The Bard's Tales: A Fell Purpose
Chapter 1
Author's Note: I'm a mystery lover, particularly the classic British parlor mysteries (Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers are my two favorites). So it was inevitable that I'd try my hand at a mystery. Apologies to fans of those two remarkable women if I fail to live up to their example (which is also inevitable).
A warning to my frequent reviewers, whom I adore: there's not a lot of romance in this, and not a lot of action, either. (It's not like there's a lot of swordplay and snogging in Murder At The Vicarage, after all). It's a rather thinky piece, though I did try to throw an occasional bone to all you Richard/Kahlan loveydoviness fans. (No disparagement intended--as anyone who read The Blessed Sun can probably tell.)
Summary: Our heroic trio is caught up in a mystery when a Resistance leader dies under suspicious circumstances just before an important battle with the D'Harans.
Disclaimer: Kahlan, Zedd and Richard aren't mine. Any similarities to show episodes, mystery novels and/or Remington Steele are entirely the butler's fault. You want money, see him.
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"To the day Darken Rahl's rule over the Midlands ends!" Hugh Marsters said, raising his glass. The other men in the room nodded, clinking their glasses together and drinking heartily.
"And may that day be hastened by our efforts in the next ten days," Victor Thorpe added, and there was another round of clinks and swallows.
"Now, gentlemen, to business," Marsters said. He leaned over a small table set before the fire and pointed at a spot on the map laid out there, a spot a few hours' ride from where they sat in Hugh's home, Crutchley Manor. "This is where I think we should make our stand. We draw the D'Harans through here," he drew his finger across a small valley with thick forest along its flanks, "so they won't be able to take full advantage of their numbers." He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his hand absently across his mustache. "Any thoughts?"
Stuart Addington seemed nervous, studying the map carefully, but Thorpe didn't hesitate. "What if we kept back a reserve, holding them here?" He pointed to a small draw screened by a forested area just west of the spot Marsters had pointed out. "When the D'Harans attack, we could draw them forward by feigning a retreat. Then, when they follow, the reserve comes in behind. We'd have them encircled. And if they don't take the bait, the reserve is still in position to hit their flank."
Marsters grinned at Thorpe, then coughed. He took another breath. "That's why you're here, Victor. That's brilliant." He coughed again, and frowned.
"Is something wrong, Hugh?" Victor said.
Hugh shook his head, but he didn't answer. He had his hand to his chest, and he seemed to be breathing hard.
"Sit down, Hugh," Barris Talbot said, taking Hugh's arm and guiding him to a chair near the fire. He sat heavily in it, leaning forward, his hands on his knees and still breathing rapidly.
"Is there a healer near?" Victor asked Arthur Cray, another of the Resistance leaders in the room.
Arthur looked surprised. "No, not really. A half-hour's ride, at least."
"Go," Victor said, kneeling in front of Hugh. His lips were turning blue, and he looked almost frightened. When Arthur hesitated, Victor stood quickly and grabbed his shoulder. "Look at him, man! He needs help! Go!"
Cray ran from the room, and Victor turned back to Hugh just in time to see him pitch forward out of the chair. He lay motionless on the floor before the fire, his eyes half-closed. Victor knelt at his side, stunned at how quickly the situation had changed. He put his face near Hugh's, and felt a faint breath, but that breath wasn't followed by another.
Victor sat up, feeling helpless, looking around at the others, hoping one of them would have some idea what to do.
"Is he--?" Graydon Barber began, then stopped, unwilling to voice the question everyone in the room was thinking.
Victor looked back down at Hugh, and there was no life in his eyes. "He's gone," he said. And that means I'm in charge now, he thought to himself, and pushed aside the feeling of dread that accompanied the thought. He looked back down at Hugh's body, grim-faced. I'll do my best to live up to your example, Hugh. "Go tell his wife. And send word to the Seeker. We'll need the services of the Mother Confessor."
"The Confessor?" Graydon said, surprised. "You think he was murdered?"
"We're about to go into the largest battle the Resistance has fought against the D'Harans," Victor said. "Do you really want to do that worrying about whether you can trust the man next to you?"
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A week later, Kahlan, Richard and Zedd rode into the courtyard of Crutchley Manor in a torrential downpour, which seemed somehow appropriate for the situation. They'd been relatively close when they got the word that Hugh Marsters was dead, but it was still amazing they'd been able to get the message so quickly. Bad news travels fast, Richard thought, and Hugh Marsters' death was the worst news possible. He'd been a crucial Resistance leader, which was why the plans for a major assault on the D'Harans had centered on him. This is the worst possible time to lose him, Richard thought.
Victor Thorpe met them at the door. "Thank you for coming so quickly," he said. "We don't have much time left. The D'Harans will be arriving for the campaigning season soon, and we have to hit them before they have a chance to do any more damage here."
Thorpe led them in to the great hall, where they were offered blankets to dry off with. Kahlan took the opportunity to study both their surroundings, and the man who'd met them. The hall was dark and slightly oppressive, in spite of the roaring fire in the great fireplace at one end. There was a cluster of chairs placed near the fire, along with a few small tables. The rest of the hall was dominated by an enormous table surrounded by high-backed chairs. The overall impression was one of wealth, but not so much as to be ostentatious.
Victor Thorpe, however, carried a different impression. To tell the truth, Kahlan thought, he doesn't leave much impression at all. He was tall, but not to an extreme like Zedd. His hair and beard were a chestnut brown, and his eyes were dark. His voice had been a pleasant baritone when he spoke, but even that hadn't carried the crack of authority Kahlan was used to hearing in many of the Resistance leaders.
But in spite of his mild appearance and manner, Kahlan still got a sense of quiet competence from Victor Thorpe. He'll need it, she thought. Hugh Marsters left big shoes to fill. Though just the fact that Marsters had placed enough confidence in Thorpe to make him second in command of the Resistance in the critically important Fenton Valley spoke volumes about his capability. Hugh had been a master at finding strong, intelligent men to lead the Resistance.
Victor was waiting for them to get settled. She nodded to him, and he guided them to sit before the fire. "You can get warm here while we talk about the…situation," he said, looking tired.
"We know the rough outline--that Hugh died under somewhat suspicious circumstances. Tell us how it happened," Kahlan said, and despite the gentle tone to her voice, it was clear to everyone in the room that her investigation had begun.
Victor nodded. "We'd all met for dinner--Hugh, myself, Stuart, Arthur, Barris and Graydon," he began.
"Who served you the dinner?" Kahlan asked, mentally filing away the names.
"Hugh's servants. His cook, Neala, prepared it, and his butler, Aylwin, served us."
"Did Hugh eat or drink anything different from the rest of you?" Zedd asked.
"I don't think so. And I don't think there's any way his meal could have been poisoned by anyone there. We were together through the whole meal." Victor frowned. "I don't think the servants could have done it either, because the meal was stew to start with, followed by roast beef, which was carved for us at the table. And we all drank from the same two bottles of wine. One of us would have been bound to get poisoned along with Hugh if any of those things had been the source."
Kahlan was at once impressed by Victor's careful analysis of the situation and relieved. It was quickly becoming clear to her that Victor Thorpe wasn't hiding anything from her. Thank the spirits, she thought. The last thing we need right now is a question of leadership. But it still left the bigger question unanswered: who had actually killed Hugh Marsters?
"We discussed our plans for the upcoming attack on the D'Harans over dinner," Victor was saying, and he gestured over at the great table, "mostly dealing with the logistics of getting the men together and preparing for the battle." He sighed. "Frankly, we're running out of time. We are meeting with a few of the key resistance leaders tomorrow in advance of the rendezvous with the full army the day after that. We'll be mustering the army for a day, and then, if the D'Harans cooperate, the battle will take place four days from now."
Richard looked over at Kahlan. That doesn't leave us much time at all to figure this out, he thought, and she was clearly thinking the same thing.
"After we finished eating, we sat in front of the fire for a bit," Victor continued, "talking more about the battle plans themselves, and drinking more wine." He smiled sadly. "Hugh loved a good wine," he said quietly. He took a deep breath. "That's when it happened. He seemed to be having trouble breathing, he coughed a couple of times, then he collapsed. His lips turned blue, and he lost consciousness. We sent for a healer, but by the time he arrived, Hugh was gone."
Zedd was frowning, and Kahlan was about to ask him what it was, but Richard stepped in. "Was there anyone else at the manor that night?"
Victor shook his head. "Well, not at the time we were eating dinner. Glynis and Vera arrived during dinner, but they both went to their rooms after getting here."
"Glynis and Vera?" Richard prompted.
"Vera Marsters, Hugh's wife. And Glynis is Will Haviland's wife." Kahlan noticed a change in his tone and a greater tension in his face when Victor spoke of Glynis Haviland, but she couldn't tell what it meant. "Will is my second in command. He was gone that day--we'd sent him out to scout the area we were planning for the ambush. He left that morning, along with Bryce Marsters, Hugh's brother. He went out to try to recruit more men."
"Where's the glass he was drinking from?" Zedd asked suddenly.
"Hugh?" Victor said, confused at the sudden change of subject. "At dinner, or after?"
"After," Zedd said, and Kahlan looked over at him and noted the hint of a smug smile. He knows how it was done, she thought, grateful once again for the wizard's many skills. Not that she was about to tell him that. His ego's already big enough, she thought.
Victor frowned. "I'm not sure. Everything was so chaotic. I'm sure the one from dinner had been washed up before…well, before it happened. But I don't know about the second one. I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Zedd said. "It probably doesn't matter. The symptoms only match one poison I'm familiar with. And it's fairly easily acquired." He looked over at Kahlan, raising his eyebrows significantly. "But it also means that it's very likely the person who did it was in that room when Hugh died."