The Prince of Lies: Night's Masque - Book 3 by Lyle Anne

Author:Lyle, Anne [Lyle, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Osprey Publishing
Published: 2013-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIX

Having found a sleepy page and put the fear of God into him, Mal swiftly examined the body before anyone could come and disturb the evidence. The bruises round Percy’s neck formed a series of small circular indentations, suggesting he had been strangled with a string of beads. A rosary perhaps, but if Mal’s suspicions were correct, more likely a spirit-guard. In which case, Josceline Percy was unlikely to be reborn to trouble them in future.

The question was, who had committed the murder, and how had they persuaded Percy to come here? Carrying a body through the palace would have been far too conspicuous. No, he must have come here on his own two feet, probably willingly, and been killed right here. Afterwards the murderer had stripped the corpse and carried away the clothing. That suggested he – and it seemed most likely to have been a man, since Percy was neither old nor feeble – had been disguised as a servant. Another of Olivia’s assassins? Or one of the English guisers, perhaps someone fearing that Percy had gone too far at the tournament and exposed them all. But then why leave it so long, and why leave his corpse in Prince Arthur’s bed? No, Olivia was the most likely culprit. Not that he could prove anything. Though he had no idea where the former courtesan had been all evening, he did not doubt she had been careful. She had survived too many intrigues in Venice to make a foolish mistake now.

His deliberations were interrupted by the arrival of several young courtiers, the same men who had hung back earlier and allowed Mal to escort the prince alone. Had they been bribed or coerced into doing so? It seemed too much of a coincidence otherwise – and he had walked right into the trap. Or perhaps he had just been a convenient scapegoat, and one of them would have had to draw the short straw if he had not turned up.

“What’s going on here? Your Highness?” The Earl of Rutland strode across the chamber and halted with a curse, his yellow mustachios bristling. “What is this wickedness?”

“We found him like this,” Mal said. “I found him–”

Rutland’s eyebrows twitched. “Catlyn again. Well, well.”

Time to take charge of the situation, before Rutland ordered his arrest.

“If His Highness’s servants and gentlemen of the chamber had not all abandoned him, this might not have happened,” Mal said, look round the assembled courtiers. “Whose turn was it to wait upon the Prince tonight?”

“Well, I…” Rutland looked put out. “I was under the impression that His Highness wished to be alone–”

“As did we all,” another young man put in.

“In any case the servants are always here to attend him,” Rutland said. “It is they who should be called to account.”

“I am sure they shall,” Mal said. “But first someone needs to take care of the Prince. I’m sure there must be other bedchambers where His Highness can be made comfortable for the night.”

“Of course,” replied Rutland.

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