The earl looked at him, aghast. “This is imported damask with gold thread embroideries.” Just then, the servant reentered with a large comfortable chair. “Ah, there you are. Here, take this, and for Maribor’s sake, don’t hang it from a peg.” He passed his cloak to the servant, who bowed and left.
“Brandy?” Braga asked.
“Oh, good lord, yes,” Archibald replied. Braga handed him a glass, the bottom of which was filled with a smoky amber liquid.
“I appreciate your coming, Archibald,” the bishop said. “I’m afraid we won’t have much time to talk just now; there is quite a bit of turmoil in Melengar today. But as I was telling Braga, I thought it might be beneficial for the three of us to have a quick chat.”
“I’m always at your service, of course, Your Grace. I appreciate any opportunity to meet with you and the new King of Melengar,” Archibald said nonchalantly. Saldur and Braga exchanged looks. “Oh, come now, it can hardly be a secret. You are the archduke and lord chancellor. With King Amrath and the prince dead, if you execute Arista, you’ll wear the crown. It’s really rather nicely done. I commend you. Murder in broad daylight, right before the nobles—they’ll cheer you on as you steal their crown.”
Braga stiffened. “Are you accusing me of—”
“Of course not,” the earl said, stopping him. “I accuse no one. What care do I have for the affairs of Melengar? My liege is Ethelred of Warric. What happens in your kingdom is none of my affair. I was merely offering my sincere congratulations”—he raised his glass and nodded at the bishop—“to both of you.”
“Do you have a name for this game, Ballentyne?” Braga asked tentatively as both he and Saldur watched the young earl closely.
Archibald smiled again. “My dear gentlemen, I’m playing no game. I’m being truthful when I say I’m simply in awe. All the more because of my own recent failure. You see, I tried a gamble myself, to increase my station, only it was less than successful.”
Braga became quite amused with this primly dressed earl. He understood what the bishop saw in him and he was curious now. “I’m very sorry to hear you suffered difficulties. Exactly what were you attempting?”
“Well, I acquired some letters and tried to blackmail the Marquis of Glouston into marrying his daughter to me so I could obtain his Rilan Valley. I had the messages locked in my safe in my private tower and was prepared to present them to Victor in person. Everything was perfect but—poof.” Archibald made an exploding gesture with his fingers. “The letters vanished. Like a magic trick.”
“What happened to them?” Saldur asked.
“They were stolen. Thieves sawed a hole in the roof of my tower and, in just a matter of minutes, slipped in and snatched them from underneath my very nose.”
“Impressive,” Saldur said.
“Depressing is what it was. They made me look like a fool.”
“Did you catch the thieves?” Braga asked.
Archibald shook his head. “Sadly, no, but I finally figured out who they are. It took me days to reason it out. I did not tell anyone I possessed those letters. So the only ones who could have taken them are the same thieves which I hired in the first place. Cunning devils. They call themselves Riyria. I’m not sure why they stole them; perhaps they planned to charge me twice, but I won’t give them the satisfaction, of course. I’ll hire someone else to intercept the next set from the Winds Abbey.”
“So, the letters you had were correspondences between the Marquis of Glouston and King Amrath?” Saldur asked.
Archibald looked at the bishop, surprised. “Interesting guess, Your Grace. No, they were love letters between his daughter and her Nationalist lover, Gaunt. I planned to have Alenda marry me instead to spare Victor the embarrassment of his daughter being involved with a commoner.”
Saldur chuckled.
“Have I said something funny?”
“You had more in your hands than you knew,” Saldur informed him. “Those weren’t love letters, and they weren’t to Degan Gaunt.”
“With all due respect, Your Grace, I had the letters in my possession. They were addressed to him.”
“I’m sure they were, but that was merely a precaution against someone like you discovering them. It was quite clever, actually. It makes a fine diversion should someone intercept the letters. Degan Gaunt as a lover, I suspect, is meant to represent Lanaklin’s desire for revolution against Ethelred. If the marquis stated his opinions openly, he would risk execution. Those letters were actually coded messages from Victor Lanaklin sent by Alenda to a messenger of King Amrath. The Marquis of Glouston is a traitor to his kingdom and the Imperialist cause. Had you realized, you could have had all of Glouston and Victor’s head as a wedding gift.”
“How do you know?”
“Archduke Braga learned of the meetings when the late king asked him to pay the messenger directly and without record. He of course told me.”
Archibald stood silent and then swallowed the rest of his brandy in one mouthful. “But wait, why tell you?”