Dagger of deception, p.5
Dagger of Deception, page 5
part #1 of Rahendo and Ryhunzo Mysteries Series
“And we won’t. It all fits a bit too well, doesn’t it? First Iselda accuses Nurm of having, eh, violated her, then she is found murdered with his dagger. It’s as if someone wanted both events to fit nicely.”
“That’s because someone did, Pookie.” Rahendo gave his lover a worried look. “It’s almost impossible to prove that you really lost something. If you could tell with any certainty when and where exactly you had mislaid something, you probably wouldn’t have lost it in the first place.”
“You can try to think backward, after the loss, though.”
“That’s what we’ll have to do.”
“We should have told Nurm what Iselda told us,” Ryhunzo mused.
“When would we have done that? All of us were busy the whole afternoon and he didn’t return home that evening. Not before we were asleep. Well… in bed anyway. This morning he was gone before we rose.” Rahendo’s face predicted impending doom. It usually did. “Still, you’re right, we should have looked for him and told him as soon as possible. After our little chat with Iselda, we were so certain she wouldn’t pursue the matter and that Nurmie was in the clear, that it didn’t seem all that urgent anymore.”
“Let’s make some herbal tea,” Ryhunzo said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt inside. “They will be coming home soon. Anaxantis won’t do anything rash.”
Master Osbert fidgeted with his cap, feeling out of place and intimidated in the presence of His Highness, Prince Anaxantis, Lord-Governor of the Northern Marches.
“I’m so sorry, Master Osbert,” the prince said. “Was Iselda your only child?”
Osbert was in his late thirties, but, like most people of his class he looked at least fifteen years older. He had tears in his eyes when he spoke.
“No, Your Highness—”
“My lord will suffice,” the prince said out of habit.
“Yes, My Lord. There are the two wee ones, a boy and another girl. They came late to us, but what are you going to do? When all is said and done it’s all in the hands of the Gods and Goddesses, isn’t it? The children are a great comfort now, though they too miss their big sister.”
“Where was your daughter… eh, found?” the prince asked.
Osbert hesitated.
“In one of the abandoned barns, north of the village, Your Highness,” he said eventually.
“Ah, yes, I have read in one of the old records that a lot of good, arable land had to be abandoned after some epidemic drastically reduced the population,” Anaxantis mused. “They’re rather remote from the village. How did you think to look there?”
Again, Osbert faltered.
“The barns are among the first places people go looking for someone who is missing. Especially if it’s a young person. You see, the barns are used as a meeting place for—”
“I understand, master Osbert,” the prince cut him off. “I suppose that is the dagger you’re holding. Can I see it, please?”
Osbert seemed reluctant to part with what was after all the only piece of evidence he had. After some hesitation he put the murder weapon on the table. Eynurm immediately became white as chalk as he recognized it as his. There was some dried blood still on the blade. Anaxantis picked it up, holding it at the extremities of the cross-guard while studying it.
“That’s my dagger, My Lord,” Eynurm said. His voice was soft but steady. He looked the saddler straight in the eyes. “I didn’t kill your daughter, Master Osbert. On my honor, I didn’t.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, My Lord.” Osbert looked away. “But if you didn’t, I want to know who did.”
“It can’t have been Eynurm, Master Osbert,” Arranulf said. “I’ve known him for some time now and he never—”
“The one who stole his dagger is the murderer,” Obyann interrupted his friend. “We’ll have to find out who that is. That’s all there is to it.”
“Master Osbert, was there something you wanted to say?” Anaxantis asked. “You seem… preoccupied.”
Osbert shoulders sagged.
“I see how all the young noble friends of Lord Eynurm are coming to his aid, while there’s only me to speak up for my poor child.” He sighed through his tears. “He is probably innocent, although…” He looked at the dagger. “Anyroad, we might never get to the bottom of this. I’d hate to lose your patronage because of this, Your Highness. It may seem shallow, what with my girl dead and still above the ground, but I am a practical man. I have to be. For the wee ones.”
Anaxantis let the repeated use of Your Highness slide.
“I assure you, Master Osbert, that I will do my best to find out who did this to Iselda. If I find the killer neither age nor rank will protect him.”
“That is very kind of you to say so, Your Highness, but we know that the law is different for us common folks than for nobles. And maybe that’s right and proper. We’ve all heard the troubadours sing about what happened half a year or so ago. How the barbarians would have overrun the province of Amiratha and the entire Highlands. How you fought like a lion with no regard whatsoever for your own safety, your own life even. It’s not every day a noble risks his life for us poor folks. And you so young still. They sing ballads of how you stopped the savage Mukthars at the Zinchara. If you hadn’t done so, me and my whole family could have been dead now.”
Anaxantis looked embarrassed.
“It, eh, was nothing more than my duty to protect the people…”
“You could have run away. To Ormidon or anywhere else out of their reach. But you didn’t. You stayed to fight for us. We know that. We all know that. That’s why I’m going to trust your judgment. Our Iselda wasn’t perfect, you know. She could be difficult. Proud and headstrong. Had ideas way above her station. Don’t think I don’t know that. Maybe she provoked whoever did this. Maybe that man is a noble who fought beside you. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill my daughter. Maybe it was a mistake. An accident. Maybe he should be forgiven for…” Tears ran freely over Osbert’s prematurely wrinkled face. All remained quiet while the saddler tried to compose himself. Eventually he looked up at the prince. “You decide, Your Highness, and what’s right and fair in your eyes, all things weighed and considered, is all right by me and the mistress, Iselda’s poor mother.” He paused. “But I’d sure like to know what happened to my child.”
Everyone remained silent for several minutes.
“Master Osbert,” Anaxantis broke the silence, “let me assure you once more that I will do my utmost to find and punish the murderer of your daughter. As for now, maybe it’s best if you were to return home, to your wife and children. I will keep you posted if we find out anything.”
The saddler nodded and wiped a tear away with his cap. Arranulf opened the door of the war room for him and closed it again behind the unlucky father.
The prince was thinking, his head hung down. Then he turned to Eynurm.
“You’re under house arrest until further notice. Until this whole mess is resolved.”
Eynurm was about to protest, but the prince held up his right hand.
“I don’t suspect you of anything, and I certainly don’t accuse you of anything. However I have to do something or people will say I play favorites. You understand, don’t you?”
Eynurm nodded, but his eyes were dead.
“Yes, My Lord, I do understand, but it will make me look guilty.”
Anaxantis gave him a painful look.
“I know how it will look. I also know that there are, eh, rivalries among the pages. Your relation with Iselda was a matter of public record. Who knows what else people know? If you mingle with them as if nothing has happened, you could be called out on it. The situation could escalate very quickly and become very unpleasant.” He paused to take a breath. “Eynurm, I want nothing bad to happen to you, and there are a thousand ways this could go wrong.”
“That’s very gracious of you, My Lord, but if it were up to me I would take the risk. Either they will say I’m a coward who doesn’t dare show his face, or that I’m guilty since you put me under arrest.”
“Not arrest. House arrest. Meanwhile we’ll try to find out what precisely is public knowledge and what not. I need your word that you will remain in your quarters for the next three days.”
“You have it, My Lord.”
“I’ll also need your sword and your dagg—”
Eynurm became ashen white.
“I… I’m not wearing my sword. It must be in my room at our lodgings. As for my dagger… you already have it”
“Yes. That was clumsy of me. Obyann can bring your sword.”
Eynurm nodded, defeated.
Anaxantis looked at the downcast page with pithy.
“Let’s say house arrest means you don’t leave the castle grounds. No need for you to remain cooped up in some dusty room.” He gave the page another pained look.
“I’m sorry, Eynurm, but this is how it has to be.”
Eynurm crossed the courtyard in the company of his friends, Arranulf and Obyann.
All three of them felt dejected and nothing was said until they entered the communal room on the first floor of their lodging that they used to eat and to spend leisure time together.
The two younger pages had been waiting for them. Ryhunzo had made herbal tea and provided all of them with a steaming beaker. Obyann cut some thick slices of the half loaf of bread that remained from their breakfast. He also put a plate with cheeses and cold cuts on the table.
“No reason to starve,” he mumbled subdued.
It seemed as if Eynurm was about to cry.
“It will all sort itself out,” Arranulf tried to hearten him.
“That’s kind of you to say, but let’s be honest: my life is over.” Eynurm bit his lower lip. “First my father disinherits me, then the girl of my dreams dumps me, then she accuses me of forcing myself upon her, and finally I’m under suspicion of having murdered her.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, resting his forehead in his hands.
“Nothing is proven, and Anaxantis will never convict you without solid evidence,” Arranulf said. “Right, guys?” he added.
They all nodded or grunted in agreement.
“Anaxantis will never let anything happen to you,” Rahendo said. “So, however this turns out, you’re as good as off the hook.”
All five of them were sitting at the large table where they ate their meals.
“I‘m not so sure.” Obyann put his beaker down. “Anaxantis has said that he will get to the bottom of this, and that neither age nor rank would protect the guilty party. You know how he gets once he has set his mind onto something. Stubborn like a mule.”
“It takes a mule to recognize one,” Ryhunzo quipped, in an unsuccessful attempt to lighten the mood
“If we can’t clear up this thing, there will always be some lingering doubt that Nurmie did kill her. The reputation, undeserved as it will be, will follow him for the rest of his life. We can’t allow this stain on his honor to remain,” Rahendo said.
“Not to mention that the father will wonder for the rest of his life what really happened to his daughter,” Ryhunzo added.
“Let’s not be naive, to remove all doubt that I did not murder Iselda will need some solid proof. Only exposing the real killer will do. If we don’t find who did this and make him confess publicly, some blame will cling to me or the rest of my life. You know what the other pages will say, don’t you? ‘His father must have known he wasn’t any good or he wouldn’t have disinherited him.’ And, ‘He claims to be innocent, but let’s not associate with him.’ I’ll be a cast-out. A leper.”
“We won’t let that happen, Nurmie,” Rahendo said. “We will never abandon you.”
“No, Nurm my man, we won’t,” Ryhunzo added. “And, by the pickled dick of Zardok, I will openly call out whoever so much as breathes a bad word about you.”
For the first time that morning Eynurm smiled as he saw the red face and agitated movement of the young page’s curls.
“I appreciate the thought, Ryhunzo, but I’d hate to be the cause of anything happening to you. Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”
Ryhunzo crossed his arms defiantly.
“Promise him, Pookie,” Rahendo softly urged him on. “What would become of me if anything happened to you?”
“Of course, My Only Reason for Living, how could I resist your gentle command?” Ryhunzo turned to Eynurm. “I promise I will do nothing to add to your distress.”
Eynurm shot him a weak smile, then let his head hang down once more.
“They will say I raped her and then, when she complained to Anaxantis about it, I murdered her and somehow got away with it.” He looked up at the two youngest pages. “Nobody except you two heard her say she was retracting her accusation. Even me being confined to our quarters will be seen as something I wanted. Maybe even as something I asked Anaxantis for because I was too ashamed or too afraid to show my face in public.”
Obyann opened his mouth and then closed it again. He knew firsthand how mean some of the pages could be.
“Maybe it won’t be as bad as all that,” Arranulf ventured, without any basis.
“Yes, it will. It will never go away. For the rest of my life I will hear whispers behind my back. ‘There goes Eynurm. He got away with murder. Nothing could be proven, but you know what they say. No smoke without fire. His father chased him away some months before. Even his sire wouldn’t have him around. The old man must have known what a monster he put on the world.’ Or something even worse.
His four friends shot each other glances of helplessness and sheer misery.
“You’re exaggerating,” Obyann said.
“Am I, Obyann? Am I?” Eynurm looked up with pain and despair in his eyes.
“We will speak up for you.” Obyann sounded a lot less certain now.
“I’m sure you will try to. You can’t keep it up indefinitely.” Eynurm clawed with both hands in his hair, his head hanging down over the table to hide the coming tears. “Not so long ago, I was happy and in love. I had fair prospects. Now, in a few short weeks my whole life has been destroyed. My father has disowned me. Moreover, the girl I loved dumped me and now I stand accused of her murder. Even if the prince protects me, I will never shake off this nasty reputation.” He made an indistinct, anguished noise. “Any reconciliation with my father is now out of the question. I won’t see my brothers again, ever.”
“We can’t replace your brothers, but we are your friends, Nurm my man.” Ryhunzo had come over to Eynurm and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll stand by you.”
“My Pookie is right,” Rahendo chimed in. “We’ll just have to find out who really killed Iselda. We’ll prove it for all the world to see and we’ll have the murderer—”
“Sent to the Royal farms, minus his crown jewels,” Ryhunzo completed his lover’s sentence.
“Or have him swing by the neck from the gallows. Balls and all.” Rahendo said.
“By the golden locks and the sacred dove of Murandana, Goddess of Hopeless Cases and Lost Causes, we will find out who did this.” Ryhunzo’s curls seemed to move of their own accord.
Eynurm gave the two youngsters a grateful smile. A bleak smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“If worst comes to worst,” Arranulf said, “you can temporarily hi— live at Landemere Castle. I’ll have to ask Anaxantis since His Highness has appointed himself regent of my duchy—”
“And you yourself appointed him warlord of Landemere, I recall,” Obyann cut him off. “But yes, Landemere that’s a very nice gesture for someone like you. Nonetheless, I don’t know whether that will comfort our friend that much. People will say he’s hiding from justice. He will be a prisoner in your duchy. In a large, a very large prison, granted, but a prison all the same.”
“That’s precisely why we have to find the real murderer, Obie,” Rahendo concluded. He frowned. “The only question is how.”
“Thanks, guys, a man couldn’t ask for better friends, but I don’t want your reputations to be tarnished by association with me.”
“I don’t care,” Ryhunzo burst out. “We’ll stand by you if all the world turns against you.” He clawed a strand of rebellious curls from before his eyes. “Right?” he asked.
“Of course,” Arranulf said as Obyann nodded.
“We’ll have to do better than stand by him, Pookie.” Rahendo looked pensive. “We need to save his reputation by uncovering the killer and having him publicly judged so that not a smidgen of a stain stays on Nurmie’s name. Nothing else will do. If I’m not mistaken we have a lot of free time the next couple of days. We could try to find out… whatever we can.”
“You’re not planning anything dangerous, are you?” Arranulf asked, worried.
“Of course not, Nulf, my man.” Ryhunzo’s curls shook with excitement. “We’ll just ask a few questions here and there.”
“Such as?” Obyann asked.
“Such as who is the mysterious merchant from Dermolhea who raped her in Master Cairman’s establishment of ill repute?”
The three masters of pages looked stupefied at the two head pages.
“Mistress Iselda told us as we walked her to the castle gates, yesterday,” Rahendo explained.
“And we had an ever so nice chat with her,” Ryhunzo added.
“And it never dawned on your perversion-riddled, dirty little minds that you should have mentioned this?” Obyann exploded.
“When?” Rahendo asked.
“We have mentioned it.” Ryhunzo nodded vigorously. “Just now, we did.”
After Rahendo and Ryhunzo had related their conversation with the late Iselda, Eynurm hung his head.
“She wasn’t a bad person. I knew she used me to better herself and I was all right with that. Just being around her made me happy. I never cared much about ranks or titles.”
“She did. Obviously,” Obyann grumbled.
“Obe, my man, have a heart. Our friend is grieving. Besides, you can’t force who you love, witness the splendiferous and eternal bond my Gentle Spring Breeze over the Dry Meadow of my Existence and I have, which will forever be a beacon of hope, shining trough the ages to come, for—”
