Chapter 27
Olly
The solar table was piled high with documents.
Ash’s eyes were drifting across a ledger, but Olly was sure he wasn’t actually reading the words on the page.
Olly was secretly glad that such dull pursuits did not fall to him: his position by the fire, with Agnes at his side and his lute in his hands, was far preferable.
It was low, hiding from Agnes’s family, but given the circumstances Olly thought that he would have done the same.
He was attempting to pen something new. Agnes had been brought into the endeavour, valiantly providing rhymes when Olly’s memory fogged.
They were not, in truth, producing anything of much merit, but the endeavour was certainly enjoyable: especially when Ash emerged from whichever document he was reading to suggest something crude.
He was muddling over a tricky chord when there was a knock at the door. All three of them startled at the noise, and it was Olly who reached the door first. Standing outside was a nervous-looking servant girl. She peered around Olly towards Ash.
‘Sorry to intrude, my Lord, but there is a man at the gates asking after you.’
Ash frowned. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No, my Lord,’ said the girl. ‘No one recognises him.’
‘Did he say what it is he wants?’
‘He said he needed to speak to you, and he mentioned that he was looking for a man named Noll.’
Olly’s head snapped around to look at her. ‘What does he look like?’
The girl looked startled to have his attention on her. ‘Ah—’ she mumbled. ‘He’s quite young, not too tall. Looks half starved.’
Olly couldn’t breathe. Suddenly Ash was at his side, his hand on his arm.
‘Is that him?’ he said. ‘Is that Pepper?’
Olly nodded. Ash’s grip tightened.
‘Take us to him, please. Agnes—’
Agnes was already tidying away the papers on the desk. ‘Go. I shall give you some space.’
They rushed into the courtyard. Sure enough, there was a figure flanked by guards beside the portcullis.
‘Pepper!’
Olly was upon him in an instant, pulling him into a hug. Pepper swore colourfully until Olly released him.
‘You got my message?’
Pepper grinned. ‘I did. Not that it made any sense, of course, but when have you ever made sense?’
Olly stepped back so he could properly look at him. He looked well, thank God, unharmed and unmarked and just as scruffy as he had left him. The dagger was still strapped to his hip. Beside him was a handcart, piled with things.
‘What in God’s name did you bring?’ Olly asked.
‘Everything,’ Pepper said. ‘Everything that was mine, and some besides.’
‘Everything?’ It looked like he had uprooted his entire life.
‘Once John got word that you had failed …’ Pepper sighed. ‘It has been bad, Noll. Extremely bad. I gambled that it would be better here.’
Olly swallowed. ‘Let us get you inside and you can tell me everything. And we’ll find you something to eat. You look famished …’
‘Stop fussing over me, Noll.’
‘I am not fussing!’
‘You—’
‘Olly?’ Ash finally approached. ‘I presume you must be Pepper?’
Pepper gave Ash a deeply suspicious look. ‘That I am,’ he said. ‘And you are … ?’
‘Earl Ashwy Barden,’ Ash said, matching Pepper’s tone.
‘Stop it, both of you.’ Olly gave Ash a shove. ‘Come inside, I can make proper introductions.’
Once Pepper’s things were safely stowed away, Olly led him back into the solar.
Agnes, who was nowhere to be seen, had hidden away the reams of parchments and ledgers, making the room look almost cosy.
Pepper raised his eyebrows at the show of luxury around them – and the fine wine that they were brought by a deferent serving girl – but settled beside the fire quickly enough.
‘So,’ he said. ‘What in God’s name is going on, Noll?’
Olly took a breath. He glanced at Ash, who shrugged: tell him what you need to.
‘Do you recall what I told you about my time in France?’
Pepper squinted at him. ‘War, injury, ransom …’ He rattled off the list like it was nothing. ‘Is that right?’
‘Right enough,’ Olly said. ‘Do you remember me telling you of my … my companion?’
Pepper gave him an unimpressed look. ‘The one you were fucking but refused to tell me outright, for fear I would judge you? I recall.’
Olly spluttered as Ash snorted out a sharp laugh behind him.
‘You knew?’
‘It seemed rather obvious,’ Pepper said. ‘I thought that it was clear you did not wish to speak of him, so I never pressed the issue. From what you managed to tell me, though,’ he added, ‘it seems like he was a bastard.’
Ash laughed again. Olly sighed, leaning back.
‘Pepper,’ he said, gesturing towards Ash standing beside them. ‘Meet the bastard. I tend to call him Ash.’
Pepper looked at Ash with an expression of deep distrust, almost hate. The air in the room became close and tense.
‘You left him in France?’
‘No,’ Olly spoke before Ash could. ‘Not deliberately, at least.’
‘You said he refused to pay your ransom.’
‘I did. I was wrong.’
‘The ransom letters did not arrive,’ Ash said, stepping closer. ‘I would not have left Olly out there. Never.’
Pepper looked back to Olly. ‘You believe him?’
‘I do,’ Olly said. ‘And given that Ash has insisted on taking me in, I see no reason not to.’
He did not look convinced. ‘You know him best.’
‘There is more,’ Olly put in quickly. ‘The man John paid me to kill. That was Ash too.’
‘Fuck. Is it why you could not do it?’
‘I could not do it because I was overconfident,’ Olly said. ‘I went in too strong, and did not assume that his wife would be armed. They took me captive, before Ash realised who I was.’
Pepper nodded. ‘I had heard that you failed. I had assumed … until I received your message …’ His expression lost that laughing spark. ‘I assumed you had been killed.’
Olly took his hand. ‘I am so sorry, Pep.’
Pepper sniffed. ‘We both knew it was a risk,’ he said. ‘But still … I only learned you were alive after things had already turned sour.’
‘What happened?’
‘John is in debt. A lot of debt. He took the money from your job and squandered it. When we got word that you had failed to kill Lord Barden, he flew into a rage. There was no death, so there was no more money. You told me of a family friend? The one who knew John?’
‘Yes?’
‘He was in town. He’d been there all that time, waiting to hear that Lord Barden was dead.
He learned right away what had happened.
I’ve never seen an argument like it. This man demanded his money back; John claimed he no longer had it.
It was vicious. John tried to calm him, offered him his pick of the girls, told him they’d try again. Then the letter came.’
‘The letter?’
‘Lord Barden’s wife wrote to her family to tell them of the attack on the road, how lucky they had been to escape with their lives and informing them that she and Lord Barden were to be wed immediately. The family wrote to the friend to let him know. He was beside himself.’
‘I am sure he was,’ Ash said, pleased with himself. ‘Pepper … this man’s name. Do you know it?’
Pepper barely thought about it. ‘Frank.’
It wasn’t shocking. It wasn’t a revelation. But the confirmation was its own kind of blow.
‘What is it?’ Pepper asked, clearly registering the twin looks on Olly and Ash’s faces. ‘Whatever is the matter?’
‘Frank – Francis mac Cainnich – is in the keep,’ Olly said. ‘He is under this roof.’
Pepper’s eyes went even wider. ‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘When I left … I suspected that something was the matter. So … well, frankly, if John wants to leave his doors unlocked …’
‘Pepper.’ Olly grabbed the arms of his chair. ‘What did you do?’
Pepper reached into his tunic, then pulled out a much worn, much dirtied fold of parchment. Olly recognised the hunting horn seal: the letter that John had shown him, back when he was still a hopeless murderer. He took a breath.
‘Ash—’
‘I’ll fetch Agnes. Wait here.’
He did not take long. Agnes did not wait to be introduced, storming into the room towards the desk.
‘Tell me how bad things are.’
Olly swallowed. He looked from her, to Pepper, to the letter.
‘He speaks of talking to your family, and the letter repeats what John told me: a woman being married to a monster, a sister concerned for her safety. He clearly organised this with John himself. He mentions’ – Olly glanced down to the paper – ‘our previous conversation. They must have already known each other and discussed the issue. I suspect that this was merely committing the agreement to paper.’
‘Wonderful.’ Agnes dropped into the empty chair opposite Olly. ‘May I?’
She reached across the table. Olly handed her the parchment, which she took and quickly skimmed, eyes darting back and forth. Finally, she tossed it back to the table.
‘It does not prove half as much as I had hoped it would,’ Agnes said. ‘At least he was foolish enough to sign it with his name. Is there any way we can find more information from John?’
‘When I left, he had already gone,’ Pepper said. ‘He’ll have picked up a new name by now and started again, no doubt.’
‘So he is useless to us.’
‘I think we have enough to accuse Francis, though,’ Olly said. ‘We know he spoke to John, and we know he had a problem he wished for John to deal with. I know that after receiving this letter, John arranged for me to kill Ash. And I know that the writer of the letter paid for the whole affair.’
Agnes tapped her nails on the tabletop. ‘True. But what do we want to do with this information? Ash.’ She twisted to look up at him. ‘You are the one who they tried to kill. This sin is against you more than any of us. What do you want done with him?’
Ash swallowed. His gaze lingered on Olly.
‘I want him gone,’ he said. ‘But if Francis claims we are lying—’
‘Which he will,’ Agnes said.
‘Then it will be easy for him to turn the eye of justice onto Olly. He was the man who attempted the crime, after all. It will not be about retribution, just power,’ Ash said. ‘I do not wish to even consider starting that battle if it is one I may not win.’
‘All right,’ Olly said, chest tight. ‘And I suppose the matter still stands of your family, Agnes. We do not know how much they are involved in this. If they asked Francis to help them take such drastic actions, or if they had no notion of what he planned to do.’
Agnes sighed. ‘My family have always trusted him. Always believed his word above mine. He could have convinced them that there was no other alternative, or just assured them that he had it in hand …’
‘If he even wanted them to know,’ Ash added. ‘It would have been easy to pretend that it had been a robbery gone wrong. I would be dead, Francis would have what he desired, and your family would never know what he had done. Can you speak to them?’
Agnes stared at the desk. ‘I must. But if I do, and they admit to this … I do not know how I will be able to look at them again. I must talk to them. But—’
‘But the uncertainty is safer than knowing,’ Olly said.
Agnes finally looked up at him.
‘It is … better, sometimes,’ he confessed. ‘To not know. To not ask, so they can never hurt you.’
Agnes made a sad sort of sound. ‘It is,’ she said thickly.
‘But this is not about me. This is about us. All of us.’ She reached up, placing her hand over Ash’s.
‘If anything else, I must know if they were part of this so I can bar them from my home. Our home.’ Her eyes were steely. ‘I will not allow them to hurt you.’
The force of her words and the cut of her gaze were like a slap. Ash looked taken aback.
‘I cannot take this to Mother and Father,’ she said. ‘Not yet. I will speak to Muriel. I am sure she would have noticed if they were behaving oddly.’
‘And what of Francis?’ Olly said, leaning on the table. ‘How do we deal with him?’
‘We do not.’
Everyone looked at Ash.
‘What do you mean?’ Agnes said.
‘I mean what I say. We do nothing. I would love to pull him from this castle by his hair and throw him into the river where he belongs, but to do so will only prove to them all that I am the monster they assume I am. Anyway, it is better to wait until we know if your family is involved before we throw around accusations.’
Agnes sagged in her seat. Olly raised his eyebrows.
‘That … is extremely reasonable,’ he said.
‘I know.’ Ash dragged his hand down his face.
His fingers twitched towards his scar, but Olly grabbed his arm, halting him before he could dig at it.
‘Besides, he may yet know who Olly is. It would be easy enough to learn that he was the man who attacked us if he asks Michael. I cannot imagine how maddening it would be, knowing that the man you hired is galivanting around the keep of the person he failed to kill.’
‘Are you suggesting we wait until we confront him just to make him twitch?’
‘That is not the only reason.’
Olly burst into laughter.
‘That is quite brilliant, you know,’ Pepper said, eyeing Ash critically. ‘Force him to wait for the sword to drop. He may confess himself, just to get it over with.’
‘Maybe he will throw himself into the river,’ Olly mused.
Ash huffed through his nostrils. ‘We can only hope. Where is Francis now?’
Agnes gave him a sour look. ‘He has ridden into Skeldale.’
‘At least he is not here,’ Olly sniffed. ‘One less person to worry about.’
‘Indeed.’ Agnes sighed, then – at last – turned to Pepper. ‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘I have been terribly rude to you. Pepper, is it? I have heard much about you.’
Pepper looked at Olly. ‘Have you now?’
‘All good things I can assure you,’ Agnes said smoothly. ‘I am Agnes, although I presume you already know that. Would you like us to show you around?’
‘Actually.’ Olly stood. ‘I thought I would show Pepper around myself. There are some things I wish to …’ he glanced at Agnes and then away again, feeling himself blush. ‘… to discuss with him.’
‘Very well,’ Ash said. ‘Come and find us when you are settled. And Pepper … welcome to Dunlyn Castle.’