Page 31

As I passed Damhan and Brodi, I chuckled. Some guards they turned out to be. The pair were still sleeping soundly where I’d left them, their dogs along with them. But Fergus rose, following us.

Cormag slipped on his boots, and we followed Conall outside to the courtyard.

Looking sleepless and disheveled, Corva stood by her horse, on which was a body wrapped in a tarp.

“Corva,” I said, joining her.

“Are you well, Cartimandua? You and the bairns?” she asked, her voice sounding worried.

I nodded.

“King Consort?” Corva asked.

“Little more than a bee sting.”

Corva gave him a knowing look, then turned to the body slumped on her saddle.

“I tracked the rider from Rigodonum southeast to an abandoned farmstead.”

“Southeast?” Conall asked, with the implications being obvious.

Southeast was the direct route to Parisii country.

Corva nodded to Conall. “I lost him for a short time in the woods and then picked up his trail again in the snow. My delay in following him allowed someone else to get to him first. When I arrived at the farmstead, the would-be assassin was already dead,” she said, then pulled back the tarp enough to reveal the man’s throat had been slit. “He should be glad of a clean death. I had far worse planned for him.”

“Who did it?”

“Two horses left the farmstead and went to the river. They must have kept to the water for a time. The snow covered their tracks. I could not find them again. I’m sorry, my queen.”

“He was not acting alone,” Conall said, then gestured to two of the guards to take the body.

“Someone wanted to keep him quiet,” Corva agreed.

“Lower the body onto the wagon,” Conall told his men.

We joined them, watching as they unwrapped the man’s body. His dress was unremarkable, and he had no distinguishing features inked on his skin or otherwise.

“Anything on him?” Conall asked.

Corva nodded. “A pocket full of Parisii coins and a signet ring with a Parisii fighting man.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Red-haired too,” Conall commented. “Guess they wanted to make really sure we suspected the Parisii.”

“Should have dressed him in the Parisii gold and black,” Cormag said.

“No. Now,thatwould have been a step too far,” I replied.

Corva laughed. “Shall we check his leathers? All stamped in Brough, I am certain.”

We all frowned at what was a blatant attempt by someone to ensure we believed the man was Parisii.

“Carvetti?” Conall asked in a low voice.

“Perhaps,” Corva considered. “He had a ration bag. Nothing remarkable. Some dried apple, a round of bread, and salted beef and fish.”

Cormag looked over the body. “The coin and ring were placed on him, but an archer’s bow… That would be his own.”