Free A Man Betrayed by J. V. Jones Page B

quite
ridiculous getting angry while only half-dressed. He settled for an indignant
snort and hurriedly donned one of his fur-lined robes.
    In the wake of
restored dignity came anger. "What in Borc's name are you doing
here?" he demanded. "Leave my tent this instant."
    "Or
else?" Baralis didn't bother to look up. He was intent upon choosing a
piece of dried fruit.
    Maybor hated the
cool arrogance of the man. "Come, now, Baralis. Is your memory so short
that you can't recall how handy I am with a sword?"
    "My memory is
faultless, Maybor. However I don't perceive an old man with a sword to be much
of a threat."
    Old man! Maybor
was prevented from issuing a scathing reply by the arrival of the messenger.
The young man had changed his clothes and shaven his beard.
    "I am pleased
to find you both here," he said tactfully. "Yes, it was good of Lord
Maybor to offer his tent for this meeting," said Baralis. "Would you
care for some refreshment?"
    Maybor did not
like this one bit. Baralis was acting like a benevolent host, and by doing so
was giving the messenger the idea that he was in charge. Maybor decided to play
the king's chancellor at his own game.
    "Seeing as
you are playing mother, Baralis, pour me a glass of wine and slice me some
venison." He watched with glee as Baralis was obliged to comply with his
request.
    "Such thin
slices. I can see you have no taste for red meat." Baralis handed the
platter to him. The meat was tough, but the look of indignation on Baralis'
face was tenderizer enough.
    "So, tell me,
young man. What are you called?" Maybor was not going to allow Baralis to
take the lead again.
    "My name is
Durvil, sir." The young man looked nervous. The undercurrent of hostility
in the tent had not gone unnoticed.
    "Well,
Durvil. Tell me the exact manner of the king's death."
    "He died in
his sleep, my lord. A most peaceful death by all accounts. He was found by the
Master of the Bath in the morning. He was already stiff and cold."
    "Was the
Master of the Bath present in the king's chamber all through the night?"
asked Baralis.
    "The Master
of the Bath sleeps in a room just off the king's chamber, my lord."
    "Foul play
wasn't suspected?"
    "No, Lord
Baralis. No one could gain access to the king's chamber without being spotted
by the royal guard."
    "But still,
the Master of the Bath was asleep all night?"
    "Yes."
    Maybor wondered
why Baralis was so concerned with the possibility of foul play. The king had
been a doddering, slavering invalid for over five years now; it was no surprise
that he had finally done the decent thing and dropped dead. "Exactly how
many days ago did this happen?" he asked. "A week after you left,
sir."
    "So the king
has been dead almost three weeks, then?"
    "Yes,
sir."
    "How did the
queen take the news?" asked Baralis. Maybor was rankled; the king's
chancellor was asking better questions than he.
    "The queen
was most distressed. She locked herself up with the body and would not let
anyone tend to it for over a day. In the end, the king had to order that she be
taken away by force."
    The king. It was a
shock to hear it: Kylock now a king. "Is the queen well? She is not being
held?" Baralis again, always rooting deeper.
    "No, sir. The
king would not do such a thing to his mother." There was indignation in
the messenger's words. "already the new king was commanding a measure of
loyalty. The day I left, His Majesty was bidding her a fond farewell."
    "Farewell?"
    "Yes. The
queen elected to leave the court and retire to her castle in the
Northlands."
    "Does it not
strike you as strange that a woman, no longer young, would risk her health by
embarking on such a long journey in the frozen grip of winter?"
    Maybor had to
admit that Baralis had a point there.
    "No, sir.
Kylock assured the court that it was what she wanted. He sent a handsome
detachment of the royal guard to escort her."
    "Hmm."
Baralis allowed this skeptical syllable to hang in the air a moment before
saying, "And' what of Kylock? Does he