The squire took Kara by the arm and led her away, Doric following. Several peons and squires formed a cordon around them as a sombre guard. Still others remained behind to guard the bodies of Bryant and Sir Balladish.
No one spoke, for no words they knew could express the bitter emptiness they all felt.
THIRTY-FIVE
The two bodies were brought back to the castle under cover of darkness.
Theodore sat in vigil over Bryant’s body in the castle’s chapel, the young peon wrapped in a white cloth and laid before the altar. Soon after, he heard a noise and turned to watch the other squires walk quietly in to sit on the benches behind him, their faces downcast in grief and their heads bowed in respect.
As each passed Theodore they grasped his shoulder in a gesture of support. Never before had such a thing happened to any of them, and the event unified them in grief.
On searching the house, the knights found the body of the old woman, a well-known resident of the city who was a professional beggar.
Elise’s body was discovered in the ward when the guard woke. Kara understood that the murderer had meant her to die, and not the nurse. Her chocolate drink was spilled next to the body and Theodore-his grief overwhelming him-finally told Kara the truth.
She knew now that Sir Amik had deliberately used her as bait, spreading rumours that she remembered more than she did in an attempt to draw out the traitor. She also knew that he had invited the almshouse residents to help educate the peons in place of the knights, in order to put the traitor in their midst and within range of harming her.
Kara lay in her bed, but she could not sleep. She went through the fight in her mind, wondering if she could have taken another course of action that would have kept the young peon alive.
Was I too hasty to prove myself? Was I too eager to fight, to show the knights that I am as good as they are?
In the small hours before dawn, she pondered the death of Elise and the morality of Sir Amik’s actions in placing her in danger. An innocent woman had been killed by a calculating murderer. The poison’s components had been found on Sir Balladish. She knew that it was accepted by many, without question, that he had been the traitor all along, and that while he was murdering Bryant, the peon had managed to deliver a lethal blow with his own dagger before collapsing to the ground of the alley.
Sir Balladish.
Had her father ever mentioned that name to her, all those years ago? If he had, she could not recall it. Of course, for all she knew her father wasn’t Justrain at all.
Would they have lied about that also? Could they really be so deceitful? I have been a pawn in their game, used only to suit their purposes.
Suddenly she hated the knights and their hypocrisy. An innocent life had been taken-and she felt as if she was partly to blame. If she hadn’t arrived at the castle, then Elise would still be alive. Was it her own fault that Sir Amik had used her as bait? Was it her fault that she had so swiftly and unquestioningly embraced the possibility that Justrain might be her father, thus letting Theodore spy on her on Sir Amik’s behalf?
Theodore!
She thought of the young man and her affection for him, and the remembrance of how he had used that affection turned her heart bitter. He was Sir Amik’s instrument. He had lied to her as much as anyone else.
Kara lifted her head from her pillow. She knew what she needed to do.
Sir Amik and Sir Tiffy analysed the situation. Neither man had visited the scene at Dagger Alley, so Sir Finistere’s and Sir Pallas’s reports were used to provide the facts from which they were to draw their conclusions. The two men had debated throughout the night, Sir Tiffy with his books spread before him, documenting the history of the traitor’s existence since the revelations of Justrain had prompted a quiet investigation all those years ago.
“Does it add up?” Sir Amik asked. “Could Balladish have been the traitor?”
“Any of them could have been,” Sir Tiffy replied sombrely. “Sir Balladish was in the right places at the right times; he had access to all of the necessary knowledge. It would not have been easy for him, however, and luck must have played a significant part in his ability to remain undetected for so long. That he should be brought to justice at the hand of his own young victim…” The old knight shook his head in wonder.
Sir Amik nodded.
“So you believe that Sir Balladish was the traitor.”
Sir Tiffy thought for a moment before answering. The evidence was overwhelming. The man had been found with the components for a lethal poison on his person, a blood-stained dagger next to him, close to the body of a murdered peon. It had been Bryant’s knowledge that had posed such a threat to him, for if Kara had been killed by the poison in her drink, then the peon would have come forward to raise uncomfortable questions. Only Bryant, who had delivered the herbs, knew of the deadly ingredients that came from the apothecary.
“Yes, I believe it to be so” he replied finally. “As a matter of caution, however, I suggest you send the residents back to the almshouse and away from Kara. She has suffered enough at our hands.”
Sir Amik nodded, painfully aware that he had acted ruthlessly. He remembered Bhuler’s long looks of reproach as his valet had guessed at the turmoil in his mind. With a pull of the red rope that hung over his desk, he summoned his valet, who waited patiently outside.
“Have them take the traitor’s body away at dawn,” Sir Amik ordered. “See to it yourself. Take it far away, out of the city, to a desolate spot south of here, and bury it deep in the earth in an unmarked grave.”
Bhuler nodded and left to carry out the grisly instructions.
Guilt assailed Marius over how he had behaved to Bryant when the boy was alive.
Yet Bryant needed to be strong, he told himself, and he needed to be goaded harder than the others.
Was I wrong to do that? he wondered. Is it wrong to drive the peons, to ensure they appreciate the harshness of life outside the castle walls? Even if it is right to do so, why did I enjoy humiliating him so much?
He could not escape from the uncomfortable truth. He had singled Bryant out time and again to illustrate the weakness of the peon and to highlight what he perceived as Theodore’s indulgent leadership. The knights were warriors. They were expected to give their lives in the service of Saradomin. They needed to be strong.
But then his actions toward Kara had reminded him that in his own way he was weak.
If I were truly strong, I would have taken her hand after our battle.
He recalled the tears on Theodore’s face throughout the night as he had stood amongst his fellow squires. Theodore had been unashamed to show his grief. And Marius admired him all the more for it, for it showed his belief in himself, uncaring of what others thought.
Do I have such strength? Marius wondered inwardly.
He stood outside the ward as first light illuminated the eastern sky, unsure of how to apologise to Kara. Apologies did not come easily to him, but he knew he had to give one. He knew he had been wrong.
He knocked first and waited for a moment. When there was no answer he knocked again and the door opened under the force of his fist.
The ward was empty.
Kara was gone.
THIRTY-SIX
“Come lad, drink this” Doric held a steaming mug out to the youngster.
Theodore took it and drank without bothering to check what it was. His mind was far away and his eyes were still misty from tears.
The sound of running feet caught his attention, however. No one should be running in the chapel while Bryant lay there. Theodore rose in anger, his face flushing as his temper soared.