“You will have seen her as the Death’s Jester who came with Girton.” She nodded in my direction. “They came here to find out if we had a traitor in our midst who wanted the heir dead.”
“And we did,” said Daana. “Tomorrow Rufra ap Vthyr will burn for his treason.”
“Exactly,” said Adran, “so why we are here I do not know. We should leave our beloved king in peace.” She started to turn in a rustle of stiff brocaded trousers.
No,” said the king. It was barely a whisper but it stopped everyone in the room dead.
“No?” said Adran. “But, my king, you are ill. We cannot—”
“I think our king means that Rufra is not a traitor,” said my master.
The king’s head moved, an almost infinitesimal nod.
“Be quiet,” said Adran, “or our king will find out more than you wish him to know.”
“The king already knows, Adran.”
“Knows what?” said Daana.
The queen turned to him.
“She is Merela Karn, an assassin. The boy is her apprentice.”
Daana ap Dhyrrin’s rheumy eyes widened, and the guards either side of him lowered their pikes.
“You brought an assassin into the castle?” said Daana.
“To catch a assassin, use an assassin, Daana,” said the queen. “And she has ended the threat.”
“Then why do we waste our time here?” said the old man.
“Because I have not caught who hired your killer,” said my master. “Not yet.”
As they spoke the king’s eyes flicked from one player to another and I was sure I saw the hint of a smile on his weathered face.
“Then please tell us,” said the queen. “If it is not Rufra, a boy who expressed his wishes plainly in a letter, then who is our traitor?”
“Are,” said my master. After a brief, stunned, silence, Adran started to laugh. It was not a false laugh, more a relieved one. I swallowed hard. I had been so sure my master had realised some particular truth that I had missed. But if that was it then her dart had not flown home.
“Are you suggesting, Merela, that I wanted to have my own son assassinated?” She laughed again. “Your time in the wilderness has addled your wits. I should have had you killed the moment you entered the castle.”
“You misunderstand, Adran,” said my master, and I let out the breath I had been holding. “I do not say you wanted your son dead; in fact, I know you have high hopes for him. I said that you were a traitor.”
“Traitor to who?” said Adran. She took a step towards my master. The king watched with bright eyes and there was no mistaking his smile. The stink of sickness thickened in the room.
“To your king, to the high king, to the entire Tired Lands.”
Adran laughed again… but was she a little less sure of herself?
“You talk madness. Guards!” She turned to the man and woman she had brought with her, “Arrest this woman and the boy. If they wish to ally themselves with the traitor, Rufra ap Vthyr, they can join him on the pyre.”
The guards started forward but a word from the king stopped them in their tracks.
“No.”
Adran looked from them, to me, to Daana ap Dhyrrin and then to the dying king.
“Guards,” he whispered, “leave us a while. I want to hear what this assassin has to say.” The few words seemed to steal all the energy from him. He let his head fall back against the pillow and in the time it took the guards to leave I do not think he breathed at all, though that small smile still played about his lips.
“So be it, Merela,” said Queen Adran with a shrug. “Tell me of this madness that has possessed you. Expose your foolishness to us all.”
My master pushed herself away from the wall. The yellow and purple tapestry behind her rippled. “Very well. Neander was training sorcerers together with Heamus. We are all agreed on that?”
“And Rufra was helping them,” added Daana ap Dhyrrin.
“No.” My master shook her head. “Not Rufra, though I am sure you would love us to think that. But we shall come to you later.” She gave Daana ap Dhyrrin a brief smile. “Heamus was going out into the Tired Lands and using his Landsman skills to find those who showed some promise of magic and bringing them here. We know about Drusl, but Girton saw a list and there were others. No doubt they either left with Neander or they have gone to feed the pigs.”
“We know this,” said Adran.
“But I did not understand why Heamus would do such a thing.”
“He held a grudge against our king,” said Daana ap Dhyrrin, “over a serving girl. The heart can be a cruel master.” Shock on the king’s face at that? If so it was fleeting. There and gone, briefly considered and cast away as beneath him.
“Oh the heart can be. It is,” said my master. “And as he knew how much King Doran hated magic, revenge may well have been the leash that drew Heamus into the plot, but Heamus did not strike me as cruel. If anything he struck me and Girton, who knew him better, as a kind man. Albeit one haunted by guilt.”
“Not so kind if the stripes and scars on Drusl’s back were to be believed,” said Adran. I dug my nails into my palms.
“No. Not if he was the one who did that, but I truly believe Heamus was trying to make up for his past cruelties. Girton heard arguments between Heamus and Neander. Maybe Heamus was told bringing those gifted here would give them a chance at a good life as well as provide him with some small measure of revenge and redemption. Maybe he believed he was to watch over them and ensure they never hurt anyone. Truthfully, I do not know how he was persuaded to take part and I doubt we will ever find out.”
“But Merela,” said Adran softly, as if she were talking to a child, “if he was misled by Neander, why would he carry on once he realised?”
“Because once he had started it was too late, Adran. Once he had helped Neander he was caught. What could he do then? Who could he go to? The king?” Doran ap Mennix gave a soft shake of his head, his eyes steely hard. “And imagine what the Landsmen would do to him if they found out he had been protecting sorcerers. It’s a mercy he died when he did.” A nod from the king.
“All I see so far, Merela, is proof that Rufra and his father were working together.”
“But they weren’t, Adran. They weren’t. And we all know that Neander was not Rufra’s father.” Was there a twitch of worry in Adran’s smile then? And a mirror of it on Daana ap Dhyrrin’s lined face? A widening of the king’s eyes?
“Do we know that?” she said.
“Yes. Rufra is a threat to you, your son and also to Daana ap Dhyrrin’s ambitions for his great-grandson. You may believe Rufra is guilty but Daana certainly knows different.”
“What do you mean?”
“The squires wanted your son removed from training so they could progress as Riders. Daana had them put in written requests.” The king’s gaze was fixed on the old man. “I sent Girton into your rooms, Daana, and he saw them. What did Rufra’s letter say, Girton?”
“It said, ‘I, Rufra ap Vthyr, request the heir, Aydor ap Mennix, be removed from Rider training.’ The other letters read the same but were signed by different squires. Rufra’s request was on top, and someone had started to scrape off the the words ‘from Rider training.’” Adran shot a furious look at Daana ap Dhyrrin.