Inversions

Feulecharo sat in a seat while his wound was cleaned and inspected. Adlain looked closely at the injury. 'That certainly looks to me like it might knock a fellow out for a moment or two,' he said. 'You would agree, Doctor?'

'Yes,' she said.

'And when you woke up, what was there to be seen then?' Polchiek asked Feulecharo.

'Sir, I could hear the commotion in the room and people crying out. There was nobody else in the corridor where I was. I was very dizzy and went to the privy to be sick, then I went to find the Duchess, and that was when I heard that the Duke had been murdered.'

Adlain and Polchiek exchanged looks. 'You did not sense anybody behind you when you were hit?' Adlain asked.

'No, sir,' Feulecharo said, wincing as the Doctor dabbed some spirit wine on his wound. 'I was concentrating too sorely on the mirror.'

'This mirror…' Polchiek began.

'It is here, sir. I had the presence of mind to retrieve it before I made my way to the privy.' Feulecharo dug into a pocket and pulled out a coin-sized piece of highly polished metal. He handed it to Polchiek, who passed it round the other men.

'Is the Duchess Walen a particularly jealous woman, would you say, Feulecharo?' Adlain asked, turning the small mirror over in his fingers.

'Not especially so, sir,' Feulecharo said. He sounded awkward, though that may just have been because the Doctor was holding his head forward while she completed the cleaning of his wound.

'You have told us everything of the truth, have you not, Feulecharo?' the King asked gravely.

Feulecharo looked at him as best he could with his head still bent forward by the Doctor. 'Oh, yes, your majesty.'

'When you were hit, Feulecharo,' the Doctor said, letting go of his head, 'did you fall against the door, or to the floor?'

Quettil made a tutting noise. Feulecharo thought for a moment. 'I woke up resting against the door, ma'am,' he said, then looked at Adlain and, the others.

'So if somebody had opened the door into the room,' the Doctor said, 'you would have fallen in too.'

'I suppose I would have, ma'am. I would have required being put back into the same position after it had been closed again.'

'You are hiding nothing from us, young man?' Quettil asked.

Feulecharo seemed to be about to speak, but then hesitated. I had thought him more intelligent than that, but perhaps the blow to his head had addled his brains.

'What?' the King said sternly.

'Your majesty, sirs,' Feulecharo said in a dry, strainedsounding voice. 'The Duchess thought the Duke might be seeing the young lady here. That was what exercised her jealousy. She would not have minded so much, perhaps not have minded at all if she had known it was only to… to watch others.' Feulecharo looked round the men in the room, avoiding my eyes and the Doctor's. 'Why, she would have laughed to have known what was going on in here, sirs. No more. And there is nobody she would trust more than me. I know her, sirs. She would not cause such a thing to be done.' He licked his lips and swallowed hard again, then looked despondently at the mound of table cloth covering the body of the Duke.

Quettil opened his mouth to say something, but the King, watching Adlain and Polchiek, said, 'Thank you, Feulecharo.'

'I think Feulecharo should stay here, sir,' Adlain said to the King. 'Guard Commander Polchiek might send men to his quarters to search for a weapon, or the missing key for the door.' The King nodded, and Polchiek spoke to some of the servant-guards. 'Perhaps,' Adlain added, 'the Guard Commander would open the door again and we'll see if young Feulecharo left any blood there.'

The guards went off to search Feulecharo's room. Polchiek and Adlain returned to the door.

The King looked at the Doctor and smiled. 'Thank you for all your help, Vosill,' he said, with a nod. 'That will be all.'

'Sir,' the Doctor said.

I heard later that they looked all through the Duchess' apartment as well as Feulecharo's. Nothing was found. Some blood was discovered on the outer surface of the door into the corridor, and on the floor beneath. A good part of the rest of the palace was searched soon afterwards for the murder weapon, but it was never discovered. The missing key turned up, innocently enough as far as could be told, in the key cabinet of the palace seneschal.

Master, I knew Feulecharo and did not think him capable of the killing of the Duke. The King may have been overly lenient in not allowing the two lovers Droythir and Uoljeval to be put to the question by Ralinge (though I believe both were shown the chamber and had the instruments of excruciation explained to them), but I do not believe any further truthful information would or could have been extracted from them.

Polchiek might have preferred that a scapegoat was found, and Quettil fumed and raged in private for moons afterwards, they say, but apart from taking one of Polchiek's two small estates away from him, he could do no more. Polchiek had filled the ball with extra guards and by all accounts done all he could to ensure that nothing untoward occurred.

Feulecharo was lucky, I think, that he was the third son of one of Walen's more wealthy barons. Had he been of more lowly birth, instead of just two sickly brothers away from a not inconsiderable title, he might have found himself enjoying the hospitality of Master Ralinge himself. As it was, it was generally accepted that his good family name made it almost unthinkable that he could have had anything more to do with the murder of the Duke than he had claimed.

16. THE BODYGUARD

'I wish I could go too, Mr DeWar. Can't you ask my father? He thinks you're clever.'

DeWar looked embarrassed. Perrund smiled indulgently at him. From his pulpit the chief eunuch Stike looked down, fat and frowning. DeWar wore riding boots. He carried a hat, and a heavy black cape lay folded over the couch at his side next to a pair of saddle bags. The Protector had decided it was time to take personal command of the faltering war in Ladenscion.

'You're better off here, Lattens,' DeWar told the boy, and reached out to ruffle his red-blond hair. 'You have to get well. Being ill is like being attacked, you see? Your body is like a great fortress that has been besieged by invaders. You've repelled them, you've seen them off, but you have to be good, and marshal your forces and rebuild the walls, refurbish your catapults, clean your cannons, restock your armouries. Do you see? Only if your father feels that great fortress is going to be all right can he leave it to go and fight the war. So that is your duty. To keep getting better. To get well.

'Of course your father would rather stay here with you if he could, but he's like a father to all his men, too, you see? They need his help and guidance. So he has to go to them. You must stay, and help your father win the war by getting better, by repairing the great fortress. It is your duty, as a soldier. Do you think you can do that?'

Lattens looked down at the cushions he sat upon. Perrund patted his curls back into place again. He played with a loose thread of gold at the corner of a cushion. 'Yes,' he said in a small voice, not looking up. 'But I really would like to go with you and Father, really I would.' He looked up at DeWar. 'Are you sure I can't come?'

'I'm afraid so,' DeWar said quietly.

The boy sighed heavily and looked down again. DeWar smiled at Perrund, who was looking at Lattens.

'Oh,' Perrund said. 'Come, sir. Is this the General Lattens who won so well at catapults? You must do your duty, General. Your father will be back before too long. And Mr DeWar.' She smiled at DeWar.

'For all we know,' DeWar said, 'the war may be ended by the time we get there. That is sometimes the way with wars.' He fiddled with his big, waxed hat, then set it aside on his dark cape. He cleared his throat. 'Did I tell you about when Sechroom and Hiliti parted? When Sechroom went off to become a missionary?'

Lattens seemed not to hear for a moment, but then he rolled over on his side and stopped humming and said,