Chapter 3
In which a deal is made
As much as one would like to be without guile, sometimes deceit is necessary.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
Judith widened her eyes. “Hand over what?” She must not be seen to give in too easily.
“Do not trifle with me! The Travel charm!”
“Believe me, the charm has lost its power now,” she replied airily. “I’m certain I used the last of it. And you heard me before: it was a gift to the duke from his dear friend, and it has great sentimental value. I would much rather keep it.”
“I am sure you would,” said Drumpellier grimly. He took a step closer, looming over her as Ltn Greene cleared his throat at her back. “But you will give it to me, or I will have you arrested for treason!”
“Treason! Goodness me! A slightly excessive reaction!” Judith fumbled with her fingers and made a show of reluctantly pulling off the diamond ring she had obtained from Yvette. Hesitantly, she held it out to Drumpellier, who took it with commendable restraint, not snatching at all.
“Thank you.” He stepped back and managed a bow. “I apologise for my short manner, ma’am, but you must understand that this is a military fortification, and we are at war. I cannot have you disregarding my orders.”
“Certainly not, Captain, but as a Truth Discernor, I cannot disregard the course of justice either.” She leaned forward to murmur in his ear. “Please recall: I know that you are wearing a false name, and I will alert your superiors of the fact, if I must.”
Drumpellier’s expression hardened again. “Unfortunately for you, Lady Avely, my superiors are well aware of my false name. Indeed, they gave it to me.”
She backed away, staring, and he continued with a trace of smugness as he tucked her ring out of sight.
“As an agent of the Custos, I was given this position and a different name to hide my purpose. You will find that your attempt at blackmail will not work, and furthermore, that the Custos will not be patient with any indiscretions.”
“But why, when we rode to Garvey House…” Judith trailed off. She had hinted at her knowledge then, and the captain had ceded a horse to her. She had thought that she might have a hold over him.
“Why did I allow you to dictate my actions? I did not want to give my game away, so I let you go ahead. Now, however, as Captain of this garrison, and as Head Custodian here, I command that you keep your silence regarding his grace and the presence of the Musor Custos.”
Judith knew the Custos were law unto themselves; she had only hoped they would show some regard to due process.
Yet she also knew that the whole point of the Custos was that they dealt their justice from the shadows, inspiring fear and compliance in the Musor community with their mysterious indictments.
Pressing her lips together, she wondered how to proceed now that one of her cards had been taken away from her.
Drumpellier gentled his voice. “The Musor Custos have long been guardians of justice, and I admire your tenacity, Lady Avely. You must trust us to do as we see fit to curtail any misuse of power.” He mustered a smile.
“May I offer you a cup of tea? It appears that you have had a rather long night, and, whether we like it or not, you are now my guest.”
Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and led the way into a neat sitting room.
Judith followed crossly (with Ltn Greene right behind) and entered a room with a whitewashed ceiling upheld by dark wooden beams, and small paned windows looking onto the ocean.
The sky was slowly lightening with the faint luminescence of predawn, the sea a murky grey.
A pang of anxiety shot through her for Marigold and Yvette.
As she took a seat on a hard-backed chair, she re-evaluated her tactics.
It was clear Drumpellier was now trying to disarm her. Yet two could play that game.
Drumpellier sat facing the door and asked Ltn Greene to alert the housekeeper to their needs. The lieutenant rapped his heels sharply and withdrew.
“Well, Lady Avely,” Drumpellier leaned forward with a rueful expression. “We have begun on a rather difficult footing, but allow me to remedy that. We are to be neighbours, if it is true that you are to take up residence in Castle Lanyon.” He ended on a faint note of interrogation.
Judith adjusted her mobcap, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. “Oh yes, I am the new Marchioness of Lanyon, by decree of His Majesty. To be entirely frank, that is partly why I used the Travel charm. It brought me much closer to my new home, which I am overdue to inspect.”
Drumpellier did not seem unduly impressed.
He said carefully, “I am afraid that you might find Castle Lanyon is not as salubrious as you might hope—it is, after all, situated on a tidal island, so it is difficult to maintain. The caretaker there, a fellow by name of Trebellow, does his best, but it is rundown. Moreover,” he added, “it is reputed to be haunted with a desperate soul who casts a pall of dread over the place.”
Judith raised her brows. “Haunted? Surely you don’t believe that.
” She could hear a note of satire in his voice, but she did not want to test her Gift too much, else she would become Bemused.
That her mind was still relatively clear meant that Marigold must be not too far away; the vampiri bond protected against Bemusement, especially when they were near to each other.
“No,” admitted the captain, “but you will have to face down the rumours of ghosts if you are to find more servants. Currently, I think there are only about seven who live and work at the castle, though there are others who run the dairy.”
“Ah yes, the creamery. I look forward to sampling the wares.”
“A colony of puffins is also in residence, along with the cows. You will have your work cut out for you simply in managing the livestock.”
She did not want to be distracted with such matters or cordiality, but just then, the housekeeper came in with a tea tray and plate of buttered buns.
At Drumpellier’s nod, Judith mechanically began pouring the hot steaming liquid into delicate cups. As she passed him one, Drumpellier said, “I suspect that if you are a Truth Discernor, Lady Avely, you know how to lie.”
She picked up her cup and took a sip, ignoring this slur.
“As a Truth Discernor, I have a special regard for the truth. You must hear what I have to say in the duke’s defence, informally at least.” Hoping she could appeal to his sense of honour, Judith began describing the mitigating circumstances to Dacian’s killing blow upon Lord Garvey.
Captain Drumpellier’s brow creased thoughtfully at intervals, but his face remained aloof.
At the end of her recitation, he absentmindedly pulled an oblong pebble out of his coat pocket.
It was so deep blue as to be black, worn smooth by the passage of water.
Judith recognised it as a Talisman Stone of schorl, the stone of Impactors.
It seemed to soothe Drumpellier as he ran his fingers over it.
“Well?” she asked. “What say you? Are the circumstances not extenuating?”
He put the schorl down on the table with a click, a reminder of his power. “A fairly convoluted story, and it relies upon your own perception of the truth. Yet—if you are a Truth Discernor, you could prove your Gift to me.”
“Pardon me?” The impertinence of the man, to question her Gift! Judith raised a hand to the gold chain on her neck, pulling out her own Talisman Stone; a large lapis lazuli given to her by no less than His Majesty himself. It was the stone of Discernors, and a small proof of her claim.
Drumpellier eyed the pendant. “Indeed. Well, I have a troubling matter on hand, and I could do with some help.”
“Oh?” Judith took a buttered bun from the plate, and a large bite.
It was accepting victuals from the enemy, but she hadn’t had food for hours now.
She stared at the captain as she chewed, in no mood to help him.
He hadn’t paid one jot of attention to her story!
And Dacian was languishing in a cell without his memory.
Drumpellier leaned back. “Three days ago, one of my soldiers was found dead on the shore near Castle Lanyon. If you can discover the truth of his demise, I will allow you to tender a statement in the duke’s defence.”
Judith raised her brows. Was he simply trying to be rid of her? Yet the captain looked rather intent, even as he made a show of leaning nonchalantly against his chair, his cup held idly in his hands. And his voice did not ring hollow.
“I cannot do much to investigate it myself,” he added. “I am occupied here, facing the threat of invasion. I cannot waste more time with what appears simply to be death by drowning, despite my suspicions, when Bonaparte could start ferrying his troops into England any day now.”
“Only if our navy fails us, which I doubt will prove to be the case.”
“Nonetheless, I am fully occupied. Whereas you will be going to Lanyon Isle soon enough and can make discreet inquiries.”
Judith weighed him; he took a sip of tea. She took another bite of her bun, feeling as if she ought to bide her time before she answered one way or the other. Did he really expect her to cooperate with him when he was keeping Dacian locked up in a cell? The bread was dry in her mouth.
“The matter is made more curious,” he continued, “by the fact that Sgt Finlay’s body appeared to be bruised and battered.
The Pendennis surgeon assures me this could have been caused by the battering of waves and rocks shortly after he died, but the back of the head was injured in a way that provokes my suspicion. ”
“You think someone hit him on the head before he drowned?”