The Murder Mystery In The Valley
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
“We have a problem.”
I walked into the meeting room at the top of the tower. A table was set up in the middle with maps of the surrounding area, along with stacks and stacks of paper. I had just returned from talking to my uncle about the situation in High Rock. My aunt was still asleep upstairs. She’d been working late again for some reason.
It wasn’t easy to find time alone when we were both in this city. And now that she didn’t seem to be sleeping as much anymore, I often found myself too tired after dinner to do anything but return to my room and go straight to bed. It was a good thing I hadn’t gotten used to being so busy yet; otherwise, it would have been hard on me.
As it was, even now I was feeling the effects of having spent all day among people. But I didn’t want to bother them by asking if they wanted me to join their meetings tonight.
One man looked up from his papers, “What is it?” he asked. He had an odd accent—not quite a noble’s or a commoner’s, but not really one of either. The family who owned this castle was mixed in a way that made it difficult to tell where any particular member fell within the hierarchy. They had money enough, though, that the lower classes couldn’t afford to ignore them entirely.
“There are rumors,” I said, lowering myself into my chair, “that there is trouble brewing between the towns to the north and south of here.”
Someone else cleared her throat behind me. It was a woman from House Crestfallen, the same house whose daughter was currently in the dungeons, awaiting trial for murder. I’d met her before. She seemed nice.
“That sounds bad,” she said. “But what can we do? We don’t control our borders. If someone wants to cross them illegally, there isn’t much we can do.”
I thought for a moment. Then I turned around. “I think I might know how to help you out.”
She smiled a little. “You’re more than welcome to try, I suppose.”
A man with an elegant beard spoke up then. He had sat quietly until now, but after I’d begun to speak he jumped right in. “My lord.” He bowed low. “Do you mean to tell us that you can stop these bandits once and for all?”
His voice was slightly higher-pitched than others, and his accent was smoother and richer. The kind of accent reserved for those who could afford the best tutors in learning the finer points of speaking like a cultured person.
I gave him a look. “Not exactly. But I think I’ve got a way to make them less dangerous.”
They all looked at me expectantly.
“If you want me to explain it properly, I need a map—” I realized suddenly that I hadn’t actually had time to study my own maps since I arrived. I gathered one from the pile of papers and laid it flat on the table.
“All right,” I began, pointing to the southern edge of the valley. “Here’s the border. It’s only about thirty miles long. But this is the most heavily traveled part because it’s the route through which the road from Solitude meets the highway to Daggerfall. The bandits are going to be crossing that highway near here.”
“Where?”
“Right over there,” I pointed to a spot just down the hillside from the road. “And the only place where they can cross that easily is that stream.” I showed them a faint line in the landscape on my map.
No one had ever bothered to mark the location of the stream. Apparently, it was simply something that happened naturally. “But that’s not your biggest problem,” I continued. “Your biggest problem is that the bandits will have a clear path of escape to the west. They’ll be able to slip away without being pursued.”
I traced another line across the map. This one led from the stream back toward the mountain range, eventually passing through a small lake. From there, the bandits could enter the mountains and disappear completely.
“So?”
I blinked and turned around. One of the men—he was probably the head of the family—was sitting on the bench next to mine. He looked very concerned. “Um, yes. So,” I repeated. “The bandits won’t be able to get away.”
“How do you figure that?” the man asked. “They’re thieves. They can vanish in an instant, can’t they?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “But they wouldn’t be able to do that if they were pursued by soldiers. And if they lose their escape route, then no matter how fast they move, they can’t run far enough.”
He frowned. “Why should we care?”
“Because, sir,” I said, inclining my head slightly, “you’re responsible for protecting the people from bandits.”
“We are?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yes. You must protect them.”
“Of course, my lady. Of course.” He stood up abruptly as if he wished to end the meeting. “Thank you for your concern, Lady Faran. You may leave now.”
“Wait,” I said. He stopped. I took a breath. “Have you taken any steps to protect yourself against bandits?”
“Well…yes, of course.” His face went red. “But nothing to prevent them from getting away.”
I nodded. “Then you should take some precautions. Make sure that every soldier in the castle is armed and ready. Have them form a perimeter around the castle. Make sure they patrol the roads leading here.”
He hesitated. Then he glanced at the other men in the room. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll take some precautions. Perhaps you can return tomorrow night.”
I smiled. “Of course. Thank you for the opportunity to work with you.”
I rose and bowed slightly. As soon as I straightened up, I heard someone clear her throat behind me. It was the same Crestfallen lady who had spoken earlier.
“Excuse me,” she said, “but did you say you would help us with our problems? If so, what do you plan to do?”
I paused. “I don’t know yet. But I’m going to go talk to Lord Mender first.” I turned to go, but she called out again.
“What?”
I sighed. “All right. But I can’t promise anything.”
***
Lord Mender was in his private room, sitting alone at the end of a long table. There were piles of maps on the table before him, and scrolls everywhere else. Some were rolled into cylinders; others lay open on the table, their contents written upon in ink. I recognized some of the names on those scrolls. All of them belonged to famous heroes and great leaders of the people.
There were two guards outside the door, and three more inside. Even though Lord Mender was a wealthy man, he was still considered too powerful to be left unguarded. If anyone wanted to kill him, they’d have to overcome both the guards and his personal bodyguards.
His secretary was waiting for me when I entered. She was a middle-aged woman wearing a dress much like the ones that the women wore in my own lands. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and the wrinkles on her forehead gave the impression of old age. She bowed politely and gestured for me to sit.
“Welcome, my lady,” she said. “Please, have a seat.”
I did so, taking a chair by the table. My servants followed my lead and settled themselves nearby. None of them appeared especially pleased. This didn’t surprise me. I’d been working with Lord Mender for several months. Every time I visited the castle, I found myself serving him.
It was always the same: I’d arrive at his office, and Lord Mender would tell me to bring him all the documents I could find. The letters I read aloud were usually filled with complaints about this or that problem in Crestfallen. Most of the complaints came from noble families complaining about taxes.
Sometimes Lord Mender would write replies, and sometimes he’d ask me to find information on the subject. At other times, he would order me to prepare reports for the council meetings held once each week.
Sometimes it was hard work, but there was something oddly satisfying about bringing one complaint after another to Lord Mender’s attention. Once he understood the problem, he’d take steps to correct it. He would try to appease the noble families, or issue orders for the army to deal with the bandits. It was good work, and I enjoyed it.
Lord Mender himself wasn’t easy to please. But I think I liked him better than the other lords of Crestfallen. They were all too concerned with their own petty concerns. Lord Mender, on the other hand, was interested in the welfare of the people. At least, that was the impression he tried to give.
But I couldn’t help wondering why he bothered. What could the lord of Crestfallen possibly offer a kingdom as large as the Kingdom of Arria? Nothing, I suppose. But Lord Mender seemed to genuinely care about the people. I supposed I shouldn’t judge too quickly. After all, I hadn’t lived in Crestfallen for very long.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I said. “I just wanted to see you, Lord Mender.”
She inclined her head. “As you wish, my lady. Please wait.” She walked over to a bookshelf along the wall and selected a book. She returned to the table and handed the book to me. It was entitled The History of Crestfallen. I took it, surprised. I’d never seen any history books in Lord Mender’s library. “This is yours?” I asked.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She looked down at the book.
“Yes, my lady. I’ve been reading it today. You should read it sometime, too.”
When she didn’t reply, I continued. “It tells the story of how the town grew. And also tells of you, and your father.”
Lady Rella frowned.
“Why are you frowning?” I asked. “You’re the author, aren’t you?”
She shook her head. “Lord Mender wrote the book. He commissioned me to write the story, and then he had it printed.”
“But the title says ‘By Lady Rella.'”
“That’s because I edited and arranged the contents. Lord Mender added nothing.”
“Then why do you keep calling yourself the author?”
“Because Lord Mender made me. He told me I couldn’t call myself anything else. So I called myself ‘author,’ and he said that was fine.”
“My lady,” I said, “you can choose whatever name pleases you. You don’t need his permission.”
“He has some strange notions about authorship, that’s all. The book isn’t mine; it belongs to Lord Mender.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that he calls you ‘author’?”
“Not really.” Lady Rella smiled. “I’m just relieved that he finally recognized my talent. For years now, no one thought I could write.” She tapped the cover of the book with her fingers. “Now I know I can.”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “You certainly are talented.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Do you still work for Lord Mender?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Every day, I bring him more complaints. But I sometimes wonder if he ever does anything about it.”
“I doubt it,” I said. “I suspect Lord Mender likes to hear about the problems in Crestfallen. But when it comes to solving the issues, he’s not so keen.”
She sighed. “I don’t mean to complain, my lady. Lord Mender is a good man. I admire him. He does what he thinks is best for Crestfallen. I just wish someone else would be given the chance to rule Crestfallen. Perhaps they’d do a better job.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Lord Mender might seem like an incompetent ruler, but he is probably the only ruler of Crestfallen we’ll ever have. There are no other nobles to challenge him. My family is old, and Lord Mender’s is ancient. We both claim descent from the first kings of Crestfallen. I’m sure that means he’s the rightful heir to the throne.”
“So you want Lord Mender to succeed you?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’ll choose another husband. If I marry again, I will have children.”
I laughed. “That’s possible, my lady.”
“And if I have children, my son or daughter will become king. Of course, Lord Mender would have to agree, but I think he would. He’s always trying to find ways to improve the lives of the people. That’s something I can appreciate. He’s a kind man. A generous man. But he doesn’t care enough to try hard.”
“That may be true,” I said. “But he cares about the town. He’s done much to help Crestfallen.”
“He did?”
“Yes,” I said. “Like you, my lady. Your father is a kindly man, too. All three of you are caring men. I appreciate the work you do.”
“For you, my lady?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Lady Rella. “We must continue working together. I’ll give Lord Mender your reports on the town’s problems. As long as you don’t report back to anyone else, Lord Mender won’t ever find out you’re doing this. Unless you tell him, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
“Good. Then we agreed.”
“As you wish, my lady,” I answered.
The End