Dexter of Pozzelby

  “Ardwulf and I were never close, but he was still my kin and my king. If there was any, what did you say, animosity—you use big words, cousin—then it was on Ardwulf’s part. I have always done my duty. As for my arrival here, I came to see my kin off to the next world, yes—but I also came for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes. As I said, this will be a difficult time for our country. The nobles will be afraid; they will be waiting to see what happens. A strong hand will be needed to lead or there will be chaos. Forgive me saying so, but your youth will hinder you. You seem like a very intelligent boy, but all the nobles will see is a boy.”

  The main course, pheasant, was brought out. I hardly noticed.

  “What do you suggest then, Duke Grimwulf?” I asked.

  “You are still three years from adulthood. It is common in such a circumstance to name a regent, an older, capable relative to assume the duties of leadership until the time when you are ready.”

  “You?”

  “Why not? I am your closest relative. My presence would reassure the nobility; my reputation is one of strength. And I am used to leading people. I have ruled my province capably now for over two decades. It would be in the best interest of the country, in your best interest as well.”

  The boldness of the suggestion took me aback. Grimwulf sounded sincere, but I was incredulous and even more convinced that he was behind the murders. In our very first conversation, to come right out and suggest that I hand over the crown to him, it was unbelievable. And to me, his last words sounded like a thinly veiled threat, nothing more.

  “Duke Grimwulf, there is no law preventing a king Dexter’s age from ruling in his own right. It is his choice to rule or to name a regent, and so far he has shown himself to be quite capable,” said Layred Vu.

  Grimwulf tore a piece of meat from a larger leg with his teeth.

  “Law? No. But laws do not govern men’s emotions. After these murders, do you think the nobility will be comfortable with a boy Dexter’s age on the throne. They will not. Their unease will turn to unrest.”

  “I don’t agree,” Francis said. “The nobles may be uneasy, but they will get over it as long as nothing is done to stir them up. Besides, young monarchs have ruled Pozzelby before, even in this century.”

  “But never in times as uncertain as now,” said the duke. “Anyway, I have offered my help. Take it or leave it; I care not. More ale!”

  I decided that I would have to make certain that everyone sped up their efforts to collect their evidence. I was ready to have Grimwulf arrested right there. It didn’t matter to me that he must have had help—he could never have summoned those shadow asps. I was convinced that he lusted for the crown and that he had engineered murder to accomplish it. We could fill in the blanks after he was safely imprisoned. But still, I yielded to the greater experience of my advisors and hoped that they knew what they were doing.

  Chapter Seven

  Assassination has played a role in surprisingly few of Pozzelby’s monarchs, at least within the last one thousand years; prior to that the records are less clear. Honesty and honor are highly prized Pozzelbian values and most native Pozzelbians find the assassin’s trade rather dishonorable, unlike places like Lorsan or even Bagwar’s Run, where assassins operate a guild in the fashion of any other trade union. That is not to say that monarchs are never assassinated in Pozzelby. The assassination of King Bertrand the Flatulent, arranged by Bertrand’s own wife, is one famous example.

  Excerpted from J.R. Grimble’s, Pozzelby: A History

  Francis came to my suite before I was dressed for breakfast. A look out of my window showed that the sun had not yet crested the horizon, though the eastern sky was lightening. Francis looked wan. I knew the look; he had been up all night working.

  “You look exhausted,” I said as I let him inside.

  “I forgot to sleep. Doesn’t matter, I’ll sleep later,” he told me. “Brin and I went back to the library yesterday as I said. I looked up information on shadow magic, as you suggested. Shadow monsters, such as withsperi, are not magical creations. Instead, they are creatures that dwell on a shadow plane far removed from our own. They can be summoned here for a short time by a suitably powerful wizard. From what I have learned, the ritual is difficult and subjects the summoner to a fair amount of danger. At best, the ritual is draining. The worst case scenario is that the shadow creatures break free of the wizard’s control and slay him or carry him back to their own plane. It is possible that the diagram was to be used in a ritual to summon such monsters here.”

  “How do we fight them?” I asked.

  “Well, they can only exist in our world at night or in deep darkness. They avoid small lights, such as a torch, if they can. Full daylight and some magical lights will destroy them. Little else can. Normal weapons are useless, though enchanted weapons like the one Myrick carries can hurt them. So far, that is all I have been able to learn.

  “However, remember the candles that we found around the circle?” Francis asked.

  I nodded. “The black candles, yes. What about them?”

  “Well, I spent much of last night analyzing them. The candles themselves are simple beeswax, quite common. But the color is not common.”

  “I agree. I’ve never seen a black candle before.”

  “In this case the candles were colored using a dye made from the petals of the night iris. A rare flower that when properly processed can yield some useful compounds, as well as some deadly ones. I am going to ride into Dunlevy today with Corporal Billik and see if the flower is cultivated anywhere nearby.”

  “Promise me that you will get a little sleep first before you go.”

  “Very well. I’ll rest and then go this afternoon.”

  Almost as soon as Francis left, someone knocked on my door. I opened it, expecting to see him back, having forgotten to tell me something or having left something behind. Instead, Layred Vu stood there, flanked by my door guards and four more behind him.

  “Castellan, what is it?” I asked, knowing something was wrong.

  “King Dexter, I located the message contact this morning. The man on the docks?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m afraid we won’t be getting any information from him. He’s dead.”

  “Where was he found?”

  “Near the docks. His body was found in the water about fifteen minutes ago. Myrick is there now.”

  “Take me to him.”

  “King Dexter, it isn’t necessary for you to...”

  “It is necessary. I am the king. My family was killed. And I am tired of mysteries. I want an end to this, so I am going to see this man for myself. There is no doubt in my mind that you and Myrick can handle this investigation, but if it is possible that I might be able to help in anyway, I am going to do so.”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  The man’s bloated carcass had been removed from the lake and was lying on the ground near where it had been discovered. He actually did not look like he had been in the water for very long. I was glad of that. Myrick was kneeling by the corpse examining it carefully by the new morning sunlight.

  “Can you determine how he died?” I asked.

  “It looks like he was struck in the head and then shoved into the lake. The back of his skull is cracked. He was probably unconscious when he went into the water. He has some bruises on his face and body. He might have put up a fight,” Myrick said.

  “Look at his knuckles,” I said. “They’re scraped. One knuckle looks broken. He might have gotten in some blows of his own.”

  “Possibly.”

  Myrick checked the man’s clothes and body for any clue. The man’s pockets contained a few copper coins, a silver piece, and a knotted length of twine.

  “What’s this?”

  He reached two fingers into the muddy clump of hair near the wound on the back of the head and he plucked someth
ing out. I could not tell what the filthy object was, something small, like a burr. Myrick walked to the edge of Lake Marie and gently washed the small object. It was a ruby.

  “What was that doing stuck in his hair?” I asked.

  “He might have been robbed,” suggested Layred Vu. “He was probably paid pretty well by whoever was sending those messages. Maybe he was paid in stones. Someone could have found out and robbed him on his way to work.”

  “Or that gem might have been attached to whatever hit him. Myrick found it near the wound after all,” I said. “The blow to the head could have been struck by a sword pommel, a jeweled pommel. Maybe the killer wanted it to look like ruffians. They would be more likely to be armed with clubs than swords.”

  “Alright, a jeweled pommel,” said Layred Vu. “But whose? None of our men have such ornamentation on their hilts.”

  “Not in the castle guard,” Myrick said. “But a few of Tabor Till’s officers have some ornamental work on their sword handles. There may be some in Dunlevy.”

  “We saw another, just last night,” I said. “Captain Fenris had a jeweled pommel. I believe there were some small rubies set in it.”

  “I think that it’s time to have a talk with Fenris,” Layred Vu said.

  “Do we know this man’s identity?” I asked, pointing at the corpse.

  “Not yet,” Myrick told me. “Captain Talon went to locate the dock foreman. Hopefully he can tell us who this is.”

  “The dock men should be arriving for work soon. Boats often leave Dunlevy at first light and it takes about an hour for them to come across. Our men are always here well before they get here.”

  I was puzzled. “If the dock workers don’t get here until a half hour or so after dawn, what was he doing here?”

  “Based on what we know so far,” Myrick said. “I think he was instructed to come here to meet with someone. Having been working for Grimwulf all this time, he naturally came. Perhaps Grimwulf realized that I had located the barge captain and decided to eliminate the threat that we would find his contact.”

  “Once we know who he is, I want to know as much about him as we can. Does he have a wife, family? Where does he live? Who are his friends? Castellan, would you stay here and attend to that. Once he’s been identified, get his body removed to the castle,” I said.

  “Of course,” Layred Vu said.

  “Thank you. Myrick, we’re going to go talk to Captain Fenris. Bring a squad of guardsmen.”

  ****

  Grimwulf’s captain was not in his quarters. I posted men at his door, and then Myrick and I, along with several members of the guard, went to the duke’s suite.

  Someone, not the duke, said from inside of the suite, “The duke does not wish to have visitors. Go away!”

  Myrick rapped on the door and yelled, “Open the door in the name of the king!”

  I was prepared to have my guards force the door, but it turned out to be unnecessary. A moment later, the door opened and Duke Grimwulf stood there looking down at us. Unless I was mistaken, he appeared slightly annoyed, though he quickly adopted a casual mien.

  “King Dexter, what can I do for you? I was just conferring with my officers,” he said.

  “Are all of your officers here?” I asked.

  “No. My advisor took ill in the early morning. Captain Destrel escorted him to see your doctor. Callis is old and his health is poor. The journey was taxing for him. What is this about?”

  “We are investigating a crime,” I said. “Your men will have to be questioned. Stand aside please.”

  Grimwulf looked angry, but puzzled as well.

  “Cousin, if this is about my offer...”

  “It isn’t. It is much more serious than that. Please step aside and instruct your men to cooperate with our investigation.”

  The duke seemed to deflate some; he stepped back out of the doorway. My guards entered, followed by Myrick and me. Grimwulf’s three officers were standing around a table. Each had a hand near the hilt of their sword.

  “I don’t know what is going on here,” Grimwulf told them, “but stand at ease and cooperate with the king and his men.”

  Slowly, they lowered their hands to their sides.

  “Sergeant, remove their swords, one man at a time starting with him,” I said, pointing to Fenris.

  He handed Fenris’ sword to me. I moved to the window and examined the pommel in the morning sunlight. As I suspected, there was a stone missing from among the many small gems—diamonds and rubies—that were inlaid into the pommel. Not only that, but I saw what looked like a brown hair stuck in among the inlay. I showed it to Myrick. We examined the swords of the other two but saw no further evidence. My men retained all of the weapons however.

  “Duke Grimwulf, I will also need to examine your sword. Hand it to my sergeant,” I said.

  “King Dexter, this is absurd,” protested the duke, but he complied.

  I took the sword from the sergeant and nearly dropped it; it was that heavy, and nearly as tall as I was. I noted that it was razor sharp and immaculately cared for, but saw no evidence of its recent use.

  “Search the duke’s men for additional weapons and then detain them,” I instructed.

  “King Dexter, I must protest. This treatment of my men is uncalled for.”

  “Stand down, cousin. You will be confined to this suite until this matter is settled,” I said. It felt good. The fear that I had felt when I had first met Grimwulf had been replaced with anger and it emboldened me. I seemed to be making all of the right moves now. “Sergeant, once the duke’s officers have been secured, dispatch six men to the infirmary. Detain Captain Destrel and check on the condition of the duke’s advisor. If the advisor is well enough, confine him to his assigned quarters. If he is not well, post two guards in the infirmary with him at all times.”

  I watched as the three officers were led away. I was confident that the mystery of my family’s murder was as good as solved. When they were gone, it was I, Myrick, Grimwulf, and three guardsmen left in the room.

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on now?” Grimwulf asked me.

  “I believe you know the answer to that,” I said. “My men will have to search your room.”

  Resigned, Grimwulf threw up his hands and started to sit.

  “Duke Grimwulf, wait,” said Myrick. “I will have to search the sofa before you sit down.”

  Grimwulf actually growled. He crossed his arms, then gestured with one hand inviting Myrick to get on with his search. Myrick did a quick, but thorough search of the sofa.

  “It’s alright.”

  Grimwulf sat down while Myrick and one of the guards searched the suite. Myrick removed several knives, but nothing that could tie Grimwulf to the various murders with certainty.

  “Duke Grimwulf. Someone will talk to you later. If you need anything, let the guards at the door know,” I said. “Just because I have to confine you here temporarily does not mean I will not be hospitable.”

  “Yes, your brand of hospitality is becoming apparent, my cousin. I shall not forget it. Whatever your...advisors...have told you is a lie. I have done nothing.”

  “Of course.”

  We left. Myrick assigned a number of guards to watch Grimwulf’s door as well as his windows. His officers were taken to cells in Tower Imbroglio.

  “Myrick, we need to find Brin,” I said. I hoped that she was no longer mad.

  ****

  I found her in the third place I looked—Francis’ tower. I hoped that he had gotten some sleep before my petulant and still angry friend had come to visit. It looked to me as if she had been crying behind her thick lenses. I felt bad. I would make it up to her I promised myself, but at the moment, I needed her help. She saw me and Myrick enter and sat up straight and stiff.

  “Oh, fine,” Brin said. “I guess I’m not welcome here either. I’ll go.”

  “No, Brin pleas
e. I’ve been looking for you, to apologize for yesterday. I am sorry that your feelings were hurt over the dinner. But it wasn’t something that I held for pleasure. I thought the duke and his men were killers. I didn’t want you to be in any danger,” I said lamely, thinking of how the two of us had wandered alone into the old castle.

  “I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I know that. Like I said, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “When?”

  “How about now? What would you feel about leading a mission that could help us to prove that we have Ardwulf’s killer?”

  She sniffled but looked interested. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You know where Duke Grimwulf’s suite is?”

  She nodded affirmative.

  “Are there any hidden passages into or out of the suite?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I think there’s two.”

  “What about someplace where we could spy on him, like when we watched Tabor Till at his desk?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then I have an important job for you. I need for you to guide some guardsmen into the passages so they can watch the ways out of his suite. And I need for you to spy on him to see if he does anything suspicious. Will you do that?”

  “I might. But first say you’re sorry again.”

  “I am really sorry, Brin.”

  “And promise that you won’t act like an ass again.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise what?”

  “I promise that I won’t act like an ass. Come on, Brin.”

  “Oh alright, I’ll do it,” she said.

  “But before we go, let’s all sit down. Francis, a lot has happened in the last hour or so.”

  We sat around Francis’s table. I quickly relayed the news about the murder by the lake and the detention of Grimwulf and his men. Francis listened in silence, fingers arched before him, while Myrick and I talked. I finished and for a second the only sound came from a bubbling beaker on the alchemist’s workbench.

  “It does sound very incriminating,” Francis agreed. “Just go slowly. This is no small crime and Grimwulf is not just any suspect. We have him here, so we don’t have to rush.