“I am pleased you are still alive,” the young centaur said hesitantly.
She glanced up at his earnest face. She could not think properly, could not put patterns together. Memory, imagination, and reality went back and forth and made no clear sense. Yes, she remembered riding out of Iyesta’s lair with Sir Morrec and the escort, but what happened after that? Why was Leonidas here? She rubbed her arms and finally formulated an answer. “Thank you.”
She said nothing more, only sat and stared and tried to think. As she watched the activity around her, the words spoken in her twilight sleep came back to her. It wasn’t the storm that killed them. She sat up a little straighter and grew more alert.
Sir Remmik sat on a horse about ten paces away, supervising the removal of the bodies. The bodies. Oh, gods, no. Linsha’s thoughts clutched at that painful reality. A squad of eight Knights had brought a wagon and some litters. Silently, they laid out the bodies of their fallen comrades, wrapped them in canvas, and laid them gently in the wagon. The rigidity of the body that usually occurred right after death had already begun to recede in the heat of the new day, making their job somewhat easier.
Linsha watched this process for several minutes until they came to the last body. When they turned him over, her vision blurred and her head sank to her knees. It was Sir Morrec.
The old Knight lay sprawled on his stomach, his sword near his hand, and his uniform still soaked with rain. The hilt of a dagger protruded from his back.
“Get that dagger out and give it to me,” ordered Sir Remmik. “I want all of you to witness where it was found.”
Silently, and without looking at Linsha, a Knight pulled the dagger out of the dead man’s back and handed it to Sir Remmik. He wrapped it in a piece of cloth and put it carefully in a saddlebag, while the Knights wrapped Sir Morrec and placed him atop the pile of bodies.
“Now, if you’re finished, Sir Hugh, you will place Rose Knight Majere under arrest and escort her back to the Citadel. She is to be placed in the cells until her trial.”
Leonidas stamped a hoof hard on the ground. “What?” he cried. “On trial? For what?”
Sir Remmik at least had the decency to look pained. “I intend to charge her with murder and treason. At the very least she should be imprisoned for dereliction of duty.”
The other Knights looked astounded. Only Linsha, still sitting on the ground, bowed her head. She was not surprised. In Remmik’s place, she would have done the same. She had recognized the dagger the moment Sir Hugh pulled it from the commander’s body, and her heart sank to her knees. Surely it wasn’t possible that she had killed Sir Morrec. She stared down at her hands and saw the rain had washed them clean. There was no blood to incriminate her, and the blood on her clothes was her own. But, unbidden came an image to her mind of a black, faceless figure moving toward her with a sword. Could it have been?
Linsha shut her thoughts off. She could not remember what had happened clearly enough to prove her innocence. Probably nothing would prove her innocence to Sir Remmik’s mind, but she felt too sick and befuddled to argue with him at this moment.
The same could not be said for the buckskin centaur. He barged forward, full of zeal, and pushed up against Sir Remmik’s horse. “Did you take a close look at this scene? Your Knights were attacked! Don’t you want to know who did this? Don’t you want to start looking for the culprits? It’s obvious the Lady Knight was attacked, too. Their attacker probably took her dagger and killed Sir Morrec. There are no other bodies here. Don’t you find that suspicious? Why waste your time on punishing your own Knights?”
The new commander of the Solamnic Knights leveled a disdainful glare on the centaur. “I do not consider it a waste to uphold the honor and justice of the Order. A grave crime has been committed here, and I will not allow the culprit to escape punishment. Not this time. We will conduct our own investigation. Now back off. Sir Hugh, do your duty.”
The younger Knight stared at his commander, then looked doubtfully at the Rose Knight. The reluctance was plain on his face as he climbed down from the wagon and moved to obey.
Linsha forestalled him by tottering to her feet. She wanted to stand alone and walk to the wagon, but the ground developed a nasty wave, rocking and heaving beneath her feet. She would have fallen if Leonidas hadn’t hurried to her side and caught her arm. Sick and shivering in her wet clothes, she leaned against his warm side and tried not to pass out again.
Leonidas exchanged a look with the second centaur and tilted his head toward the west, the direction of Iyesta’s lair. The other centaur indicated his understanding with a brief nod and left. No one tried to stop him.
“If the commander will allow me,” Leonidas said, his disapproval still radiating in his eyes, “I will carry his prisoner back to the Citadel. She cannot yet walk unaided.”
Sir Remmik paused, torn between the desire to drag her back on foot or the need to make her sit on the wagon with the bodies. Finally common sense prevailed. It was obvious she could not make it as far as the Citadel on her own feet.
“Do I have your word you will not try to carry her off?” he growled. “If you try, I will have my Knights shoot you.”
Leonidas touched his left shoulder with his right hand in the salute of the centaur militia. “My word.”
“If you insist,” Remmik said. “Take a place behind the wagon.” He wheeled his horse away from the centaur to face the other Knights. “Mount up!”
While the Knights mounted and formed a column behind the wagon, Leonidas helped Linsha onto his back. She clutched the mane on his withers and tried not to let her head sink onto his shoulder “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You are an unexpected ally.”
The centaur readjusted his bow and quiver across his back so they did not interfere with Linsha’s face. “You could have pressed charges against me for shooting at you,” he said equally as quietly. “Uncle expected you to. But you didn’t. I owe you. Besides, this is a travesty. It is obvious you were attacked.”
“But I don’t remember,” she murmured, her voice dangerously close to tears. “What if I did kill Sir Morrec? The storm was so…” Her words trailed off.
“I can’t believe you would do such a thing,” he said forcefully. “You are too experienced to make a mistake like that.”
“You give me much credit.”
“Why doesn’t your commander?”
“He wants me to be guilty.”
The buckskin was so surprised by her remark that he could not think of anything to say. He suddenly noticed the Solamnics were waiting for him and hurried into place, his expression thunderous.
At Sir Remmik’s command, the procession began the slow, sad ride back through the Missing City. Linsha paid little attention at first. She still felt groggy and queasy, and all she could think about was lying down again. Even in a cell. At least a cell would be dark and quiet.
But after a while, Leonidas, worried about her silence, whispered, “Have you noticed?”
She lifted her head, opened her eyes, and looked around, getting ready to say, “Noticed what?” Then the truth hit her and surprise nearly knocked her off the centaur’s back. The procession was nearing the Artisans’ District where many new houses and shops had been built in the manner of Gal Tra’kalas. The phantom images of the elven town had always been lively here with busy streets, populated homes, and lovely gardens. Now those images were gone, totally erased. There was nothing. No elf, no building, no animal, no flower left of Gal Tra’kalas. As far as Linsha could see there were only the real buildings of wood and stone and mortar.