Chapter 12
Adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream like a shot of bad tequila, and I was out of our tent before I even noticed I was barefoot.
It hadn’t been an average scream of shock or surprise. It had been one of abject terror, and my mind assaulted me with every possible reason someone could have for screaming like that.
“Ken!” Yori shouted.
I glanced over my shoulder, and she was running up behind me with Carissa hot on her heels. Serra and Tanell were following at a slightly slower pace, and dozens of people from all five other nations were emerging from their tents to see what all the fuss was about.
“Sire, over there!” one of my soldiers shouted and pointed.
I nodded my thanks as I pivoted in the direction he’d indicated, and I raced across the grassy field, between the tents of Basstrum and Zall, and to the outer edges of the encampment.
A small group of maids and footmen was gathered in a tight circle, and a woman was sobbing uncontrollably at the edge. Three maids in Zall’s colors were holding her up, and she was the picture-perfect definition of hysterical.
Her eyes were wide as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, and her mouth gaped in horror as she muttered something unintelligible.
“What happened?” I demanded in my most kingly voice. “Move aside!”
“Sire,” Otto appeared from the crowd. “I was on patrol… I was the first to respond to the maid’s screams… She–”
“Otto.” I grabbed his shoulder. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Someone was trampled to death,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed. “Who?”
“I’m not certain, sire,” Otto said with a regretful grimace. “His face… It’s difficult to recognize him.”
“Shit,” I hissed, and I turned to the four women. “Tanell, Serra, see if you can help the maid calm down. Find out what she saw, will you?”
“Of course,” Tanell said while Serra nodded.
“Yori, Carissa,” I said. “Come with me.”
The two dark-haired women nodded and squared their shoulders.
“Sire–” Otto held up a hand to stop me. “It’s not a pleasant sight.”
“I understand,” I said. “Thank you.”
A few of the other leaders were starting to come over to us, and I wanted to have a look before anyone else could interfere. I walked forward and pushed my way through the crowd.
“Horrible,” someone muttered.
“Tragic,” someone else replied.
“Who was he?” a woman asked through heavy tears.
“It’s hard to say…” was the first answer she got.
“Not a servant,” another man said. “Look at his clothes.”
By that point, I’d made it through the crowd of gawking spectators to the body.
He was definitely dead, alright. There was little more than a bloody mess where his face should have been, and two startlingly clear horseshoe prints marred the front of his forest-green jacket.
It looked like the horse had stomped on his chest before pounding his skull into the ground.
“That doesn’t look like any trampled-by-a-horse accident I’ve ever seen,” Yori whispered to me.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Yori opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, another voice rose above the crowd.
“Make way!” King Horus barked. “Move aside! Show some damn respect!”
The crowd of servants and soldiers finally pushed away from the body, and King Horus, King Enken, and Prime Minister Eriz appeared.
“What happened?” Eriz asked.
“We’re not sure yet,” I said. “The hysterical maid seems to have stumbled across the body first, and my soldier, Otto, was first to arrive after she screamed.”
King Mannie arrived next, and he hissed as if someone had slapped him across the face when he got a good look at the victim.
“Do you recognize him?” I asked.
“Yes,” Mannie said, and his dark eyes shone with tears for a moment before he swallowed and composed himself. “He’s one of my ambassadors.”
“Shit,” I sighed.
The queens from Zall, Basstrum, and Kestran joined us a second later.
“What happened?” Queen Lucita asked, and when she reached Mannie’s side and got a look, she gasped. “Oh, god.”
“What’s his name?” I asked Mannie in a soft voice.
“Rostam Dadan,” Mannie said. “What a horror… He was a man of great integrity. He served me loyally for a decade.”
“What’s all this?” Queen Sybil asked in a loud voice, as if a man hadn’t just died in a truly horrific manner.
“Ken,” Carissa murmured.
The others began to fill in Sybil and the other queens about what we’d learned so far, which wasn’t a whole lot, and I leaned in to Carissa and Yori.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“This doesn’t look like an accident,” Yori whispered.
“I agree,” Carissa said.
“And I’ve never seen a horse stomp so intentionally,” Yori added. “There are at least four strikes to the head. A spooked horse wouldn’t stomp in the exact same place like that.”
“What are you saying?” I asked as my suspicion rose even higher. “Was this intentional?”
“It wasn’t an accident.” Yori’s eyebrows knitted together with certainty.
“It’s possible it wasn’t even a horse,” Carissa whispered.
My eyes went wide at that, and a cold, sinking pit opened in the base of my stomach.
“I don’t see what all the fuss is about…” Sybil’s voice drew my attention. “He was obviously trampled by his horse.”
“But there’s no horse anywhere around,” Queen Laylia pointed out.
“If the horse was spooked by something,” Sybil said. “Then it probably ran off in fear.”
“We need to find it,” Queen Lucita said with a heavy frown.
“Kuri!” Mannie called. “Kuri, ah, there you are.”
A young footman who looked like he had to be all of twenty years old appeared at Mannie’s side.
“Go to the paddock,” Mannie instructed the young footman. “You know what Rostam’s horse looks like. Search the paddock for her.”
“Aye, Your Majesty.” Kuri nodded and raced off in the direction of the temporary paddock on the opposite side of the encampment.
“What a foolish idea,” Sybil scoffed. “Obviously, the horse wouldn’t return itself to the paddock. It’s probably running through the fields right now. God knows where it will end up, but it will probably kill itself in its panic.”
“Should we begin a search, sire?” a soldier asked King Mannie.
“Yes,” Mannie decided after a short pause. “Take twenty men and search outward from this location. Search for a horse as well as anything suspicious.”
“What a waste of time,” Sybil muttered.
The only reason I was able to catch her words was that I was subtly paying attention to her while we tried to figure out what had happened. I didn’t trust her further than I could have thrown my castle, so to say, not the fuck at all.
“Sire!” Kuri gasped as he ran back to us. “Sire.”
“Breathe, man,” Mannie insisted. “What did you find?”
“Sir Rostam’s horse–” Kuri huffed. “She’s still in the paddock.”
King Manolito’s face shifted into an expression somewhere between agony and rage.
“He wasn’t killed by a spooked horse,” Mannie declared.
“What? How does that prove anything?” Sybil asked. “He was obviously riding another horse.”
Mannie ignored her statement and turned to me.
“What do you need, Mannie?” I asked.
“I…” Mannie’s face contorted in heartache for a moment, and he took a heavy breath. “Nothing at the moment.”
Despite his words, there was a sharp glint in his dark brown eyes that told me there was something more he couldn’t say in the present company, and my gears started turning.
“We need to return his body home,” Mannie decided.
“Do you need a spare carriage to transport him?” I asked.
“No, no.” Mannie shook his head. “We have a carriage we can spare.”
He turned to speak with one of his servants, and I studied the crowd as people began to drift away from the situation.
I spotted Tanell and Serra walking with the hysterical maid toward Zall’s tents, and I itched to go after them to find out if they’d learned anything useful from her.
It was unlikely they’d been able to get anything coherent from the sobbing maid, but I still wanted to hear it from them to be sure.
“I’m going to bed,” Sybil announced. “Alert my captain if there’s any actual threat.”
Nobody bothered to reply to her, but King Giles took a second to offer condolences to King Mannie and Queen Lucita before he followed behind her.
Yori and Carissa remained silently at my sides as the crowd continued to thin, and soon only a few of us remained with King Mannie.
“Would you like some company?” I offered.
“Yes,” Mannie said. “Horus, Doria, Eriz, would you please come to my tent as well? There’s something I wish to discuss. Enken, you’re welcome to join us, too.”
“Of course,” Eriz said.
Doria eyed Mannie with a sharp expression, and I suspected she had also read that there was something he wanted to share with us where we might have more privacy.
“I think I’ll retire for the night,” Carissa told me. “It seems like this is a conversation of the highest confidentiality.”
“Mmm.” I nodded in agreement. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow on what I can.”
“Be careful.” Carissa’s hand lifted from her side like she was going to reach out and touch me, but she stopped herself. “Good night, sire.”
“Night,” I mumbled as she walked away.
Yori and I lingered for a few more minutes and watched as several of Mannie’s soldiers arrived with a long, flat board, rope, and a canvas tarp. As gingerly as possible, they lifted the dead ambassador onto the board and covered him with the canvas.
“Come, friends,” Mannie sighed.
We walked away as the soldiers began to tie the rope around the canvas-wrapped body to secure it to the board for transport back to Zall.
Doria, Enken, Horus, Eriz, Yori, and I followed Mannie and Lucita to their tent, and as soon as we were inside, three maids worked to close the tent flaps and light some candles for us.
“Please, sit, my friends,” Mannie said.
Lucita sighed as she slumped into a cushioned chair, and Mannie went over to one of the maids. It looked like he had requested refreshments for us, and the rest of us chose seats and settled in.
Mannie sat down next to his wife, and no one seemed willing to break the silence.
“Is anyone else suspicious about tonight’s events?” Horus finally asked.
“Yes,” I answered right away.