"They helped;"
"Did they? Every time some fool jumped at his own shadow and shouted 'werewolf!' you went racing off to track it down. And how many did you find, out of all those dozens of hunts? One. Just one. That was why the King made you resign, wasn't it? Not just because you'd reached the retirement age, but because you were never there when he needed you!"
"Don't," whispered Roderik, squeezing his eyes shut. Elaine rose quickly out of her chair and hurried over to kneel beside him. She put a hand on his arm, and he reached blindly across to squeeze it tightly.
"It's all right, my dear," said Elaine softly. "I'm not angry with you, I'm just worried. Worried about you. You've been so; different lately."
"Different?" Roderik opened his eyes and looked at her uncertainly. "How do you mean, different?"
"Oh, I don't know; moody, irritable, easily upset. I'm not blind, you know. And there've been other things;"
"Elaine;"
"Once a month, you go off on your own. You don't come back for days on end, and when you do, you won't tell me where you've been or what you've been doing."
"I have my reasons," said Roderik gruffly.
"Yes," said Elaine, "I think you do. You mustn't feel badly about it. Rod. When a man gets to your age I know that sometimes they, well, start to feel insecure about; themselves. I just want you to know that I don't mind, as long as you come home to me."
"You don't mind?" said Roderik slowly. "Elaine, what are you talking about?"
"I don't mind that you have another woman," said Elaine steadily. "You shouldn't look so astonished, my dear. It wasn't that difficult to work out. You have a mistress. It really doesn't matter."
Roderik stood up, took his wife by the shoulders and made her stand up, facing him. He tried to say something, and couldn't. He took her in his arms and held her tightly. "Elaine, my dear, my love. I promise you I don't have another woman. You're the only woman I ever wanted, the only woman I've ever loved. I promise you; there's never been anyone in my life but you, and there never will be."
"Then where have you been going all these months?"
Roderik sighed, and held her away from him so that he could look at her. "I can't tell you, Elaine. Just believe me when I say I don't go because I want to, I go because I have to. It's important."
"You mean it's; political?"
"In a way. I can't talk about it, Elaine. I can't."
"Very well, my dear." Elaine leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Tell me about it when you can. Now let's go to bed. It's been a long day."
"I think I'll sit up for a while. I'm not sleepy. You go to bed. I won't be long."
Elaine nodded, and turned away to pull back the sheet. She didn't see the tears that glistened in Roderik's eyes for a moment. When she looked at him again, having first settled herself comfortably in bed, he was sitting on the chair, staring at nothing.
"Rod;"
"Yes?"
"Who do you think killed William?"
"I don't know. I can't even see how he was killed, never mind who or why."
"Are we in any danger?"
"I shouldn't think so. Gaunt is on guard now; nothing will get by him. And there's always the two Guards downstairs. They're proficient enough at the simple things, I suppose. There's nothing for you to worry about, my dear. Go to sleep."
"Yes, Rod. Blow out the lamp when you come to bed."
"Elaine;"
"Yes?"
"I love you. Whatever happens, never doubt that I love you."
The witch Visage lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn't really like the bed. It was very comfortable, but it was too big. She felt lost in it. She stirred restlessly under the single thin sheet covering her. She felt hot and clammy, but she didn't like to throw back the sheet, not in a stranger's house. She'd feel naked and defenseless. Not that she was in any danger. She'd locked the door and set the wards. No one and nothing could get to her now. She was safe.
But only for the moment. She'd worked for William Blackstone all her adult life, and she didn't know what would become of her now that he was dead. William had always been much more than an employer to her; he had been her god. He was wise and just, and he fought the forces of evil in Haven. He always knew what to do, and he was always right, and if he hardly ever noticed the quiet young witch at his side, well, that was only to be expected. He always had so many important things on his mind.
Graham Dorimant had noticed her. He was always kind to her, and said nice things, and noticed when she wore a new dress. Perhaps he would look after her and take care of her. It was a nice thought.
Visage thought of the two Guards who'd questioned her, and frowned. They'd been polite enough, she supposed, but they hadn't really liked her. She could tell. She could always tell. And Hawk, the one with the scars and the single cold eye; He frightened her. She didn't like to be frightened. Visage pouted unhappily in the darkness. She'd told the Guards about Katherine and Edward, but they hadn't believed her. Not really. But all they had to do was start digging, and they'd find out the truth. And then everyone would see what had really been going on.
If the truth was ever allowed to come out. Visage scowled. There were a great many people who wouldn't want the truth to get out. After all, it might taint William's memory. Well, she didn't want that, but she couldn't let Katherine and Edward get away with it. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let that happen. They had murdered her William, and they would pay for it, one way or another. Her hand went to the bone amulet that hung on a silver chain around her neck. She might be only a witch, but she had power of her own, and she would use it if she had to. If there was no other way to get justice for William. Visage sighed tiredly. Poor William. She would miss him very much. She'd followed him for so many years; and now she would have to find someone else to follow. Someone else to tell her what to do. She'd talk to Graham about it in the morning. He liked her. She could tell.
The sorcerer Gaunt lay on his bed, in his laboratory. The air was deliciously cool and fresh, the summer heat kept at bay by his spells. The room was brightly lit by half a dozen oil lamps. For many reasons, some of them practical, Gaunt felt uneasy about sleeping in the dark. He lay on his back and looked slowly round the familiar, crowded room, taking in the plain wooden benches and their alchemical equipment, the shelves of ingredients, all neatly stacked in their proper order; Gaunt felt at home in the laboratory, in a way he never did anywhere else in the house. He didn't really like the house much, if truth be told, but he needed it. He needed the security and the privacy it gave him, even if he did tend to rattle around in it like a single seed in a pod. There were times when he was tempted to give in to Stalker and sell him the damn house, but he never did. He couldn't.
He put forth his mind and tested the wards in and around the house, like a spider testing the many strands of its web. Everything was peaceful, everything as it should be. All was quiet. Gaunt frowned slightly. It worried him that he still had no idea how William had died. It worried him even more that the killer had to be one of his guests. There was no way an assassin could have got past his defenses without him knowing. And yet he'd known these people for years, known and trusted them; It just didn't seem possible.
Gaunt sighed tiredly. Everyone had their secrets, their own hidden darkness. He of all people should know that.
"Darling;"
The voice was soft, husky, alluring. Gaunt swallowed dryly. Just the sound of her voice sent little thrills of pleasure through him, but he wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't.
"Why don't you call to me, darling? All you have to do is call, and I'll come to you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He didn't answer. He was a sorcerer, and he was in control.
"Always the same. You want me, but you won't admit it. You desire me, but you fight against it. I can't think why. If you didn't want me, why did you summon me?"