Infamous Reign (2 page)

"I thought you always spooked the horses," I commented as we shook hands.

"I've been learning to control it. I don't think I'll ever be able to ride one, but then I didn't before Soissons either, so that's not really a huge loss." He grinned. "How are you Nathaniel?"

"I'm good, thanks, Thomas." As much as I'd liked to have gone for a drink to catch up on his progress within Avalon, not to mention his evolving abilities, such pleasantries would have to wait until the current crisis was resolved. Thomas had been a werewolf for nearly seventy years. But that was nothing in terms of their life expectancy, and every time I'd seen him since his turning, I'd been surprised at new things he'd picked up. "I noticed you lounging in the courtyard when I glanced out of the Grand Hall’s window. Does anyone ever get curious about a large, grey wolf roaming the castle?"

"Oddly, no. A few of the guests have brought wolves with them as pets. Besides, very few people in the city of London would even know what a real wolf looked like."

"So, how has your time here treated you?"

"I never realized just how much gossip people discuss when they think there's no one around to hear it. The filth that goes on in that place." He waved dramatically to include the entire castle beside us. "It's a surprise anyone ever gets anything done with all the bed hopping and attempted seduction that goes on."

"And did any of that gossip manage to contain something useful?" I asked.

"All gossip is useful to the right person."

I chuckled. "You've spent far too much time with the SOA." The SOA, or Shield of Avalon, was Avalon’s internal security force. They were considered masters of subversion and information gathering, all in the name of keeping Avalon and its citizens safe. Or learning as much about those in positions of power around the world, including Avalon itself, to use for their own ends. It all depended on whom you asked.

"I guess my purpose here has ended. I assume you want me to go back to Avalon and report?"

I shook my head. "Did you get my note? I sent it a few weeks ago, after I'd learned about the princes’."

Thomas nodded. "You wanted me to start looking around to find out if anyone was planning anything against either the boys or the king. A lot of people here think Richard had them killed, or maybe Henry reached out from France to frame him. That's quite a popular theory, too. Some people change their minds on the subject, depending on whom they're talking to at the time."

"Any of them stand out?"

"One does. He was nobody before Richard took the throne, but recently he started to drop some very big names as friends. Buckingham being one of them."

"What's his name?"

"William Tate. He's a weasel of a man, even by the lords of London's quite low standards. I've caught wind of something he's involved in, but I'm not exactly sure of the details, something to do with jewels. He sent his wife and son away the day the two princes stopped appearing in public. He's currently having his way with a maid and likes to talk far too much after he's finished."

"Please don't tell me you had to—"

"Thankfully, no. The maid also likes to talk to a large, grey dog that roams the grounds. She finds him adorable."

"I'm beginning to think the truth of it is that this dog finds
himself
adorable," I said with a smile. One that Thomas returned.

"You're just jealous."

"So, where does this William Tate live?"

"I'll take you, it isn't far. Maybe an hour or so."

"No, meet me there by dusk. I need you to bring someone with you."

"Okay, who?"

"Are there any changelings in the city?"

Thomas's smile broadened. "Master Garrett, you, sir, have a devious mind."

"Says Mr. Carpenter, the spy for Avalon."

"I never said I disapproved," Thomas said with a laugh. He then gave me directions to William Tate's house and set off on the errand I'd given him.

Once Thomas had left, I found my horse and was soon riding through the streets of London. It wasn't a pastime I enjoyed, although the fact that it was still daylight meant that at least no one tried to attack me. Unfortunately, it also meant that I could see the state of the city itself. Rats, some huge and vicious, ran freely through the streets spreading disease among the vast number of people who lived and worked here. The plague had eradicated a substantial number of the city’s inhabitants over a hundred years ago, and, although London was, once again, a rapidly growing city, the threat of the plague's re-emergence was always a concern.

However, the growing number of humans, all with their own needs and desires, meant there was money to be made. And living amongst them were people who would profit from their misery. No matter what else happened in London, no matter the war and death, there was always one constant; there would be those who profited.

Despite the danger that the nighttime in London brought with it, I wasn't concerned about my friend Thomas living there. I doubted there’d be any trouble he couldn't take care of. In fact, if he did have trouble, there would probably be less pick-pockets or thugs to prey on the rest of the city.

Chapter
3

Lord Tate's property sat at the far end of the wealthy district in London, a place where the streets were maintained regularly and the owners all had at least two servants. I led the horse to the front door, where another horse was hitched, and climbed down, just as the door opened and a haggard-looking man rushed out.

"Lord Tate?" I questioned, as he hastily attached a bag to the horse’s saddle.

"I don't know who you are, but I'm a very busy man, so please leave at once."

I walked toward the clearly nervous man. "I'm not here for fun, Lord Tate. We need to talk about Buckingham and the two princes."

His already pasty skin whitened further. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed to stammer.

"There are a plethora of lies you could have told me about your involvement, but everyone in the country knows about those two boys, so unless you’re currently living under a rock, maybe you'd like to try again."

"I told you to leave," he snapped.

"Last chance."

Lord Tate whirled on me. "I said—"

I hit him in the stomach hard enough to bring him to his knees as he fought for the breath that had fled his body. I removed the bag from his saddle and carried both it and Lord Tate back into his house.

I'd expected many things from his living space, most especially opulence and grandeur of the kind you get from people who like to pretend they're more powerful and influential then they really are. Maybe even a few stuffed animals that he would brag about while throwing overly lavish parties, telling his guests that he’d killed them with his bare hands.

What I didn't expect were a dead maid and butler.

The latter was leaning up against the far wall, opposite the front door. He appeared to have just sat down, except for blood soaking through the front of his clothes. The maid was just visible in the hallway. She’d been stabbed repeatedly; her entire body was covered in blood, as were the floor and walls all around her.

I saw all of this before I’d even closed the front door and dropped the bag on the floor. I threw Lord Tate into the hallway, where he landed in the pool of blood surrounding the murdered maid’s body. He quickly scrambled away, as if it were the first time he'd seen her.

"Are you afraid of your own handiwork?" I enquired, picking the bag up and walking toward a room at the rear of the house, the open door showing it to be a study. Tate tried to scamper away, but I used a little wind magic, wrapping it around his leg, making sure he couldn't buck or twist free as I dragged him behind me. I dropped him by his desk before pushing the piles of paperwork and books that adorned the top of the desk onto the floor with an almighty crash.

"When I upend this bag onto your desk, what am I going to find?"

"Nothing of your concern," he said far too quickly.

"I swear, if this is what I think it is I'm going to be very angry." I placed one foot on his knee and pushed down, causing him to yell out. "And an angry me, would be very bad for your life expectancy."

The bag did not contain what I assumed it would. I was expecting correspondence between Tate and King Richard’s enemies. Maybe some money or jewels that could be used to buy their support after Tate fled the city. But what clattered onto the wooden desk top were the two crowns, the smaller spinning slightly before I stopped it with my hand.

"Tate. Why are there two crowns in your bag?" I lifted the smaller crown, a plain gold piece that would have been used for a young prince. The second, and larger, one had red velvet covering the centre. There were very few jewels on the crown, certainly nowhere near the number that adorned the crown of the current king of England.

"You cannot touch them," he said. "They cannot be sullied by your hand."

He moved to take them from the table, but I kicked him back to the floor. "Tate, I’ve been looking for a way to use some of this anger that’s been building up inside me since I arrived in London. For your sake, you really don’t want to be the person I decide to take out my annoyance out on. So I’ll ask again. What and who are these crowns for?"

I already knew the answer to my question, but I wanted it confirmed. I knew once the words left his lips I would kill him right there and then. I was begging for an excuse to put the sniveling little shit out of his misery. Unfortunately, Tate remained silent.

The momentary respite gained by his silence was just enough for me to calm down to a point where I wasn’t going to kill him outright. Instead, I grabbed him from the floor and threw him roughly into the chair on the opposite side of the table. "These are for Edward and his brother, yes?"

Tate nodded. "Richard's crown is tainted. We need a new crown for the true king. The prince's should match it in design."

"You were taking these to Buckingham."

He nodded again.

"He has the boys?"

Another nod.

"Where is he?"

This time Tate just stared at the crowns and didn't move.

"Tate, where is Buckingham?"

"Richard is an impostor. Edward is our rightful king. I am doing the right thing for this country."

"Really? Why kill the butler and maid?"

He actually had the decency to look ashamed. "The maid and I were having an affair."

"Are you going to tell me her name?"

Tate shook his head again. "You don't need to know it."

I accepted his desire to keep it to himself. "So, why kill her?"

"She found out about the crowns and was going to tell people she knew at court. We would have been stopped. So she had to be silenced."

"And the butler?"

"He wasn't meant to be here today. He was upstairs when I killed her, and he surprised me. Then he died too." His words were said softly, the shock of what he'd done was beginning to set in, but I couldn't let that shock get in the way of the answers I needed.

"So, where are Buckingham and the boys?" I asked, hoping to get his attention onto more immediate matters.

"I won't tell you."

I removed a small silver dagger from the rear of my belt and laid it on the desk. "Yes, Tate, you will."

"You won't stop them. Our rightful king will be placed on the throne of England."

I shook my head. "You’re either naive or stupid. The princes will be taken to France, assuming they're still alive, and Henry will use their names to come over here and fight Richard. At some point, there will be a terrible accident and the boys will die, leaving Henry to be king. The boys are just being used to further Buckingham and his allies' aims. They will no more sit on the throne of England, than I will."

Tate didn't want to believe me. He was clearly desperate to believe that he was helping Edward and his brother, but my words had triggered the one dangerous thing in a mind that's been made-up, doubt. Tate had probably never before considered the scenario I’d painted for him, but the second he let that possibility in, it began to fester. Unfortunately, I didn't have time for Tate to decide whether or not he wanted to help.

I grasped his hand and forced it onto the table as I picked up the dagger. I was about to plunge it through his hand, when the front door opened. "Nathaniel," Thomas called out.

"We're back here," I told him and released the lord's hand.

A moment later Thomas and a second man entered the room. The newcomer was tall and thin, with an almost bald head and a short, dark beard, which had been meticulously trimmed. There was nothing about him that would call attention to the fact that he was anything other than human.

"This is Raulf," Thomas said. "Raulf, this is Nathaniel."

"A pleasure to meet you, my lord," Raulf said, and we shook hands.

"Nathaniel will do, I'm no one's lord." I turned back to Tate. "However, this murderous bastard
is
a lord, although not for very long."

"Why are they here?" Tate demanded. "I don't care how many you bring, I will say nothing."

"Well, Tate," I told him with a slight sigh. "I don't actually need you to say anything. Raulf here is going to get all of the information we need."

Tate stared at Raulf for several seconds. "I don't see how."

"Ah, well, you see, Raulf here is a Changeling."

Tate gave me a blank stare.

"Apart from weres like my friend Thomas over there…"

Thomas smiled and Tate flinched. Werewolves have that effect sometimes.

"As I was saying,” I continued, “apart from weres there are several species in the world who can change their appearance. The three most common of these are Shaman, who can turn into several different types of animals, shape shifters, who can change their own physiology as they see fit, and changelings who can become other people."

The import of this information dawned on Tate very quickly. "You're going to replace me with him."

I nodded.

"No one will believe he's me!"

"Actually they will," I corrected. "Because, you see, when changelings become someone else, they absorb their memories and traits along with their physical appearance. Raulf will, for all intents and purposes,
be
you in every single way that matters. He'll still retain his own personality and independent thought, but your memories and life will be right there with him. He'll actually be a better you. He won't cheat on his wife or murder staff members because he was too stupid not to get caught in a treasonous plot. By the way, it was good of you to send your wife and child away, we’d have had a much harder time arranging this if they were here."