Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(70)

“Which is why we’re here, talking to you,” Cohen reminds him.

“Yes, well, I’m not sure how much help I can be to you.” The fleshy skin beneath Millner’s chin shimmies like a turkey gobble when he speaks.

I frown.

“Now, Britta.” He pats his belly. “I have an idea of who murdered your father—?I’m just not sure how much it’ll help you with the guards. See, the night of the murder, a friend of mine was at the same tavern as your father. Lucky for him, he was taking care of some other business.” His face reddens and he coughs, as if I’m naive to what else happens inside taverns.

“Was he with a wench?”

Millner lets out a hearty laugh. “You’re smart. Not afraid to speak the truth. I like you. You remind me of your father.”

“Yes, well, I’d like you more if you could just give us a name.” I flash him a wry smile.

He chuckles. “Bear with me. I’m getting there. So this friend of mine just happened to be coming into the tavern through a hidden door when your father was killed. He had the wits to back right out that door before anyone saw him.”

“And where’d he go?”

“To me, of course.”

Millner has lost his seeds. I cross my arms and lean back. “Your friend saw a man killed, and then told no one but you?”

“Aye. Smart man, my friend. Information like this could’ve cost him his life.”

Even though his words register true, I’m still skeptical. “Please, don’t leave me in anticipation. What did your friend say?”

“The man who killed your father was wearing the king’s emblem on his coat.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Cohen and I have already determined that the only person who likely killed Papa was one of the king’s guards or one of the men close to him. That doesn’t help us.”

He clucks his tongue. “Patience, Britta. I wasn’t finished. Citizens of Celize aren’t subjects to King Aodren, but some still fear his reach, as well as the men who serve him. In a busy tavern, there should’ve been a dozen witnesses. Do you know how many there were?”

“Two,” I answer, remembering what Lord Jamis said.

“Two. So you see, people are afraid to talk.”

He has a point. “Do you have a description of the guard?”

Millner chuckles. “Just like your father—”

“A description?” If he compares me to my father again right now I might consider taking him back to Malam as well.

“Older man, dark hair, tall, with a solid build.”

“That description matches a number of guards.” Cohen steals the response right off my tongue.

There is a slight mischievous glint in Millner’s eyes as he leans closer to me. “I suppose I should also add that the man’s coat had five stripes. Do you know who wears five stripes on his uniform?” He sits up tall, gleaming triumphantly.

I know exactly whose coat he’s talking about. “Captain Omar,” I say, though hardly able to believe it’s true.

“Aye, Captain Omar.”

Did the captain really kill my father? Why would he accompany me on a hunt to find an innocent man? Perhaps his motive is to pin the murder on someone else. The truth of what Millner is saying warms me through, but the realization of his words shocks me to my core.

Perhaps Captain Omar needed me to lead him to Cohen so he could take Cohen’s life as the man who murdered the king’s bounty hunter. Such a devious move would leave the captain free of suspicion. It would even elevate him to the status of a hero. What would the captain gain from Malam and Shaerdan going to war?

“Now can you see why the truth won’t do you much good?” Millner’s question pulls me from my thoughts.

I groan inwardly at his perceptiveness. He’s right. The truth only complicates matters. Two days ago I was certain finding the murderer would solve most of our problems. Now there is an entirely new set of obstacles to face.

How will we convince the high lord that the captain of the guard is guilty? There’s no chance the testimony of an unnamed man, told from the mouths of two escaped criminals, will stand against the evidence.

Someone knocks on Enat’s door.

A mouse could scurry across the floor and it’d sound like the padding of a bear for as quiet as we all become. Enat is the first to rise, pulling a blade into her hand.

“Relax. It’s just my girl.” Millner waves at the weapon Enat has pointed toward the door. “You won’t need that.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Enat sheaths the blade and welcomes in a girl with hair so dark, it looks like the blue-black of a moonless night sky. She is about my age, with blue eyes set against tawny skin and rosebud lips.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Lirra.” Enat pats the girl on the shoulder. “Could’ve warned me you were coming.”

The girl smiles, a gentle curve that levels when her eyes scan the room and stop on Cohen and me. “And miss surprising you?” she says to Enat. “Never.”

Enat grumbles a response, to which Lirra laughs. Curiosity and, if I’m being honest, a little jealousy seizes me. I’ve only just discovered Enat is my grandmother. But I want to have a relationship like the one Enat shares with Lirra. Suddenly, I feel like I’ve been pretending my entire life. Acting as though I don’t care when people say unkind things to me. Acting like it doesn’t matter that no one wants to be my friend. Acting as if I’m not lonely.