A Kingdom Lost Page 4

  Starbride put on her most incredulous expression and hoped all her troubles had taught her to be a better liar. “This looks nothing like him.”

  “I’ve studied this drawing a thousand times, spent countless hours scaring myself witless with these stories. The old woman who cared for me when my mother wasn’t home told me that the Butcher didn’t really die, that he…” Hugo blushed to his ears.

  “That he remained alive to punish little boys who wouldn’t go to bed?”

  “Who wouldn’t eat their greens.”

  “Ah, and now you want me to believe that this Butcher has been aiding Katya for years and is now helping us hide from a Fiend, a creature ‘from the same fires which bore him’?” She tapped the picture. “This person would rather eat us than help us.”

  Hugo frowned. “Then why does he cover his face?”

  “Perhaps because people keep confusing him with a nefarious criminal.”

  “Maybe.”

  Starbride’s stomach began to settle. She didn’t want to push any more, hoping that with the nudges she’d given, he could convince himself.

  Then his head shot up. “Pennynail has a scar.”

  Starbride just kept from swearing. How could Hugo have such a good memory when he’d only had a glance? “I don’t remember him having a scar.”

  “I know what I saw. It’s unmistakable.” He pointed to the paragraph that mentioned the hanging and raised an eyebrow.

  Starbride fought the urge to sigh. Hugo was as intelligent as the rest of his family; that was a fact. And he was as nettlesome as her when it came to figuring out secrets. She decided to try another favorite tactic of Katya’s: diversion.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you a secret, but you cannot tell anyone else or let on to Pennynail that you know.”

  “It is him!”

  “Close. It’s his brother.”

  “The Dockland Butcher had a brother?”

  “Yes, and though they weren’t twins, they had a strong resemblance. Pennynail was a petty thief, and the Watch confused the two of them. Just as they were hanging Pennynail, they realized their mistake and let him go. The experience left him with an unfortunate scar, and he went into hiding because people kept confusing them. He fell in with Crowe as an informant.”

  Hugo looked away, and Starbride could almost see him trying to work it out in his mind. She nearly clenched her hands. What she said was implausible, but much less so than a snaggle-toothed, murdering monster cheating death twice and ending up in service to the royal family.

  “Can I talk to him?” Hugo asked.

  “Then he would know that I told you. He doesn’t want the fact that his brother was a murderer getting out.”

  “I suppose he would have to hide. I mean, anyone who’s read this book is going to see the resemblance.”

  She nodded. Almost there.

  Hugo stood, and Starbride nearly sighed again, but this time in relief. “I won’t let you down, Miss Starbride.”

  The words seemed rather cryptic to her, but she had to nod and let them go.

  A little while later, as she tried again to finish her new pyramid, Pennynail burst into her small room, and she knew the matter with Hugo was far from dropped.

  He nearly tore the mask from his head. “Young Lord Fool is trying to follow me now.”

  Starbride told him of her earlier conversation with Hugo. “I’m sorry. I thought I had him.”

  “No doubt he thinks I’ve duped you with my ‘brother’ story.”

  “Great,” she said. “I love to be thought of as stupid as well as oblivious.”

  “Only as stupid as you’re taking him to be. He’s going to get both of us caught if he keeps trying to be stealthy without my help. It’s like he’s forgotten how good at this stuff I am. I had to scrap my fact-finding mission.”

  “You’ll have to talk with him, Freddie.”

  “Bend him over my knee, more like.”

  When he wouldn’t look at her, Starbride smiled slightly. “It embarrasses you, doesn’t it, your past? Even though you didn’t kill those people.”

  He sighed, long and loud. “I haven’t had to deal with it in years. Now you really know why I wear the mask.”

  She nodded. She would have worn it, too. “He’s partly grown up on stories about you. Think you can convince him you’re not evil?”

  “Shouldn’t be that difficult. He’s actually seen evil. And there’s no time like the present.” Quick as a thought, Freddie cracked the door open, launched one arm out, and dragged Hugo inside by his coat collar.

  Starbride stood so quickly her chair nearly fell over. Freddie was right; they underestimated him. She grabbed Hugo’s arm before he could draw his rapier. “We’re just talking, Hugo.”

  He gaped like a fish, as if he wanted to say everything from, “I knew it!” to “Get behind me, Miss Starbride!”

  Freddie smirked. Starbride frowned at him. The more he enjoyed Hugo’s discomfort, the more Hugo’s back would go up.

  “Let’s sit and talk,” Starbride said. Once she’d resumed her seat, Hugo sank onto a corner of the bed. Freddie crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

  “There once was a person,” he said, “who did some terrible things. I can’t tell you who, nor why, nor even how because I made certain promises long ago—oaths, if you will—and I’m sure you both understand the value of those.”

  Hugo nodded. After a moment, Starbride did the same. She leaned toward his raspy voice, intrigued in spite of herself.

  “I broke into a house one night, right as this person was committing murder, not their first. We fought. The killer escaped and left me wounded, and that’s how the Watch found me. All of Dockland was frightened. They wanted someone to blame. They had me.”

  He rubbed the scar around his throat and stared at the wall. “Cimerion Crowe was my father.”

  When Hugo gasped, Freddie smiled at him. “He knew I hadn’t done the murders. He didn’t want me to hang, but he couldn’t get involved publicly, so he rescued me instead. I set out to find the killer, to deal with them and get back my name, only…” He chuckled. “Only things weren’t as I suspected. When it was done and the killer lay dead, no one could know it wasn’t me. So I pretended to die along with them.”

  Hugo sat on the edge of his seat. “Why didn’t you lay the blame at this person’s feet?”

  “Like I said, promises and oaths. To pay my father back for how he helped me, I became Pennynail. And I stayed Pennynail because I care about the people in the Order.”

  Hugo stared at his knees. “And you have to hide because no one will believe you?”

  Freddie cocked his head. “Do you believe me, boy?”

  “I’m not a boy.”

  Freddie chuckled as if Hugo’s reaction amused him to no end.

  “But do you believe him, Hugo?” Starbride asked.

  “I need to think.”

  As he stood, Freddie and Starbride both stared at him.

  “I know,” he said, “I’m not going to tell anyone.” With that, he walked out.

  Freddie sighed. “That’s a big risk we’ve just taken. If word gets out…”

  Starbride nodded. Just another thing to worry about.

  Chapter Five

  Katya

  Katya escorted her father ashore. He’d seemed dubious when she’d told him she thought he could sway the citizens of Pomanse into fighting for him. He finally agreed to speak with them, no matter his doubts, unwilling to leave them without a hint of what they faced.

  To meet the mayor, Da wore the same clothes as when they’d fled Marienne. The dark blue coat and black trousers had been carefully mended, the blood mostly faded. He donned a heavier coat for the walk to the mayor’s house. Katya stayed on his heels as he entered the large house while Brutal remained outside. Castelle and some of her friends lingered in the mayor’s halls as Katya and her father went through to the office.

  Mayor Crispin frowned as Katya and her father
entered, his dark eyes hooded and suspicious even after Captain Penner had vouched for them. His gaze shifted to the portrait of Da, the same representation that hung in every government building in Farraday, and he bowed deeply. It was a clumsy move compared to the well-executed turns at court.

  “M…Majesty,” he said, still bent over. “I am…I…”

  Da waved. “Rise, Mayor Crispin.”

  Crispin’s mouth hung open as if he suspected Da knew his name through some magic, and not because Captain Penner had told them. “Would you…” He cleared his throat. “Please, sit down, Majesty, and accept whatever meager repast my office can put together at this hour. That is…not to say that your visit is in any way…inconvenient, of course. I only meant—”

  “Thank you,” Da said as he sat. “Tea would be wonderful.”

  “Tea…yes, tea, right away.” He poked his head out the door and had a quick conversation with someone. The sound of footsteps hurrying away was overshadowed by another set of footfalls approaching the door.

  Katya stepped to her father’s side, reaching for the rapier she’d commandeered from one of the nobles. The mayor’s desk faced the door; she could turn it over, blocking access while she led Da out the large window. He could jump from the second story. Brutal would catch him while Castelle and her friends slowed their enemies’ progress through the hall.

  “Softly.” Da’s light touch on her arm almost made her jump. “Rampaging Fiends do not have a quick whisper in the hallway.”

  Katya let out a breath as she realized that Crispin was talking to someone. Of course, it could mean he was sending someone to Darren. She wondered if the Watch had found the real harbormaster yet.

  Crispin stepped back inside and smoothed his black hair. “Majesty, please allow me to present the caretaker of Duchess Skelda’s estate, Mr. Elton Davance.”

  “Majesty indeed,” Davance mumbled as he stepped inside. He was older than Crispin, graying at the temples, with a salt and pepper beard. Tall and broad-shouldered, he easily carried a long portrait in his arms. When he saw Da, he stopped cold, stared down at the portrait, and then at the one on the wall. Katya suppressed a grin, imagining him prying the portrait from the duchess’s hall so he could compare it to Crispin’s.

  Davance bowed. “Majesty.”

  “Indeed!” Crispin rubbed his hands together and chuckled. “Where is that fool boy with the tea?”

  “If we may talk, gentlemen?” Da said.

  They both sat, Crispin forsaking the chair behind his desk in order to sit at Da’s side, and Davance perching on the narrow window seat. Both glanced at Katya where she stood behind Da’s chair.

  “This is the captain of our guard,” Da said. “Lady Marchesa Gant.”

  They made seated bows. Katya nodded, glad Da had decided to keep her identity a secret. Perhaps he worried that another royal would give Davance and Crispin heart attacks.

  “Begging your pardon, Majesty,” Davance asked, “but did Duchess Skelda travel with you?”

  “I’m afraid not. We do not know what became of the duchess when Marienne fell.”

  “We heard rumors,” Crispin said, “but we hear so many out here.”

  “My guards have told me of the rumors circulating in Pomanse,” Da said, “and I hope you believe me when I say that the usurper’s reach is long. Lady Marchesa has already encountered one of his envoys in your city.”

  “Looking for you, Majesty,” Crispin added. “That is…not to say…”

  Da smiled a little, probably hearing the unspoken words as well as Katya: If the king left, so would the threat. “He is looking for whomever he can reach, Mayor Crispin. Unless you’ve already decided to side with the usurper?”

  “No, no, Majesty, of course not. It’s just, well, we aren’t prepared for war. We’re well defended from the sea, but only against pirate attacks. We haven’t had to repel a force overland for nearly a hundred years. And if these Fiends are extraordinarily strong, well, how do we prepare?”

  “The envoy got in and out without anyone seeing him,” Katya said. “You’ve got no guards on your wall, and those patrolling the streets are lax.”

  Davance scowled as if she attacked him personally. “We do our jobs well enough.”

  “Elton,” Crispin muttered.

  “Speak,” Da said.

  “Well, Majesty,” Davance said, “we’ve had no troubles besides our own for a long time, as the mayor says. The guards who work the duchess’s estate have aided when needed, but they’re not often needed.”

  Katya fixed him with a stern look. “They’re needed now.”

  “The usurper wants all of Farraday,” Da said. “Now or later, a fight is coming, and you must be prepared for it.”

  Both men nodded, but Katya could see skepticism in their eyes. She wouldn’t tell them of Darren’s ultimatum. The urge to give up their king in order to save their city might be too great. Either way, Roland wouldn’t spare this place forever.

  Katya could almost see the ideas swirling in Davance’s and Crispin’s minds. Bowing and portraits and tea were one thing. Da could force civility on them, but he couldn’t force them to fight, especially if they didn’t believe in the cause. Even the dispatched corpse Fiends wouldn’t sway them. Unanimated, they looked just like any other dead men.

  Da stood, his face an unemotional mask, but Katya knew he’d reached the same conclusion. It was time for one of his rousing speeches.

  “We will take our leave now,” he said quietly.

  Katya fought the urge to gawk. She stayed close behind as he walked to the door.

  Davance and Crispin babbled over each other in their haste to offer hospitality. Da shook his head. “We were not planning on staying, but our absence will not guarantee that the usurper and his forces will leave you alone. The crown needs your help to take this kingdom back. When we call, will you answer?”

  Both nodded, but Katya could see their relief. They really did believe that if Da left, the trouble would go with him. Katya nearly sneered at them.

  Captain Penner’s people collected supplies, and they sailed out of the harbor at dawn. Just before the sun bloomed in the east, Katya imagined she saw a burst of light, as if Pomanse had caught fire. She hoped it wasn’t a premonition, but even if the place was ablaze, there was nothing she could do about it. If she stayed to fight, she’d put her family in danger. And who knew how many corpse Fiends Darren had with him? If he’d been leaving them all through the countryside, he could have scores, hundreds. What could a few fighters do about that except die at the townspeople’s sides?

  Da joined her at the rail. “If Darren sacks Pomanse, the survivors will answer my call to arms.”

  Katya had to look away. The thought was logical but awful all the same.

  Da patted her shoulder. “If I had told them to run, they wouldn’t have done it. Some people cannot be rallied, no matter the speeches you give them.”

  “Is this our fate, Da? To sail from port to port, putting everyone in danger?”

  “We need to get ahead of Darren. If we can outrun Roland’s vanguard, we can head inland and find a place to dig in.”

  But if the power of a sailing ship couldn’t get them in front of Fiendish strength, she didn’t know what could.

  “We need to go farther than he’s even thought of,” Da said. He gave her a look out of the corner of his eye.

  Katya turned her head slowly to the east, squinting against the sun. Somewhere in that distance was Allusia, a land Roland probably knew little about with terrain that was largely unmapped by anyone but its inhabitants. But would the Umbriels be welcome there? If the Farradains weren’t interested in the conflict in their own kingdom, what hope was there that the Allusians would care at all?

  And how her heart would ache seeing hundreds of people with Starbride’s reddish-brown skin and black hair! And Starbride’s mother had returned to Allusia before Roland’s uprising. What would Katya say to her? To Starbride’s father? They wouldn’t accept tha
t Katya had to choose her family’s safety, the safety of the crown, above their daughter’s. All they’d see was that Katya had left their only child in reach of a monster.

  Katya rubbed her temples, too angry to even think of crying. She heard her father speaking quietly to Captain Penner. They could promise money or titles or power to any Farradains that answered the call to war. What might Allusia want? An Allusian army might even see a weakened Farraday as an opportunity. Katya didn’t envy her father that diplomatic tangle. She closed her eyes and prayed to the spirits to let Starbride live. Both for her own sake, and for the cohesion it would bring when the princess of Farraday married a daughter of Allusia.

  Katya headed below decks to try to get some sleep, though she didn’t think it would come easy. When she spied Castelle’s shadowy form waiting in the dim, lantern lit darkness of the ship’s halls, she pulled up short.

  “What’s wrong?” Katya asked.

  Castelle chuckled. “Something has to be wrong for me to want a private word with you?”

  “Lately, yes.”

  “I wanted to see how you were feeling.”

  “Feeling?”

  “Yes, you know the sort of thing: happiness, sadness…trouser-melting lust.”

  Katya chuckled. “I’m feeling the same as always: anxious, sad, and frightened.”

  “You, frightened?”

  Katya rolled her eyes. “We really don’t know each other well at all, do we?”

  “I thought, well, we could try being friends again. Friends that occasionally shout at each other, anyway.”

  Katya tried to think of a fast way out of this conversation. Her hammock waited.

  Castelle clucked her tongue. “Spirits above, you’re not flaying yourself again, are you?”

  “Flaying?” Katya blinked. “Oh, you mean the guilt.”

  “Yes, the guilt.”

  “I’m too tired to have this conversation again.”

  Castelle stepped close. “Let me help you.”

  “Fine. You keep up both sides of this argument so I can go to bed.” She tried to step around, but Castelle gripped her shoulders.