Free The City in the Lake by Rachel Neumeier Page A

he added, a little drily, “have someone bring me a clean shirt.”

    The King had a surprisingly tidy mind, but he had organized his study according to some principle that escaped the Bastard. The King’s servants clustered in a nervous knot on the far side of the suite while the Bastard went thoughtfully through the papers on his father’s desk. Questioning had yielded nothing from the servants that he had not already known.
    The captain, whose name was Galef, came into the King’s study quietly, with a fresh shirt over his own arm. He met the Bastard’s eyes with a wry expression.
    The Bastard changed his shirt. He gave the soiled one to a waiting servant and washed his hands in a basin held by another servant. Then he dismissed all the servants with a jerk of his head. When they were gone, he seated himself in his father’s chair and asked the guard captain, “How is the Queen?”
    “She is furious. But she is not throwing plates. She is thinking instead. She is afraid of you,” answered the captain directly. “Now she is also afraid of me.”
    The Bastard sighed, and leaned back in the chair. He asked after a moment, “And you? Are you afraid of me, Galef ?”
    “You rule now,” said the captain without blinking. He had been a professional guardsman for too long to show anything in his face. “That is your right.”
    “And if I killed the King, as the Queen accuses, and hid his body? If I caused the disappearance of my brother, the Prince?”
    “I have no evidence that leads to you, my lord.”
    Or I would act
was clearly the unspoken message under that statement. “But,” said the Bastard patiently, “do you
think
me guilty? In either case?”
    The captain looked the Bastard in the face. He said after an infinitesimal pause, “If you arranged the disappearance of the King in order to gain power in the City, or simply peace in this house, I would understand. I might believe that of you, Lord Neill. There is no evidence of your hand in this, but you are a subtle man. But I do not think you acted against your brother, the Prince. I could believe that you are ambitious. I could believe that you have been jealous. I know you can be ruthless. But whoever stole the Prince stole the very heart of the Kingdom, and could hardly fail to know it after this past summer. I do not think you are so cruel a man as that—my lord. So I will serve you.”
    This was rather more direct than any answer the Bastard had looked to find offered to his face, from the captain or any man. It was clear to the Bastard that the captain had had that little speech waiting. He thought he understood: Galef wanted to set everything between them in order if he could, so that he might be free to serve—if not the Bastard, at least the Kingdom. The captain was not, himself, lacking in subtlety.
    After a moment the Bastard let his mouth crook a little. He said in a level tone, “I will be glad to have your service. Where were your men last night, when the King disappeared from a room with only one door?”
    The captain answered scrupulously, “My men were on guard at that door, and they are good, responsible men. I oversaw them, and I questioned them. They are my men and I am sure of them.” He hesitated a little. “Do you then doubt me? Or them?”
    “I am sure we both doubt everyone,” said the Bastard. “Why should you be excepted?”
    The captain inclined his head with the sardonic air of a man well accustomed to the uncertainties of life. “I am loyal to the King. I swear you will have no cause to doubt my loyalty to you—if you did not yourself betray the trust of the Kingdom. As I think you did not. But if I find out such a truth, my lord, I will be your enemy. So,” he added, “we know where we stand.”
    “I don’t expect your trust,” acknowledged the Bastard, not offended, “until my father is found. Or better, the Prince. Nevertheless, I do expect your loyalty. Don’t move too quickly to make yourself my enemy,