Michael Sullivan - The Crown Tower

“Then where is he?” Sebastian asked.

“Coulda fallen in the river,” the postilion said. “Some have. Not Farlan, but I heard of others that did.”

“Shouldn’t we wait?” Hadrian asked. “Could he have swum to shore and is running to catch up to us?”

Andrew shook his head. “If he went in, he’s likely drowned. This river is evil through and through, but especially round here. The current is strong and sweeps you along. If you fall in near the center, it won’t let you get near the banks, plus there’s an undertow that will drag down even the strongest swimmer. You get rolled and churned like a deer in a gator’s locked jaws. Bodies don’t never pop up. The river swallows them whole.”

“But what if he did make it?” Hadrian asked.

Andrew shrugged. “He’d be fine, as long as he wasn’t bashed up too bad. He’d likely walk back to the last post station or just sit and wait for the next boat coming up.”

“Why downriver? Why not up?”

“There ain’t no more stations ahead. We’re entering the canyons. Next stop is Colnora. I suppose he might head to the city, but walking downhill is easier than up.”

“So there aren’t any more steersmen to replace him?”

Andrew shook his head again. “Or team changes. From here on it’s just me, Bessie, and Gertrude.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Samuel asked.

“You’ll have to stay here while I go down to the last post. Even if Farlan isn’t there, I’ll need to grab another steersman to finish the trip.”

“How long will that take?” Sebastian asked.

“Most of the day I ’spect, and that’s if someone’s available. Might not be, then it could be three days if we have to wait for another barge.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Samuel declared.

“Absolutely unacceptable,” Sebastian agreed. “We can handle the steering.”

Andrew rubbed the horses in a circular pattern, looking like he wished he were somewhere else. “Well, I suppose that might be okay, but Colnora is still a day away and this last part is-”

“Then I say we do that,” Sebastian declared loud enough for his voice to bounce off the cliff and echo back.

“Who’s going to handle the rudder?” Eugene asked.

“We’ll take turns. You can start us off, Eugene. I’m sure it’s not hard.” He looked to Andrew.

“Just keep her near the middle and avoid the rocks. That’s all there is to it. These ladies here do all the hard work.” He patted the rump of one of the horses.

They set out once more, this time with Eugene at the tiller. He looked unsure of himself, and while Hadrian was no hand with a boat, he sat with the apprentice merchant for a while until he appeared more comfortable skirting the rocks. Hadrian couldn’t tell if Eugene was grateful or irritated with his presence, and eventually took his leave.

“He was murdered,” Samuel told Hadrian when he returned to the center of the barge where the two jewelers and Vivian were gathered. The hooded man had returned to the bow, probably wary of Eugene’s steering and not wanting to be caught below. Samuel nodded in his direction. “That one slit his throat and dropped him in the river.”

“We don’t know that,” Hadrian said. By the looks on their faces, he was the only one who believed it.

“Do you really think an experienced steersman fell overboard on a route he’s probably traveled a hundred times?” Sebastian asked.

“No, but I’m also not willing to jump to the worst possible conclusion.”

“Open your eyes, you foolish boy,” Samuel said in a loud voice. “A man is dead! And there is no denying who is responsible.”

Hadrian cringed. “You want to say that just a little louder? I don’t think Andrew and Bessie heard. Look, you insist that Farlan has been killed, but you are forgetting one very important thing.”

“Which is?” Samuel inquired.

“Why?” Hadrian let the word hang in the air. “Can you tell me why he would want Farlan dead? Because I can’t think of a single good reason beyond just being crazy, and he hasn’t seemed crazy so far.”

That seemed to knock the wind out of the merchants’ sails. They exchanged glances and seemed genuinely perplexed. While they pondered, Vivian’s small wavering voice spoke up: “I think I do.”

All three men looked her way.

“He was there last night, wasn’t he?” she asked, looking toward the bow. “When the two of us were talking? He wasn’t far away when you told me about Farlan getting the sheriff to investigate the murders in Vernes.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian asked.

Hadrian nodded.

“He had to make Farlan disappear,” Samuel said as his sight shifted to the bow as well. “No Farlan, no investigation, problem solved.”

“Well, there you have it,” Sebastian declared. “Now it makes perfect sense, but…”

“But what? Hadrian asked.

“Now we must take steps,” Sebastian said.

“What do you mean?” Hadrian asked.

“We know, don’t we? We all know it now.”

“Know what?”

“That not only is he the murderer of Vernes, but of Farlan as well. What’s more-he knows that we know. If he was willing to kill Farlan, he won’t stop. His only choice is to kill all of us.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hadrian said. “There are five of us, six counting Andrew. I think the odds are well in our favor.”

“He’ll just catch us off guard while we sleep or when alone at the tiller. Like a predator winnowing a herd, he’ll pick us off one by one.”

“That settles it, then,” Samuel whispered this time. “We have to kill him first. It’s us or him. He’s no bigger than Eugene-smaller even-and I don’t see any weapons. We could do it right now. The three of us. Hadrian, lend us your swords and get that big one from your cabin. We’ll all have at him and then roll the bastard into the water, just like he did to Farlan.”

Sebastian was nodding with stern resolution, a judge presiding over a hearing.

Hadrian had spilled enough blood for three lifetimes. However, it was possible, probable even, that they were right. Even more condemning was Mr. Hood himself. Why was he so distant? He must be able to hear their conversations. Why not deny the charges if he was innocent? His behavior invited suspicion and his attitude was worrisome, but that wasn’t proof.

“No,” Hadrian replied. “I won’t kill a man on speculation. Something happened to Farlan, something unexplained, but we don’t even know if he’s dead. Even if it was murder, who’s to say it was him? So the man keeps to himself, big deal. So you don’t like the look of his eyes. What does that prove? Why couldn’t it have been Eugene, or one of you two, or even me for that matter?”

The two merchants shook their heads in dismay, their mouths agape.

“There’s just too much we don’t know,” Hadrian continued. “I think we should do exactly what Farlan had been planning. We get through the rest of today and tonight, and when we arrive in Colnora, Andrew can fetch the sheriff. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll ensure that nobody leaves until he arrives and gets to the bottom of all this.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sebastian said.

“Farlan might be safe and sound, drinking hot soup back at the last outpost. How will you feel when he turns up in Colnora and you know you killed an innocent man?”

“Do you really expect us to do nothing except wait to be slaughtered?”

“I expect you to let the law decide what’s to be done.” Hadrian stood up, taking advantage of his superior height to make his point. “And if you attempt to lay a hand on him, I’ll see that you lose it.”

“You would defend a killer!”