Multiverse Mashup Omnibus, page 64
Cuna stepped down from the stage. She looked a little lost. We all stood up.
“That was keen, Miss Cuna,” Billy said.
Sally tugged on Cuna’s leather tunic. “What will you do now?”
“I have a suggestion if you seek new purpose, Avowed,” Maccus said.
Cuna ignored him. She looked at the children, then knelt down in front of them.
“Who are you children?” she asked.
“I’m Billy Tucker, ma’am. And this is my sister Sally.”
“From where have you come to Sacred Oath?”
“From awfully far away,” Sally answered.
“They are the grandchildren of the Keeper of History,” Maccus said. “Visiting from Uscurg. This Truthseeker is their protector.”
She shot me a quick glance. “A Truthseeker?” She looked back at the children. “From Uscurg?”
“Um…”
Billy looked at me. I think he was hoping I would give him permission to tell the truth, but I shook my head. He looked down, not meeting the woman’s eyes.
“The name of our town,” he said, “is Pleasant Junction.”
Cuna smiled. “That is truth, I think.”
She stood up, quickly unsheathed her sword, then knelt again, resting the blade across her knees.
“You children saved my life, my honor, and my Oath. You are far from home, in a city of vipers, and your protector is a liar.”
“Hey, now,” I started.
She ignored me. She picked up the sword, held it in the palms of both hands, and extended it towards the children. She bowed her head.
“I, Cuna of Dothad, faithful Avowed, do hereby swear to serve Billy and Sally Tucker in all things, and shall safeguard them from all dangers, shielding their lives even at the cost of my own. I am bound to them until their deaths, or mine.”
She looked up at them. The children’s jaws were hanging open. Mine was too.
She squeezed her hands against the blade. Blood dripped down onto the polished wooden floor of the Grand Cathedral.
“This is my Oath.”
Ten
I swung my sword at Cuna but she dodged easily. I expected to be able to get my defenses up before she could recover her footing, but she was far faster than her size led me to believe. She thrust with her own sword and would have gutted me if she had been trying. Instead, the blade sliced into the left side of my tunic, catching a fold, without touching my skin.
“You’re good,” I said.
“As are you.” She pulled her blade free. “But I am better.”
“With a sword, maybe.”
We were out on the open patio that was attached to the quarters that History had arranged for me and the children. It had a low stone wall running the length of it, metal tables and chairs, and a few potted plants for atmosphere.
I dropped my sword, letting it crash to the terra cotta tiled floor. I grabbed a chair and chucked it at her head. While she was swatting it away, I gave a roundhouse kick to her sword arm, causing her to drop the weapon. I planted the foot I had kicked with back on the ground, pivoted, and slammed my other foot towards her stomach.
She caught it. She didn’t even take a step back. I wobbled as my momentum was halted, and she simply twisted my foot in her hands. I had to jump and spin to avoid having my ankle snapped, and I dropped to the ground, my back slamming hard into the tile.
“Ow.”
She released my foot and stood over me, her hands on her hips. “I am a better fighter than you, in any style of combat.”
I took a couple of deep breaths and held up a finger. “Just let me get my wind back. I’ll be ready for another round.”
“You are testing me. You do not believe I can be trusted with the children.”
I sat up. “Those kids are my responsibility.”
“So you say.” She sat down on the patio floor next to me. “It is I who should be testing you. You interrogated me for hours, but would answer no questions about yourself.”
We had returned to the castle after Cuna’s unexpected avowal. We ate dinner with the Keeper of History, then the kids borrowed some books to take back to our chambers. Maccus was returning to get me later, after his meeting with Seas, to take me to investigate the Keeper of All’s bedroom. I wanted to be able to leave the kids in Cuna’s care so I wouldn’t have to take them with us to a murder scene, but I had to be certain they’d be safe. Hence the sparring, and the questions.
“I’m an open book,” I said.
“You are a liar. And you force the children to lie for you.”
“I don’t—”
“I have been to Uscurg. That is not where you come from. And I have met Truthseekers. You are not one.”
I sighed. “Cuna—”
“Answer me this, and do not lie. If your truth was revealed, would the children be endangered?”
I thought about it for a moment. I was usually a fan of coming clean about my missions if I could, but going about letting everybody know we were from another universe would lead to endless questions, and if word got out that the kids weren’t History’s grandchildren, we might wind up back where we started, accused of being Keblian spies.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes. The lie that I am a Truthseeker, and that Billy and Sally are related to the Keeper of History, is best for them. For now.”
She nodded. “I believe that you place the children’s safety as your highest priority. What’s more, they trust you, and they are more perceptive than any Truthseeker. I choose to trust you as well.” She stood up and offered me her hand. “Will you grant me your trust in turn, Jed Ryland?”
I took her hand. “I will. If you can knock me on my ass, you’re probably a better guardian for them than I am.”
She laughed, the first time I had seen her do so, then pulled me to my feet. “This is true!” She slapped my back. “But they will be all the safer by having us both watch over them.”
I brushed myself off. “All right, Cuna, brace yourself. You might think I’m lying to you again, but this is the absolute truth. The kids and I come from—”
There was a knock at the door, cutting off my explanation. Cuna’s bearing didn’t change in any obvious manner, but I felt her become more alert, and her attention shifted unobtrusively back inside. She picked her sword up, sheathed it, and strode back through the patio doorway. I followed behind.
The kids were sitting at a table in the common room, going over the books and scrolls they had borrowed from History. They were reading about the castle itself, and life in Sacred Oath. Trying to learn more about the strange world they had found themselves in.
Cuna sat at the table with them while I crossed the room and opened the door. Maccus was there, looking as fine as always in his Peaceful uniform.
“Hey,” I said. “Come in.”
“Good evening to you.” He came into the room and nodded to the others. “Avowed. Children.”
“Good evening to you, Keeper,” Cuna said.
“Maccus!” Billy looked up from his book. “Did you know that Castle Gray is over four hundred years old? The oldest part of it, I mean, nearest the sea. The newest part is only forty years old!”
“I did not know that, Billy.”
“And Maccus!” Sally let go of her scroll, which rolled up halfway. “Do you know where Castle Gray gets its name?”
“From the gray of its stone, I have always heard.”
“No!” Sally’s eyes brightened at the excitement of relaying an unknown fact. “No, it’s from the husband of the Keeper of All when it was first built! His name was Gray! Everybody forgets about him because he never really did much but his wife named the castle after him!”
“That’s fascinating. Thank you, children. Castle Gray has many secrets, it seems. You shall have to ferret them out.”
The children beamed and went back to their reading.
“Don’t encourage them,” I muttered to him. “They still want to help solve the murder.”
He gave a quick laugh. “We shall have to trust our new Avowed friend to keep them out of trouble.”
“Excuse me? Pardon for interrupting, Keeper.”
We spun back to the door. A short, stocky woman with gray hair and a gray robe stood in the doorway, her hand hovering over the open door, as if uncertain if she should still knock.
“Maude,” Maccus said. “Jed, Maude is Castle Gray’s head cook. She serves the finest meals in all the Kept Lands.”
“You’re too kind, Keeper.” The cook looked around the grand chamber anxiously. “I’m sorry to bother you, my lord.”
“Come in, please,” I said. “Sit.”
“Oh, no, no. Thank you, my lord, but I mustn’t stay long. Begging your pardon, but I heard you was a Truthseeker?”
“That’s right.”
“And I’ve heard Truthseekers help all that appeals to them, high born or low?”
I hesitated, not knowing if that were correct or not, but Cuna jumped in. “You have heard true, old woman.”
Maude sniffed. “I don’t see why ‘old’ was strictly necessary. But that’s good, then. I needs your help, Truthseeker. I’ve got a mystery for you.”
I didn’t even have to turn around. I could feel the children perking up at the sound of the word ‘mystery.’
Maccus shook his head. “The Truthseeker has no time to find some missing loaves of bread for you, Maude. Why don’t you report this to one of my Peaceful?”
She laughed. “Your Peaceful are more likely to steal bread than find it. That’s why I came looking for the Truthseeker. And it ain’t bread that’s the trouble. I’ve got a missing fish!”
I cast a quick glance at Maccus, who looked as bewildered as I felt.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you repeat that?”
“I’ve got a missing fish and I don’t know where it’s gone!”
“A missing fish?”
Maude looked over at Cuna. “Are you sure he’s a Truthseeker? Seems a bit dim.”
Maccus took a deep breath before addressing the cook again. “Explain to us, Maude, why you believe a stolen fish is a crime worthy of the Truthseeker’s attention?”
“But it weren’t stolen! That’s what’s weird!” She blew a lock of hair off her forehead. “You know I runs a tight kitchen, Keeper. You know I do.”
“You are the terror of every scullion, Maude.”
She smiled. “Indeed I am. Deliveries come right before sunrise, right up to the gate outside the kitchen. I count them at the gate when they arrive, and I count them again when they’re stocked. And this morning, I counted the lupper fish when they arrived, and then I counted them again when I stocked them, and—”
“And you had a missing fish,” I finished.
“I had a missing fish!”
“And you couldn’t have miscounted?”
She gave me a withering glare. “I think I can count to five, Truthseeker. I ain’t had much in the way of schooling, but I think I can be trusted to count to five.”
“Did you check if any of your staff had stolen it?”
“Oh. Oh, thank you very much.” She clasped her hands together and opened her eyes extra-wide. “What would I have done without the all-knowing Truthseeker to suggest that if something’s gone missing, maybe somebody stole it! Oh, what a ninny I am!” She snarled and spat on the floor. “Course I checked! The fish weren’t never left unattended, and I searched everybody who was anywhere near the kitchen. Shut the whole place down as soon as I noticed, nobody in or out. Not a fish to be found!”
“I’m sorry, Maude,” Maccus said. He gestured towards the door. “Your missing fish will have to wait. The Truthseeker and I—”
“We’ll take the case!”
The kids bolted from their seats to stop Maccus before he could usher Maude out.
“You?” Maude said. “Ain’t you History’s grandchildren?”
“We’re detectives, ma’am,” Billy said.
“Yes! Yes, they are detectives!” I put one arm around Billy and the other around Sally. “They’re apprentice Truthseekers, Maude. If anyone can get to the bottom of your mystery, it’s these two.”
Sally smiled up at me. “You mean it, Jed? We can investigate?”
“You sure can.”
Anything to keep you far away from murder and political intrigue, I thought.
“Hooray!” Billy shouted, thrusting his fist into the air. “The Lemonade Stand Detectives and the Case of the Missing Fish!”
“Wasn’t a whole case of missing fish,” Maude said. “Just the one.”
“We’d better examine the crime scene,” Sally said.
“Nope.” I spun them around and shooed them back to the table. “It’s getting late. You can check out the kitchen tomorrow. Cuna will take you while Maccus and I are interviewing Keepers in the morning.”
The Avowed nodded. “Of course.”
Billy looked worried, but he sat back down at the table. “Please don’t tamper with the evidence until we arrive, ma’am.”
“Do what to what now?” Maude asked.
“Don’t touch the other fish,” I explained.
She headed for the door. “Oh, that’s all right, then. I’ve set them aside already. Nasty tasting things, anyway. I only order them for the Keeper of Coin. He’s the only one who can stomach them. Good evening to you all.”
“Good evening, Maude,” Maccus said. Once she was gone, he turned to me with a dour expression. “Shall we go?”
“Would you give me a minute with the kids? I’ll be right with you.”
He seemed surprised, but stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
“Kids,” I said. “We’re bringing Cuna on-board. Fill her in on our story while I’m out, all right?”
Sally grinned. “We can tell her everything? For real?”
“For really real. If she’s going to protect you, it’s better that she has all the info.”
Cuna nodded. “Thank you, Jed Ryland. I agree. And I will keep your secrets, whatever they are.”
“All right, then.” I took a step back from the table.
“Goodbye, Jed,” Billy said.
“Goodnight, Jed,” Sally said. “In case you’re not back before we’re in bed.”
“Oh, yes,” Billy agreed. “Goodnight, Jed.”
I sighed. I really did trust Cuna. But it was killing me leaving the kids behind. If something happened to them…but I was on the hunt for a murderer, not to mention someone or something with the power to bridge universes. The kids were safer staying out of it.
“Goodnight, guys. See you in the morning.”
I met Maccus out in the hall. “Everything is all right?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. Fine. Just saying goodnight to the kids.”
We walked towards the Keeper of All’s private chambers, which were on a lower level of the castle, closer to the throne room. Or the Chamber of Unity, as they called it. Two Peaceful were on guard outside the door, and they gave the salute I had come to recognize as part of the sign of the Promised God – one hand raised, palm out. Putting the other hand on the heart would make it the full religious gesture I had seen people make when they were frightened or surprised.
Maccus pointed further down the hall. “Down there are Malinali’s chambers.”
“The queen?”
“We don’t use that word, but yes.”
“Is anyone else housed in this part of the castle?”
“Only Prince Ustoffe, further down.”
We stepped through the door into the Keeper of All’s massive outer chambers. They were opulent to the extreme, with thick carpeting, a golden chandelier, and plush furniture far more comfortable than the wooden and metal set-up in my rooms. A roaring fireplace blazed, providing the only source of light. Several archways led off to other rooms, but at the far end, two more Peaceful stood guard over a heavy door.
“The night of the murder, there were two Peaceful on guard outside the outer chamber,” Maccus explained. “When the Keeper retired, they moved in here, to stand watch outside his bedroom door.”
“And those are the ones you trusted?”
“Aye. As are those who have been on guard ever since. No one has come or gone from the inner chamber save me.”
“All right, then. Let’s take a look.”
The Peaceful parted to let us through. The Keeper of All’s bedroom was much simpler than the rest of his living quarters. The room was large, but sparsely furnished. A massive four-poster bed took up much of the open space. Several sconces lined the walls, and on the side of the bed near the door was a small table bearing an oil lamp. On the far wall was a massive tapestry, depicting some ancient historic battle in great detail.
“Isn’t that an exterior wall?” I asked. “The Keeper of All doesn’t get a window?”
“There are windows on the floors above and below, but not this one. You’d have to ask a Keeper now dead for centuries why he chose this room. It has been the Keeper of All’s quarters since it was newly built.”
“Hm. You’d better light some lamps and close the door. We’re going to need privacy.”
He went back out to the outer chamber and returned with a thin lit candle. He used it to light the oil lamp on the near table and the ones in the sconces, then blew out the candle and closed the door. The lamps provided a surprising amount of light – the room wasn’t as gloomy as I had imagined it would be.
I examined the bed. It was unmade, and the tangled sheets were covered in blood. I walked around to the far side of the bed from the door and found a few more small stains on the floor there. A few minutes inspection revealed none elsewhere.
“He was killed with his own dagger, you said?”
“Aye,” Maccus replied. “A gift from his father. It never left his side. When his attendants undressed him at night, they would take his clothing but leave the dagger on the table there.”
“You’re sure that’s where it would have been, the night he died?”
“So the attendants say, and I don’t see why they would lie about such a thing. Besides…” He gestured towards the bed. “There’s nowhere else near the bed for it to have been. Why?”
“There’s blood on the floor here, on the other side of the bed from where the dagger would have been.”
