‘I know. He and I spoke of it last night, but he was in no mood to listen.’
‘A shocking incident,’ said Omri. ‘Why did they do it? What did they have to gain?’
‘They had nothing to gain. They were sent by Vanis.’
‘That is disgraceful,’ said Omri. ‘We must inform the watch officer. You should lay charges against him.’
That will not be necessary,’ said Waylander. ‘I do not doubt that Lord Aric has a plan to resolve the situation.’
‘Ah, I see. A plan that no doubt involves money.’
‘No doubt.’
They moved on in silence, emerging into a wide, arched hallway on the upper floor.
As they reached the doors of carved oak Omri stepped back. ‘I have to say, sir,’ he said, in a low voice, ‘that I am not comfortable in the presence of this magicker. There is something about the man that I find disturbing.’
‘You are a good judge of character, Omri. I shall bear that in mind.’
Waylander pushed open the doors and entered the Oak Room.
The room, panelled with oak, had been designed in the shape of an octagon. Rare weapons from many nations hung on the walls, a battleaxe and several hunting bows from Vagria, spears and curved scimitars from Ventria. Angostin broadswords, daggers and shields vied with tulwars, lances, pikes and several embossed crossbows. Four armour trees had been placed around the room, boasting ornate helms, breastplates and shields. The furniture consisted of twelve deep chairs and three cushion-covered couches, set upon a scattering of Chiatze rugs of hand-dyed silk. The room was lit by sunlight streaming through the high-arched, east-facing windows.
Lord Aric was seated on a couch below the window, his booted feet resting on a low table. Opposite him was the magicker, Eldicar Manushan, his blond page standing beside him. Neither man rose as Waylander entered, but Aric waved his hand and gave a broad smile. ‘Good morning, my friend,’ he called. ‘I am so glad you could find time to join us.’
‘You are up early, Lord Aric,’ said Waylander. ‘I have always been led to believe it was considered uncivilized for a noble to rise before noon – unless a hunt was in the offing.’
‘Indeed so,’ agreed Aric, ‘but, then, we have pressing matters to discuss.’
Waylander sat down and stretched out his legs. The door opened and Omri entered, bearing a tray on which was set a large silver pot of tisane and three cups. The men sat in silence as he filled the cups then departed. Way-lander sipped the brew. It was camomile sweetened with mint and a little honey. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste upon his tongue. Then he glanced at Aric. The slim noble was doing his best to appear at ease, but there was an underlying tension in him. Transferring his gaze to the black-bearded magicker, Waylander saw no sign of unease. Eldicar Manushan was drinking his tisane quietly, apparently lost in thought. Waylander caught the eye of the little blond boy, who smiled nervously.
The silence grew, and Waylander made no attempt to disturb it.
‘Last night was most unfortunate,’ said Aric at last. ‘The two boys were well liked and neither of them had ever been in any kind of trouble.’
Waylander waited.
‘Parellis – the blond boy – is … was a second cousin to the Duke. In fact, I understand that the Duke had agreed to stand alongside Parellis at his wedding. It is one of the reasons the Duke decided to bring the Winter Court to Carlis. You see the complications that are beginning to arise.’
‘No,’ said Waylander.
Aric seemed momentarily bewildered. Then he forced a smile. ‘You have killed a relative of the ruler of Kydor.’
‘I killed two assassins. Is this against the law in Carlis?’
‘No, of course not, my friend. As to the first killing there were hundreds of witnesses. No problems there. But the second. . . . Well,’ he said, spreading his hands, ‘no one saw that. It is my understanding that there was only one weapon – a ceremonial sword belonging to Parellis. This would indicate you dispossessed him of that weapon and killed him with it. That being so, it could be argued that you killed an unarmed man, which, according to the law, is murder.’