‘If you wish to keep your tongue, not another word.’ She turned her wrath on her guards as she leaned forward and snatched her key and then Symphe’s from the lock. ‘Bring her.’ And to Fellowdy and Coultrie, ‘Come. This is a waste of my time.’
I stepped toward the guards before they could seize me and held out my arms. ‘Just move along,’ one told me. As we passed Prilkop’s cell, I looked in. He sat cross-legged on the floor, at a low table. He wrote on paper. He did not look at me as we passed.
I followed Capra and the others down the corridor, out the door. Down a set of steps, through another door, and then into a small chamber. The guards stayed with us. The moment the door shut behind us Coultrie sprang at me. I shrieked and leapt behind a guard.
‘Stop him!’ Capra barked. Each seized one of his arms and bore him back, kicking and wailing like a furious child. ‘Oh, have done!’ she shouted at him. ‘You are ridiculous. If I tell you that Vindeliar is controlling your thoughts, can that break through to you? No? Then hold him over there.’ As the guards dragged Coultrie back from me, she dropped into a comfortable chair and pointed at the floor. ‘Bee, sit.’
I sat down on deep carpet and looked hastily around. Framed paintings of flowers on the walls, a table of dark wood, chairs, a decanter of golden liquid and glasses. Fellowdy took a chair with a martyred sigh.
Capra pointed a finger at Coultrie. ‘Coultrie, we have done as you begged. You saw that she was locked in her cell. You saw that we each still had our keys. There is no blood on her, no stink of spilled oil. This scrap of a child could kill no one.’
‘Then it must have been Vindeliar,’ Fellowdy opined thoughtfully. ‘Given plenty of the serpent potion, perhaps he could control Dwalia enough to force her to kill herself.’
‘Would he have had Symphe smash the potion on the floor, out of his reach? And I doubt she would fall to Vindeliar’s influence and set fire to herself. No. This was not the child and this was not Vindeliar.’
‘Listen to me!’ Coultrie shrieked. They turned to him, disdain on Capra’s face, distress on Fellowdy’s. He looked from one to another and panted out his words as he hung between the two guards. ‘I tell you what is true. Symphe brought her to Vindeliar’s cell.’ He twisted one arm free and pointed a shaking finger at me. ‘Vindeliar told me all! She threw a lamp at Symphe to set fire to her and broke the serpent-potion bottle on the floor! She told Dwalia to die and she did. She did! Dwalia is dead! My dearest friend is dead!’ He roared the words at me and then broke into shaking sobs.
‘His dearest friend?’ Fellowdy said doubtfully.
‘He despised her.’ Capra threw herself back in her chair. ‘We will get no sense out of him. It is the serpent potion. Vindeliar is stronger with it than I’ve ever seen. Something good comes of this wreckage: Dwalia leaves us a valuable tool. One we must learn to control. But now is not the time to think of that.’ Did she regret uttering that thought in front of them?
Her eyes had narrowed to slits. She considered Coultrie for a moment. In a gentler voice she said, ‘Coultrie is not well. His emotions have overcome him. Guards, escort him to his tower room. Fetch for him the Collothian Smoke that was delivered for me yesterday. Poor fellow. He has lost his dearest friends. Keep watch outside his door so he remains there. I would not wish him to harm himself.’ Coultrie’s eyes had widened at her mention of Smoke and I sensed she conferred some immense favour upon him. She smiled at him, falsely kind, but he seemed eager to believe as she said, ‘We will talk to Vindeliar ourselves, just as you have advised us. Put your mind at ease about that. There now. Go take some rest. I can tell that your heart is broken.’
Fresh tears sprang from Coultrie’s eyes and trickled down his face at her sympathy. He offered no resistance as the guards moved him toward the door. I heard his sobbing until the door closed behind him. I remained where I was and kept silent. Capra leaned forward and poured some of the drink into a glass. She sipped from it.
‘So you think Vindeliar lies?’ Fellowdy asked her.
‘He told us there were two dragons in the harbour, and that a Destroyer spoke in his mind, threatening to reduce all Clerres to ruins. Have you seen any dragons today? Any signs of an attacking army?’ She sipped from her glass again. ‘He tells us that Bee did all this. Did you see any sign that she had been out of her cell and in that dungeon?’
‘Why would he lie? What would he gain?’
‘Finally, you are asking the correct questions. Here are some others for you to ponder. Why was Symphe in that dungeon, with serpent potion, when our supply of it is sadly depleted? Where did she obtain it? What treachery did she plan? And who put an end to it? Vindeliar is not the most intelligent fellow. Did he manage to get enough potion to take control of Symphe? Did she kill Dwalia and then accidentally or purposely take her own life? Coultrie has fallen to Vindeliar’s influence. He is useless. But Vindeliar knows exactly what happened. I consider him our most likely killer, and I will have the truth from him.’
‘I wish to be there.’
‘Of course you do. Because you have no thought for all else that must be managed.’
Fellowdy worked his mouth and then said, ‘We all know that you have a supply of the serpent potion you have kept to yourself. Is that where Symphe got it? Stolen from you? Or given by you? How closely must I watch my own back?’ She stared at him, her mouth flat, until he dropped his eyes. ‘Do we go to Vindeliar now?’ Fellowdy asked in a subdued voice.
She rounded on him. ‘Do as you wish, I am sure! Go grovel before Coultrie’s new friend. That disgusting creature should never have been allowed to survive. I suppose I shall have to deal with all that needs to be done alone. Symphe is dead. Have you no thought for that? For what it will mean to the people of Clerres? The first tide has passed. The halls below are full of fortune-seekers, some waiting to see Symphe. And across the water, the crowds for the afternoon crossing are waiting. When the second tide goes out today, we must refuse them. Those who entered this morning must leave. None can enter until we have resolved this. How well do you think that will be received? I need to send birds, to have guards readied to control a mob. And I must consider how we will deal with the loss of several days’ income from the fortune-mongers. Details, to you, I know, but these details are what keep our walls standing and our beds comfortable at night.’ She gave a great sigh. ‘Symphe’s death must be announced with the proper pomp and ceremony. The folk of Clerres must see her honoured. Her body must be made to look … presentable. They cannot be told she has been murdered. It is unfortunate indeed that so many have seen her body. The guard who shrieked and ran tattling to Coultrie must be … dealt with. And Coultrie’s babbling before the prisoners means that they must be dealt with, too. Symphe’s death must be framed as an accident. A terrible accident.’