The Jester: Dead Ends (2)
Episode 19: A Rough Morning
Mardans woke to heavy pounding on his door. The evening before, he and Red had performed to enthusiastic acclaim in the Great Hall, and afterward, he had pulled a shift with the palace guard that extended into the wee hours of the morning. It was no wonder that he struggled to come fully awake.
At first, he thought a squad of booted soldiers was running past his door, then his brain sputtered to life. He revised his guess to one soldier banging a gauntleted fist against a door. His door. Which he should answer. Now.
“Coming!” he shouted in a dry, strangled, still-sleepy voice that the infernal pounder probably heard as a weird croak. He cleared his throat. “Coming!” The second try was much improved. He donned a robe and opened the door.
He did not see a soldier with boots or a gauntleted fist but Lirens ready to pound on the door again. The prince shoved it open wider to let himself in and closed it firmly behind him.
“Morning, brother,” he said in a subdued voice that was quite unlike him. He peered at him closely. “Late night?”
Mardans yawned as he nodded. “Guard duty,” he finally got out, ruffling his hair while he padded over to sit in a chair. He yawned again. “What brings you here so blasted early?”
“It’s not so early,” Lirens said with a wan smile. “It’s halfway till noon, and I’m afraid you’ll have to put that uniform back on for duty.”
That comment cleared the cobwebs from Mardans’ brain. “Duty? What’s going on?” He was already up and pouring water from a pitcher into a basin to wash his face and hands. His uniform lay where he had flung it over the back of a chair just before collapsing into bed too few hours before. His boots sprawled nearby.
“There has been an incident in the palace,” Lirens said in a measured voice. He hesitated before continuing. “A death.” The prince cleared his throat. “Just after dawn, a pair of your guards stumbled across a body. He reported it to Captain Arius, who then informed Alfons, who called me to the scene. He immediately sent me to get you. Nothing has been touched. I don’t want to tell you more. Alfons wants you to see it for yourself and reach your own conclusions.”
“Do we know the victim?” Mardans asked, putting on a clean shirt.
“A serving girl, a maid, I’m not sure,” Lirens answered, still flirting with shock. “She is somehow connected to Mother’s service. That’s all I know.”
“How is your mother?” Mardans asked, buttoning his pants. They were wrinkled but would have to do.
“I don’t know,” the prince replied. “When I left the king, she had yet to be informed.” He cleared his throat again, tight with stress. For all his strength and military bearing, his was a tender soul.
Mardans pulled on his boots and tugged his lieutenant’s hat over his messy hair. He swished a mouthful of water around his mouth and pronounced himself ready to go.
Lirens took him through the basement to another, more public door, then to the kitchens, where they snagged rolls and meat for a quick breakfast on the move. Mardans expected to go to the servants’ quarters or the Dowager Queen’s suite, but the prince led them through a private hallway on the ground floor instead. It led to a luxuriously decorated room set up for private meetings in a relaxed but opulent setting.
“This, if you don’t remember,” Lirens said in a low voice, “is the King’s Antechamber. Through there,” he pointed straight ahead, “is the Throne Room.”
“Why are we here?” Mardans asked, confused.
“Because the body’s in there,” the prince answered, pointing in the same direction. “Are you ready to see it? Start investigating?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” he said with false cheer.
“I doubt it,” Lirens muttered grimly and opened the far door.
They stepped into a square, curtained space only a few yards wide. The far curtain had been drawn aside, revealing the back of the throne, a massive black-and-white onyx chair draped in Margonni purple velvet high on a stepped dais. Gold pillows lay strewn around it as if thrown or swept aside hurriedly.
Mardans’ attention was immediately caught by the sight of a young woman’s head drooping backward from the right-hand armrest and small, delicate feet dangling over the left. A pool of blood had collected on the floor below the poor girl’s head. The air carried the metallic scent of it.
“For the love of the Shepherd,” Mardans breathed. He rarely uttered oaths, but at this sight, he could not help himself.
“It gets worse, I’m afraid,” Lirens said somberly. To avoid the pool of blood, he led Mardans around the left side and up the steps of the dais. They saw the king standing on the floor in front of the throne with Captain Arius and a young guard, whom Mardans assumed to be the one who discovered the body as he made a routine sweep through the throne room. The brothers nodded to each other in greeting.
The king called, “Lieutenant, make a thorough inspection, but be quick, please. I’d like the young lady removed to the crypt as soon as possible. I wish no one else to see this scene.”
“Yes, sire,” Mardans answered with a bow. Before turning to the body, he did his best to shut down all emotion, donning the role of investigator like a second skin. Taking a deep breath, he told himself, Just do the job. You can react later.
Someone had lit the lamps closest to the throne, washing the area in a warm light that did nothing to thaw the deathly pallor of the girl’s face. Scrutinizing the entire area around the throne, Mardans looked for anything that might have been dropped, a hair, a scuff mark—anything—but there was nothing but the blood to mar its surface. He presumed the cleaning crew took pride in keeping the dais spotless.
He could avoid the body no longer. Starting at her feet, he noted everything he could see without touching her or her clothing. The feet, as he had categorized at once as small and delicate, were bare; no hosiery, socks, or shoes were to be found. Her black dress was identical to what the palace’s serving women wore, and its hem was slightly too short and showed signs of wear.
Whoever had placed her on the throne had taken the time to arrange her hands, right atop left, over her upper abdomen. Under them, her once-white blouse was suffused with drying blood. The thrust of a knife just below her breastbone had been the killing blow. Smears of blood on the arms of her blouse indicated her killer had wiped his knife there.
Mardans finally steeled himself to look at her face. She had been pretty, probably vivacious, but now her beauty was marred by cruel strokes of a knife around her mouth and ears. Her murderer had cut off both her ears, and a glance at the pool of blood below her head confirmed that her tongue was gone, too. Mardans shuddered and whispered a prayer to the Shepherd, asking for help to bring her killer to justice.
He joined the king and the others a moment later, visibly shaken. “You were right, Prince Lirens,” he said thickly. “I was not at all ready for that.”
“You’d have to be heartless not to be horrified that such a wicked thing could happen,” Alfons said. “Especially here, in our home.”
Mardans nodded firmly. “I’m going to find out who did this, and I hope you extend no mercy, my lord.”
“Oh, he will get what he deserves,” Alfons agreed, a hardness to his face that Mardans had never seen. “To the fullest extent of the law. No one, no matter how highborn, can flout our morality so egregiously and not expect swift and just retribution.” He beckoned a guard with dirty blond hair forward. “Guardsman Rayan, tell Lieutenant Tinetta what you told me earlier. He may have some questions after.”
“Yes, sire,” the young man said with a short bow. He turned and nodded a greeting to Mardans. “It’s been a rough morning, Lieutenant. My squad replaced yours, as you know. Right about dawn, my partner, Nekhar, and I conducted a sweep through this section. The Throne Room is the last chamber we normally check. We came through the Antechamber and knew something was wrong right away: All of the lamps around the throne had been lit. Usually, it’s just two near the throne and two at the main doors. From the other end, it sure looked like whoever did this was making a show of it. It was eerie.
“Anyway, we touched nothing, as we’ve been trained,” he continued. “I left Nekhar here and ran to tell the Captain, who sent me back while he informed the king. I came back here to stand guard while Nekhar left to finish our rounds.”
Mardans nodded. “When you see Nekhar, send him to me. I’ll need his recollections, too. Tell me, Rayan, were the curtains behind the throne open when you came through? Is that normal?”
The guard did not have to remember. “They were open, which we noticed immediately because that is not normal. They are supposed to be kept closed. Even when the king goes through after presiding over the Court, they are only pulled back to let him pass, never drawn.”
“Thank you, Ray,” Mardans said. “Do you remember anything else, no matter how small, that struck you as odd or different than usual?”
“Well,” Rayan said, toying with his short goatee as he thought. “It may just be that everything was so shocking, and all my senses were at full attention, but I thought the girl, her cuts, the blood—everything—seemed fresh. Like it just happened. I’d like to say that the murderer had left just minutes before we got here. I can’t swear to it, but that’s just how it felt.”
Mardans thought briefly before saying, “I think that’s all for now, Ray. If you remember something later, no matter how small, let me know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Arius cleared his throat. “Get some rest, Ray, if you can.”
“Yes, sir,” Rayan said and left the Throne Room by the main doors.
Once he was gone, the king asked, “What are your impressions, Lieutenant?”
Mardans took a long moment to reply, organizing his thoughts. “Well, my lord, again, we have little direct evidence: nothing left behind, no murder weapon, no eyewitnesses. But, if this is connected to the theft, and we must assume it is, we have confirmation of a pattern: open curtains, extra light, a posed body—on your very throne, no less—and severed ears and tongue. The rogue thinks he’s clever, likes to put on a show, and enjoys taunting you with messages.”
“What message has he sent with this poor girl’s death?” Lirens asked. “He tells me plainly he’s a monster!” His face shone red with anger.
“He is that,” Mardans agreed. “But his message is for the king. Yes, he’s saying that he is ruthless, but he’s telling the king that he wants the throne and will kill even innocents for it—and the king bears the blame for their deaths. He has literally laid her lifeless body on a prime public symbol of his sovereignty. The open curtain and multiple lights show he is flamboyant but, even more, that he is proud of his work and wants to show it off. He delights in it, and he has little fear of the consequences. He is getting bolder and more reckless. We can hope he soon makes a mistake.”
“What about the ears and tongue?” Arius asked, combing over his hair with his fingers. He, too, had been roused from bed at looked disheveled. “What’s he trying to say by cutting them off?”
“That’s easy enough,” Alfons answered. “Ears are a person’s instrument of hearing, and a tongue represents speech. I would say he’s telling me that this poor wretch heard something she should not have, and he killed her before she could pass it on. Had she seen something, I daresay he would have left her eyeballs in that pool of blood.”
Mardans nodded. “I agree, your Majesty. It’s a warning that he’ll do the same cruel torture to anyone who gets too close or knows too much.”
“So, he’s trying to make us afraid to come after him,” Lirens said, still fuming. His hand clutched and unclutched the hilt of his sword. “That’s not happening!”
The king laid a hand on his brother’s arm. “We will bring him to the ground, Lir, but right now, we need to be methodical. The murderer seems smart enough to avoid giving us any tangible clues, so we must be smarter.” Lirens nodded, visibly calming, clasping his hands behind his back.
Alfons turned to the captain of the guard. “Arius, bring the Court Physician here and a couple of trustworthy orderlies or guards to move the poor girl to his surgery or down to the crypt, wherever he deems best. She must be covered, and they should avoid public areas or heavily traveled hallways. Tell him I desire a complete examination of her body and a detailed report of his findings as soon as possible. No detail is too insignificant.
“Before you leave,” he continued, making eye contact with each of them, “there are two other things. First, keep her death as secret as possible for now and minimize it if people inquire about it. Second, let us each return to his own quarters and write down what we saw and our impressions. Give them to Captain Arius no later than this afternoon. From now on, we will take copious notes on every step of this investigation. Tinetta, I want notes of all your activities and findings in that file, too.”
“Yes, lord,” Mardans said. “I have been keeping a journal. I will have it copied and deposited with the captain before the end of tomorrow.”
“Good,” the king said. He sighed. “Stay here with the body until the captain returns with the Court Physician. We will put guards on the main doors and the Antechamber door. No one comes into the Throne Room without the express permission of one of us. Am I clear?”
“Yes, lord!” the three said in unison.
“Good. Let’s catch this Devil’s spawn.”
A note:
As one might expect, King Alfons did not want to use the throne upon which the young woman’s body had been lain, considering it her final resting place. He had it removed and pulverized, and the resulting stone dust strewn over the waters of Crane Lake below Palisade. Along with all new pillows and cushions, he had a new, all-white marble throne crafted in a similar style to the original.
What a horrific turn of events! Mardans needs to hurry and catch this thief/murderer before he strikes again!