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Trying to contain his excitement, Hanoree paced the length of the royal throne room. All his plans were working. The assassin’s work was done, his own death accomplished, and his body disposed of.
“There is nothing to lead this back to me,” he said aloud to the empty room.
He longed to wear the Imperial Crown. His imagination spun fantasies where he led the Empire through a time of terrible grief before humbly assuming his rightful place as emperor. To make these dreams a reality, he planned to leak information tying the deaths of the emperor and empress to the Temple Order. He would launch a crusade to lead the Empire to victory over its enemies.
A soft chime announced a visitor to the royal chamber. Hanoree rose from the throne and drew his face into a somber expression. “Enter.” He relaxed when his most trusted aide, Lord Varick, entered.
With uncustomary curtness, Varick dismissed the servants who followed him into the royal chamber. When they were alone he handed Hanoree a small slip of paper.
He opened it and frowned at the single name written there: Madama Ector. “What is this? Who is Madama Ector?” He hated it when Varick played these guessing games.
“Madama Ector is an expensive mistress of dumas, my lord.” Varick paused. “My sources report the empress employed her services. There is or will be an heir.”
Hanoree inhaled sharply. It tested his will not to fall to the floor screaming. After the first flush of shock, rage began to fill him. Nothing would stand between him and the throne. “Does anyone else know?”
“No, my lord, the Empress Cynthy was very discrete. I have Madama Ector’s name, but not the name of the dumas.”
“Bring me this Madama Ector and secure all the women in her care. I will have this woman and her child.” Hanoree slammed his fist onto the table. “Go!”
He knew Varick was loyal, but the tiny smile on his lips told Hanoree the man enjoyed his small moments of power too much. It would be easy to deal with him once he located this Madama Ector and her women.
Hanoree tried to maintain his composure as he prepared to greet the Nobles who formed the council that would decide if he was worthy of the throne. The Council of Nobles never ruled against the hereditary succession, but he did not want to risk offending them. It would be disastrous for any of the Nobles to learn of his interest in Madama Ector.
~ * ~
Six hired men, dressed in uniform, filed up the steps of Madama Ector’s fine house. Lord Varick was leading them, although no one would have recognized him in the robes of a Priest of Elden. He knocked on the door, and when the housekeeper opened it he could tell something was amiss. The woman was almost hysterical, her eyes were red from weeping.
“You’ve come,” she said between sobs. “She’s in there.”
The place was too quiet. Varick followed the housekeeper to the door of what appeared to the Mistress’s receiving room. Madama Ector’s body lay on the floor, a note clutched in her hand. Remains of a large fire smoldered in the fireplace. He rolled the body over, and her sightless eyes stared up at him. He smelled the odor of poison. Lord Hanoree would be furious with him.
Varick glared at the housekeeper and demanded, “Where are the women?”
The housekeeper scrubbed her face with her hands. “Gone. Madama sent them away two days ago. Dismissed the servants too, except me and the cook. I knew she was upset but none of us expected this.” She burst into a torrent of sobs.
He motioned toward his men, and they hurried through the house, searching for anything to identify the women who lived there. The rooms were empty; even the beds were stripped for washing.
“Where are the women?” roared Varick.
“Gone, Master. Madama paid them and sent them home. Told them to have their children and live in peace.”
“Where are the records?” He glanced at the smoldering ashes in the fireplace with a sickening realization of failure.
Hanoree would have his head for this. The drawers of the desk were open and contained nothing. The housekeeper was being held by one of the men.
Varick raised a hand and slapped her across the face. “How many women were staying here? I need names.”
“Names, yes sir, I can give you names. There were twenty girls, and a lively bunch they were.” She described the girls.
“Last names too. There must be thousands of women called Renalla in the Empire.”
“Oh Master, Madama Ector was very strict about names. The women were known only by their first names, and none spoke about where they were from. Our clients were very important. They wanted things kept confidential. If you want the last names of the girls, I can’t help you.”
Varick was an intelligent man. He realized this woman was telling the truth, and if he tried to beat information from her it would without a doubt be false. He decided to use a different tactic. Smoothing his face into amiability, he motioned for the housekeeper to have a seat.
“I am afraid your mistress has been involved in something dangerous. We are with Imperial security. We need your help in locating the women who lived under Madama’s care. They may be in danger.”
The housekeeper straightened. “Yes sir, I’ll do what I can. I am a loyal citizen.”
He patted her shoulder. He brought a pad of paper and pen to the table. “You’re a smart woman; you will be fine. Write down everything you remember about each one, describing anything you think will help us identify these women: their appearance, how old they are, what did they sound like? Did you notice an accent?”
“Oh, I can help you. I took care of those girls myself. I knew them better than anyone here.” The housekeeper seemed to unwind as she listed the women, stopping every few to count.
The guards removed the body and sent away the local police.
“There were twenty women staying at the hostel,” the housekeeper said. “Do you want the names of the ones who have birthed their babies?”
“Not now, I will let you know later. I want you to know you are doing a good thing, and there will be a reward.” He placed a hundred-credit chip on the table but kept his hand on it.
The housekeeper bent with renewed vigor to her task. Soon she handed him four pages, neatly written, describing each woman living at Madama’s.
“Thank you, mistress.” Varick smiled and motioned for his men to get going. “Tell me, has there been anyone else here in the last few days? A visitor Madama met with you didn’t recognize?”
The housekeeper pursed her lips for a bit. “No, she stayed in her office alone. I thought she was having personal problems.”
“We are leaving now, but I will be back. If you remember anything at all...”
“Oh yes, sir. I would do anything to help you find those poor girls and make sure they are safe,” she answered, walking with Varick to the door.
~ * ~
The grief of Lord Hanoree appeared genuine. His tear-stained face was on every communications port as Ninallia watched the daily newsfeeds. It would be simple to go to see such an honorable man and explain.
She spotted the housekeeper at a small eatery with outside tables. She took a seat a nearby and eavesdropped, hoping it would be possible to return to Madama Ector’s. Soon the housekeeper was joined by a woman Ninallia recognized as one of the women who worked in the kitchen. Both women were haggard and upset.
“I can’t believe it. Madama would not kill herself. Why would she kill herself? She was a wealthy woman. I won’t believe it.” The cook wiped her eyes.
“I saw the note myself, and it was in her handwriting,” the housekeeper said. She glanced around and lowered her voice to say, “Why do they want to know about Madama’s girls? She sent the girls away and burned the records. Imperial officers have been asking questions. What can I say? I am the housekeeper. I never saw any of the files. Madama handled them personally.”
“I don’t know,” the cook answered. “Maybe one of the girls was into something bad. Maybe Madama was involved in something illegal.”
“I won’t believe it. Madama Ector was a good woman. She treated those girls well. I never heard of one complaint, not one.”
Ninallia hid her shaking hands under the table and pretended to study the menu. She suppressed a squeak as the waitress’s approach startled her.
“I’ll have white ale, eggs, and bread.” Remembering she was passing as a boy, she added, “Can you bring a big slice of honey cake?”
The housekeeper and cook continued to talk, but she stopped listening. Tears wanted to pour down her face, but she fought them back. Madama was dead. Had she killed herself or been murdered by someone trying to find the emperor’s unborn child?
A sudden fear came over her. What if the Imperial Soldiers discover who I am? Would they find mother and Aunt Rese and kill them? I must warn them.
After finishing her meal, she made her way to the old neighborhood. No one she knew appeared to recognize the boy walking down the cobbled street as Ninallia. She drew near and noticed there were no curtains in her aunt’s window. She circled the building and climbed the back steps with a mounting sense of dread. It was empty. Her mother and aunt were both gone. Heart pounding, she raced back down.
~ * ~
Lord Hanoree stormed around his meeting chamber. He was furious that he could not interrogate Madama Ector, but her suicide confirmed his fear that a true heir to the emperor would be born. How did the empress manage that coup without anyone in his network learning of it?
“Here, drink this my lord.” Varick handed him a glass of wine.
Hanoree sipped the wine, confident that Varick added the correct amount of sedative.
“From what this housekeeper reports, the first of the possible babies won’t be born for months. By my own calculations, the earliest the royal heir could be born is five or six months off. Three women can be eliminated from the list.” Hanoree began to feel the effects of the drug and smiled. Varick knows when I need something to unwind. I should give him a minister’s position when I ascend the throne. He shook his head. But, it’s too bad I have to kill the man. Loyalty like his should be rewarded.
“We don’t have the time or luxury to wait until the baby is born and have the child tested,” Varick commented. “It would be better to track down these twenty women and kill them, all of them.”
Hanoree agreed. It would be so. In the back of his mind he began to doubt himself about Varick’s fate. Perhaps he did not need to be killed. He was brilliant, ruthless, and a loyal aide.
Hanoree shook himself. Varick knew too much. Knowledge gave him power over his master and that could not be tolerated. Soon, he would deal with the man. Soon.