Security was light. Strong outside, where it was intended that any threats would be met and quickly dealt with, but absent altogether once inside the residence.
Even though it was the royal palace and the ancestral home of Kings and Queens, and the Elves should have known better.
It knew the layout of the home; it had been here many times before, always in its other form, always as a welcomed guest. It had been given many opportunities to study the home’s rooms and passageways, and it could find its way about easily.
It knew exactly where the old King slept.
When it entered his room, it found him slumbering in his bed, unaware of the danger. Edinja’s creature wasted no time. It set aside its burden, moved to the bedside, slid the knife from its belt sheath, pinned the old man to the bed with one hand covering his mouth, and drove the knife into his chest.
Emperowen Elessedil shuddered once as the knife reached his heart and then went still.
The creature withdrew the knife in a rough, jerking motion, spraying blood and creating the impression that the attack had been violent and heated. It threw bedclothes on the floor, overturned a chair, and arranged the King’s body to suggest that a terrible struggle had taken place and he had been all but dragged from his bed. Then it turned to the unconscious man on the floor, smeared the King’s blood on his clothes, and placed the knife in his hand.
Satisfied, it took a final look around, and then picked up a vase and threw it through the glass of the bedroom window, the sound reverberating in the night’s stillness.
Seconds later, it was back in the courtyard as the Home Guards rushed inside to discover what was happening, climbing the walls to the roof before leaping into the cover of the trees and disappearing.
Sixteen
Seersha did not visit the practice field the next day, although she was awake before sunrise. She had intended on going, but her body was aching from more than the pains of combat and she was feeling sick. When she laid a hand on her forehead, it was hot and clammy. Somehow she had picked up a fever. She wasn’t so unwell she couldn’t manage on her own, just uncomfortable enough not to want any strenuous movements in her life for at least the next twenty-four hours.
She rose while it was still dark to wet a cloth in cold well water and mop her forehead and cheeks. After doing so, she drank a glass of ale, then rewet the cloth and, carrying it with her, went back to sleep. Her way of dealing with sickness usually consisted of drinking liquids and getting rest, and she wasn’t inclined to vary what had always been a successful treatment.
Nevertheless, she had barely gotten back to sleep when she heard a knock at her cottage door. Because Mirai and the others were gone and she was living alone, no one else was going to answer the door. Fine with her, she told herself, intent on ignoring the summons.
But the knocking continued, steady and insistent, and it occurred to her it might be Crace Coram or a messenger from the King or something that involved plans for the Elven army’s travel south to Arishaig, so she reluctantly roused herself, threw on some clothes, and shuffled her way to the front door.
When she opened it, she found Sian Aresh standing in front of her looking decidedly agitated.
“May I come in?” he asked. Without waiting for her response, he pushed past her and closed the door quickly behind them.
“Is someone after you?” Seersha asked jokingly, cocking one eyebrow at him.
He shook his head. “No, someone is after you.”
She took a closer look and saw that his lean face was fatigued and his clothes rumpled. More troubling was the haunted look in his eyes.
“What is it?” she asked. “Who’s after me?”
“I am. I’m here to arrest you.”
She started to grin and then realized he was serious. “Why would you do that?”
“I wouldn’t, as a matter of fact. But that’s why I am here.” He glanced around the darkness of the room. The moon was down, but dawn was not far away. “Can we move away from the door and the windows to a place where someone looking in won’t see us talking?” he asked.
She took him into her bedroom where the curtains were still drawn. “I woke up feeling sick, so I’ve been trying to rest.” She gestured at the rumpled bedclothes and the cluttered floor. “Excuse the mess.”
He shook his head. “I have a bigger mess than this one to deal with, Seersha,” he said. “Emperowen was murdered last night. Stabbed to death. His brother Ellich was found on the floor of his bedroom next to him, blood on his clothes and a knife in his hand. He’s been charged with murder and locked up.”
Seersha stared. “That makes no sense at all! Why would Ellich kill his brother?”