Ontogeny

Chapter 2a

     Normally, when soldiers returned to their base of operations, whether it was a remote outpost on the edge of civilisation or, as in this case, the very heart of the Kingdom, they would spend the rest of the day, and the next day as well if they returned late in the evening, drinking, celebrating and indulging in general horseplay as they wound down from the rigours and exertions of their time in hostile territory.

     There was none of that for the men of the Brigadier’s patrol, though. They sat around in silence and barely contained anger as they absorbed what they'd heard from the people of the city and their brothers in arms. Some had tankards of ale in their hands just from force of habit as they sat upright in the chairs of the common room, still wearing their travel stained uniforms, but barely a sip had been taken and the beer was well on its way to going flat. A fly that had landed in one of them drowned unnoticed, and the soldier currently serving behind the bar went to sit in one of the comfortable chairs beside the window, confident that his services wouldn’t be needed any more that day.

     “Bastard!” said Private Smith, twisting his cap in his hands. “What a bastard thing to do! Who did it? What kind of bastard would do a thing like that?”

     “Whoever it was better not come near here,” added Cowley. “Not if they know what’s good for them.”

     “For all we know, he’s already here,” said Spooner. “Someone detailed to the palace guard...”

     “Don't say that,” growled Cowley. “No soldier of the city would do it. I'd stake my pension on it.”

     “It had to have been someone allowed into the presence of the Princess,” said Smith. “That's the palace guard. Her maids and handmaidens. Foreign dignitaries on state visits...”

     “She goes about the city plenty of times,” pointed out Cowley. “In that carriage of hers. Could be anyone in the crowd.”

     They all looked at Quill, who shook his head. “Curses aren't that specific,” he said. “If someone in the crowd cast a curse, everyone for yards in all directions would have been affected. Not just the Princess herself. For her to be the only one affected, the culprit would have had to be alone with her, even if just for a moment or two. It would have to have been someone in the palace.”

     Smith's eyes widened in alarm. “The King has to be warned...”

     “He knows, you idiot,” said Spooner. “They've had weeks to work all this out. Everyone in the palace, anyone who's been in the palace at any time in the last six months, will have been checked and checked again, a dozen times. Had to have been.”

     “Someone trusted,” growled Sergeant Blane. “Someone the King trusted with the safety of his daughter. I saw the King angry once, back in sixty one. When he found that the Sellites had murdered his peace envoys.” He shook his head. “When he finds out who it was...”

     “The King will have to stand in line,” said Smith, and half a dozen people nodded their agreement, sitting more upright in their seats. Eyes burned with anger and hands clenched into fists.

     “Enough of that!” warned Blane, giving them sharp looks. “The King will have his justice. We may have a hand in bringing the traitor to justice, if we're lucky,  but justice will be carried out by the King himself. None other. Be sure you remember that.” They nodded again, accepting his correction, but Blane suspected that bad things might happen to the traitor if any of his men should lay hands on him. Accidents happened, after all. People died trying to escape, broke their necks falling down stairs... Who knew what kind of regrettable accident might befall the traitor before he could be turned over to the king?