The Return of Nightfall by Mickey Zucker Reichert

detained in a way appropriate to his status—”
    Apparently shocked beyond thought of consequences, the guard at Nightfall’s side interrupted his leader. “But there are casualties! Ten Alyndarian royal guardsmen—”
    Varsah jumped in as quickly, a frown deeply scoring his face. “Yes, this one is different. A war could ensue, but we know Alyndar’s council is wise enough to establish the enemy before risking innocents.”
    Now Nightfall finally understood the duke’s discomfort, his need to approach in attack mode. Varsah worried fury might drive Alyndar’s army against the place that had harbored the king at the time of the kidnap, and he might pay dearly for the crimes of a group of vicious killers. Nightfall could not help considering the possibility that Varsah had played a role in the slaughter. It might explain why the witnesses chose silence while in the presence of his guardsmen; yet Nightfall dismissed the possibility. Varsah had every reason to want Edward and his entourage safe, at least until after their meeting. The naive, bachelor king with his guilt-riddled conscience seemed perfect fodder for a wily duke with designs on advancing his lineage to a kingdom, especially since Edward traveled with only his most inexperienced adviser. Nightfall wished Varsah had had a hand in the murders and abduction; it would have meant he could wipe the insolent grin from the duke’s face with the full force of Alyndar behind him. Yet, he felt disappointedly certain of the old man’s innocence.
    Either because he guessed the natural direction of Nightfall’s thoughts, or simply to accentuate his own, Varsah added, “Alyndar must understand we had no role in these terrible events, nor did we have any foreknowledge of them. If we had, we would have done everything possible to protect King Edward Nargol.”
    Though he preferred to let Duke Varsah suffer, Nightfall spoke the words he needed to. “Lord, I know.” Even as he appeased the duke, Nightfall continued to work through the problem. No logical mind could have predicted Edward’s abrupt and emphatic decision to ride to Schiz and personally apologize to a duke who better deserved a punch in his arrogant, jowly face. Edward’s entourage had stopped in several towns along the way, yet news could travel only so fast compared to a mounted party. Killing ten of Alyndar’s most able soldiers and capturing her warrior king required coordinating a vast number of swift and skilled assassins, as well as time to organize and practice the blitz. Nightfall knew enough about crime, both major and petty, to feel certain the kidnappers had to have known the destination of the king and his escort at least a week or two in advance.
    Nightfall frowned. The entire trip had only taken a fortnight, which meant the killers’ information could have come from only one source: Castle Alyndar. A traitor? Nightfall pursed his lips, suddenly afraid for those loyal to King Edward, but none so much as his betrothed. A rational portion of his mind urged him to stay in Schiz, to explore every possibility while the trail of the missing king remained warm, but his heart overrode all other necessity. He could not leave Kelryn in possible danger.
    Clearly unnerved by Nightfall’s long silence, Varsah leaned forward. “When your king is ransomed and restored, I pray he will return to the duchy and enjoy the comforts of my guest room.”
    It occurred to Nightfall that Duke Varsah had become more helpful and direct after Nightfall had dared to reveal some weakness. All of his life, he had associated power with strength and control. When he needed information, he bullied it from its sources. When he wanted something, he took it by stealth or force. He had brought it all together into a single black-eyed stare of the demon, known to turn violent men into obedient informants. The legends far exceeded his dangerousness, but those who believed needed no demonstration. Knowing Varsah awaited a more