I sighed. Later, I told myself. I would have time to delve her later, but my imagination conjured images of Chora’s death and the desperate passing of her gift.
The deaconess elbowed past me to go into the tiny room. When she came out, she was pale and sweating. “I didn’t know,” she panted. “I swear it. I had no idea that—”
“I think we should step outside,” I said over the woman’s fearful babbling. She darted looks at Bolt, as if she suspected he would take her head at any moment. “Gael, would you, Custos, and Rory take Mirren and the girls out to the yard? Bolt and I need to have a word with the deaconess.”
We retraced our steps to her office, and as the rest of our company departed, I pointed at the chair. “Sit.”
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked.
“That depends,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bolt staring in my direction. “I have something that needs doing, Deaconess, and it requires discretion—something you’re obviously acquainted with. I watched you go into Herregina’s room. You weren’t surprised by what you found there, were you?” I moved toward her, and she started to rise. I put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back into her seat. “No, don’t stand up.”
I reached for her neck, the skin smooth and unwrinkled despite the streaks of silver in her hair. A moment later, it was done and I knelt by her side. “Are you alright, Deaconess?”
“What happened?”
I looked at her. “You don’t remember?” When she shook her head, I went to the door and called to the pair of acolytes working by the roses. “The deaconess has had a spell that seems to have affected her memory. Please see to her.” I looked around the yard at everyone sweating in the sun. “I think it would be best if everyone took a respite from their labor for the rest of the day.”
I went back in. “We’ll be taking our leave, Deaconess. After a few days you should start to feel better.”
Outside, Bolt cut his gaze to me for a moment. “What did you do?”
“I reset her memories to just before the girls’ arrival.” I shrugged. “Some of them may come back, but even so, she won’t be sure of them.”
“Good,” he said. “I think a little doubt and humility will be good for the deaconess. Let’s gather the girls and get back to Cynestol. I want to get this over with. I didn’t really care for being the hero of the kingdom when I saved Chora, and I’m pretty sure I won’t enjoy having all the nobles fawn over us for finding her heir.”
I looked at the sky. Days were longer here in the south, and we probably had enough daylight to make a good start back to the city before sunset, but I shook my head. “Let’s find a comfortable inn, preferably one that has some decent ale. We need to talk.”
He grabbed my arm. “Willet, we have to deliver the heir—the queen—to Cynestol.”
I sighed. “Yes, and I’m sorry that we’re not going to be able to do that just yet.”
Chapter 45
The town of Locallia, two miles from the farm, boasted only one inn, but it had a porch that wrapped around three sides and an affable keeper who might have been Braben’s brother if he’d possessed light hair and skin to go with his blue eyes. He escorted us to a private dining room with laughter and jests, bobbing his head and smiling as though our presence honored him.
Bolt waited for me to take a pull from my tankard before he started speaking. I think he wanted to keep me from interrupting him. “We have to get her back to Cynestol.”
I nodded. Pieces of a puzzle had started to come together in my head, but I was still too close to it, and I needed to talk my way through my thoughts without being interrupted. I pointed to the room above us. “For now she and the servant girls are safe with Rory,” I said. “No one knows where they are, and anyone who tries to force their way in will regret it.”
He sighed. “What are you planning?”
“I need to talk to Pellin and the rest of the Vigil, but short of that, I need to know if my intuition is leading me in the right direction.” I clapped Custos on the shoulder. “I’m hoping you can help, my friend.”
“What did you see, Willet?” Gael asked.
“Something that doesn’t make sense,” I said. “We knew Bishop Gehata used the attack by the dwimor as a cover to kill the queen, but when I delved his memories the description of the assassin seemed wrong. He was big. Why, when smaller dwimor are much more effective?”
“We knew he was big,” Bolt said.
“Yes. What we didn’t know was that there were two of them. The woman slipped away when the guards came.” I looked at my companions. “She left.”
“Two of them,” Bolt said.
“Two assassins seems an unnecessary risk,” Mirren said.
Gael’s eyes widened. “They weren’t trying to kill her. They were trying to take her.”
“I came to the same conclusion,” I said.
“Maybe,” Bolt said. “Why would Cesla try to take the queen instead of killing her?”
I took a deep breath. “I need your help again, old friend,” I said to Custos. “There’s too much to unravel here. Can you tell me what happened when men first came north from the southern continent?”
He nodded, and the light within our room played off the dome of his head. “That’s a short question with a long answer, Willet.”
I smiled, sharing in the joy that danced in his eyes at the prospect of answering it, and pointed to a bowl of almond-crusted figs perched on the table in front of him. “If you run out, I will pay the keeper whatever it takes to get more.”
He took
