the moistness and the smell.
‘It’s a page from the dock master’s book at Retribution Falls. You can see his name and title signed down there in the bottom corner,’ Frey told him.
‘I see it,’ said Drave. He turned the paper over. ‘I don’t see the Ketty Jay on here, though.’
‘We weren’t calling ourselves the Ketty Jay at the time. It would have been a bit stupid with half of Vardia trying to catch or kill us.’
‘How convenient!’ Grephen crowed.
‘I’m not showing it to you to prove I was there. The fact that you hold it in your hand is proof enough that I was there,’ Frey replied. ‘The name you should be looking at is the Moment of Silence. If you look up her records you’ll find she’s a craft registered to the Awakeners. The signature will also match the captain’s. She was the craft shuttling Awakener gold to Retribution Falls to finance the army.’
Grephen was becoming short of breath. ‘That . . . that piece of paper doesn’t prove anything! A forged piece of rubbish!’
There were many tales told about Kedmund Drave. Like all the Century Knights, he had his own kind of legend. One of the less unpleasant stories claimed that he could tell if a man was lying just by looking into his eyes. He looked now: a penetrating gaze, boring into the Duke.
Grephen backed off a step. ‘You’re going to take the word of a convict over that of a Duke?’
‘A Duke who still hasn’t told me why he’s attempting to execute these prisoners when he knows they should have gone to the Archduke for trial.’
‘This is ridiculous!’ Grephen cried, flailing. ‘I’m not answering to you! I don’t have to answer to anyone but the Archduke in my own duchy.’
‘We act for the Archduke,’ said Drave. ‘So you answer to me!’
‘Come on, Grephen!’ Frey jeered. ‘Tell him why you want me dead! Tell him about Orkmund and all your pirate friends!’
‘And you!’ Grephen cried, thrusting a shaky finger at him. ‘I’ve had quite enough out of you.’ He looked at the executioner, who was still standing on the podium, holding Frey’s cutlass. ‘Kill him!’ Grephen ordered.
Two lever-action shotguns spun out from beneath Samandra Bree’s long coat, and fixed on the executioner. ‘Raise that sword and you’re the first to die,’ she said.
The executioner stayed where he was, his gaze flicking between the Duke and the twin barrels aimed at his face. Frey was in no doubt which would prove most persuasive.
The Duke’s guards were stirring uneasily now. Their loyalty was to their Duke, and they didn’t like to see him bullied. Colden Grudge, sensing the tension, flung back his cloak to allow himself easy access to the double-bladed hand-axes hanging at his belt.
‘Your Grace, I think you had better come with me,’ said Drave, ‘until we can verify your innocence.’
‘You’re arresting me?’ Grephen gasped. He looked left and right, eyes bulging, a cornered animal searching for a way out. The elderly judge had already retreated, distancing himself from the Duke.
‘Your Grace!’ Thade snapped, seeing the panic on his companion’s face. ‘Calm yourself!’
‘I’m requesting the pleasure of your company on the Archduke’s behalf,’ Drake insisted steadily. ‘You won’t be locked up. We just need to be sure you aren’t going anywhere.
