He knows, she thought. He knows who brought those mushrooms.
For some reason, he didn’t wish to tell.
Jaromir did not appear to have caught the twitch. “You’re telling me you have no idea who left a pile of mushrooms on your chopping table, and yet you served them to your captain?”
Volkian raised both hands in the air, palms up. “As I said, I have several assistants bringing me ingredients. It is a common practice, and I gave it no thought.”
Jaromir pointed to Keegan. “Well, if he dies, you’ll have a good deal to think about.”
The cook went pale.
By morning, Céline’s opinion of Quinn had risen even higher. The man certainly had backbone. He’d held the basin and followed her every instruction for hours.
Amelie had kept up with the boiling water, and Jaromir helped out where he could, and not long past the mid of night, Céline was sure she’d purged Captain Keegan of anything in his stomach. After that, they were all in wait-and-see mode, so she’d sent Amelie and Jaromir off to bed to get some sleep. Quinn had insisted on staying.
Keegan was so weakened by that point that he was unconscious and no longer groaning, so Céline and Quinn spent the remainder of the night quietly sitting at his side. But Céline’s mind was not still, and she continued going over and over everyone who had a motive to kill the captain. Unfortunately, the list was long, and the possible motives were convoluted.
First . . . what if he indeed was a murderer—for that was how she’d come to think of whoever might be intentionally turning these soldiers into wolves—and someone had found out and, instead of accusing him, had decided to kill him? Keegan had a strong motive for wanting to shut down the mining project, even if he lost face in doing so. He hated it here and wanted out.
However, even if he was not the one behind these recent tragedies, there were a number of people who would be glad to see him dead: Marcus and Mariah for two. Both of them had a reason to wish to be free of him.
In addition, there was a whole camp full of panicked soldiers. What if one of them assumed they’d be transferred and replaced should their leader die? Had that not happened once before?
The list of suspects was overwhelming, but she kept turning them over in her mind through the night until one other possibility occurred to her.
Just past dawn, Jaromir and Rurik came into the tent, and Jaromir leaned over the bed. He looked as if he hadn’t slept well, with dark circles under his eyes.
“How is he? Will he live?”
Céline reached up absently and rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know for certain, but I think so. His breathing is even, and he’s been sleeping normally for the past few hours.” She paused. “But he’ll be weak and ill for some time, possibly up to a month, and he won’t be fit for command while he’s healing.”
At that, Quinn looked up, and a quick flash of alarm crossed his face. She wondered why. Did he fear a clear lack of leadership?
Jaromir hadn’t seemed to notice Quinn’s flash of alarm, and he nodded to Céline. “All right. But you both need to get some sleep. I’ll sit with him.”
“Where’s Amelie?” she asked.
“I left her sleeping in your tent,” Jaromir answered tightly.
Glancing at Rurik, Céline tried to stand and wobbled. “Guardsman Rurik, would you walk me back? I’m so tired I can barely stand.”
Rushing forward, Rurik took her arm. “Of course.”
She let him lead her out, and she took a deep breath. The fresh air smelled good after sitting with Keegan all night.
“The lieutenant said you were something to see in there,” Rurik told her as they walked. “He said he’d trust his life to you before any court physician he’s ever met.”
“Did he?”
That was unusual. Jaromir wasn’t one to pay compliments. But Céline had other things on her mind, and she noticed two small empty tents to their left.
“Rurik, stop a moment,” she said, stepping between the tents.
“What? Are you that tired? Do you need me to carry you?”
As soon as they were out of sight, she turned on him. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. Jaromir will find out anyway, and it’s better for you if he hears it from me.”
They were standing close enough that she could see his light freckles clearly, and she noticed his eyes were green.
Before he could speak, she asked, “Did you leave those mushrooms for the captain’s cook?”
Rurik’s mouth fell open.
“You’ve wanted out of here since before we arrived,” she rushed on. “And yesterday, you asked what was standing in my way, and I told you it was Keegan. You were off all afternoon with Amelie, through the forest and in a meadow. While she was resting or watching the horses, you could have slipped off, picked enough mushrooms, and hidden them. You were both back today before me, and then you went to stable the horses. You’d have had time to get the mushrooms onto the cook’s chopping table. What if we’d been invited to the captain’s table? Amelie loves mushrooms in butter. You could have poisoned her.”
Rurik closed his mouth and shook his head. “I never!” He took a step back. “I’ll not deny there was a moment or two when I thought everyone here might be better off if that captain was dead, but I wouldn’t kill him. And if I did, I wouldn’t do it by poison! I don’t know one mushroom from another, and poison is a woman’s weapon.”
Céline was skilled at reading faces and voices and gauging reactions. At one time, her profession had depended upon it.
He was telling the truth.
She reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I had to catch you off guard. I had to know.”
He exhaled through his nose and glanced away, still offended.
“I really am quite tired,” she said. “Could you take me to my tent?”
As they moved on, something he’d said kept echoing in her mind.
Poison is a woman’s weapon.
Amelie stirred and opened her eyes.
She was in the bed inside their tent, fully clothed, and Céline was sleeping quietly beside her—also fully clothed. Frankly, Amelie wondered that she hadn’t woken up when her sister crawled into the bed, as Céline’s hair and clothing smelled . . . rather strong. After all, she had been up through the night tending a retching captain. She wasn’t going to smell like a rose.
Carefully, Amelie slipped out from under the covers and made her way to the tent’s flap. Her sister didn’t stir. Amelie knew that Céline didn’t care to sleep during the day, but exceptions must be made.
Besides, Amelie had a task that was best handled alone.
Judging by the sun, she guessed it to be midday or so, and she wondered how Captain Keegan was faring. Had the man lived through the night? She assumed so. Otherwise, Céline would have awoken her with the bad news. Not that Amelie would have considered Keegan’s death much of a tragedy, but Céline and Quinn had worked hard to keep him alive.
And this morning, Amelie had decided it would be best to track down the poisoner.
Several of the soldiers milling about glanced her way, but no one tried to speak to her. Yesterday, Rurik had shown her the provisions tent, and she walked right to it.
It was huge, even bigger than Keegan’s.
The front section was filled with barrels and crates and casks sent from Castle Pählen.
Ignoring the front, Amelie walked around to the back of the tent. Before entering, she crouched and drew the dagger out of its sheath in her boot. She didn’t expect much trouble with this first visit, but still . . . it was better to be safe than sorry.