suggested that Parliament was not totally under the

  Usurper's heel yet. Alas, the powers of the

  crown in dealing with treason were almost unlimited.

  More than likely the inquiry would wind up its

  parody hearings tomorrow ... approve a report the