Chapter 19

 

 

The streets were empty. The smell of smoke hung in the air, catching in his throat until he climbed the hill into fresher air.

Bushes had overgrown the spot, but he still recognized it, even in the dark. On his left, a dirt path diverged from the main gravel one and led to a small graveyard. Ahead stood the huge willow that guarded the resting place of Marshland’s greatest heroes.

William froze, his senses alert. A lantern, at full brightness, stood on a gravestone.

His father’s gravestone.

A voice spoke behind him, colder than the night air. “I thought you might come here, Willie.” Kirby emerged from the darkness behind the giant willow.

Fighting the instinct to retreat, William stood his ground and stared back at the shadowed face, knowing his own was fully exposed—a disadvantage of course, but the glint of steel reminded him that Kirby had his sword, so it hardly mattered. Still, he couldn’t show weakness. “What are you doing here, Kirby?” he asked with a growl.

As Kirby walked into the light it unveiled his gleeful smile. “I told you—I was hoping you’d come here. Just like the old days. Isn’t this fun?”

William fought the urge to retch. “For you, maybe. What’s with the lantern?”

“I wanted to see your face.”

“Why?”

“Because I have so much to tell you, and I’m sure your reaction will amuse me. Physical pain isn’t all I enjoy, Willie Whitehands.”

William laughed. “No one’s called me that in years, Kirby. You’ll have to do better if you want to hurt me.”

Kirby ran his hand along the blade in a long, slow caress. “Maybe you don’t want to challenge me to try harder, hmm?”

William’s skin crawled at the sound of his voice. He stifled his fear, willing himself to focus. “What’s your part in all this, Kirby? How does someone like you get mixed up in what seems like a rebellion of all things? Even if this was just a complicated theft, why are you involved? You’re a horrible person, but you aren’t a thief. Or have you widened your horizons?”

His grin widened as he continued to approach William. “I stole your sword, didn’t I? But you’re right—simple theft does nothing for me. Where’s the joy when you can’t savor your victim’s pain? No, I was brought here for a different purpose.”

“What’s that?”

Kirby tapped William’s chest. “You.”

William stared back at the grinning face. He hated to give him the satisfaction, but he had to know. “What do you mean, me?”

“What I mean is, you are the central character in all this. You suspected as much, didn’t you? And I must say, you played your part to perfection.”

“Stop being cryptic, Kirby,” said William, his impatience getting the better of him. “What on Esper do you mean, my part?”

Kirby chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Everyone thinks Lord Willie is a celebrity, an adventurer, the hero of a dozen books. To me, you’re simply predictable. I played you like a puppet for years, and now I’ve done it again. I’ll admit it took a little longer this time, though.”

William gritted his teeth, but kept his hands relaxed by his sides, not wanting to show any emotion. “I hope you start making sense soon, because this is getting boring.”

Kirby pouted at William, mocking him. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we? Well, you’ll know soon enough anyway, so I may as well tell you. Yes, this was a theft. A brilliant one, by a brilliant mind—and don’t bother asking who; I won’t tell you. My first task was to sabotage your barony, to hurt you monetarily. You and that agent of yours gamble so much it made my job pitifully easy. A little poison in the feed, salt water on crops, fences broken to start fights—that sort of thing.”

“And let me guess: you also arranged for the millstone to fall.”

Kirby roared with laughter. “No, you fools managed that one on your own. I tell you, I was bored from lack of things to do. My job was to push you to the edge of financial ruin—not shove you over it. So, I entertained myself with the local wildlife.”

Bile rose in his throat, and he forced it back down with a hard swallow. “Yes, I found the results. Disturbing, even for you.”

Kirby pouted again. “Some people don’t appreciate art. Anyway, I must have done enough, because you did exactly what you were supposed to: run to the earl for help. I admit, the world of lordly finance is new to me, but you were right on schedule.”

“Whose schedule?”

“Ours. I wish I could have seen your face when Alred showed up at your door demanding your taxes, though. You have no idea how funny you look with your fists all bunched up—like now.”

William did his best to relax without looking like he was responding to Kirby’s comment. “You sent Alred?”

Kirby shook his head in amused exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening? I told you, I’m not in charge. But I knew it was happening, and I knew how you’d react. Sure enough, you ran to Marshland and couldn’t find anyone you know, because we jailed them or sent them away. When Bird told us about your wedding plans…well, we couldn’t resist. Didn’t you wonder how you beat them back so easily? Did you really believe a bunch of unarmed villagers could defeat three dozen armed guards? You fell into our trap, Willie, and ran straight into my arms.”

William shrugged, despite the doubt clouding his mind. “I broke free, didn’t I?”

“Saving me a lot of work,” said Kirby with a grin. “I never wanted you dead. I just wanted you to suffer a little, like the good old days. So now Faywater sends all its guards to deal with our little rebellion, only to find we’re all gone.”

“Except you.”

Kirby nodded slowly, as though he expected William to understand. “Yes. Except me.”

William shook his head in confusion. “I don’t get it, Kirby. You could be long gone by now. Is it so important to kill me before you escape?”

“Oh, I have no plans to escape,” denied Kirby. “Like I told you, I wanted to see your face when you got the final news.”

“Well, you’ve seen it. I hope you’re happy now. Just tell me one thing: was Oz involved in any of this?”

Kirby spat in disgust. “That fat fool. I heard about your little love affair with him. A butler’s job is way too good for him.”

“None of this adds up, Kirby. You’ve had your fun, you don’t intend to kill me, and you don’t want to escape. So why are you still here? You could run away and have more ‘fun’, as you call it. Stay here, and you’ll die in prison.”

Kirby shook his head, his face completely serious. “Believe me, I will never see the inside of a prison. I have the ultimate defense.”

“I don’t suppose you want to share the details?”

“Oh, but I do.” Kirby stepped back into the lantern light. To William’s surprise he began undressing, removing his coat, and then his shirt.

William gaped at the sight. A mass of weeping pustules covered the right side of Kirby’s stomach and chest. “King’s blisters…what on Esper is that?”

“Cancer,” said Kirby with a rueful smile. “Spread from somewhere inside. Doctor told me where, but honestly, I forget. I even enjoyed the pain for a while, but masochism is less fun than sadism, and I’ve had my fill of it now. I’ve spent the last few months making sure I stayed alive long enough for this moment, and not a second longer.” He lifted William’s sword and gazed at it, drawing his hand along the edge in admiration. “Ah, the things I could have done with this…” He shook his head sadly and reached into a pocket, removing a small vial, which he held up to the light. “This little pill will solve all my problems, but I have a final message for you first. Of all the officials we dealt with here, your friend Cairns was the most fun.”

William’s heart pounded. Only the sword in Kirby’s hand prevented him from rushing forward. “What did you do to him, you sick freak?”

The subtle pleasure Kirby had displayed now emerged in full, a look of pure ecstasy spreading across his face. “Remember that display I left in your woods? That’s nothing compared to what you’ll find in the Library basement.”

William was torn. He wanted nothing more than to strangle Kirby, to wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze the life from him. But he couldn’t risk it, whether or not Kirby knew how to use a sword. Another part of him wanted to find Cairns, even if it was too late to save him, but leaving Kirby to go free after his monstrous confession offended every sense of right and wrong.

“That’s what I’ve waited for,” said Kirby with a satisfied smile. “That’s the pain I’ve wanted to see on your face for all these years. Disgust, rage, conflict…all there in one beautiful image. The perfect ending.” He tossed the pill into his mouth and swallowed. “Good bye, Willie. Thanks for playing along.”

William froze with horror as Kirby’s face began to change. It started with mere discomfort, and quickly deepened into agony, followed by a look of unexpected shock. A choking sound escaped his lips as they swelled, and his hands clutched at his throat as he gasped for air. Slowly, with immense effort, Kirby lowered his hands and faced William, locking eyes with him. William recognized the look, though it was hidden within the agony.

Exultation. Kirby was enjoying this. William stared, rooted to the spot, uncertain what to do or even if anything could be done. Kirby slumped to his knees, bathed in the lantern’s glow, landing on Orren Whitehall’s grave. With his last effort, he lay on the grave, face to the sky. He convulsed for several seconds, but remained in place, his eyes fixated on William. Wheezing breaths filled the night air, less frequent as time passed, pink froth forming on his swollen lips. With a great rattling heave of his chest, Kirby breathed once more, and fell silent.

William’s mind reeled. The knowledge that he’d been targeted not only by his childhood nemesis but also his unknown commander, combined with an unexpected suicide on top of his father’s grave, left him numb, unable to move or even think. Eventually, he bent over the body and retrieved his sword, carefully removing the scabbard from the belt as well. He then dragged the body to the path where the guards could handle it without trampling the burial grounds.

Distant voices from below startled him back to reality. Taking confidence from his recovered sword, he raced up the hill to reach the Library before anyone else, heedless of any possible remaining danger. He found no one at the top, neither rebel nor guard, and no sign of any missing officials, either. The giant Library door loomed before him, warning him of the terrible sight that lay behind it. He gripped his sword hilt and entered, unwilling to let anyone else discover Cairns’ body.

Cairns’ office was abandoned, dust covering the few items on his old employer’s desk. He found a lantern and lit it with shaking hands. The remaining offices on the upper floor were empty as well, including the one he’d occupied himself years before. His knees trembled as he descended the stairs to the basement, unsure of what he would find. He tried the official records room first, finding the door unlocked. With great trepidation, he opened it slowly—and found nothing. Next was the display room, where the ancient Marshall Ibycus book was kept, but he passed it by, not knowing where Cairns kept the key.

That left the map room. The door was secured with a makeshift bar across the outside, which he gently lifted from its brackets and set aside. The door creaked as he pulled it open, and he held his breath as he prepared himself for whatever grisly sight that waited behind it.

“Oh, hello William!”

He nearly dropped the lantern in surprise. “Lester! What…how…but you’re supposed to be…”

Cairns gave him a matter-of-fact look. “Dead? No, but I’m glad you found me when you did. All this time alone, and I could have been working, but your old friend wouldn’t leave me so much as a candle. He said you’d be the one to find me. Is this nonsense finally over?”

“I hope so,” said William as he helped Lester to his feet. “He told me you’d be…that he’d…”

The old man patted his shoulder. “I’m sure he told you all sorts of horrible things, William. I’ve known people like him. The best you can do is not react to what they say, even if you believe it. Did he get away with all the others?”

William shook his head. “He took his own life. Advanced cancer. He said he’d stayed alive to finish this…whatever ‘this’ was.”

Cairns shook his head in surprise. “Well, I suspect few will miss him. Do me a favor and look in my desk for the display room key, would you? It’s in a hidden compartment under the top drawer. I need to find out if they stole the book.”

He rushed upstairs, found the key, and brought it back to the basement. It had been at least three years since he’d last visited the display room, but he remembered to keep the lantern outside, and adjusted the giant silver mirror to reflect the light toward the display case. Cairns took William’s elbow, and together they approached. They both let out huge sighs of relief as the book came into view. “I still get chills when I see this,” said William.

“That feeling never fades,” said Cairns with a gentle smile. “Not even after thirty years. Help me upstairs, William. They gave me food and water, but the cold has seeped into my joints, and I don’t think I can make it on my own.”

William lit the brazier as soon as he got Cairns settled into his office and set a kettle of water to boil for tea. “Are you in much pain?”

Cairns grimaced and laughed at the same time. “At my age, pain is a constant companion. Nothing a couple of pills and a glass of wine won’t soothe, but I can wait. Tell me everything that’s happened.”

He looked at Cairns with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want me to find Maya and ask her to examine you? They may not have hurt you, but you’ve had a rough time.”

“I’ve been imprisoned for the better part of a month, William. My curiosity needs more attention than my old bones do. Tell me everything.”

William related Alred’s demand for taxes, the attack on his barony that followed, and his attempts to find someone to vouch for his marriage license. He described his capture and escape, and followed with the fire and the confrontation with Kirby. Cairns listened in near complete silence, interjecting only once, asking him to describe the pigeon keeper. He nodded, and William continued until he reached the present time. “The Faywater guards are probably running a sweep through the administration buildings right now,” he concluded.

Cairns heaved a great sigh. “So not only am I behind on my work, I also missed your wedding,” he said. “I hope no one aside from this Kirby fellow lost their lives over this business.”

“Clyde—that’s the dragon I’m fostering—killed a rebel back at the barony. But what happened to you? No one knew where you went.”

Cairns took a long sip of tea. “I’m afraid my story isn’t as exciting as yours. A pet dragon, you say? I suppose I’ll have to see him for myself. You lead an interesting life, William, but I do hope those books haven’t annoyed you too much.” He smiled at William’s frown and continued. “Anyway, I started noticing changes a few months ago, as early as Arrival Day. Earl Bradford’s clerks were replaced one by one, and the guards on duty became less recognizable every week. I asked Earl Bradford about it during one of our weekly poker games, but he shrugged it off, saying experienced clerks are inevitably offered rich promotions. So long as Jeffrey remained, he wasn’t worried. Sir Hendrick said the same thing was happening with his guards, but he was happy as long as they sent replacements. In fact, he said his contingent was increasing monthly, and with a growing population two new recruits are worth more than a single veteran.”

“Only if they’re loyal,” said William, unable to hide his disgust at Sir Hendrick’s blindness to a rebellion within his own barracks.

“You mustn’t blame the man,” said Cairns. “An officer has to trust the people above him or the system won’t work. Someone in Faywater sent him bad people, and the same happened with the earl’s staff. About three weeks ago—probably around the same day Alred appeared at your doorstep—the earl ordered Sir Hendrick to personally lead an extended patrol. I know the captain questioned the orders, at least privately, because he told me so before he left. But he followed his orders, unwittingly taking the only remaining honest guards with him. When they locked me in the basement, I guessed someone was trying to control Earl Bradford and turn him into a puppet. Marshland isn’t a large town, but a lot of wealth flows through here from Rebel Falls to Faywater Port. The hand that controls that flow wields a lot of power.”

“But now it looks like they were only targeting this spring’s tax collection,” said William. “Unless I’m mistaken, all the rebels are already gone. Isn’t that quicker and less risky than milking the town for months or years?”

Cairns shook his head. “I’ve seen every tax report since I moved to Marshland Crossing, and even with the recent growth a single tax collection doesn’t justify such an effort. It may be a fortune to you—it certainly is to a lowly town official like myself—but for the size and complexity of the operation, it’s not a big enough prize.”

A knot formed in William’s stomach. “So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying something doesn’t add up. Where are the deductive skills you used to uncover Kaleb Antony’s rebel group? I can’t believe you don’t have the same nagging doubts I do.”

William nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. Everything about this has felt…strange. I simply didn’t realize why until now. Do you think this was more than mere robbery?”

Cairns leaned forward, his eyes bright with intensity. “Guard officers were involved in this, William, at a high enough level that nearly all of Marshland’s entire force was replaced with criminals while no one noticed. Likewise the earl’s clerks. This was planned and executed over a long time and in great secrecy. The tax money of one town—even Marshland Crossing’s—is probably less than they spent to execute their plan.”

“Maybe they thought it would be more?” suggested William.

“Pour me another tea, will you?” said Cairns as he handed his cup to William. “No, whoever planned this crime would know better. There’s another angle to this we aren’t seeing.”

William jumped at the sound of the front door opening. His hand flew to his sword as boots clomped across the wooden floor outside Cairns’ office.

“Hi, Lester,” said Rachel as she came into view. “Figured you’d be here, Will. Tell Jack I won the bet, would you?”

William exhaled in relief. “Is everything over?”

Rachel nodded, her face grim. “They found the earl. He’s called a meeting. And he wants you in it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Lester, appearing confused. “Does he want me or William?”

“Both of you,” she said. “Immediately.”