Kira handed her a glass of cold water. “I'm not sure. But I imagine you walked or were carried considering what I heard.”
Ari took a drink of water: she found she was so parched she had finished the glass before she replied. “Who was talking about that?”
“Some younger girls on household staff. They're too stupid to keep their mouths shut, unlike the older women.” Kira cocked her head and asked, “Do you want to know who?”
“Later,” she said.
Kira was invaluable in another way too. While many knew she served as one of her personal attendants, no one except her personal guard or Siri had any inkling of the depth of their relationship. Ari intended to keep it that way. Kira could tell her the House gossip that would normally never reach her ears. Kira had been the only reason she had ever been able to tell Siri internal things about the House that she didn't already know.
Kira took the empty glass from her and asked “Would you like more?”
“Yes,” Ari said holding her aching head. She probed herself with her Magik. It was hard for her to concentrate on the probe with the pounding of her head. But when she finally did, there was nothing to heal as she feared. Alcohol is like poison, it affects the blood, which cannot be cleansed by Magikal means. Only time will heal this, assuming I survive. She thought ruefully.
“Here you go,” Kira handed her the full glass of cold water.
“Thank you,” Ari drank gratefully. “Where is Thorel?”
“I don't know. He wasn't here when I came in,” she said.
Ari frowned, then she looked at the clock. By the spirits! It's almost the tenth hour! She gasped. She normally woke at the sixth hour.
“I wanted to let you wake up a bit before I told you this. Siri stopped by and told me to ask you to contact her when you woke up,” Kira said.
“Did she say why?” Ari sat up slowly; she felt the water she had drank sloshing in her upset stomach.
“She said it had something to do with the party last night. She said you would understand,” she looked at her questioningly.
Ari nodded, then swung her feet to the ground. She felt the room spin one way, and her head spun the other. She kept her head down looking straight at the floor and waited for it to stop.
“Ari? Are you alright?” Kira asked with concern.
Ari couldn't answer with her stomach bubbling the way it was. She belched and tasted bile. She ran as quickly as she could to the room's privy.
* * *
Nigel and Thorel had caught a few hours of sleep in Nigel's room after they'd talked. As much as he cared for Ari, this wasn't something she could help him with. Only Nigel's company was any consolation to him right now. Never in his life had he experienced this kind of grief and loss.
They had taken a carriage to East Vallad to find Eliel's mother. Thorel woke Nigel up at about the ninth hour as he'd asked. He was still extremely tired, Thorel had difficulty waking him until he had literally picked him up and shaken him.
They had gone to the kitchens and met with the Master Chef to explain the situation to him. Mr. Kuro had been unhappy, but understanding. He did make it clear that he expected Nigel to be back in time to begin preparing the Mistress's dinner no later than the seventeenth hour. On their way out of the kitchens, Nigel had snitched a stoneware carafe of hot coffee and two mugs to help them wake up.
By the time they reached East Vallad, the carafe was empty with Nigel having drank most of it. He looked about as good as the Kryss they had run into in that alley. Thorel felt about as good as he looked though, with the emotional exhaustion and lack of sleep combined. He'd slept a bit in the chair in Nigel's room, even though it was nowhere near as comfortable as the one in his room. The only consolation was that he hadn't had any strange dreams like the one he'd had earlier. He thanked the spirits for that small mercy.
Thorel and Nigel shared the cost of the carriage: one silver each. Thorel had grimaced at that. He only had two silver coins and a few copper marks left to his name after that. Nigel still owed him four coppers, but this wasn't the time to bring that up.
Nigel opened the door of the Helgan Inn: this is where he had met Eliel's mother. Thorel followed him carrying the carafe and two mugs with the fingers of his left hand. They must have looked quite a sight he was sure. Thorel was overtired, and his clothes slept in, Nigel was wearing fresh clothes but looking far worse for wear.
There was a balding older man stocking bottles behind the bar. He turned to them and said: “Bar's closed till the fourteenth-hour gents. Sorry 'bout that,”
“We aren't here to drink sir, but if you have a cup of coffee I'll pay you double for it,” Nigel said.
The man set the bottle in his hand down, reached under the counter and produced a loaded steel crossbow that he leveled at them. “Well, I ain't open for robbery either if that's what you're thinkin'. So you might as well just move along boys,” he said with a nod to the door.
They both stopped cold. Thorel put his hands up slowly to show he had no weapons, except an empty carafe and cups and said; “Sir, I promise we mean no harm of any kind. We're looking for a woman. She's older and has red hair.”
“Yeah? And what might you want with her if I knew where to find her?” He asked firmly.
Nigel followed suit showing the man his empty hands and said: “Sir, I met her here before. We just want to talk to her.”
“About what? I ain't talkin' 'til you talk,” his eyes narrowed.
“Her daughter... Eliel has passed to spirit, sir,” Thorel said, a few tears rolled silently from his eyes.
Nigel nodded sadly to the innkeeper.
He set the crossbow down on the counter, with a look of pain and shock on his face. He yelled loudly. “Honey! Go upstairs and get Mariah and Jax down here right now!”
A woman's voice came back: “What are you thinkin', honey? You know damn well neither of 'em will be up at this hour!”
“Who's Jax?” Thorel asked Nigel quietly, putting his hands down.
“I don't know,” Nigel said honestly.
“Well, you go damn well wake them up then, woman! This is important!” He yelled back.
A plump older woman pushed open the windowed door to the kitchen with a wet skillet in hand. She held it up threateningly and said: “Don't you take that tone with me, you bastard son of a bastard!”
The balding innkeeper cleared his throat and nodded to them. Her tone changed immediately.
She lowered her skillet and smiled at them in a motherly way. “Welcome to the Helgan Inn, gentlemen. How does the morning find you?” The innocent, caring look on her face was a stark contrast to the battleax that was prepared to brain her husband with a skillet just now. If Thorel wasn't so sad, he would have laughed for sure.
“Just get Jax and Mariah, please dear,” he said seriously.
“Right away, my darling husband,” she shuffled through the bar past him, setting the skillet on a counter behind the bar. She stopped and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she lifted her skirt to make speed. She rounded the corner at the end of the bar and disappeared through the door that was there.
The innkeeper picked up his crossbow and put it back under the counter. “I'm Jack Helgan, proprietor of this establishment. Come on up to the bar, gents.”
When they reached it, he thrust his hand out to Thorel.
Thorel took it and shook his hand firmly; “Thorel Tangarth.”
He then shook Nigel's hand. “Nigel Riks,” he said.
He eyed the cups and carafe in Thorel's hand and said; “If you still want coffee, I don't mind givin' you some. At least you brought your own cups,” he said with a sad smile.
“Yes sir, thank you,” Thorel said putting the cups and carafe on the counter. Mr. Helgan took the cups and went through the swinging door to the kitchen.
They waited a few minutes, and Mr. Helgan returned with six cups of coffee with a carafe on the tray. He set it down and handed them the stoneware mugs they had brought with them.
“Thank you,” Nigel said tiredly.
“Thank you sir,” Thorel said sincerely.
“No problem. Not like it costs much to make.”
Thorel reached into his breeches to pull his pouch out to pay the man. The innkeeper put his hand up and said, “Never mind that man. Keep your coin,” taking a drink of his own.
Thorel nodded appreciatively when the door at the end of the bar opened. He saw Mrs. Helgan, and an older woman that would have been the spitting image of Eliel in about two decades. Thorel's heart ached when he saw her, and his tears flowed again. At least he wasn't alone this time, he heard Nigel sniffling too.
Following her was a young man in between Thorel and Nigel's height, taller than Eliel's mother. He had a thick shock of short red hair, and a slim unfinished build Thorel saw in the only mirror in Korin's house a few years ago.
Eliel's ethereal apparition followed the young man into the room. All of her beauty and features were there, but her lively eyes were flat and dead as his own father's. Thorel choked and put his hand on his heart. He squeezed his eyes closed and looked away. His tears flowed freely and a sob escaped unbidden.
Nigel put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard.
“What's so damn important that you woke us up, Jack? I know I paid you this week's bit,” the slightly plump older woman said. “What's wrong with him?” She asked taking a cup of coffee, looking at Thorel.
“Ma'am..,” Nigel began.
“Oh, it's you, little man. Eliel wasn't too mad at me for tellin' you where she was. She even told me how you helped her get away from those girls, too. I'll give you a freebie for that one if you want,” she said with a wink at Nigel.
Nigel's tears practically exploded from his eyes. Her voice was so similar to Eliel's, it was like he got to hear her say it again. He couldn't even speak, he was so overcome with emotion.
The innkeeper cleared his throat. “Mariah..,” he had a hard time keeping his composure. His wife came up and put an arm around him. “These boys came to tell you...”
Her face went completely flat with a look of comprehension crossing her features. “Don't you say it man.”
“I'm sorry Mariah,” he said sadly.
She sat heavily at the bar and pushed the coffee away. “Give me whiskey, Jack. Now.”
He just nodded. His wife grabbed a bottle, poured a full glass without hesitation and handed it to her.
“What's up, mom?” The young man asked with heartfelt concern.
She just looked at Nigel and Thorel and drained half of the glass in one swallow. She set it down and took a deep breath. “Eliel's dead, isn't she?” She asked Nigel bluntly.
Nigel just wiped his tears and nodded. Thorel managed a “Yes ma'am,” he still didn't open his eyes though.
“That's what it is boy,” she hugged her son to her with one arm and finished her drink with the other.
* * *
Ari walked into the solitary cell in Dothranan Guard tower nine after the fourteenth hour. She had already cleared the other girl of complicity in the murder of the whore and she was released on her order.
She had also taken a moment to view Eliel Kwinn's corpse. Seeing that whore cold and dead on a polished stone slab almost made her forget about how rotten she felt.
The Commander that had briefed her on the case told her that she had also been raped. The doctor, who had examined her, confirmed it. She had brought the contract that she had made for her work last night with her: the Tower's stewards made a copy to enter into evidence. It was best to be up front about this. Answer any and all questions now; it would be suspicious if it were to come to light after the fact.
Just a whore who bit off more than she could chew is what that would be written off as. All the guards that were present during the party could verify that the contract had been followed to the letter under a truth seer. If it was challenged, she would simply say she was restrained and forced to honor her obligation as punishment for the insult of attempting to break her contract with her. There were many examples in the legal records of the realm to show that this punishment for such an insult was in fact quite lenient. After all, all she did was make her live up to her agreement.
If it was brought up, she would point out that this had absolutely nothing to do with the woman's death, the Doctor had confirmed that quite clearly.
There should be no issue with that since it was not related to the murder anyway. But it is best to be ready for any and all questions that could arise. She and Siri had been quite thorough in their planning.
Ari looked down on the floor of the solitary cell with the little blonde woman laying on the floor, her dress still covered in the whore’s blood. Her head was in a tight wire steel cage to keep her broken jaw from moving about. There were screws on the apparatus that allowed a Doctor to set the required tension precisely, to hold the bone in place.
The only other concern she'd had was the girl telling the Wizard that would examine her later about Ari's visit to her the night before. Even if it was proven that it had been her, which was highly unlikely, it was still not evidence of her complicity. All she had done was tell her about the carriage, and given her some silver. She hadn't asked her to kill the woman; that could be easily verified. She had just said she hated her, too. She had made her own choice to kill.
But the fact that her friend had broken her jaw made this line of questioning completely avoidable unless she was provided with pad and pen.
She knelt to the floor and looked at the unconscious woman thinking: You were a good tool. Thank you.
Ari could see the Magik that had fired her emotions to murderous levels still. She dispelled the evocation with murmured words and a gesture. The Heart Brand was an old evocation that was not even taught in the apprentices’ tower. It was deemed a useless technique, as all it did was amplify existing emotions. She had come across it during the years while she read every tome she could lay her hands on trying to figure out how to deal with her stepmother. After Siri's investigation into this girl, it's use became quite clear.
There is no useless knowledge, only unimaginative people. She thought.
She did have a contingency plan in place though, in case it hadn't worked out as she had hoped. But a robbery turned murder with no criminal in custody would make her holders question their safety: it was always best to have an execution following a murder. It helped calm the people's fears.
And failing that, if the whore had somehow managed to escape her death last night, she would have the signed contract to show Thorel that the woman he was kissing would take ten gold to fuck twenty men a night. That would be the end of his interest, and any respect he might have had for her, she was sure.
She wove another spell to wake the woman.
The tiny woman started awake abruptly in a panic. Ari placed her hand on her shoulder and with her finger to her lips asked her simply: “Did you stab the whore with your dagger? Nod yes or no,” she touched her with the truth seer.
The girl was shaking and tears filled her blue eyes.
“If you do not answer me, I will have you beaten, woman. Is that what you want?” She was irritable and still felt weak from her drunk last night.
The tiny blonde girl shook her head no.
“Good, you understand. Now tell me, did you stab the whore with your dagger?”
She looked confused as if she didn't know what to say. Isn't the question simple enough? She wondered.
“Nod your head yes or no. Did you stab the whore?” Ari was getting frustrated. If she didn't answer this time, the little bitch was getting ten lashes. She was out of patience.
With a terrified look in her eyes, she finally nodded yes.
Ari got up and left the cell. The Tower's guard closed it behind her. “Siri, send a messenger to the Wizard's tower requesting a Wizard to verify the murderess's guilt. She is being moved to the prison,” she thought to Siri's speaking stone.
“Yes Mistress, right away,” Siri's
thin voice replied in her mind.
Her personal guard fell in with her. She walked to the Commander in charge of the case and said: “She has admitted her guilt, and I have verified it by truth seer, Commander. Have her moved to the prison, and alert the Warden a Wizard will arrive to verify her officially. When it is confirmed, she will be hung at the eighteenth hour tomorrow. I will arrive to conduct the execution myself.”
The man saluted, fist to heart and said, “Yes Mistress.”
Ari wanted nothing more than to sit down and close her eyes. Trying to pretend nothing was amiss was very difficult. But the Mistress of the House must be better than human, larger. No matter if she felt terrible or not.
She walked away, her boots clicking on the stone floor in step with her guards.
* * *
Siri padded quickly down the spiral staircase entering the manor's stables. She'd been notified by the gate guards that Tangarth had returned. She had been frustrated after her conversation with the Mistress this morning: he had been out of the Manor. He and his friend had been last seen leaving the gates just past the tenth hour.
It was half past the fourteenth hour now. Time was far too short. While she had an idea of where he had been raised, she needed to be certain. If she was going to get this accomplished by Friday, they needed to leave now.
Everything was in place, finally. Her Mistress had finally admitted to herself and her that she loved this man. They had taken their first steps towards a serious relationship, and the woman that was in her way had been removed.
Siri could have taken this action earlier, but she would not use this favor that she had saved for years without these requirements being met. The odd thing was she honestly thought this favor would never be of any use to her. But now it was critical.
The High Lord's Groundbreaking party would be perfect for this.
Korin Quedesham was the key to making everything she and the Mistress had done bear fruit immediately. Otherwise, they would be forced to wait, or she would have to take the more dangerous road of breaking tradition: and it may not stand if she does.
Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 33
