Murder of the Belvedere Eye

Chapter Three

3- Dorlien Reddarm

Dorlien Reddarm’s room was in the eastern wing. Lord Harlen’s son, Belham, led me out of the gardens and back into the house, through a door covered with ivy.

“Charles coming down?” He asked.

“Why?”

“Because if he jumps, and my father’s put to the gallows, I’m supposed to take up his seat. And nobody wants that.”

“Why does everyone think he’s going to jump?”

“His affliction with the seeress is not a secret.”

“How many people know?”

“Anyone who has a room with a garden facing window. They couple on the stone, and think a shag blanket suffices for deep cover.”

“Royalty have a hard time realizing they are not the only people in the world.”

“Last summer she was hosted at Lord Juvian’s estate. Every morning she’d be yelling out like a cock crowing sunrise. A painter was invited to stay, and over the season he painted the two coupling. The painter was dumped in the sewage pit beyond the grounds, but it is said that his work hangs above Lady Juvian’s bed.”

“Who would want to kill the seeress?”

“Near everyone who talks to her. She’s not kind. A man wants to know if he’ll hang for a murder, and she’ll tell him that he’ll be swinging beside his sons. A woman wants to know if her child will live, and the seeress will tell the mother the smell of the babe’s final breath.”

“I wonder if she saw her death.”

“You’d have to ask Charles about that. She didn’t speak of herself to anyone but him and her crack doctor.”

“Is the doctor in the dining hall?”

“I would suppose so. A seeress’s eyes go for many gold bits, Street Cat.”

We came to an arched wooden door. Lord Harlen’s son knocked on the door. He walked back towards the main hall.

The door cracked open. “Oh, now’s not a good time-”

I showed her Lord Harlen’s medallion.

#

Dorlien hugged a tiger fur around her stomach and legs. The room smelled of onions and two silver perfumes.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she said, adjusting her coverings. There was a small fire in the fireplace. She sat on a footstool in front of a chair. A bed was pressed up against the wall. A little desk was cluttered with make-up and oils.

“Want me to build it up?” I asked, looking into the fire.

“Sure.”

I got up and added all the wood to the stand. It crackled and shot embers up the chimney. The room illuminated as if it were day.

“I know why you are here,” she said.

“Why does it smell like onions in here?”

“Charles finds unique punishments for my digressions. I spent the day in the kitchen peeling onions. Oil of onion seems to have set deep in my skin.”

“And your digression was?”

“I happened to talk poorly of the seeress. I called her a waste of time. Charles has this attachment to her that I cannot understand. She’s sulky, always in some kind of a mood. He brings me away from my family every summer to go lolling with the girl.”

“Seems you’ll be able to go back to your family.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she said. She looked over her shoulder and sighed. “I feel bad for the girl. She was making her way as best she could. Who could turn down a lusty king-brother? But I miss my husband and my children. He has to be the mother when I’m gone, fixing dresses and doing the washing in the river.” She adjusted and a bare leg slipped out from beneath the blanket. It was smooth and well-muscled, ending in a foot that was trimmed and soft. She unfolded the blanket from her stomach. The fire was heating the room like an oven. “I worry about the other wives and their daughters. He’d be the only man going down to wash…”

“Where did you get the wine?”

“Excuse me?”

“The gift of wine for the seeress.”

“Its private stock from the king’s cellar. We brought six cases with us. She drinks a bottle a day, if you’d believe it. Not even the king has Gooj White more than twice a summer.”

“Do you go get the bottle by yourself?”

“A guard accompanies me, to make sure I don’t run off with a case. It’s locked, and only I and the commander have the key.”

“Glastius?”

“Yes.”

“Who do you think killed Ezema?”

“My coin is on the doctor.”

“The doctor?”

“Yes. Everyone knows the price for her eyes has peaked. The magicians in the south are paying double before the pirates start their winter raids. He conferences with southern magicians as we speak.”

“It wasn’t Glastius?”

She snorted.

“So, you admit to giving poisoned wine to Charles.”

“Poison?”

“The bottle that the king-brother brought to the Eye was poisoned.”

 Darlien’s head snapped back. “Oh, gods!” Sweat ran down her long neck.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing-”

She eyed the medallion.

“I did not know the bottle was poisoned.” She clawed damp hair away from her face.

“That seems to be a small answer for a big reaction.”

“I complain about the king-brother, yes, but I would have nothing without him. He drinks the wine with the girl, and if it was poisoned, he would die with her. The thought of me bringing him poison…”

“It is not looking so good for you, Darlien.”

“You must believe me! I would never harm Charles. I did not like the girl. True. But I would never think of such evil!”

“Poison is a woman’s weapon.”

“She was stabbed with a knife, was she not?”

“Then the wine must have been assurance. Who would have wanted the king-brother dead?”

“Charles?”

“How do you pick the bottle for each day?”

“I have instructions. Each bottle is worth more than a gold bit. Each crate is numbered. I take from front to back, left to right. The king-brother brought enough to last into winter, even though the seer only stays for the season.”

“Then the murderer could have timed the poison.”

She looked over her shoulder. I followed the line of her eyes. On the desk, near the bed, two goblets sat.

“You have a friend at the estate,” I said.

“Nothing serious.”

I went to the cups and sniffed.

“Gooj White. You worry so much about your husband, perhaps you should be worrying about yourself.”

“I worry because my husband knows nothing of a woman’s greed! Those who live among him are hawks. I will not return quickened, but perhaps when I come back, I’ll find the neighbor’s son growing his curly hair. Do not judge me, Street Cat!”

“Who is this man of iron?”

“Tellard.”

“Perhaps he has feelings for you.”

“I doubt it. He is too simple. He has his own family.”

“You complain to him about the seer and the king-brother, do you not?”

“I do. But he never listens. All he asks is long I’ll be staying.”

“Perhaps he acted out to please you.”

“I am not pleased! I can account for where he was last night and this afternoon, but cannot account for his place this morning. I was attending the king-brother. There is a problem though. The wine was sealed at the palace.”

“The wax looked fresh.”

“The wine is stored in urns the size of this pitiful room. It gets bottled before it leaves. The wax will look bright until the year passes by. Nobody has the king’s stamp but his cellar man.”

“Would someone at the capitol want Charles dead?”

“Sure. He is close to his brother and mother. He holds much sway. Many people do not enjoy his presence there. It wouldn’t be unexpected. Perhaps the poisoner was the man who delivered the bottles. Perhaps it was the servant who was sent to wipe the dust from the bottles. Perhaps every other bottle in the crate is poisoned.”

“Charles thinks it was a servant who killed her.”

“It could have been. Gods it’s hot in here…”

“Would you be able to point out your man?”

“There’s no need. You know him.”

“I know him?”

“That’s right,” Darlien sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Her fur fell to the ground. Sweat ran down the curves of her body. “Tellard Glastius, commander of the Harlen’s guard. He left not an hour before you arrived. You can find him at the front of the grounds. He lives at the gate house. He sleeps there every night.”