Page 20 of The Warrior Priest
I did not. “Do you know for certain that the killer climbed a vine to get into the house?”
Mistress Lowey nodded. “I heard it from Ginny Styne, whose son-in-law is a constable. He didn’t get home until dawn after he stayed outside the deputy governor’s house all night, keeping watch in case the killer came back. Apparently, the murder happened in the master bedchamber when the deputy governor was napping before dinner. The valet went to wake him and discovered the body. The only way in without being seen by the staff was through the bedchamber window. A vine grows from the ground to the balcony.”
“Don’t be upset,” Mistress Milkwood said to me. “He deserved it.”
“I’m just shocked,” I murmured.
“It is shocking to be murdered in your own bed, it’s true.”
I didn’t tell her that wasn’t the shocking part. The shocking part was that I’d been there when it happened. I could go to the sheriff and tell him what I’d seen. I could be pivotal in capturing Giselle and separating her from Rhys.
I dismissed the idea as quickly as it occurred to me. I’d never do that to him.
The son of our neighbor returned, his face flushed and eyes bright, eager to tell us the news. He pressed a hand to his side and drew in deep breaths. “It’s the king,” he finally managed to say.
“Is he dead, too?” the lad’s mother asked.
He shook his head. “He found an heir.”
We all stared at him. “How can hefindan heir?” Mistress Lowey asked.
“Wheredid he find one?” asked Mistress Milkwood. “Under a rug?”
“Who cares?” said another woman. “It’s an heir! We won’t become Vytillian when King Alain dies!”
“We won’t go to war,” said the lad’s mother, her eyes filling with tears of relief as she gazed upon her son.
Mistress Lowey grabbed my arm, her other hand fluttering at her chest as if to settle a rapidly beating heart. “Did you hear that, Jac? We’re saved. We have a prince!”
The lad told us the marketplace had erupted with joy over the news.
I didn’t feel joyous, but I was certainly relieved. The signed document in the governor’s office no longer seemed so concerning. If King Alain was incapable of ruling, the new prince could become regent until such time as he became king and the document’s validity would be questioned. All would be well, and Tilting wouldn’t be at the mercy of my cruel uncle.
I headed into the heart of the city and saw that impromptu celebrations had broken out. The taverns were full, there was dancing in the streets, and minstrels played tunes on lutes and flutes. I learned a little more about the heir, including that he was King Alain’s grandson, fathered by Alain’s son to a commoner he’d secretly married before his own untimely death many years ago. It all sounded a little too convenient, but I wasn’t going to question an outcome that benefited Glancia.
I decided to see if the revelries extended to the castle. Perhaps the newly found prince would make an appearance at the gate to speak to his people. The king’s castle and the high priest’s temple stood near one another, atop two adjacent hills. The bell housed in the slender tower of the latter had finally fallen silent. The tower and domes gave the high temple an elegance that was entirely lacking in its neighbor. The dark fortified walls of the ancient seat of Glancia’s rulers were grim even in summer. Now, in late autumn, the castle looked as welcoming as a prison.
There was no sign of the new prince. The gate was guarded as usual, keeping the commoners out and the nobles in with their king and his counselors. It opened while I was there to let out a carriage pulled by two black horses. It didn’t sport the governor’s escutcheon, but I kept my hood pulled low to obscure my face just in case. Hopefully the murder of his deputy and the discovery of the new prince were preoccupying him enough that he no longer had time to look for me.
Some of the crowd who’d come to the castle with the same idea as me shouted out questions about the new prince, but with the curtains closed, the carriage’s occupants weren’t interested in responding.
I stayed awhile longer then traipsed back down the slope. I returned home, intending to stay in for the night, but I couldn’t settle. My conversation with Rhys played on my mind, over and over. The downside of an excellent memory.
By the time darkness descended, I could stand it no longer. I needed to speak to him, although I had no idea what I’d say. The cold wind felt like tiny teeth nipping at the exposed skin on my face, but at least the soft leather of my gloves kept my hands warm.
Although I was sure no one was about outside the building where I usually met Rhys, I double-checked the vicinity before entering. If the high priest had anyone spying on it, I couldn’t see them.
Inside, I went to collapse onto the chair, only to stop myself before I sat on the folded note there. Rhys’s bold handwriting informed me to meet him at The Flying Goose if I happened to stop by. “Be careful,” he’d added.
I kept my hood up, alert to my surroundings. There was no sign of guards wearing the governor’s livery. Although a few constables patrolled, they weren’t interested in me.
The Flying Goose wasn’t the closest inn or tavern to the temple of Merdu’s Guards, but that was precisely why it was the favorite haunt of Rhys, Vizah, Andreas and Rufus. Although drinking in public taverns and inns was tolerated by their order, it was frowned upon by some who believed the priests should have no pleasures whatsoever. Rhys said they simply preferred to drink where others from their order did not. At The Flying Goose, they could indulge in vices without worrying about censure, as long as they were discreet. Vizah would gamble with what little money he’d managed to save from the meager monthly allowance the order doled out to each priest, while Andreas would meet his mistresses in one of the bedchambers. Rufus simply drank, becoming more and more glum with every tankard.
If Rhys kept mistresses there, he was discreet. He didn’t gamble and he drank in moderation. At least, he usually did. This time, he was drunk when I arrived. The signs were subtle, however. It was only because I knew him very well that I spotted them. His cheeks were a little flushed and he held himself a little less rigidly than usual. If there was to be an attack now, he’d be slow to react.
“Jac!” He signaled for me to join them. “Have a drink with us. We’re celebrating.”
I asked one of the serving women to bring me an ale then sat between Rhys and Rufus. Rhys smiled at me. It was unnerving. I didn’t know what to expect.
