“That’s barbaric,” Lena said, appalled.
Cas was in agreement. “It’s why Dimas has never been able to keep staff. He hires those who are very young, like Jon and his brother were at the time. Or desperate, and they move on as soon as they’re able. And yet on the day of the naming ceremony, the day a stranger breaks into his home, every servant is given a day off.”
Lena was quiet. “Hm.”
That was what Cas had thought. Hm.
Lena said, “Although, for argument’s sake . . . you’ve met this Master Dimas?”
“Many times.” He was one of the richest men in town. He did not let anyone forget it.
“But you haven’t seen him in three years,” she said. “People change, Cas. Perhaps he’s grown wiser, decided to be kinder to his servants. The pestilence changed people.”
True. It had changed him. He looked at the house across the lake and said, “Let’s go find out.”
13
The rice merchant’s shop had a bright, prosperous look to it. A freshly painted sign hung above the door, the image that of a smiling girl holding a heaping bowl of rice. Hellin, Master Dimas’ daughter. Inside the shop, open rice barrels lined the walls. Three clerks rushed about, filling orders for waiting customers. One female clerk was elderly, stooped and bony. The other two were girls no older than ten.
Cas and Lena stood in a corner out of everyone’s way. Cas had declined the old clerk’s offer to wait upstairs in the family’s living quarters. Master Dimas was expected back shortly. A groom had been sent to fetch him. A few of the customers recognized Cas, though none approached. He thought nothing of it until Lena commented, “Do you know, you can look very scary when you wish it.”
Cas had been deep in thought. He had not realized he was scowling. Now he saw the customers giving him a wide berth as they exited the shop, clutching burlap sacks of rice. He rearranged his face into something more neutral, much to Lena’s amusement.
“You’re not scared of me,” he said, contemplating her down length of his nose.
“Why should I be?” Lena took a scoop off a wall hook and poked about a rice barrel. “We’re friends. You saved my life. We share a horse.”
“We do not share a horse.”
She gave him a crooked smile. “Did you know Lord Amador’s great-great-grandfather died in a rice barrel?”
Cas only looked at her.
“It’s true,” she insisted. “His middle son hit him on the head during an argument and then buried him under the rice until he suffocated.”
“I . . . How do you know this?”
“It was in a book I read.” Lena gave the rice one last poke before returning the scoop to its hook. “I wonder how long it would have taken.”
“Lord Cassia!”
Master Dimas was as Cas remembered. Curly black hair and a full bushy beard. Shaped roughly like one of his rice barrels. His black robe matched his velvet cap, which was topped with a goose feather. A heavy gold chain served as a belt. Behind him was his daughter, Hellin.
“I almost fell over when I heard you’d come back! Keeled right onto the floor! Is that not so, Hellin?” Master Dimas spoke in booms, one volume only, the first of which made Lena jump.
“Nearly so, Papa.” Hellin’s smile was indulgent. She was Cas’ age, curly black hair spilling well past her shoulders. She wore a green cloak, as Lena did, though hers was lighter, like a crisp green apple. “We are so pleased to see you safe, my lord Cassia.” She turned to Lena and curtsied. “Lady Analena, welcome. Here is the king’s sister, Papa.”
Beaming, Master Dimas greeted Lena, whipping off his cap with a flourish. Lena was polite. She was not friendly.
“But why do you wear your cloaks?” Master Dimas asked. “Why have you not been shown upstairs?” He pinned the older clerk with a glare. She froze like a trapped rabbit.
Cas said, “It was offered, Master Dimas. We can’t stay long. We’re here about your archer.”
Master Dimas glanced quickly around the shop to see if the customers had overheard. They had. “Not my archer,” he said with a grimace. “I do not claim him.”
Lena said, “No, I would not want to claim him either.”
“Ventillas told us the archer broke into your attic. May we see it?” Cas asked.
“There’s nothing to see,” Master Dimas protested. “The king’s men were all over here two days ago. In and out. Up and down. They found nothing.”
“Nevertheless.”
“Certainly you may.” Hellin placed a soothing hand on her father’s arm. “We, too, wish to learn who would do such a thing. Please, follow me.”
They left the rice shop behind. Hellin led them out a back door and into a courtyard. A stone wall blocked the view of the lake. Plump, clucking chickens roamed freely. Lena paused at the sight of the birds, frowning.
“The house was built strangely,” Master Dimas explained, the feather in his cap nearly flattened by the wind. “The attic can only be accessed through a separate stairwell, just here.” He pulled a key from his robes and turned the lock. “Inconvenient. But one cannot fault the location. Buildings by the lake are rarely for sale.”
Cas nudged aside a chicken pecking at his boot. “The lock was broken, I heard.”
“Yes,” Master Dimas said. “This one is new.”
“Where is the old one? May I see it?” Cas could feel Lena watching him, wondering what he was up to.
Father and daughter exchanged a glance.
“I threw it away,” Hellin said. “Into the lake. I was upset. Forgive me, Lord Cassia. I did not realize it was important.”
Cas assured her it was not. They climbed the narrow stairwell to the very top. Four stories in total. By the time they reached the attic door, Master Dimas huffed and puffed. The attic was completely empty, the floor thick with dust and covered with hundreds of footprints.
“We are still moving our belongings from the old house,” Hellin said. “The attic will be the last of it. I hate to think that someone used our home for such evil.” She turned to Lena. “The little prince is well, I hope?”
“Very well. Thank you.”
“And the nurse? The one who was hurt?”
“Her shoulder will heal,” Lena said. “She’s badly shaken, however, and no longer wishes to be a nurse. She’ll go home to her parents.”
Hellin made sympathetic noises. “How very sad.”
Cas crossed the chamber to the window. A rusted latch took some doing but he managed to push it open. The wind rushed in, blowing dust off the floor and into swirls and motes. From this vantage point, the archer’s skill was even more impressive. To be able to stand here and miss so small a target by inches. Incredible. Master Dimas and Hellin remained by the door, speaking among themselves.
Lena came to stand beside Cas. “Faustina was supposed to have carried the baby out of the church,” she said. “Did you know?”