Columbo Queen
Obed led the way back to our quarters, silent as always, his back an unbreachable wall. The Fury churned within me, but I wouldn't get any answers out of the soldier until he was ready to give them. He ushered me through the door, then closed and locked it behind us.
I turned and reached for his arm, intending to grill him by tap-code and to hell with the spy-screen. The soldier, however, backed away and wordlessly pulled his sword from its sheath. "Obed," I snapped, "what are you doing?" Still silent, he raised the weapon over his head. There must be someone or something behind me that posed a threat, I thought, restraining myself from looking around. Just then the blade swung toward my head.
I ducked barely in time to avoid decapitation. "Obed!" I screamed, scrambling backward on my hands and knees, "what the hell are you doing?" Of all the people from whom Analendra expected betrayal, this man was the last. But the soldier came on, silent, impassive, deadly earnest. Again the blade came down, this time taking a chunk out of the floorboards by my right hand. I made a desperate roll and ended up under the bed, safe for a moment, at least.
Obed grasped the bedpost in one meaty hand and pulled, but I had hold of the leg itself, and I was stronger than he. We wrestled a moment; then he let go and dropped to his knees, stabbing under the bed with his sword. I scrambled backwards, thankful that Nerian had given me a king-size bed and not a single.
If I hadn't been playing Queen -- and if I didn't know Obed better -- I would have burst through the mattress in Fury form and taken out my attacker with my dagger. But I had a role to play; and even if I hadn't promised Analendra not to kill anyone, I'd have hated to begin with Obed, no matter how he'd betrayed me ... or had he? Obed had knelt down to get a better view of me, and for the first time I noticed the glassiness of his eyes. His pupils, too, were oddly dilated; and his face seemed unnaturally rigid. He's been drugged, I realized with a shock. It must have happened during the evening meal.
I grabbed a wooden mattress support as Obed tried to lift the bed again, but the board broke off in my hand. Frantically I grabbed for another handhold, anything to keep the bed on the floor. The sword swiped past my nose, and then the bed came crashing down again, thumping me hard on the back of the head. I gritted my teeth and hung on.
If Obed had been drugged during the meal, I thought, it would have to have been a slow-acting hypnotic, something neither he nor I would have noticed as it took effect. But a hypnotic alone wouldn't make Obed want to kill me; someone still had to plant that suggestion in his mind. And when had Nerian or Minesa had the opportunity to do that? My mind raced as I ducked another sword-swipe. Replaying the events of the evening, I couldn't think of a single occasion when the Count or his mistress had spoken to Obed alone. Hell, they'd hardly spoken to him period. But someone had clearly gotten to him, and if not them, then who?
The dancers! I thought again of that fifteen seconds when my view of Obed had been obstructed -- deliberately, I realized now. It was the only time we'd been out of one another's sight. I should have known something was wrong when he didn't come to my aid on that platform. He'd already been under their spell, even before they gave him the command to kill me, but I'd been to incensed to analyze his acts.
Solving the mystery gave me a measure of satisfaction, but it didn't change the fact that I had a good friend, one who wasn't responsible for his actions, trying to take my life. I wondered if I could break his trance, and I wondered what I'd do with him if I couldn't.
"Obed," I shouted, "listen to me! You're not acting under your own volition; you've been drugged. You know you don't really want to kill me. Fight it, Obed, fight it!"
Whack! The sword fell again, this time on top of the bed. I heard wood splinter, and fine dust fell around my head.
"Obed, I know you can hear me -- "
Thunk! The sword drove straight through the mattress, burying itself in the floor mere inches from my face.
I'd have to try more drastic measures. Grabbing the broken board, I scooted out the back side of the bed and fetched up against the hated screen. Obed leapt on top of the mattress and swung at me more forcefully than before. I ducked again and, bracing my feet against the screen, shoved the bed as hard as I could.
It caught the soldier at knee level and he toppled on his face, head and sword-arm dangling off the edge of the mattress. I brought the flat edge of my own makeshift weapon down on his head. Obed lay motionless, but I gave his sword hand another blow, just for good measure, and winced at the resulting crack. I tried to tell myself I had no choice, that I couldn't risk him waking up and coming after me again, but it didn't make me feel any better.
As I dealt the second blow, I caught the sound of scrambling footsteps behind the screen: my watchers were running away. Come to watch the killing, eh? I thought. I'll deal with you in a minute. I flipped Obed on his back. Would an antidote for poison work on a non-lethal drug? I didn't know, but I had no choice except to try. Grabbing the tiny vial from my belt, I forced open Obed's mouth and poured the liquid down his throat. The soldier choked briefly, then swallowed. "Come on, come on," I urged, gently slapping his cheeks, but he made no other motion. Carefully I lifted his eyelid, but his stare was still fixed and glassy.
Meanwhile, the real assassins were getting farther out of reach by the second. Sighing, I grabbed the bodyguard's sword and turned back to the offending wall. It was going to give me real pleasure to smash that thing.
When I'd broken down enough of the screen to crawl through, I found myself in a dark, narrow corridor that ran the length of my bedroom wall then turned a corner out of sight. My watcher, or watchers, had already vanished; but when I paused to listen, I could still hear running footsteps, far off to the right and somewhat lower down. I followed the sound and soon found myself in a downward-sloping passage lit by squares of phosphorescent fungi, so regularly spaced that they must have been planted for just that purpose. I was glad enough for the light; it gave me an excuse for my ability to see in the dark -- no small blessing, considering my coming testimony. Damn, I hated that memory orb.
Passages branched off to my left and right, but the fungi continued only down the main corridor -- as the did the footsteps. I was gaining now, and could tell that there was only one person ahead of me. But who was it, and where was the other conspirator? I felt worse and worse about leaving Obed behind, but I knew he'd have counseled me to do just that. I was here to catch the bad guys, not to nursemaid an injured bodyguard. Besides, I thought, Obed could take care of himself.
The footsteps stopped.
I pulled up short, then crept forward more cautiously, gripping my sword hilt a little tighter. There was no telling whether my quarry knew I still followed, but I could always hope for the best. Just one more corner now, I thought, and cocked the sword behind my shoulder. I peered around the bend.
It was Minesa, crouched about ten yards away and facing the far wall. She seemed oblivious to my presence. An unlit torch lay beside her while she worked over what looked like a tinderbox. Fungal light not good enough for you, huh? I thought as I advanced across the open space. I brought the sword around, intending to press it up against her back and make her freeze.
Suddenly the floor dropped out from beneath me. Trap door, I realized as I plummeted into darkness, barely restraining the urge to fly. The real Analendra would only have been able to fall -- and fall about twenty feet, at that. As I hit, my left leg collapsed under me with a sickening crunch. I screamed.
"Queen Analendra, is that you?" Minesa's face appeared over the rim of the pit, framed in torchlight, eyes wide with feigned concern.
At least she didn't say, "Nice of you to drop in." "Minesa," I grated, rolling over on my back so that I could see her. My broken leg splayed out beside me, demanding that I allow my body to heal it. With an intense effort of will, I resisted. Damn this charade. "So you're my peeping Tom. I hope you enjoyed the latest performance, even if it didn't end the way you wanted."
The Forstener tried on a pout. "Oh, your majesty, such harsh language. I did so hope we could end this in a civil manner."
I'd had enough civility to last a lifetime. "Funny," I growled, "I've never thought of assassination as particularly civil."
Minesa's eyes darkened. "It can be -- and it can be quite painless, too. There was no need for you to suffer, majesty. If Yaris had done as we instructed, you'd be dead already."
I sucked in a breath. Careful now, Kyriel, I told myself. Reel her in slowly. "Yaris?" I asked, feigning incredulity. "What does he have to do with this?"
"He was going to poison you," Minesa shrugged, "but apparently he lost his nerve."
"I don't believe that. Yaris has always been one of my most trusted servants. He'd never betray me."
"Not for money, no. But for his daughter's life -- "
"What daughter?" Analendra had no memory of such a person.
"A bastard living here in Nerian's holdings. You mean he never told you?" Minesa feigned dismay. "And to think, the mother believed he planned to marry her."
From somewhere behind Minesa's back, I heard a faint step-shuffle: Obed, I prayed. Maybe he'd come around, and come to his senses. But I had to keep my captor distracted until he arrived. "And the peasant who tried to kill me in the hospital? What did you use to blackmail him?"
A lazy smile twisted Minesa's lips. "A slow-acting poison. We told him he'd only receive the antidote if he killed you. A lie, of course, but he couldn't afford to test us."
I pounced on that. "You said 'us.' So Nerian is involved?"
"Naturally!" She favored me with an airy little laugh. "You passed him in the tunnel awhile back, but I suppose you didn't see him. He'd slipped into one of the dark side-chambers. Ah, but I see he's caught up with us now." And she turned to greet her lover, who was, of course, the person I'd heard coming up behind her. The drag in his step, I realized now, was because he had a limp Obed slung over his shoulder.
"My Queen," Nerian sneered, bowing so deeply that Obed rolled off his shoulder. "Oops!" he laughed as the soldier slipped into my pit.
When he landed, I saw that his throat had been cut.
