The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [111]
Muriele took a moment to absorb that fact. After the initial shock, she realized that it wasn’t really that surprising. Robert had always wanted what William possessed. He had even tried to seduce Muriele a time or two.
“What of it?”
“Prince Robert convinced His Majesty to pay the ransom. Prince Robert set the time and the place for both His Majesty and Austrobaurg to meet. Only the prince knew all the details.”
“You believe Robert betrayed William to his death?”
“I believe it.”
“Despite the fact that Robert was also killed in the ambush?”
Berrye blinked. “Robert was never found, Majesty.”
“They only found part of William,” Muriele said. “He was thrown into the sea. Presumably Robert . . .” She trailed off. Why had she so easily assumed Robert was dead? Because everyone else had?
“What has this to do with Gramme?” she demanded.
“I recently heard her speak of the prince as if she knew he was still alive. She intimated that she had seen him.”
“She said this to you?”
“No,” Berrye admitted, “but I heard it, nevertheless. And I think she knows it.”
“You’ve made it your business to hear a great many things, it would seem,” Muriele noticed.
“Yes, Majesty, I have.”
“And how did you hear all of this?”
“I think you know, Majesty,” Berrye said, pushing her disorderly curls away from her face, finally showing a bit of real nervousness. “The same way you knew who had left you the note.”
“So. William knew about the passages.”
To her surprise, Berrye laughed, a terse little giggle. “His Majesty? No, he knew nothing of them.”
Muriele frowned. “Then how did you—?” It hit her then. “You’re coven trained.”
Berrye nodded infinitesimally.
Muriele sat back, trying to reform her picture of the girl, wondering if there was anything at all solid in her life.
“Did Erren know?” she asked, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.
“I do not think so, Majesty. We were not of the same order.”
A chill tightened Muriele’s spine. “There is only the order of Cer.” But Erren herself had voiced the opinion that there were other, illicit orders.
“There is another,” Berrye confirmed.
“And they sent you here.”
“Yes, Majesty. To keep my eyes and ears open, to stay near the king.”
Now it was Muriele’s turn to laugh, though somewhat bitterly. “That you did most admirably well. Aren’t you supposed to be celibate?”
Berrye looked down, shyly, and for the first time since the conversation had begun looked no older than her nineteen years. “My order has no such restrictions,” she murmured.
“I see. And why come to me now with this knowledge?”
Berrye looked back up. Her eyes were round and threatening tears. “Because, Your Majesty, they are all dead—all my sisters. I am orphaned. And I believe their murderers were the same as those who killed William, Fastia, Elseny, and Lesbeth.”
Muriele felt a sudden rush of sympathy, and her own grief threatened to surface, but she crushed it away. She would have time for that later, and she had already allowed herself to appear too weak in front of Berrye. Instead, she concentrated on the facts.
“Lesbeth? So Austrobaurg killed her?”
“I believe Austrobaurg never even saw her,” Berrye said. “I think she died here, in Eslen.”
“Then where did Robert get her finger?”
“From the author of all of this, of course. From the one who designed this entire tragedy.”
“Gramme?”
“Or Robert. Or the both of them. I cannot say for sure.”
“Robert loved Lesbeth better than anyone.”
“Yes,” Berrye said. “With a terrible love. I think an unnatural love that she did not share.”
Muriele felt a sick twisting in her belly, and her mouth went dry. “And where is Robert now?”
“I don’t know. But I think Ambria Gramme does.”
“And where is she?”
“At her estates, preparing a fete of some sort.”
“I’ve heard nothing of this,” Muriele said.
“It was not widely advertised in Eslen.”
“Then who attends it?”
“That I did not discover either,” Berrye confessed.
Muriele sat back, her head whirling. She closed her eyes, hoping things would settle, but it was too much.