How the hell would he know...?
Malcolm clenched his jaw as he rubbed the tensed muscles on his neck. He was supposed to put him on the spot for his nightly escapades, not be stressing over his brother's extensive schemes. He sat back, watching Callahan move the pieces as if he had been an observer of his last game with the duke. Callahan wasn't mimicking the duke moves though, he was making his own.
'Next will be the bishop, the mole in the court,' he said, trapping the White bishop with his own. 'Cornered and out of moves.'
'The bishop might look like the target.' Callahan picked up his queen, bluffing to kill his bishop. 'But it's only a decoy. The real target is another.' He seized the rook with his queen instead. 'The duke.'
'So you say,' Malcolm scowled at the board. 'Someone is plotting to kill Duke Winslow?'
Callahan shrugged. 'It's a theory.'
'Why does it sound like you're the one who's plotting?' the king challenged.
'What will I gain?' he retorted.
'You've always disliked the duke. Moreover, I heard you went to see the royal healer after you arrived late to the palace last night. What's been keeping you so busy?'
'The visit to the healer was merely for a tincture to soothe the pains of too many drinks. Did the spies you keep after me not tattle to you about my excess drinking last night?' Callahan titled his head to the side. He had bought out those spies a long while back. 'And if I start plotting against everybody I dislike, don't you think it would cause you difficulties?'
Callahan smiled as he nodded towards the chess board. 'But look, the king looks safe.'
Malcolm's eyes drop to the board. The bishop was covering the White king, but one wrong move would expose the king to a check from Callahan's knight. The king was safe, albeit, isolated and trapped.
'You dare threaten your king, Callahan?' Malcolm's face was all rage.
'It's the opposite, brother.' Callahan leaned back, crossing his legs and resting his elbow on the armrest. 'I'm merely trying to keep you safe. You asked me for advice and here it is: Keep your duke in check and you may have nothing to worry about.'
'Duke Winslow is making the kingdom a lot of profit, Callahan!' The erupting anger in Malcolm's loud voice made Arthur jerk in surprise. Callahan kept a serene expression on his face. 'You're a fool if you think burning down one brewery is any challenge to me. The rogues will be caught and hanged in no time.'
Then they heard it. The sound of carriage wheels rushing in the palace doors. The hurried footsteps of the guards running to see what had occurred. And the voice of Minister Frederik — ear-piercing and terrified — calling for His Majesty's aid. Callahan smirked. Just in time.
Malcolm jumped to his feet as the minister was rushed to the study, the king's men following him inside. Minister Frederik's hair was a mess like he had just fallen out of bed, he was missing a shoe, and he was still in his night clothes. The only thing that set him apart from a man preparing to go to bed after a day of work was the dried blood covering every inch of his nightshirt.
'What an embarrassment,' Callahan shook his head in a mockingly displeased manner. 'Minister Frederik, surely you must know this is no proper attire for an audience with your king.'
Frederik was too bewildered by his own misery to pay attention to anything else. Yet, he bowed his head before the royals, stumbled and fell to the ground.
'They killed all my guards, Your Majesty. All of them. The sheets... my sheets.. they were covered in blood when I woke up,' his voice broke, his body shivered as he narrated his plight. 'There was no one. I called for help, I shrieked and no one answered, Your Majesty. The maids said they didn't hear anyone last night. There was no forced entry. But I could have died, Your Majesty. I could have died. They would have killed me. Please help me. I served Your Majesty with my life. Please save me.'
Stunned, Malcolm stared at the man covered in blood, begging for his life on his knees. 'Who did it?' he demanded.
'I don't know, Your Majesty. I wouldn't know. They were all dead. While I slept they were all dead. They were there to keep me safe, Your Majesty, but they were all dead,' he cried, placing his head on the floor and splaying his hands in the front to beg for help.
Callahan rose from his chair and walked to stand next to his brother. 'Congratulations. It seems you've found your bishop. Will you stay behind and let him take the fall, or reveal yourself?'
Malcolm's face had gone red with anger, his eyes spit fire. 'James!' he called to his army general. The lead man of the bunch that had escorted the minister to the royal study came forward and bowed his head, prepared for whatever command the king was to give him next.
'Let it be known in the entire Kingdom of Valon that Duke Winslow is under imperial protection,' his voice thundered within the walls of the study. 'Anyone,' he looked over at Callahan. 'Anyone who will do as much as harm a hair on his head will be an enemy of the Crown! Anyone!'
James brought his fist to his chest in a show of receiving the royal command. 'As you command, Your Majesty.'
Callahan raised his eyebrows, impressed. 'Brave choice,' he commended. 'Now if you have nothing else for me, I'd like to leave you alone to coddle your minister in peace.'
Arthur took his sword back from the guard outside and followed Callahan as he made his way towards the training grounds. After an eventful night and an even eventful morning, he needed to rest. And what better way to do that than a good, friendly spar?
The wound on his chest was still sore, but it wasn't big enough to be a hindrance. The apothecary's medicines had been incredibly effective. And if worst comes to worst, he could spar with one arm.
'What are we going to do about the duke now?' Arthur asked, falling in step next to him.
'You heard the king. He's untouchable now,' Callahan smiled to himself. He hadn't expected his brother to be so bold. But it was a good indication that all was not lost on him. Not yet. 'Ah, that reminds me. There's a letter on my desk in my chambers. Tell Emma to deliver it to the apothecary's cottage near the Spirit Forest.'
Arthur hesitated. 'The apothecary? She saw you last night. Can we be sure she will not reveal you, Your Highness?'
'Do you know the best way to get to know someone, Arthur?'
Arthur shook his head, having no clue.
Callahan stopped at the armoury's door. 'It is to give them a choice, and see what they sacrifice.'
As Arthur stood there confused, Callahan walked into the armoury to don his armour and pick his preferred sword for the day.
It was going to be an interesting next few days.