I stared at the death staff, wondering how she had been killed, if she were so powerful. Captain Suiden shot a look at me and, turning back to Laurel, opened his mouth.
"But if it's so horrific, why carry it to the Royal City?" Captain Javes asked before Suiden could speak.
"I can't leave it here, honored captain."
"Take it back to the Border," Javes said.
"If I return with honored Prudence's body now, especially the way it is, we will have war." Laurel sighed.
"Well, it'll at least make a good argument before the king.”
Captain Suiden gave me another look, then turned around and faced the rest of the troopers. "You all heard Ambassador Laurel. No one will so much as think about touching it unless directed by and under me ambassador's supervision." He looked at Ryson and Slevoic, standing side by side. "If I find you acting outside of my orders, you will curse the day your mother first smiled at your father.”
We spent the time waiting for the promised guide tidying away our gear. I was more interested in the baths than food (and sleep before either), but was willing to explore what the mess had to offer, so when the commander's aide returned, I jumped up from the cot ready to journey forth— only to feel a hand on my arm.
"The captain wants to talk to you, Rabbit," Groskin said.
I walked back to where Suiden sat with Javes and Laurel Faena. "You have guard duty, Lieutenant,"
Suiden said.
I don't know what my face looked like, but Suiden dismissed everyone else, and they went without argument— even Javes.
"Sit." Captain Suiden indicated the cot opposite him.
I sat, keeping my gaze over the captain's shoulder.
'Tell me the difference between knowing and conjecture, Lieutenant.”
Surprised, I answered. "Knowing is being certain, conjecture is guessing. Sir.”
"Very good. Succinct." I heard the captain shift on the cot. "Now, Javes can guess where Slevoic sent Ryson yesterday. He can make another guess as to why, especially when Governor Hoelt was so disappointed when she realized that she wasn't our only caller. But he has no proof and so he is limited in his response.”
"But Slevoic lied," I said angrily. "Whatever he sent Ryson for, it wasn't to alert any kin of his arrival.
Sir.”
"Most likely," Suiden said, his voice dry. "But don't think that Slevoic can't produce scores of people swearing on their fathers' beards that they are his cousins, that he sent them a message that he was coming to Gresh, and that he's the best of fellows."
I frowned at the opposite wall.
"You, though, Rabbit, with your shouts and shrieks in front of all and sundry—" The cot shifted again.
"Did you understand what was going on in the horse yard with Commander Freser?”
I forgot my pique enough to drop my eyes to the captain's. "He was trying to get me to say that Doyen Allwyn was involved in Prudence Oak's murder."
"Very, very good," Suiden said, his face calm. "Politics, Rabbit. The commander was trying to use you to gain an edge over the church here in Gresh. It was clumsily done and you were able to deflect him, but you made yourself vulnerable in the first place by acting without thinking.” Captain Suiden paused for a moment. "Gresh is a provincial town with delusions of grandeur, no matter how it bills itself as the gateway to civilization. If you're so easily tripped here, how will you fare when you reach Ivervsly?" He stood up. "Think, Lieutenant, before you leap sticklebutt into something you should have seen coming."
"Yes, sir," I said as I also stood. "It just took me by surprise and all.”
"I suppose it did, Lieutenant. Remember, though, that no matter what—or who—the staff was in the Border, here it's just a stick, special only because it has bells.”
The next morning Captain Suiden completed the arrangements for us to sail down the Banson and by early afternoon we were loading up on the riverboat. I had spent my own morning pressed into duty as Laurel Faena's assistant. Through a complicated dance of the magical and mundane—Laurel with wards and me with pliers—we removed the bells from the death staff and set them aside to await Doyen Allwyn's return, but he didn't come before we had to leave for the ship. After I boarded, I stood at the railing and watched the docks, keeping my face turned away from our guests. It didn't work, though, as I was spotted.
"Ho, Lieutenant Rabbit," Commander Freser called out, beckoning me.
Ho? I thought, as I went to join them. I started to salute.
"None of that, my lord," the commander said, smiling. "So, what do you think of our fair city?”
Ho, I thought. Someone told him who I was. "It looks very nice, sir.”
"It's a shame—isn't it, Major Verne—that you won't have time to do a little sightseeing. Though I suppose Gresh pales in comparison with Iversly." Freser paused. "I've never been myself. What's it like?”
"Lieutenant Rabbit has been based in Freston for, what? Five years, my lord?" Captain Javes asked.
I nodded. "Yes, sir.”
"I'm sure Iversly has changed a great deal since then," he said.
I gave my own silly ass smile and nodded again at Javes' nonanswer. Commander Freser's own smile frayed a little as Major Verne ran a finger along his mustache.
"Well, city comparisons aside," said Governor Hoelt, "I'm sure your family'll be glad to see you again.”
My smile broadened into a whole herd of asses. "Yes, ma'am.” Frustration tightened the governor's mouth, as Laurel rumbled softly and ran a paw along his whiskers. Sighting fresh prey, Governor Hoelt brightened. "Ah, Ambassador Laurel. Were you able to remove the bells from Doyen Allwyn's staff?"
"Yes, honored governor.”
"Good," Commander Freser cut in. "Though I didn't see the doyen this morning. He did get them?”
"No, honored commander. We had to leave before he arrived. In fact, I brought them with me as I didn't want to leave them in the barracks. It worries me, though, that I am responsible for such potent church icons." Laurel frowned and rubbed his chin in thought. Then he brightened. "Perhaps you can take them to the elder, Commander Freser, or you, Governor Hoelt."
Horror flashed across both their faces.
"Oh, do not worry." Laurel hastened to assure them. "I am almost certain they're safe.” For a brief moment Javes looked amused, and I turned my head away to look over the docks to hide my own grin—and did a double take. Doyen Allwyn, his slight form in a plain brown robe, stood by the gangplank alone with baggage at his feet.
"Well, how about that," Laurel rumbled next to me.
The rota guard shouted and Captain Suiden appeared from the direction of the boat's helm, the boat's captain and first mate traveling in his wake.
"Grace to you, Doyen Allwyn." Captain Suiden bowed as the doyen came on board, carrying his baggage. "I received your message.”
Curious, I followed Commander Freser and company as they joined Suiden. As I arrived the captain said, "Lieutenant Rabbit, please be so kind as to get the doyen's things stowed.”
I nodded, reaching to take the baggage from the doyen. "Yes, sir.”
"If you will just show me where," Doyen Allwyn said, "I will carry it." He saw my look of surprise and smiled, hefting his bags as he followed me to the holds. "Penance through an act of humbleness, and so mortifying pride. It begins my purification."
"You're traveling with us then, Doyen?" I asked.
"Yes, my lord," Allwyn replied, showing that he too must've found out who I was. "The Synod was greatly upset by the whole matter, and felt it best to report it to Patriarch Pietr—and for him to perform the actual purification rite.” In one move the Gresh church had isolated and removed a potential liability, eliminated any leverage the city council or army might've gained, and positioned someone on the inside to gather information and deliver it fresh to the head of the Holy Church. Freser and Hoelt were probably frothing at the mouth.
"I apologize, sir, for any distress that I might have caused you," I said as we reached the stairs and began to descend.
"It's not your fault, Lord Rabbit," the doyen said, sounding a little winded. He gave a sigh of relief as we reached the bottom and I flung open the hold door. "Though I must admit that it felt as if my humbling began last night when my fellow clergy swept their robes aside to avoid being contaminated." He tottered into the hold and, after catching his breath, began to stack his bags in a corner. "It was amazing to come from so high to so low in so short a time.”
"Me, I'd wonder who decided to help out with a little push," I said.
"You mean, who gave me the staff," Doyen Allwyn said. He placed the last bag on top and began to root around in it. "That is also something to put before the patriarch."
That was a firm "Back off," so I didn't fish for the name—I'd wait a while. The doyen straightened, holding a small wooden casket. "I believe it isn't Border wood.” Since he was offering, I looked, and he was right. Doyen Allwyn then opened the box and I could see that it was lined with dark green velvet.
"For the bells," he said and closed the lid.
"Laurel Faena can ward it for you after you put them in, sir," I said, walking towards the door. Then stopped. Doyen Allwyn had discovered Prudence's body in the corner. Once more I could see the faint tracery of Laurel's wards like huge DO NOT TOUCH signs—and I deliberately looked away.
"Is it safe where anyone could get to it?" the doyen asked, staring.
"No matter where it's stored it will be unsafe," I said, staying by the hold door.
"Will anyone touch it?
"Only a fool, sir—and a fool will do so whether it's here or locked in the King's Treasury." I shrugged.
"Where else could we put it? I don't want it in my cabin.”
"Such an invisible thing," Doyen Allwyn said. "You look at it and see only what you expect to see."
A stick with bells on it, I thought. "Yes, sir.”
"The question arose in the Synod," Doyen Allwyn said, turning to leave, "about how I could carry it and not notice anything untoward." He waited for me to shut the door. "But then, I pointed out that they also did not notice anything unusual and what did that say about them?" He smiled again. "The question was dropped rather quickly."
"I bet it was," I murmured.
"The question also arose," he said, "if I were wise in meeting a magic—uh, Borderer—”
I smiled. "Laurel Faena, the Faena, or honored Laurel, sir.”
"Laurel Faena," he repeated, "but again I pointed out that whether or not we'd met, the staff still would have been, uh—"
"Prudence Oak's body," I supplied.
"Yes," Doyen Allwyn said. "They left that alone too." He crooked a smile once more. "I was so excited when I heard about the Faena." He started up the stairs and I followed. "Most think that the stories about the Border are made up, like dramas and children's pantomimes. It was a shock when I saw him face to face."
"I'd noticed, sir," I said.
"Even so, I had many questions and was hoping that honored Laurel would guest a few days with me,"
Allwyn continued. We reached the deck and stood blinking in the sunlight. "Only to have it all turned on its head."
"My captain wasn't too happy with me either.”
Allwyn crooked a smile. "I noticed." He looked around the boat. "Well, I suppose I should pay my respects to the captain of this vessel. No, there's no need," he said as I started to escort him, and his smile widened as his eyes traveled around the narrow deck once more. "I'm sure I should be able to find him on my own.” I watched the doyen to make sure he was going the right way, before turning and walking slowly in the opposite direction. Despite what Captain Suiden may have thought, I was brought up on Border politics, which were as contentious and devious as anything in the kingdom. There were always wheels within wheels, and these particular ones had the feel of being on a speeding cart drawn by runaway horses. I found an empty spot on the river side of the ship and leaned against the railing to think.
"Ho, Lord Rabbit!"
It was too good to last. "Go away, Ryson."
"Aw, does the widdle wabbit want to be awone?”
Before I could reach his throat, Jeff stepped between us. "Stop it, both of you."
"Poor widdle wabbit.”
I went around Jeff, but he managed to grab me. "No, Rabbit. You're in enough trouble as it is.” He was right. Shooting Ryson an evil glare, I yanked my arm away from Jeff and smoothed down my tabard.
"Widdle wabbit mussed his cwothes," Ryson said. 'Too bad.” "Lice-ridden, goat-tupping weasel—" I tried to go over Jeff and was tackled.
"Shut up, Ryson, or I'll shove your smalls up your nose," Jeff said as he sat on me.
Swallowing hard against nausea, I stopped struggling. "Get off. Your bony butt hurts.” As I rose to my feet, I was flanked by a badger and a weasel in the afternoon light. I then blinked and they were again just Jeffen and Ryson. Startled, I took a step back, but Jeffen caught my arm again.
"You know what he is, so why are you letting him get to you?" he asked. His glare intensified. "And what the pox-rotted hell were you thinking? Calling a doyen a murderer.”
"I didn't call him a murderer—" I began, searching for a way to escape.
"Yes, you did," Jeff said. He grabbed my tabard with his other hand and pulled me around to face him.
"What's wrong with you? You're already in the sodding mountain patrol. You can't get any lower, except maybe guarding latrine ditches.”
"Maybe it's because the magical hexed him or something," Ryson said.
"Maybe so," Jeff said, scowling at me.
"He did not and he would not." I gave up trying to get away and scowled back at the two of them. "That would be like a doyen practicing the dark arts. Worse. Anyway, Suiden's already made it clear that I acted with extreme stupidity."
"Aw, Suiden's widdle pet wabbit—”
"Oh, shut up!" I said, beating Jeffen. "Accuse me of sucking up as you lick toes. Never mind me, what's with you, Ryson? You always were a weasel, but now you're in line for the crown."
"I've done nothing—”
"And toadying Slevicious, of all people. I'd watch it, playing both ends against the middle. You'll get crushed."