“Loyal to your mother, your Highness, which does not add up to the same thing,” Orkid answered. “At any rate, the list does not contain those who are traitors, only those who are known to hold some grudge against the late king, your sister, or yourself.”
For a moment, Olio was speechless. There was no way Orkid could have produced this list in the last few hours. The chancellor was staring at him fixedly with his dark eyes, and he had to avert his gaze.
“Xella Povis?” Areava asked, pointing to a name on the second page. “The head of the merchant guild? I know for a fact that she was a good friend of Berayma’s. Why is her name here?”
“A good friend of your brother’s, yes, but I know she has opposed you several times on issues concerning your late mother’s policy of subsidizing ship building.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Olio said fiercely, still not daring to meet Orkid’s gaze. “If you wrote down the name of every person in Kendra who ever had a bad thought about our mother or Berayma or Areava or me, the list would be ten leagues long!”
“It may well prove to be of no consequence,” Orkid agreed patiently. “But if I err on the side of caution, I will not be ashamed of it. My duty is to your sister, and not to the niceties of polite society. I have included the names of all those of whom I have knowledge concerning some possible matter of dispute between them and a member of the House of Rosetheme.”
Areava sighed. “Very well, Orkid. Thank you for your efforts. I will read the document and inform you of any action I consider necessary.” She checked the shadow cast by the hour stick near the study window.
“I have an appointment with Primate Northam in a short while.” Orkid’s eyebrows lifted in inquiry. “To make arrangements for Berayma’s funeral,” she added testily.
Orkid cast his gaze down to the floor. “Of course, Your Majesty. I will inform you immediately of any developments regarding the search for Prince Lynan.”
Areava stood up. “Do that.” She turned to her brother. “Olio, you had better come with me. After all, this meeting with the primate is a family affair.”
As Orkid turned to leave, Areava called him back. “By the way, I want the Key of the Scepter. It was still around Berayma’s neck when he… when his body… was taken away.”
“Then it must still be with him. I will give orders for it to be collected at once and brought to you.”
As Orkid left, Areava whispered to Olio, “For without that Key, what authority have any of us?”
Lynan did not know how long it took him to fall asleep. He knew he had stayed awake longer than the others because he remembered hearing their snoring and snuffling and thinking how loud it was. He had never slept in a room with other people before, and found it most distracting. He also remembered the fire going out, leaving the room in unrelieved gloom. But one moment he seemed to be staring into the darkness, and the next he was blinking as bright sunlight poured into the room, trying to blind him. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and moaned as the memory of the previous day’s events flooded into his mind.
Jenrosa appeared, squatted by his side, and shoved a mug of hot cider into his hands. “Drink this, and when you’re ready, pull on your boots; there’s porridge waiting for you in the kitchen, but it won’t stay warm forever.”
Lynan thirstily quaffed the cider and followed Jenrosa into the kitchen. There was a large pot containing something gray and glutinous bubbling away on a stove. He scooped some into the bowl Jenrosa handed him and swallowed a mouthful. It tasted better than it looked.
“Good,” he mumbled to Jenrosa as he wolfed down more.
“Kumul made it.”
“Where is he? And where is Ager, and our host?”
Even as he asked the question, Kumul and Ager entered through the back door carrying armfuls of firewood. “Grapnel has gone to hear what is being said on the streets,” the constable said. “He should be back soon.”
Lynan returned to the main room with Kumul and helped him start a new fire in the hearth. Then, together, they looked out the window and onto the narrow street. Across the way was a baker’s shop with a stall outside; business was already brisk—a queue extended some way down the street.
“I wonder what has happened to Areava and Olio,” Lynan wondered aloud, his voice unhappy.
“There’s nothing we could have done for them,” Kumul said matter-of-factly. “Anyway, we’ll know soon enough. Here comes Grapnel.”
The front door opened and Grapnel entered. He quickly closed the door behind him and made sure it was locked, then waved Lynan and Kumul away from the window. Jenrosa and Ager heard Grapnel come in and joined them. Grapnel looked into their faces, and his own grim expression made their hearts sink.
“The news isn’t good. Word’s out that Prince Lynan murdered Berayma, then was forced to escape from the palace before he could kill Areava and Olio. Areava is now queen, and has ordered that you be found and brought to her for justice.”
“My God! Areava is part of the plot!”
Grapnel shrugged. “Possibly, but remember, your Highness, that Orkid and Dejanus can argue their case with her, arrange the evidence any way they like. She may be innocent of any wrongdoing, yet still believe you guilty of the crime.”
“Then I have to see her,” Lynan said emphatically. “I will convince her of the truth.” He gathered his coat from the floor and made for the door. “The sooner I go to the—”
Grapnel held him by the arm. “You wouldn’t make it to see the queen,” he said. “Dejanus would make sure you were brought to her with your head already removed from your shoulders. Even Kumul couldn’t get you past the Royal Guards at the moment. They are devastated that they failed to protect Berayma, and are determined to prove themselves not only by killing you and Kumul, but by ensuring no one gets to see the queen without her explicit permission.”
Grapnel turned to Ager and Jenrosa. “They know you two escaped with the prince. Warrants are out for all four of you. The Royal Guards have already started searching house to house. We don’t have much time.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Kumul asked.
Grapnel nodded. “Look down the street,” he said, pointing to the window. Kumul did so and saw a long wagon covered in an oilskin parked outside an open warehouse. One of the sorriest looking nags in Kendra was hitched to the wagon.
“Yours, I assume,” Kumul said.
“Aye, and full of bolts of cloth. I have a ship leaving for Chandra this morning, and this is the last part of its consignment. I’ll get you down to the docks hidden under the oilskin.”
Lynan looked up at Grapnel. “Then I am leaving the city?”
“You have no choice,” Grapnel answered evenly. “You need to find a place where you will be safe for a short while, and where you will have enough time to plan your next move.”
“Surely someone will be watching the docks,” Kumul said.
Grapnel laughed. “Of course. An eel called Shehear, a snitch who does occasional jobs for the chancellor’s intelligence network, is already down there waiting for something to happen. First sight of you lot and he’ll be hurrying as fast as his legs can carry him to find the nearest detachment of Royal Guards.”
“So what’s the point?” Jenrosa demanded.
“As soon as you’ve boarded my ship, Shehear will be off. That’s when we’ll transfer you to the ship’s shore boat. It has a sail, and is easy to row if the wind dies on you. You can follow the coast until you are well past the city. Meanwhile, the ship itself will head northeast, hopefully drawing all the attention.”
“But I know nothing about boats!” Lynan declared.
“I know how to sail one,” Ager said. “I’ve been second officer on too many merchanters to ever forget.”
“And I can navigate,” Jenrosa added confidently.
“Fine, but where will we go?”