Chapter 10: Who is He?
Karigan looked out at the whirling figures as the next dance was struck up. The aunts' incessant chatter ran at a low drone at the edge of her conscience, but she didn't hear a word they said.
A time when her nerves had been more jittery she could not remember. As a person does with any extremely stressful situation, she could not remember the dance, only small snatches of it, like a picture of the room frozen still at one point of time or another.
This was not a happy time.
And it was going to stay unhappy, thought Karigan, as a scream ripped through the cultured stillness of the gentry.
Karigan's first thought was for Zachary.
There's so much blue… She knew the king was wearing blue, but apparently just about everyone else was too, herself included. Then she saw him, a blue figure surrounded by black shadows. The King was arguing with his shadows, no doubt ordering them to let him attend to the situation. Karigan silently wished him luck, but didn't wait around.
She had been out of the field too long, and she could feel a longing to do something worthwhile, to once again accomplish something. She looked behind her. "Tharin, Sal, let's go."
The two Riders gave her their arms to steady her, and they made their way through the people. Some were moving away from the spectacle, but most were moving towards it. Karigan knew it was human nature to have a look-see at any potential disaster.
They finally shoved through the final row, and were almost disappointed at the apparent mildness of the scene. One portly man lay motionless on the floor, a plate of finger food and wine glass scattered on the tiles around him. The tall woman in shimmering green standing near took in a deep breath and let out a copy of the grating scream Karigan had first heard from across the room.
She looked around, "Is anyone going to stop her?" Everyone seemed to only be looking at each other and chatting in shocked, excited voices. "Well someone has to!"
Sal shook her head and spoke in Karigan's ear. "I'm a servant here. I can't take that liberty."
"Good point." She leaned over and slapped the woman across the face. Her shriek gave out, but the woman's mouth stayed open as she gaped at Karigan. "Someone do something with her. Please." She added belatedly.
A familiar-faced noble stepped slightly in front of her. "And you are…"
Karigan felt a brief pressure on her shoulder. "Lady Karigan is not only a respected member of the Court, but has also received the call of the Riders. We would, of course, be glad of her assistance."
She raised her eyebrows; it was Sora. I should have guessed he would be in the thick of things. "At least until others with more experience can take over."
"Or course." He knelt down by the figure and put a finger to the man's pulse under his fleshy neck. The lady had been removed, but the noble who had spoken earlier still scowled at her. Oh well.
Karigan turned. "Sal, Tharin, can you fetch Master Destarian for this man and let Mapstone know what's going on? She'll know who to contact." They both left without a word. She crouched down next to Sora, kneeling on her good knee and found him staring at her with a stark grin on his face.
"Commanding your troops, I see. Soldiers always obey a good commander."
"They're actually just other Riders, my friends." She looked at the corpse to avoid looking at him.
"Of course." He turned his attention to where she was focused. "What do you think then?"
"It's probably fuss for nothing, a heart attack. He's not exactly a fit man…"
"True, but there is always the alternative."
"You're right, but that would mean conspiracies. As long as no one gets hurt, they're relatively easy to ignore." She gathered some of the food stuffs and set the empty wine glass next to the plate. "Wine or food? I'm betting the wine, easier to slip something in."
There were some shouts in the background, "Make way for the King!" Karigan looked up, and there he was. He gave her a painful smile. "Somehow I knew you'd be here." When Zachary saw who was next to her, she could have sworn his smile tightened. Which was nonsense of course; why would he have any antipathy for one of his best generals?
"Finally someone with authority is here." The angry noble presented himself to The King.
"My Lord Coutre. What can I do for you?"
Of course! It was Estora's father. How awkward…she had always avoided meeting him if she could, and Estora had made it easy. No wonder he resented her. Karigan represented everything that was improper and uncultured in his eyes.
"My King, this trumped up Rider girl has barged in here and given orders, even slapped a noble lady! I demand you do something—"
"Uncle? Uncle? Uncle! No…no…it can't be!" Karigan hardly recognized the man she had met earlier as Charles Avery, Lord of Eastwick as he rushed to the side of the man who had caused so much commotion.
She turned to Sora and said softly, "Who is he exactly?"
"Never saw him before tonight in my life."
Lord Eastwick looked up from shaking the arm of the prostrate man. "My uncle, I think he's…he's…dead."
Nobody spoke for a minute, and the silence was painful. Avery's proclamation was no new news, but his grief was not something the nobles wanted to deal with, or even witness.
Karigan heard a familiar voice break the silence. "Let me through, let me in. What's this about a dead…oh." Master Destarian took a good look at him and patted Avery gently on the shoulder. "His heart, I dare say, but I'll need to find out for sure."
He looked around, and seeing Karigan, gave her a pointed look but said nothing. Destarian just came and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully; she couldn't have gotten up on her own.
When another man with two followers emerged through the already crowded circle, Karigan was beginning to get impatient. Who was that man, and could someone get on with it already?
The new man had shoulder length blond-brown hair pulled back with generally pleasing features, on a normal day that would be. Currently, he was scowling, and that drew his face into an arresting display of shadows and angles. He didn't need to say a word, people just melted away from him. From his blue-trimmed black, he had to be one of the palace investigators.
He inclined his head ever so slightly to the King. "Majesty. What happened? Who is that?"
Karigan resisted rolling her eyes. Really, everyone wanted to know!
"Well, someone's got to know who his is!" He looked around at the wide-eyed audience.
Lord Eastwick took a step forward. "He is…was my uncle, Baron Halkins. He came just this morning with my Aunt Georgina for a quiet visit, with the family and all. I…can't believe he's dead!" He looked so pitiful, Karigan patted his arm in sympathy, and he took hers as if it were a lifeline. "He doesn't come to court much, so not many would recognize him."
The Inspector seemed to accept that for the time being, and turned to Destarian. "Your opinion?"
"Could be heart attack, or it could be the wine, I'll need to take him to the infirmary."
"Go ahead. Did anyone see it happen?"
General Sora straightened. "Apparently only the Baron's wife. She was…rather vocal about it. Lady Karigan had to slap her."
His eyes turned on her, and Karigan suppressed a shiver. Hazel eyes had always seemed in the past to be nice eyes, gentle and harmless. His weren't. They were the eyes of a predator, a stalker.
Karigan could see his mind working, and he came to a conclusion with what she interpreted as slight disbelief. "G'ladheon, Rider?"
"Lady Karigan, Sub chief to Clan G'ladheon. Also a Rider and one of my personal advisors, Inspector Vyllord." Zachary said in a soft steely voice. Mapstone touched his arm, but he held eyes with Vyllord until the other gave a slight nod in assent. Then he turned to attend her. She began whispering hurriedly in his ear. His Weapons looked dangerous and true to their name. Karigan just felt tired.
Destarian's men lifted the body onto a cloth stretcher, and Karigan, still held firm by Avery's grief-stricken hold, gestured to the floor. "That's the food he was carrying, and his wine glass. None spilled; he must have drunk it all."
Vyllord made no response, but bent to study the evidence.
When she turned, she found Sora attempting to gently pry Avery off of her arm. "My dear man, I know it's dreadful, but your aunt needs comforting; she needs you right now. You need to go to her."
He summoned one of the Inspector's assistants. "Lord Eastwick is the Baron's nephew, please take him to his aunt; she is distraught." The attendant led Eastwick away, and Sora turned.
"Poor man. Avery. The dead don't feel pain or sorrow."
Karigan gave him a bleak look. "Will you excuse me? I think I need to retire."
He looked surprised. "Of course. Shall I see you out?"
"No…I came with my aunts…" Not that she was planning on getting near them. All she wanted to do was go to her room beneath the castle and curl up in her own bed.
She made it out of the ballroom without any notice, but when she reached the first lonely stone corridor, Karigan leaned her cheek against the cool wall and wept.
She dreamed of F'ryan again.
He looked at her out of gray eyes in a wispy gray face clothed in gray. Only the brooch glinted gold on his breast.
"What do you want? I broke all the arrows I could find, I delivered the message, I did everything I could do! What else do you want from me?"
Karigan could make out the few with black arrows still in their backs drifting in and out at the edges; the few she hadn't saved. Their eyes felt accusing.
Karigan fell to her knees, seemingly healed in her dreams. She dropped her head forward into her hands. "Something's horribly wrong, like before…I don't know what to do! I need someone to tell me what to do!"
She looked up, feeling a slight pressure on the back of her neck. There was a brief impression of F'ryan before the dream melted away, leaving the bare stone walls of a palace corridor. She had fallen asleep in the hallway.
"I hope no one's seen me." Of course they hadn't. If they had, they would have wakened her. She got on all fours, then used the wall to get to her feet. The dress needed a thorough cleaning after a night spent in the dusty corridor, and her limbs all felt stiff. Remembering where F'ryan had touched her, Karigan put her hand to the back of her neck. Nothing. Oh, the skin was cool, but the corridor was cool anyway. It had been a dream, after all.