The brothers found the Verus’ small, tidy cottage with little trouble after being pointed down a shady lane by a friendly and obviously thunderstruck young woman who never dreamed she would encounter Prince Lirens on her way to the market. Built close to the street, the green house with white trim sat on a knoll, offering a partial view of the northern gate and the Angeva Road stretching into the distance alongside the river. Most of its property lay behind the house, featuring a huge garden and a small outbuilding that could stable a horse and little more.
Tying their horses to the split-rail fence, the brothers mounted the steps to the wide front porch, which boasted a few rocking chairs and a swing to take advantage of the view. Lirens rapped on the door, which opened a moment later, revealing a heavyset matron wearing a yellow apron over a flowered housedress. Her hair, pulled back from her face into a bun, sat under a white bonnet, which did not contain the wisps of light-brown hair that fell over her brow.
“Good afternoon!” the prince said, smiling. “Are you Mrs. Verus?” After she nodded, he continued, “I’m Prince Lirens Ankara, and this is Lieutenant Sam Tinetta of the Palace Guard.”
Mrs. Verus curtsied. “Welcome to our home, Prince Lirens, Lieutenant. I expected someone to call on me about Prytan eventually, but never the prince himself! Is my husband well?”
“We don’t know, Mrs. Verus,” Mardans answered gravely. “We haven’t seen him since Formosis went into hiding.”
“I see,” she said. She looked down at her rough hands, which were clutched tightly together. They seemed incapable of relaxing despite her efforts. Finally regaining some control, she looked up, saying with false cheer, “Where are my manners? And to a prince! Please come inside. I can at least quench your thirst.” She opened the door wide, and they entered a small parlor containing a couch and a couple of chairs facing a cold fireplace.
Motioning them to have a seat, she bustled through into the kitchen. Looking around, the prince and Mardans were surprised to find the interior finished by someone who obviously loved woodworking. White oak planks, smooth and polished, covered both the walls and the floor, and the mantle and all the furniture appeared to have been handmade, joined expertly, and finished with oil and wax to last.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Verus returned with a tray bearing a pitcher of water and glasses. “The water from our well is cool, not cold, but it’ll slake your thirst.”
The brothers thanked her as she poured each a glass and handed it to them. “We were just admiring your home, Mrs. Verus,” Mardans said after taking a long, welcome drink. “Did your husband do the work himself?”
“Yes, he did,” she said, smiling and sitting on the couch between them in the two chairs. “He’s a master craftsman with wood. I don’t know how many times I asked him to retire from service and take on woodworking jobs, but he always refused. Now he’s probably wishing he had listened to me, for once.”
“Mrs. Verus, did he ever talk about his work to you, especially recently?” Mardans asked. “For instance, did he ever mention a safe house or hiding place that Formosis would go in the event of trouble? Or give you instructions about what to do if he was gone for a long time?”
“Please, call me Adel,” she said with a dip of her head. “Yes and no. I mean, the last few months, he has griped about things far more than usual but told me very few details. He complained about Lord Formosis every time he was home. I remember he said he was ‘playing a dangerous game’ and ‘acting the fool.’ He said, ‘He’s going to get us all hanged if he’s not careful.’ But, no, he told me nothing about a hiding place or what to do if he was long away. I wish he had.”
“Adel,” Lirens said, leaning forward, “others have told us that your husband didn’t approve of Formosis’ actions, especially after things turned violent. Did he say anything—anything at all—about what Formosis was doing?”
“No, not really,” she answered, shaking her head. “Like I said, not specifics. He just said he was trying to stay out of it, and he shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place.”
“Do you recall what started him complaining?” Mardans asked.
She reflected for a few moments, her eyes and mind far away. Finally, she said, “I can tell you it began about two months ago. He came home about noontime, which was odd because he never comes home during the day unless he’s sick. But he wasn’t sick. He was angry, though, and muttering something about Lord Formosis making him take all the risks. He didn’t stay long, not even to eat lunch. He made it seem like he’d forgotten something, but I didn’t see him come in. But I know for certain he didn’t take anything from the house.”
“What do you think he was doing?” Mardans prodded gently, seeing she was reluctant to say more.
Adel swallowed, looking at them with guilty eyes, her hands clutching one another again. “I think he was hiding something,” she said at last, her voice tense. “Like I said, I didn’t see him come in, so I can’t say if he brought anything with him, but that’s the impression I had at the time.” At this, Lirens, who had sat back to listen, sat straighter.
“Have you looked for what he may have hidden?” Mardans pressed, though speaking lightly.
The guilty look reappeared. “Of course,” she answered. “What wife wouldn’t? His return home was so unusual—not to mention his strange manner—it made me curious. But I never found anything.”
“Do you recall where he went in the house that day?” Mardans ventured, hoping to narrow a search to just a few rooms. “It may be a long shot, but that visit could be crucial to our investigation.”
She nodded several times, hope springing into her eyes. “I’m almost certain he went into our bedroom.”
“Would you allow the prince and I to see it?” he asked. “We will touch nothing without your permission.”
Nodding again, she said, “Follow me.” She stood and entered a short hallway, off of which two doors led to bedrooms, the first of which was decorated for a young girl. The second room, the couple’s bedroom, featured a wider bed covered by a beautiful quilt of blue, green, and yellow fabrics. An ornately carved cedar chest sat at its foot, and a dresser and a wardrobe crafted from the same wood stood against the far wall. Like the rest of the house, the room was neat and tidy, reflecting its mistress. “I’ve checked the furniture many times,” she said upon entering. “I even took all the drawers out of the dresser but found nothing.”
“I assume your husband made all these things,” Mardans said, receiving a nod from Adel.
“Everything but the quilt,” she said with pride, running a hand over it. “Sewing is my talent.” She smiled wistfully. “He bought this house before we were wed and spent all his spare time getting it ready for me. He made everything in here between our engagement and our wedding.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she sat on the cedar chest, wiping them with her apron.
Lirens patted her shoulder. “We’re sorry for causing you distress, Adel. I can tell our visit has been trying for you.”
Mardans walked studiously along the walls, looking carefully high and low, examining the craftsmanship of the joinery. “Your husband has amazing skills. I could never do work as fine as this. The joints are so consistent.” Then he stopped, having reached the bed’s headboard on the far side of the room. “Tell me, Adel, is this your husband’s side of the bed?”
“Why, yes!” she said, eyes widening. “How did you figure that?”
He beckoned Lirens to join him. “Because, to me, it is logical to think that Captain Verus would hide his valuables near him while he slept so he could guard them or get to them quickly in an emergency.”
“Valuables?” she asked, baffled. “What valuables?”
Mardans did not answer her. “Prince Lirens, I believe you should press here—if we have your permission, ma’am.” He pointed to a spot where the polish had slightly worn away compared to the surrounding wood. Adel nodded, still perplexed.
The prince did as his brother requested, and the wood yielded slightly under his finger, producing a faint snick in the silence. Withdrawing his hand, the panel sprang back about an inch. Lirens opened it fully, swinging the panel out on well-oiled hinges, revealing a tall, narrow cavity in the wall. Reaching inside, he pulled out a black bundle of cloth tied with leather thongs on both ends, the top one of which he hastened to unbind. The cloth fell away, displaying a shining steel hilt wrapped in fine black leather and adorned on pommel and crossbar with dark purple gemstones.
“We found it!” Lirens cried, grinning. “We found Margonne’s dagger!”
A note:
It later came out that Prytan Verus was not protecting his honor but the reputation of a beloved member of the Tilanta family, Lady Talissa, daughter of the third Steward, Telassar. Several years into her marriage, she became pregnant while her husband was on extended deployment with his regiment. Not wanting the family associated with even a hint of scandal, the Steward at the time, Antares, Talissa’s uncle, employed the then-young-but-quite-competent Prytan to ensure it never came to light, a task he performed with meticulous care. However, Formosis, always digging for dirt on those around him, somehow learned of his captain’s earlier clandestine activities and threatened to reveal the true parentage of Talissa’s illegitimate child. Loyal to a fault, Prytan considered keeping the Tilanta family secret a sacred trust, so he risked execution for treason to keep it hidden.