Act 19.

Linda couldn’t believe her nose, so she sniffed the king properly. She was sure that she must have had some memory of the scent hit her at the same time the king came near.

Margaret and her brother stared at the warrior as she moved around the king sniffing loudly.

"Excuse me Champion." said Patrick. "What exactly is the matter? Is there some sort of offending odour coming off of me that no one has dared mention?"

Linda turned to Margaret.

"Smell him." she said.

"What?!" cried Margaret.

"Smell him." repeated Linda. "Tell me how he smells."

Reluctantly, giving Linda a look that showed her complete questioning of her friend’s sanity, Margaret leaned in and smelled her brother.

She wrinkled her nose and stepped back.

She waved her hand in front of her face.

"Good grief brother." she said "What in the world are you wearing. It is very much unlike what you normally wear. Are you trying to impress your lady love or is your reasoning something even harder to contemplate."

"What is wrong?" he asked. "I wear the same thing all the time. You know that."

"You smell girly." said Margaret.

"Something like this, perhaps?" said Linda waving the handkerchief in front of Margaret’s nose.

Margaret’s nose wrinkled again and then a light dawned in her eye.

"How is it, that my brother comes to smell like the handkerchief found in an assassin’s belongings?" she asked out loud.

Patrick reached over and took the handkerchief from Linda and sniffed it.

His eyes widened, and he strode quickly over to the prisoner who sat quietly watching them.

The King picked him up by the collar of his shirt and brought him close to his face.

"How did you come across this?" he asked waving the handkerchief in front of the prisoner’s face.

The prisoner smiled.

"A gentleman does not tell of his dalliances to another gentleman, it is not polite." he said.

The king struck him across the face.

The prisoner never flinched, he just kept smiling.

"A rogue such as yourself does not have the right to claim such a title. And the one who owns such a fine piece would never stoop to be seen in the presence of one such as yourself, let alone give you such a present."

"And yet I have it." said the prisoner.

"Stolen, surely." said the king dropping him back to the floor.

The prisoner winced but did not cry out as the king returned to the two women.

"You recognise the handkerchief, your Highness?" asked Linda.

"It looks like the ones that Amy uses." he said.

Linda’s and Margaret’s faces betrayed nothing of their surprise, though anyone looking close enough would have noticed the exchange of looks that passed between them.

The king, still in a bit of a rage, did not notice.

"She has given you one as a present hasn’t she?’ said Linda.

Silently the king reached in to his breast pocket and pulled out a near identical handkerchief.

Linda took it and took a whiff.

It was the same scent.

"I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for how this came to be here." said Margaret.

"I am sure he stole it." said the King.

"That is the most obvious answer." said Margaret "Perhaps he has unrequited feelings for his Princess and wanted a souvenir."

The king was nodding.

"That must be it." he said, not sounding too sure of himself. "She would never associate herself with one such as he."

"Let us talk to him some more now that we have this new evidence." said Margaret. "You go relax and we will let you know what we find."

"All right." said her brother.

He walked to the door.

Lind shot Margaret a look.

Margaret nodded her understanding and spoke up.

"Brother." she said.

He turned to look at her.

"It would be best if you said nothing of this to anyone." she told him. "Especially our guests. At least until we have more to go on than we do now."

Patrick looked as if he was about to say something but stopped himself.

She was the elder of the two and he knew that she was always looking out for him.

He did not like where this was going but he would not interfere with his sister’s investigation. She would always do what was best for the both of them, no matter what.

He nodded quietly and closed the door behind him.

"I hope for my brother’s sake that she isn’t involved in this." said Margaret.

"We have to look at all the possibilities." said Linda. "It is not a large stretch of the imagination to believe that a member of the royal family could be conspiring against another."

Margaret snorted.

"How do you think our last King got the job?" she said.

"I am not saying you are wrong." she continued. "I just hope you are."

Her faced took on a puzzled look.

"She doesn’t seem the sort to want the job." she said after a pause.

"It may be other reasons." said Linda trying to be a little more polite. "His Highness the Prince does not look like the best man for the job if you get my meaning."

Margaret stifled a laugh.

"I have noticed his lack of kingly attitude." she said. "I suppose I would think twice about having him as my King."

There was a laugh from the prisoner.

The two turned to look at him.

"What’s so funny?" said Margaret in a menacing voice.

"Just that you expressed the opinion of half of my country’s population." he said.

Margaret picked him up by his neck and lifted him off his feet.

"And is the Princess of the same opinion?" she asked. "Did she give you that handkerchief as a keepsake or payment for the job to make sure she never betrayed you knowing you had a way of linking her to you."

He only smiled at the Knight.

"Or are you some obsessed admirer of the Princess who will do anything to see her given what she deserves."

He stopped smiling.

"I just thought of it." said Linda. "What if he was doing this on his own."

"The Handkerchief was the odd thing." she continued. "Why would a seemingly intelligent person allow anything, that could be linked to them, to be found? It was to easy. To sloppy."

She walked over to the prisoner.

"You got the handkerchief by yourself didn’t you?" she asked.

The prisoner’s face remained still.

"You heard the talk of the people who found the thought of the Prince ascending to the throne to be hard to swallow. You decided that the Princess would be better, so let’s just get rid of the Prince."

"Did you tell your partner about it our did you lie to him, saying it was given to you by your bosses."

The prisoners face was beginning to flush red. Linda was sure it wasn’t Margaret’s hold on him doing that. She decided to push it a little more. It was her turn to be bad cop.

"Did you think she would be happy you did it?" she said. "Did you think she would love you for it."

Anger flared in his eyes.

"She doesn’t even know you exist." she continued. "She couldn’t love you. She loves the King. Someone of her stature wouldn’t look twice at a fool like you. The king is twice the man you are."

"The king is not a man!" he cried out, swinging a fist in her direction.

She easily stepped away from it.

Margaret threw him against the wall and he collapsed in a heap.

"He never even killed the previous King." he mumbled. "He is not a man, just a boy. I am more deserving of her than he."

"And she is more deserving of the throne than that fat fool." he finished.

"You were here to kill my brother as well, weren’t you." said Margaret.

The smile returned.

"It was convenient of the two of them to be together." he said.

Margaret struck him across the face with the back of her hand.

He spat blood but said nothing more.

"Come on." said Linda. "Let’s tell your brother what we found."

The two left the room.

When they were gone the prisoner stirred.

"You haven’t won just yet." he said aloud to no one.

He searched his left arm with his right hand.

It was good of them to mend the arm broken by the Lady Knight. They always repaired their damage to make the prisoners last as long as possible.

So he was still able to use his right hand. It hurt badly but it worked.

He felt the small lump that told him where, that which was secret, was hidden.

He pushed and a sharp prick of pain told him the piece had broken the skin.

He pulled the slender metal pick from under the skin where it had been placed long ago.

With it he went to work on the manacles that bound him.

He had jobs still left to finish, and he was adding others to the list.