Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1) (11 page)

“You humans and your flowery talk. This is a reconnaissance. One done in force!”

“Why now?”

“We saw the movement of your griffin troops. We saw your party enter the grove. I was curious. So why did
you
come, Lord Regent?”

Unbelievable. This horse’s ass was a carbon copy in attitude to Behnaz and Vazura. Each saw the other side moving, which justified their moving, and so on. Of course, that was when I got thrown into the middle of it all.

“We came on the request of Lady Dayna Chrissie. She is from another world, one where she solves crimes such as the murder of our lord. A murder in which you and your people appear to be at fault.”

“We? At fault?” Angbor huffed. “You two-legged freaks of nature are even less intelligent than I thought.”

“Really? How did a thought get lodged in that bone head of yours?”

I didn’t see this going anywhere productive, so I spoke up.

“Maybe you can enlighten me instead,” I said. My knees shook a little, but I did my best to hide it. This damn sure wasn’t like facing down Bob McClatchy. McClatchy didn’t have a blade strapped to his side that looked like an extra-large meat cleaver.

Or the attitude to use it on anyone he felt like.

“King Angbor, did you see Benedict on his last day?”

“I did, curse his name.” At that, an angry mutter came from the rank and file of the Andeluvians. “I and my patrol came to meet him, as usual, in this grove. I am not fond of humans, either by sight or smell. But I respected Benedict. Or I did, until that day!”

“Okay, so you met him here.”

“That we did. A short meeting it was.”

“What about the other man? The ambassador with him?”

Angbor stared at me for a moment. He shook his head ruefully. “You’re daft as a gamecock, little woman. Benedict came alone.”

“You didn’t see anyone—”

“I’m not blind,” he snapped. “Benedict seemed healthy enough, for one as close to being an ale sop as he. And how did he use his health? To denounce me, and the centaur peoples! To threaten us with war! I did not kill Benedict. But had I thought him a lesser man, his head would’ve adorned my lance that day!”

Back to the severed head thing. I had a feeling that Angbor didn’t play well with others, even as a little kid. Little pony, whatever.

“You’re a liar and a murderer,” Vazura spat. “No sooner did you leave this grove than I arrived and found our King’s body lying on the ground!”

“Our ruler does not lie!” One of the centaurs, a red-haired stallion with the markings of a pinto, advanced a step in anger. “With but a word from Angbor, we’d chop our way through you as if we were plowing our fields!”

“Why not try?” Behnaz said, his voice dripping with venom. “The griffins have sharpened their claws. And they haven’t eaten yet.” As if to drive the point home, his griffin mount made a sound between a feline hiss and the high-pitched scream of a hawk.

“Well, King Angbor,” Kajari said, “do you really think that you have the upper hand? We could play this out right now. Trial by combat, as in the olden times. Before our civilized ways of today. Before the Good King assumed the throne.”

The air filled with the terrible sound of steel being drawn from leather scabbards. The humans drew their weapons in time with a terrible feline hiss from the griffins. A feral gleam shone from the creatures’ unblinking yellow eyes.

The centaurs fell into a battle line. Instead of yanking their lances from the ground, the centaurs pulled out pairs of wicked-looking swords. They held one weapon in each massive hand. The wavy patterns in their sword blades reflected the last failing light of the evening.

Damn it all!

My eyes flicked back and forth across the clearing. No one—not Duke Kajari, not Lord Behnaz, and sure as hell not King Angbor—was going to put a stop to the madness before it engulfed everyone. I felt my pulse hammering, threatening to burst from my wrists in arterial spurts.

I didn’t know what to do.

“But I’m sure as hell not going to freeze up again,” I muttered under my breath.

And with that, I stepped out into the space between Kajari and Angbor.

“
All right! That’s enough from all of you!
”

My announcement hit like a clap of thunder on a quiet, sunlit day. Not that anyone put away their weapons. But almost to a person, they blinked or stared. The points of the swords dipped ever so slightly. I had their attention for the moment, so I ran with it.

“I’m a stranger to this world,” I said, loud enough for everyone in the clearing to hear me. “I’ve got no axe to grind for Andeluvia, or with the Centaur Kingdom. But if all of you want to prove who’s toughest, who can piss the farthest, be my guest. Just go do it somewhere else!”

That got a smattering of laughter out of the warriors. It cut the tension a little. So far so good.

“Why should we do that?” Captain Vazura demanded.

“Because you’re all interfering with my ability to do my
job
.”

Another laugh from the assembled men and stallions. This time it was King Angbor who spoke.

“And for what reason should we listen to you?”

“If I can’t do my work, then I can’t prove your innocence, King Angbor.”

The sounds of muttering broke out. Kajari remained quiet, his face a stony mask. Angbor barked a command to his troops and they went silent.

“You’re trying to prove my people’s innocence?”

“No, Angbor. I’m trying to find out who murdered Good King Benedict.” I inclined my head towards him as I added, “But I believe you. You had no part in Benedict’s death.”

Now the sounds of murmuring escalated into shouts and frenzied discussion. Both Angbor and Behnaz now had to order their troops to quiet down. The centaur king looked me over again, much as Kajari had before.

“There is more steel to you than first appears, woman.”

“There’s more when it’s needed,” I said. “And I need something more from you in turn.”

“What might that be?”

I took a deep breath and spoke one more time.

Chapter Twelve

Maybe standing at the verdant green heart of the Grove of the Willows actually did something to me. Perhaps there was something sacred, something magical about it. All I knew was that I had no trouble standing my ground in front of the King of the Centaur Realm. My mind felt razor sharp and laser focused.

The Andeluvian nobles—at least some of them—had a thin skein of courtliness I could play off of. Not Angbor. He personified the medieval Viking, a ten-foot tall mountain of muscle, sinew, armor, and bad attitude.

So I spoke my mind. Plainly. Bluntly.

“Call this off, Angbor. Stop this before it all ends in fire.”

A mix of emotions played across his face. He absently rubbed one of his beard plaits in thought. Angbor let out a sigh. Coming from such a large, deep-throated creature, the sigh sounded more like the release of a truck’s air brakes.

“No,” he rumbled. “Honor must be paid.”

I heard what sounded like a squawk of agreement from one of the griffins, but I didn’t turn to look. I focused on what Angbor had to say.

“But–”

“
No
, Lady Dayna Chrissie. You know now that we centaurs have been unjustly accused. I cannot relent until that accusation is dropped. Until recompense paid—by treasure. Or by blood.”

“Father, be reasonable,” Galen said. He trotted up next to me, hands out, beseeching. “I have lived among the humans. I have learned much from them. They are different, true, but it does not mean we cannot study–”

“You have done more than ‘live’ among humans!” Angbor spat, his thoughtful moment vanishing like dew in the sun. The veins in his neck stood out as he raised his voice. “You have forsaken our way! You cringe and stoop and wheedle your way with them. And for what? Magic! The last refuge of those of rotten minds and arms too weak to swing a sword!”

“Yes, my sire, I have dedicated my life to my studies! But I did not forsake our way. I did not forsake the understanding of power.”

Galen hurriedly slipped off the strap holding the locked satchel he’d brought along. His hands betrayed a small tremble as he offered it up.

“I’ve bound all of my writings together,” he said, urgently, as if trying to press his words into his father’s mind. “They list magic, to be sure, but all for the good! Spells to find ore, to help crops grow, to mend rent armor, to–”

Angbor’s arm came up. He swung it in a vicious arc. The back of his hand smashed Galen across the face.

A meaty
smack
echoed through the clearing.

Blood flew in a thin spray from Galen’s nose. The wizard staggered back a few paces. He hung his head, slipped the satchel under one arm, and turned away.

Duke Kajari stood nearby. He scowled at me in a manner that Bob McClatchy would’ve applauded, and then tried his best to emulate. I started to speak, but the Duke cut me off.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this little family drama, it has no bearing as to what’s at stake,” Kajari said sharply. “You may believe that the centaurs are innocent. I am not convinced.”

“Nor I!” called Behnaz. Vazura nodded agreement by bobbing his head like a loyal mastiff.

I gritted my teeth. “But can’t you see? This doesn’t add up at all!”

“Save your breath, woman,” Angbor said, though not unkindly. “It is wasted on fools. Fools who sit in court or play with magic, while others make or take what they need by their own hands! Why not go out and stop the tides instead? Go out and stop winter from coming, while you’re at it.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” I said, facing him squarely. “If you know you’re innocent, then you can damn well help me prove it. Give me some help to find Benedict’s real killer.”

Angbor smiled then. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to see. It felt like I’d been sized up by a hungry grizzly bear.

“You need a centaur to help? So be it. Take my worthless son. He’ll be of no use on the battlefield. Unless he wants to help mourn for the dead.”

And with that parting shot, Angbor trotted back towards his patrol. The centaurs sheathed their weapons, pulled their lances from the ground, and left the Grove of the Willows at a gallop. Kajari and the rest of the Andeluvians didn’t take their hands off their weapons until the sound of hoofbeats faded in the distance.

Galen half-walked, half-stumbled out of the clearing in the other direction.

“That went well,” Kajari said dryly.

“It sure as hell did. No one got killed.” I looked towards where Galen had left. “One badly wounded, though.”

“What makes you so sure that Angbor’s innocent?”

“Simple. Lack of motive.”

“Lack of motive?” Kajari demanded, “I take it you heard King Angbor’s words. He’d have our entrails cast upon the ground if he wanted to.”

“If he
wanted
to,” I shot back. “Angbor was specific. If Benedict had been a lesser man, Angbor would have killed him that last day. In other words, he had a great deal of respect for the Good King. Obviously, he preferred to deal with Benedict over you, Lord Behnaz, or me. I don’t see a motive to kill him off.”

“What of the foreign ambassador, then?”

“I don’t know. If he got here after Benedict, then Vazura’s men should have seen him arrive. But if he got here before, why didn’t the centaurs see him?”

“Perhaps he was in league with the assassin. They had a falling out, he was killed, and then stashed in the woods before Benedict met Angbor.”

“Or King Angbor is lying through his horsey face,” Behnaz said sourly.

“Funny you should say that,” I replied. “Your man Vazura said this ‘ambassador’ you found was killed by sword cuts and a firebolt from a magic staff. He called them centaur weapons, but he’s wrong. They’re
Andeluvian
weapons. But Benedict’s murder used a weapon from
my
world. Why?”

Kajari made a slight shrug under his mantle. “It could be that the murderer hired someone from your world. To keep their hands free of blood.”