Sheepfarmer's Dauther

Chapter Five

In the Duke’s Court, the little group clustered near the fountain. The witnesses sat on its stone rim; the others stood.

“Tell us first, Stephi, everything that happened yesterday after you left me in Duke’s East,” said the captain.

“Yes, sir. Well, I came directly here with the men; we didn’t stop at all in Duke’s East. When we arrived, I asked a recruit to call the quartermaster for me—I don’t know what his name was, a stocky brown-haired boy—and had the men put up their horses and turn in their swords. Then I talked to the quartermaster, and gave him your letter, sir, and we went into the storerooms and started marking what we were to take back. Suddenly I realized that it was getting late, and I hadn’t told anyone you were coming yet, so I left the quartermaster and went through the Duke’s Gate to speak to the steward.”

“Had you had anything to eat or drink, Stephi?”

“No, sir, nothing but water. We got here after lunch. But when I’d spoken to the Duke’s steward, he asked if I’d like some ale. Tell you the truth, sir, that’s one reason I didn’t stop in the village. When I came up here six months ago with a message, the steward gave me some ale while I waited for the reply, and—and I was hoping, sir, he might again. Not that I’d have asked, of course, it being the Duke’s own ale. But, sir, you know how tasty it is.”

“Indeed I do. So you drank ale, then? How much?”

“Well, the steward brought out a ewer and a tankard, and the ewer was full. I poured out a tankard of it, and he left to go back inside and give orders to the servants. It was as good as I remembered, or better. I finished that tankard, sir, and thought of pouring out another. But I thought how strong the ale was, and I didn’t want to be drunk—but he’d said to drink hearty, and it was already out of the cask—he wouldn’t pour it back in—” Stephi’s tanned face was flushed with embarrassment. “So I—well—sir, I poured it into the flask I was carrying, after pouring the rest of my water out. There was maybe a swallow left in the ewer, and I drank that. Then the steward came back, and asked how I liked the ale, and I said fine, and he asked if I wanted more, or something to eat, and I said no, I’d eat with the men at mess, and thanked him.”

“Where is that flask now, Stephi?” asked Kolya.

“With my things, I suppose; I took it back to the barn and put it in my saddlebags.”

“Go on, then.”

“After that, after I put the flask up, it was nearly time for supper. I saw you ride in, sir, and go on through the Duke’s Gate, and then I collected the men and we went to eat.”

“What did you eat?”

“The usual, sir. Bread, cheese, stew. The men ate the same. I remember feeling a little—annoyed—at the noise. It seemed louder, all that banging and clattering. I wondered if I shouldn’t have had that last swallow of ale, but nobody else seemed to notice anything about me, and I was steady on my feet. But then, sir—it’s as if I was—was thinking about something else. You know how you can do something routine, but you aren’t thinking about it, and a little later you can’t remember if you’ve done it? I know I left the mess hall, but it’s hazy after that. I think I walked out into the court, but I’m not sure even of that. Then—nothing, until I woke in the infirmary.” Stephi looked around at the puzzled faces.

“How long would you say it lasted?” asked Kolya of the captain.

“The violent phase—only a quarterglass or a little longer; the loss of memory seems to be about six hours.”

“It’s consistent with a potion or spell,” said the mayor.

“A potion, I’d say. We don’t have a mage in range for this,” said the captain.

“I think we need to check the Duke’s ale. If someone has tampered with it—” The mayor’s long face scowled at them.

“I’ll get the steward.” Sejek disappeared into the arched doorway of the Duke’s Hall. It was some little time before he came out; he had a large flask of tawny liquid, and the steward carried a ewer and tankard on a tray. Venneristimon looked concerned, and was talking as he came.

“I’m quite sure, Captain Sejek,” he was saying, “that nothing is wrong with the Duke’s ale. It’s true that this cask has been tapped some time, but I fail to see how anything could have adulterated it. Perhaps I simply should not have given the poor fellow quite so much. I mean, he seemed responsible.”

“We’ll have to check it, Venner, and make sure. The Duke has enemies enough who might wish to poison his stores.” The captain put the flask he was carrying down in front of the witnesses. “I drew this off, myself,” he said. “It smelled all right. I had Venner bring out the same ewer and tankard he served Stephi with. Do you recognize ’em, Stephi?”

Stephi reached for the utensils and Venner released them. He turned the tankard around in his hands. “Yes, sir, it’s the same. There’s a dent here on the rim, see? And the ewer matched the pattern, same as this one does.”

“I was telling the captain,” Venner put in, “that of course these things were washed up at once. If there was anything, it would be gone.”

The witnesses all examined the ewer and tankard. “It looks innocent enough,” said the mayor. “But it could have held anything.”

“Let’s test the ale,” said Kolya.

“Go ahead,” said the captain, nodding toward the flask. Kolya picked it up and sniffed.

“Smells like good ale. But I wonder if we could smell a potion, or would the ale cover it?”

Stammel shrugged. “I don’t know—I’ve heard that some potions have a strong smell, but who’s to say?”

“Try a single drop,” suggested the mayor. “See what happens.”

“If I go wild,” said Kolya, “don’t break my arm; I’ve got apple harvest coming soon.” She sipped the ale. “Tastes good. This is what he serves at the high feasts, isn’t it, Venner?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Tastes just as it did last year, if I’m any judge. No aftertaste.”

“I think the corporal just drank too much,” Venner said again. “It is strong ale, and I should not have brought a full ewer.”

“It can’t be that, Venner; he didn’t drink it all,” said the captain. “He drank only one tankard—and one tankard of anything wouldn’t make Stephi drunk. He poured the rest into his water flask.”

“Stephi,” said Stammel. “Do you have any sort of potion at all—anything you might have added to that ale later, and forgotten?”

Stephi thought a moment. “Well—” he looked embarrassed. “I do have a—sort of a—a love potion. I got it from an old granny down the other side of Vérella. But—there’s not much to it, sir, really, and besides, I didn’t take it.”

Kolya looked at him. “A love potion?”

“It’s—it’s something my girl and I enjoy—we share it—”

The captain shook his head. “The things I never knew about you, Stephi.”

“But it’s harmless, sir, really. It’s just like a bit of wine, only more so. Just makes the night more fun, is all.”

“Still, we’d better check it. It might not be as harmless as you think. Did you get it from the same person this time as before?”

“Well, no, sir, I didn’t. But it’s a simple sort of thing—lots of the grannies sell it. I usually get it from one of the forest-folk tribes in Aarenis, but we were on the road here, and this little old lady asked did I want anything. I’m sure it’s all right, sir, and even if it’s not, I never took it.”

“Where is it?”

“With the rest of my things, in the saddlebags.”

“We’ll take a look.” The captain turned. “Now where has Venner gotten off to? Stephi, who knows where your things are?”

“Any of the men that came with me would know, or I could show you.”

“Stammel, why don’t you find them for us?”

“Yes, sir. Would you want one of the witnesses to come along?”

Sejek shook his head. “Not unless they want to.”

Stammel left the Duke’s Court and angled across the main courtyard to the stable. Stephi’s squad was hanging around the stable entrance, looking wary. He nodded to them.

“We need Stephi’s saddlebags,” he said. They looked sideways at each other.

“Sergeant—what’re they going to do? Stephi’s a good corporal—”

“I can’t say. We don’t know enough yet, and anyway it’s the Duke’s decision. Now—where are his things?”

A lanky private led the way into the smaller tack room. “That’s Stephi’s,” he said. “The first on that row.” Stammel lifted the saddlebags from their peg and turned toward the door.

“Come along,” he said, “and tell me who’s handled these things.”

“Nobody, sir; Stephi came in before supper from the Duke’s Court, and put his flask in with the rest, and nobody’s been at his things since that I know of.”

As Stammel came across the Duke’s Court toward the others, he saw Venner coming down the steps from the Hall. He wondered briefly where Venner had been, but dropped the thought as he handed the saddlebags to the captain.

“These are yours, Stephi?” asked the captain.

“Yes, sir. The flask will be in the right one, in a holder, and the potion bottle is in the left one, wrapped in my spare socks.”

They all watched as the captain opened the flaps of the saddlebags and took out the contents. He found the flask and set it aside, unopened for the moment. “It has liquid in it,” he said. “I can’t tell how much.” He began rummaging in the other saddlebags, removing a neatly rolled cloak and a comb, then a single sock, then another one, and finally a small cloudy-glass bottle with a glass stopper. “It wasn’t in the socks, Stephi,” he said as he slid out the stopper. “Phew! What a smell!” He looked up. “It’s empty.” He passed the bottle to the mayor, who sniffed, wrinkled his nose, and passed it to Kolya. She did the same before handing it to Stammel.

“Is this the same bottle?” he asked as he sniffed cautiously at the opening.

“Yes, sir. It looks like it. But it didn’t have a bad smell before. May I smell it now?”

“Go ahead,” said the captain. “But you wouldn’t have smelled it—looks like it had a wax seal around the stopper.”

Stephi sniffed the bottle. “It’s strange—but it reminds me of something. Just a little. Who could have emptied it?”

“One of your men says no one touched your things, but you, when you came out of the Duke’s Court yesterday,” said Stammel.

“But all I did was put the flask back. I didn’t open this bottle.”

“Let’s examine the flask,” said the captain. He opened it and looked in. “It’s not even half full, and the smell’s here, too.”

Again the witnesses checked for themselves. “If what made Corporal Stephi act unlike himself and forget what happened was in what he drank, then the evidence is that it came from this potion bottle,” said the mayor.

“But I didn’t open it,” Stephi repeated.

“You don’t remember opening it,” said Kolya. “If it was strong enough magic, you wouldn’t remember.”

“But I remember going in to supper after putting the flask away.”

“Stephi, are you sure you didn’t have a few more swallows of ale—after supper, maybe?” Captain Sejek sounded more tired than angry.

“Sir, I—I thought I was sure I’d never do anything like I must have done. I don’t think I drank any more—or opened the potion. But—how can I be sure? How can I be sure of anything?”

“Stephi—I don’t know.” Sejek sighed. “I believe that whatever you did was under some kind of outside influence. Right now that potion seems the likeliest to me—it wasn’t what you thought. The witnesses will have their own opinions—” He glanced at them.

“We still need the woman’s testimony—Paksenarrion’s,” said Kolya.

“From what Stammel said, I doubt it will help; but go ahead, of course.”

“I wonder if we can find out what the potion is,” said the mayor. “And I still have a concern for the Duke’s ale. Are we sure it is not contaminated? The smell in this bottle is suggestive, but—”

“We could seal it and hope it keeps until the Duke’s Court; he’ll have his mage there.”

“I’ve marked and sealed the cask,” Venner said. As they looked at him in surprise, he pursed his thin lips. “That’s why I went back inside. The entire cask will be available for examination at the trial.”

“All right, then,” said Sejek. “If you, Councilor Ministiera, will take Paksenarrion’s testimony, and gather such evidence as might be needed, the rest of us can get back to our business. Stammel—about Stephi’s parole—”

Stammel sighed. “Sir, I’ve known Stephi as long as you—and I trust him. But the recruits—especially my unit—won’t understand if you leave him free. They know that Paks was chained under ban last night. Korryn’s under ban now—”

“Sir, he’s right,” said Stephi. “I can’t believe that I went—crazy or something—and did that to anyone, but the evidence is against me. The troops won’t like it; they won’t understand it, if I’m not under guard.”

“I don’t say put him under ban,” said Stammel. “He’s cooperated, we think someone may have magicked him—so don’t ban him. But—”

“I see your point,” said Sejek, frowning. “Very well. Stephi, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to spend your time in the cell. I’ll be down to check on you, and you’re not under ban.”

“That’s all right, sir. I understand. I would like—if it’s possible—to know how the girl is, and if she’s well enough later, I’d like to—to apologize—”

“We’ll see, Stephi.” Sejek nodded to the guard, and they watched as Stephi was led back to the main court. The captain sighed heavily. “I’d like to get my hands on that granny, whoever she is. Tir’s gut, but that’s a fine soldier to be dumped in such trouble. Stammel, you’ll need to see to your unit, but I’d like to talk to you later.”

“Yes, sir. Any particular time?”

“Not until after lunch, at least. It’ll take me that long to settle my men and make some kind of written report of this. When you’ve time, check with me. I may have to put you off an hour or so, but I’ll try to be ready.”

“Yes, sir.” Stammel bowed slightly, and headed for the infirmary, tailing Kolya who was disappearing through the door.

Paksenarrion lay quietly as Maia cleaned and poulticed her thighs; a large cool poultice already covered the swollen half of her face. She’d been given a mug of beef broth and a half-mug of numbwine, and felt as if she were floating a handspan above the bed. She heard the door open, and saw Maia glance up.

“Well, Kolya; do you need to see her again?”

“If she’s able. What did the surgeon say?”

“She’ll mend. Her eye’s all right. She’s had numbwine; she’ll be drowsy and drifting a bit. Eh—Paks. Come on, Paks, wake up.”

Paks swallowed and tried to speak. Not much sound came out. She tried to look at Kolya, but found she couldn’t turn her head. Kolya suddenly appeared beside the bed. Paks blinked her good eye. She had not really looked at the witness before. Now she noticed black hair streaked with gray, black eyes, dark brows angled across a tan, weathered face. She blinked again, her eyes dropping to Kolya’s broad shoulders, her arm—the sleeve of her robe covered the stump of her left arm.

“She’s awake,” said Kolya. “So—they call you Paks, eh? I’m Kolya Ministiera, one of the witnesses. We need to take your testimony on this. Can you speak?”

Paks tried again and managed a hoarse croak.

“Water might help.” Kolya turned away and reappeared with a mug. “Can you hold the mug? Good. Now drink and try again.”

Paks took a swallow or two of water, gingerly felt the inside of her mouth with her tongue, and managed to say, “I can speak now, Lady.”

Kolya snorted. “I’m no ’lady,’ child: just a pensioned-off old soldier.”

“But—didn’t he say—you are on the Council?” Paks stumbled over the words. Even after numbwine, it hurt to move her mouth.

“That’s nothing but the Duke knowing I’m the Duke’s man still. No, I farm now, and raise apples. I’m no fine lady.”

“I—I didn’t know you were a soldier,” said Paks slowly, trying not to look for the missing arm.

“Yes—I was a corporal, same as Stephi, when I lost my arm. Don’t look so solemn, child. That was just bad luck—or good luck, if you like, that I lived. And the Duke’s treated me well: a grant of land, and a seat on the Council.”

Paksenarrion thought briefly of being as Kolya was, beyond warfare, pensioned off to a farm. She shivered. “But—what do I call you, if not lady?”

“Well, if you want to be formal, you could say Councilor Ministiera, but with you full of numbwine I doubt you’d get your tongue around that. Kolya’s fine. I won’t bite.”

“Yes—Kolya.”

“Now, Sergeant Stammel gave me the outline of your story, but I still have some questions for you. Had Corporal Stephi spoken to you at any time before he entered your barracks?”

“No—in fact, I didn’t really see him before. Only out of the corner of my eye as they rode in, and then Armsmaster Siger thumped me for not paying attention.”

Kolya chuckled. “With good cause. Take it from me, you never look aside when fighting. But you didn’t see him at supper?”

“No—I was talking to Saben.”

“I see. I understand that he showed up in your barracks and said he wanted to speak to you. Then he tried to get you to bed him, and tried to force you when you refused. Is that right?”

“Yes. He tried to push me down. Then when I said some things my cousin taught me, he put his hand over my mouth and I bit him. And that’s when he got very angry—”

“He hit you first with his belt, Stammel said—”

“And I tried to get past him and away. I really did, Kolya. I wasn’t trying to hurt him, or fight, just get away.”

“All right, calm down. He’d be too much for you, I imagine.”

Paks began to tremble again. “I—I couldn’t get free—and he was hitting me, again and again. I couldn’t get my breath, and someone was holding me, so I couldn’t hit back or get away, and—it hurt so much—” Tears ran down her face. “I—I’m sorry—I don’t mean to cry—”

“That’s all right. A hard beating takes it out of you.” Even in her misery, Paks noticed that Kolya spoke as someone who knew. “You’ll be all right in a few days. Paksenarrion, have you ever bedded anyone here?”

“No.” Paks fought against the sobs.

“Have you ever bedded anyone?”

“No—I never wanted to.”

Kolya sighed. “Paks, we need to know if you were raped as well as beaten—do you know?”

Paks shook her head. “I—I don’t know what it would be like. I know it hurts, but I don’t know what kind of hurt.”

“Well, then, we’ll have to take a look. Maia will help me, and I think another swallow of numbwine won’t hurt at all. If you sleep all day, so much the better.” Kolya fetched the flask of numbwine and poured some into the mug Paks held. “Drink all of that.” Paks swallowed, almost choking on the heavy, sweet wine. In a few minutes she felt a soft wave of sleep roll up around her, and drifted away, unknowing.

A few minutes later, Kolya left the infirmary, and almost fell over Stammel who was waiting at the door. “Well?” he asked harshly.

“No,” said Kolya. “She wasn’t. They put enough bruises on her, and if they’d had another two minutes—but as it is, she wasn’t raped. That may save Stephi’s hide—or some of it.”

“It won’t save Korryn’s,” said Stammel grimly. “That was a neat catch you made, Kolya.”

“Thanks. Some things I can still do. I agree you’re well rid of that one. I wonder if we’ll ever know which of them actually did what—probably not. I presume Korryn’s will be a public event.”

“Very. That—” Stammel growled and spat. “I can’t think of a word. Filth. I should have run him out weeks ago.”

Kolya tapped his arm. “Now, Matthis Stammel, you know you aren’t that kind. You had to have a good reason. I’d better go on and report to the others. Cheer up—she’ll be all right in a few days.”

“I hope so. She’s a good one, Kolya—almost as good as who she looks like—Tamarrion—if nothing goes wrong.”

Kolya looked thoughtful. “Does she? I couldn’t tell, with all those bruises. You know you can’t protect the good ones, Stammel; it ruins them in the long run.”

“I know. But this kind of thing—”

“If she’s that good it won’t stop her. Nothing stopped Tamarrion. Wait and see—I’d best go.”