“Untie the woman, Franc. Now,” I added, when he hesitated and glanced at Jamson.
He shuffled forward and did so. The woman scrambled free of the table and hastily lowered her skirts. If her clothing was anything to go by, she was a chambermaid rather than one of the guests. She was also, I suspected, little older than sixteen or seventeen and, if the blood I’d seen was any indication, uninitiated in the ways of Astar. My hand tightened against Jamson’s sac, and his knees buckled. He didn’t fall, but only because I shoved him back against the table.
“Are you all right?” I asked softly.
She nodded, but wouldn’t meet my gaze. Her cheeks were red, her eyes puffy with tears, and her mouth pinched.
“What’s your name?”
She hesitated, and then said, “Kara.”
“Kara, do you wish to press charges against these men?”
She rapidly shook her head. I wasn’t surprised given her position here would probably be, at best, tenuous if she did, but it nevertheless angered me that these men would so easily get away with such a serious assault.
“I’ll support you in any hearing if you wish to do so.”
Again she shook her head. “I just—” She hesitated, and sniffed. “I just want to go. Please, can I go?”
“Of course you can. But if you need—” The words died on my lips. She was already out the door.
Franc once again spat out blood and then said, “You will pay for this—”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I cut in. “And if you don’t want your friend here to become a eunuch, I suggest you quit the threats and drag your companions around so I can keep an eye on the three of you.”
I squeezed Jamson’s ball sac as I said it, and he made another of those half-gurgled screams. His sweat and pain stung the air, but the smell did little to ease the anger within me. That anger very much wanted to not only rip his balls off but slice up his manhood to ensure he could never again violate anyone—innocent or not—in such a manner.
Franc reluctantly obeyed. Once he’d dragged the two unconscious men into my line of sight, he stopped beside them and crossed his arms. “This action will be the end of you,” he said. “We will ensure—”
“Look, if we’re going to throw threats about, let me give you one or two,” I said. “First off, I’m here under the orders of Lord Kiro, who is currently investigating the murder—”
“Murder?” Franc said. “We haven’t murdered anyone—”
“Not in this room, maybe, although who knows what might have happened if I hadn’t walked in when I did.”
“Oh for freedom’s sake, it was only a damn maid—”
He didn’t get any further, because my knife buried itself in his thigh. He screamed and went down, clutching his leg with both hands as blood began to pulse. I squeezed Jamson’s balls harder then released him; he made an incoherent noise and dropped to his knees.
The door opened and the footman who’d given me directions entered. His gaze swept the room and, just for an instant, something close to delight crossed his expression before he got it under control.
“Is everything all right, m’lady?”
“Everything is perfectly fine, thank you.” I tore a strip of fabric from my skirt then walked over to Franc, throwing the material at him before bending to retrieve my knife.
“No, it’s not,” Jamson wheezed. “Arrest this witch, she attacked us—”
“Four Upper Reaches lords brought down by one woman? Won’t that be the talk of the masque,” I said. “Are you sure you want to advertise that? Because I don’t mind ensuring everyone knows the precise reason why I attacked the four of you.”
Jamson glared at me. His friend didn’t even do that much—he was too busy tying the material around his thigh in an effort to stem the bleeding. I returned my gaze to the footman. “Could you have a guard placed on the door? None of these men are to leave until Lord Kiro arrives to interrogate them.”
Jamson snorted, though the sound came out weirdly given he was still battling to breathe and obviously remained in pain. “Taking advantage of a maid is hardly a crime worthy of Kiro’s—”
I raised a hand in warning and he cut the rest of the comment off. The footman bowed. “I shall order it done, m’lady.”
“For freedom’s sake, why are you taking orders from her? She’s a damn nobody!” Jamson said. “I’m the Rossi heir apparent and you’re mine to command—”
“And Lord Kiro’s orders,” I cut in, “override everything else.”
“You’re not Lord Kiro—”
“No, but I am here on his orders—and that can be easily confirmed by simply requesting his presence here immediately.”
“I think perhaps that would be for the best, m’lady.” The footman hesitated. “And perhaps I should ask a healer to attend Lord Franc?”
“He doesn’t deserve it, but I guess you’d better.”
He ducked his head to hide his smile and retreated, closing the door behind him. I cleaned my knife on the coat of one of the unconscious men, and then said, “Right, tell me about Marcus Rossi.”
Jamson drew in a deep, shuddery breath, and then said, “He’s my father.”
“And you wanted him dead.”
He snorted. “So what? I’m not the only eldest son who wishes death on his parent.”
“But I’m betting few of the others have actually followed through with the desire, as you have.”
“What on earth are you blathering about, woman?”
The confusion on his face was very real. He might be a drunken abuser, but it very much looked like he wasn’t guilty of patricide.
“I’m talking about your father, and the fact he was murdered this evening.”
Jamson blinked. Surprise, horror, hope, and fear—the emotions tumbled across his face in quick succession. “Seriously?”
“Yes. And given you have the most to gain by his death—”
“If I was going to murder anyone,” he retorted, “it’d be the bitch carrying the spawn of another. He or she is the real threat to my position, thanks to the fact it’ll be born of his legal wife.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t in fact murder your father? Or did you perhaps arrange for someone else to do it?”
“I didn’t kill him and I didn’t ask anyone else to do it, but I’m damn glad someone did.”
That was, beyond any doubt, a truthful statement. His hatred of his father and his elation at his death were evident in his voice and in his eyes.
A knock at the door had me glancing around. “Enter.”
The door opened and a gray-clad healer walked in. His gaze quickly scanned the room and a smile twitched his lips. Jamson and his friends really weren’t liked up here in the Reaches, it seemed. “M’lady,” he said, with a quick nod at me. “I’ve been told to advise you Lord Kiro is on his way. A guard has been placed at the door to ensure these four remain here.”
“Excellent.” I sheathed my knife. With Kiro on his way, there was little point of me remaining here. I had the answer I’d been sent here to find; it was up to Kiro to decide what to do with these men now. “When you finish with these four, could you check on a maidservant called Kara for me? She was the victim of an attack by these delightful souls.”
“Indeed? I’ll ensure Lord Kiro is also aware of that when he arrives.” His gaze was cold with anger when it rose to mine, but it wasn’t aimed at me. “And I’ll certainly find Kara and ensure she’s okay.”
“Hey,” Franc growled, “I didn’t actually do anything—”
“No,” I said. “You just stood back, offered suggestions, and cheered Jamson on. Which is just as bad in my books. You’re damn lucky that knife was aimed at your thigh and not your rotten heart.”
“Amen to that,” the healer murmured.