“I’m glad you feel that way,” said Tristam. “Many think I led him to his death.”
“You forget we actually knew Martin,” said Fitz. “He wouldn’t blindly follow anyone without good reason.”
“Thank you.” That, at least, was a weight off his chest.
Tristam took a wagon from the Palace stables so they could move about the city faster, and they started down the list of guards. Most of the guards they fetched were alarmed by the summons but came into the cart willingly. When Tristam arrived at the boardinghouse where the fourth guard lived, however, no one answered the door.
Tristam tried knocking again. “Open up. This is official Palace business.”
Still silence. Fitz, waiting next to him, gave a nervous shrug. Tristam circled to a side window and peered through a gap in the shutters. It was hard to see much of anything, but something seemed off. He looked around the boardinghouse again. The landlord likely lived in another part of the city entirely, and it would take hours to track him down. Kyra would have been really useful right about now. He made a mental note to ask her to teach him lock picking next time he saw her.
Tristam picked up a large stone and returned to the front door. “Give me a hand, will you?” he asked Fitz.
Fitz’s eyes widened, but he helped Tristam support the weight of the stone.
“On the count of three,” said Tristam. “One, two…”
They swung the rock, and the latch gave way with a crash. The door opened, and Fitz whistled.
The living quarters were empty. The bed was in disarray, and several chests along the walls looked like they had been hurriedly emptied. Their lids had been left open, and discarded objects were strewn all around the floor.
“Looks like whoever was here made a quick escape,” said Fitz.
The missing guard and his family could not be found anywhere in the city. Based on the testimonies of those who’d last seen them, the entire family had probably fled the night before. Had it been bribery? Blackmail? There was no way to know.
The rest of the guard force made it through questioning without raising suspicions. Though it seemed this man had worked alone, Malikel personally reviewed the prison guard roster to narrow the list to the most loyal and least vulnerable to persuasion.
Much later that day, Malikel summoned Tristam to his study. The Defense Minister’s door was closed when Tristam arrived, so he waited in the corridor. After a while, Kyra stepped out, her jaw set and her eyes flinty. Tristam stepped back, surprised at her demeanor, and she walked past him without a word.
“Tristam, come in,” came Malikel’s voice.
Tristam threw one last concerned glance in Kyra’s direction before stepping inside. The Defense Minister was seated at his desk. Now that the mystery of James’s message had been partially solved, Malikel’s gaze no longer carried the same murderous intensity. Tristam sat cautiously in a chair opposite him.
“I just informed Kyra that the Council has forbidden her from entering the prison or having any contact with James,” said Malikel.
That would explain her ire. A command like this from the Council was an empty one and only served to underscore their mistrust. If Kyra wanted to see James, she’d find a way. Did the Council really think they could control her like this, or did they simply feel better having delivered a command?
“I tell you this because you wouldn’t otherwise be able to concentrate on anything I say. But I didn’t summon you to discuss Kyra,” said Malikel. Tristam shifted in his chair, chagrined at being so transparent. “I realized today that it’s time I speak with you about your future. I’m afraid I’ve not been the best mentor to you in the time you’ve spent under my command.”
Tristam started to object, but Malikel raised his hand to stop him.