Mistel gasped.
“His vile cousin tried to drag him down, but our lord’s love for his wife gave him strength beyond measure. He prevailed against that villain, and Lady Viola herself pulled his lordship from the icy depths. They say her hands were trembling, but her heart was as steady as the mountains.”
“Lady Viola rescued Lord Livna?” Mistel asked, her eyes shimmering.
“Aye, lass,” Dunn said, nodding gravely. “She saved him as much as he saved her. A true love story, if ever there was one.”
He let his words linger before sitting down, a satisfied grin on his bearded face. “And that, my friends, is how courage and love overcame treachery and cold steel. Lord Livna, Lady Viola, and little Nevandra are safe, while Fenris, Erlichman, and their many schemes lie frozen at the bottom of the lake.”
“Where none will miss them,” Quimby added.
Silence hung heavy in the room.
Cole could hardly believe it.
“What a story,” Mistel said.
“Indeed, Miss Wepp, indeed,” Dunn said. “His lordship is in bed now, warming his bones, which I can tell you were frozen clear through.”
“What part did Councilor Erlichman play in all this?” Merrygog asked.
“Ahh,” Dunn said. “Poor Joonas never had much of a spine, I’m afraid. Personality as strong as Fenris clipped the bit right into his mouth. He’d been steering the man for months.”
The tavern erupted into murmurs of reflection. Rilla served Dunn and Quimby bowls of steaming stew and tankards of ale.
“Poor Nash,” Mistel said. “He must be heartbroken. Councilor Erlichman seemed like such a nice man.”
“He was,” Kurtz said. “You know what they say about bad company, though.”
“I wish I knew what this meant for our investigation,” Cole whispered.
“As do I.” Kurtz took a drink. “Actually, that gives me an idea.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Dunn,” Kurtz said, “did you ever know a man named Crispen West?”
Dunn tapped his chin, then nodded slowly. “Aye, I knew him. That was years ago. He wasn’t in the army long before he went bad. Was like a colt fresh out of the stable, all legs and no sense. Ran with Fenris, actually. They played their pranks, though I never got involved. Roxburg warned me off.”
“Do you remember his arrest?” Kurtz asked.
Dunn shook his head. “Wasn’t here for it, but I heard he killed a man. Shame, really. On his own, he wasn’t a bad fellow. Just got mixed up with the wrong crowd. A bit like Erlichman, I’d guess, though West was always dead broke.”
“We think he was framed,” Cole said, surprising himself with the bluntness of his comment.
Dunn’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you now? Wouldn’t surprise me. Fenris had a way of steering people into trouble, now, didn’t he?”
Arbin struck up a new tune on his fiddle, and the conversation around them returned to its usual hum.
Kurtz leaned across the table and kept his voice low. “That was a big clue, about West and Fenris.”
“It connects Fenris to Thusk,” Cole said. “At least back then. You think Fenris had something to do with framing Uncle Crisp—uh, my father?”
“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Kurtz said. “Can’t believe that blighter is dead.”
Cole stared into the flames, his thoughts spiraling. He might still stumble over the word father when speaking of Crispen, but he believed wholeheartedly that the man was innocent.
He knocked on the tabletop, and when Kurtz met his gaze, Cole tapped his temple.
What you got? Kurtz bloodvoiced.
“Oh, don’t leave me out.” Mistel pushed out her bottom lip.
