Chapter 31 Cole
Cole
One couldn’t cross a sea by simply staring at the water. And that’s exactly what Cole felt they were doing.
The day after their visits to Thusk’s warehouse, Tom Raven’s house, and the frozen harbor, he sat at a table in the Ivory Spit with Kurtz and Mistel, listening to Arbin Roxley play his fiddle by the fire.
The goal had been to try and figure out what to do next, but Mistel had rushed inside with big news that had completely sidetracked their conversation.
“Lady Viola was taken last night!” she said.
“Taken by who?” Cole asked.
“Master Vandy didn’t know that,” Mistel said. “He just heard that Lord Livna won the duel but that his daughter and wife were abducted during the fight.”
“That’s impossible,” Kurtz said. “I tracked Lady Viola all the way back to Lytton Hall.”
Mistel’s posture wilted. “Oh dear. I was hoping you might have a clue. It must have happened after she got back.”
Cole pictured that tiny little girl sitting up on the dais the night of the banquet in Lytton Hall. “That’s horrible,” he said. “Is there anything we can do to help find them?”
“I don’t know what,” Kurtz said. “I’ve never been able to bloodvoice people I don’t know well, and Lady Viola and I didn’t exactly become fast friends when she threw us in the dungeon, eh?”
“Where did Lady Viola go when you followed her?” Mistel asked.
“The Black Boar,” Cole said.
Mistel looked from Cole to Kurtz. “Are you positive?”
“As sure as my sword is sharp,” Kurtz said. “The woman tied up her horse at the hitching post, she did, then went inside the Boar.”
Cole had heard all of this last night, but Mistel hadn’t gotten the story yet.
“Who let her in?” she asked.
Kurtz took a sip of his ale. “Cernel Crow.”
Mistel’s eyes flashed wide. “Why would she visit him?”
“That’s a very good question, that is,” Kurtz said.
“How long was she in there?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Did you speak to her when she came out?”
“I did, and let’s just say, she didn’t like my questions. And I didn’t want to spend another night in Lytton Hall’s dungeons, eh?”
“Then you followed her back to Lytton Hall?” Mistel asked.
“From a distance, aye. She rode through the gates, she did. And that’s as far as I went.”
“They must have been waiting for her.” Mistel slouched in her seat. “Oh, I wish you’d followed her all the way to the door.”
“Had no business doing that,” Kurtz said.
“But why would she visit that old bloodvoicer?” Mistel asked.
“My best guess?” Kurtz said. “To bribe the man to use his magic to help Eric win the fight.”
“Lord Livna cheat?” Mistel’s tone made her feelings on that idea plain.
“Never,” Kurtz said. “Lady Viola, however…I’d put nothing past a Jaelportian.”
“That’s not fair,” Cole said. “She’s only half Jaelportian, and she grew up in Zerah Rock with Sir Rigil.”
“Bah!” Kurtz said.
Cole though it over. “My guess is Fenris Yarden has something to do with this. Maybe he wanted to take Lord Livna’s family in case he lost the duel.”
“What if he’s working with Verdot Amal and sells them?” Mistel asked.
“We should go to Lytton Hall and offer our help to Lord Livna,” Cole said.
“You think you and I are going to add muscle to the Fighting Fifteen?” Kurtz asked.
Kurtz would, but Cole would only be a burden. “Can’t you at least try to bloodvoice her?”
Kurtz pinned him with a heavy stare. “All right.” He closed his eyes.
Cole stared at Kurtz: blond eyebrows and dark eyelashes, reddish beard, the thin scar on the right side of his beard where no hair grew. He stared a moment longer, then let his eyes drift to Mistel. Her ginger curls and easy smile somehow lightened the tension in the room.
Kurtz sucked in a deep breath and blinked. “Sorry, lad. If she heard me, she didn’t answer.”
“Maybe she couldn’t,” Mistel said.
Near the fireplace, Arbin finished one song to a smattering of applause, then began another. Cole supposed there was little else their trio could do to help a man like Lord Livna, who had his own army. He steered their discussion back to their mission.
“We know Thusk ships goods to Jaelport, but his warehouse was clean,” Cole said. “We’re fairly certain prisoners are being taken from Ice Island through that tunnel, but we don’t know who’s doing it or where they’re taking them. We know Verdot is hiding something—”
“Many somethings,” Kurtz added.
“And we know Drustan is somehow connected,” Cole said, “because he threatened Tom Raven’s daughter.”
“We also know there are runes on some of Thusk’s wagons that match those at the prison,” Mistel said. “But there are none on his warehouse.”
“He must have another warehouse,” Cole said. “We should search the town until we spot more of those runes.”
Kurtz leaned back in his chair. “That’s not a bad idea, but it’ll take a while. Tsaftown is not exactly small.”
“We also know Cole’s father doesn’t trust Thusk,” Mistel said, “and that Thusk is being blackmailed by Lord Falkson.”
“Right,” Kurtz said, “and we still have no idea who framed West or why.”
“Or how the Black Boar ties into any of it,” Cole said. “Apart from Drustan running the place.”
“And Fenris living there,” Kurtz added. “And Crow and all the Howlers too.”
“And Lady Viola’s visit,” Mistel said.
The tavern door swung open, letting in a chilly gust of air. Lovell Dunn and Jol Quimby entered.
Merrygog, who was sitting with a group of old timers over by the fireplace, gestured toward Dunn with his mug, sloshing a bit of ale over the side. “What’s all this ruckus I’ve been hearing about, then? Half the town’s buzzing like a kicked beehive that Lady Viola is in trouble.”
“Yes, Master Dunn,” Rilla piped in as she filled a man’s tankard with ale, “do tell us what’s happened.”
Dunn spread his arms wide and let out a booming proclamation. “Good people of the Ivory Spit, rest assured that the trouble has been resolved! Lady Viola is home safe, as is Miss Nevandra. Alas, Fenris Yarden and Joonas Erlichman are dead.”
A ripple of shock ran through the room. Arbin Roxley stopped playing his fiddle, which made the silence in the tavern even more pronounced. Cole tensed, his gaze snapping to Kurtz, who leaned an elbow on the table, his eyes narrowed.
“Was Sir Fenris the one who waylaid her ladyship?” Rilla asked.
Dunn sank onto a chair at the table beside theirs.
“As you all know, Lord Livna and Sir Fenris fought a duel yesterday in the Dale. While that was happening, some of Sir Fenris’s Howlers sneaked into Lytton Hall and abducted little Nevandra.
” He paused for effect, and the collective gasp he drew from the crowd seemed to spur him on.
“The fiend wanted a way to blackmail his lordship into handing over rule of the city.”
Mistel grinned at Cole and whispered. “You were right.”
“Not a chance.” Merrygog slammed his mug on the table. “Our lord bested that scoundrel fair and true. I saw it myself!”
Dunn leaned forward. “Picture this, my friends,” he said, his voice low and dramatic.
“While his lordship was locked in a duel with Fenris Yarden, that villain had already ordered his men to sneak into Lytton Hall like shadows on a moonless night. They snatched young Nevandra, intending to use the wee lass, should Fenris lose the duel, to twist Lord Livna’s arm into surrendering the city. ”
“Hunxes, all of them,” Mistel mumbled.
Dunn paused, waiting, it seemed, for the crowd to finish reacting.
“Fenris underestimated the courage of the women of Lytton Hall. Lady Viola discovered the abduction before her lord returned, and with Lady Lathia by her side, the pair rode out to confront the blackguard. They stormed Fenris’s camp—two noblewomen against a den of wolves!
And when it came to saving her daughter, Lady Viola didn’t hesitate.
She traded herself for Nevandra’s freedom. ”
Cole’s heart hammered as he imagined such a thing. He could almost hear music building as Dunn told the story. What a song this would make!
Dunn raised his hand. “This dawn, Lord Livna, Captain Demry, and the Fighting Fifteen marched up the mountain to rescue her.”
“Dunn and me with them,” Quimby piped in.
“But Fenris was a clever fox,” Dunn said. “He’d set traps to slow us down. An avalanche, my friends. Snow and ice came crashing down the slopes, nearly swallowing us whole.” He mimed the roaring cascade with a sweep of his arm, earning a few startled flinches.
“But the Fifteen pressed on,” he continued, “their hearts as fierce as their blades. And because of our lord’s and lady’s diplomacy skills, the Poroo joined them in the fight, and together, we outwitted Fenris’s men.
Yet the fiend didn’t go quietly. Oh no. Sir Fenris fled with Councilor Erlichman across the frozen lake, taking Lady Viola with them, thinking the ice would hold.
But ah, the warmer days of late had thinned it, and as they neared the center, the ice gave way. Erlichman and his festrier fell.”
“He was killed?” Merrygog asked.
“Aye, that he was. But our lordship…” Dunn stood and spread his arms as if to embody Lord Livna himself. “He raced onto the precarious ice to save Lady Viola from going under. Fenris tried to stop him. And to save his beloved bride, Lord Livna, brave and true, tackled Fenris into the icy waters.”
Mistel gasped.
“His vile cousin tried to drag him down, but our lord’s love for his wife gave him strength beyond measure. He prevailed against that villain, and Lady Viola herself pulled his lordship from the icy depths. They say her hands were trembling, but her heart was as steady as the mountains.”
“Lady Viola rescued Lord Livna?” Mistel asked, her eyes shimmering.
“Aye, lass,” Dunn said, nodding gravely. “She saved him as much as he saved her. A true love story, if ever there was one.”
He let his words linger before sitting down, a satisfied grin on his bearded face.
“And that, my friends, is how courage and love overcame treachery and cold steel. Lord Livna, Lady Viola, and little Nevandra are safe, while Fenris, Erlichman, and their many schemes lie frozen at the bottom of the lake.”
“Where none will miss them,” Quimby added.
Silence hung heavy in the room.
Cole could hardly believe it.
“What a story,” Mistel said.
“Indeed, Miss Wepp, indeed,” Dunn said. “His lordship is in bed now, warming his bones, which I can tell you were frozen clear through.”
“What part did Councilor Erlichman play in all this?” Merrygog asked.
“Ahh,” Dunn said. “Poor Joonas never had much of a spine, I’m afraid. Personality as strong as Fenris clipped the bit right into his mouth. He’d been steering the man for months.”
The tavern erupted into murmurs of reflection. Rilla served Dunn and Quimby bowls of steaming stew and tankards of ale.
“Poor Nash,” Mistel said. “He must be heartbroken. Councilor Erlichman seemed like such a nice man.”
“He was,” Kurtz said. “You know what they say about bad company, though.”
“I wish I knew what this meant for our investigation,” Cole whispered.
“As do I.” Kurtz took a drink. “Actually, that gives me an idea.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Dunn,” Kurtz said, “did you ever know a man named Crispen West?”
Dunn tapped his chin, then nodded slowly. “Aye, I knew him. That was years ago. He wasn’t in the army long before he went bad. Was like a colt fresh out of the stable, all legs and no sense. Ran with Fenris, actually. They played their pranks, though I never got involved. Roxburg warned me off.”
“Do you remember his arrest?” Kurtz asked.
Dunn shook his head. “Wasn’t here for it, but I heard he killed a man. Shame, really. On his own, he wasn’t a bad fellow. Just got mixed up with the wrong crowd. A bit like Erlichman, I’d guess, though West was always dead broke.”
“We think he was framed,” Cole said, surprising himself with the bluntness of his comment.
Dunn’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you now? Wouldn’t surprise me. Fenris had a way of steering people into trouble, now, didn’t he?”
Arbin struck up a new tune on his fiddle, and the conversation around them returned to its usual hum.
Kurtz leaned across the table and kept his voice low. “That was a big clue, about West and Fenris.”
“It connects Fenris to Thusk,” Cole said. “At least back then. You think Fenris had something to do with framing Uncle Crisp—uh, my father?”
“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Kurtz said. “Can’t believe that blighter is dead.”
Cole stared into the flames, his thoughts spiraling. He might still stumble over the word father when speaking of Crispen, but he believed wholeheartedly that the man was innocent.
He knocked on the tabletop, and when Kurtz met his gaze, Cole tapped his temple.
What you got? Kurtz bloodvoiced.
“Oh, don’t leave me out.” Mistel pushed out her bottom lip.
Cole winked at her. “I’ll tell you later.” Then he thought to Kurtz, What if my father wasn’t framed at all? What if he took the fall to protect Fenris and his men from something bigger being exposed?
Wouldn’t surprise me, Kurtz voiced. Fenris kept Crispen alive because killing him would’ve pointed back to him. But now that Fenris is gone, Crispen talking could expose Ikard and the rest. Kurtz shook his head. That rotting brute won’t let your father live.
Cole shivered at the memory of the scalps on Ikard’s belt. He’ll silence him to keep the past buried.
Your father’s expendable now.
We need to get him out of there.
Kurtz grunted. Even with what we know about the tunnel, it’s not that easy.
But we also have Zanna.
True, that. I’ll think on it.
Cole nodded his thanks. He couldn’t let his father end up like Councilor Erlichman, a pawn in the schemes of miscreants. No matter what it took, Cole would clear his father’s name and get him out of Ice Island, whichever came first.
Crispen West deserved a chance to start over.
And Cole would make sure he got it.