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«You're right, of course», she whispered, stepping a little back from him, though her one hand lingered on his sleeve before surrendering the touch of him. «I should see if Zoë is all right».

Smiling tremulously, she kissed the fingertips of her right hand, then touched them to his lips as she murmured, «Good night, dear Kenneth».

With that, she made her way quickly back to the door of her own room and went inside, closing and barring it after her.

* * *

Very early the next morning, shortly after first light, a furious pounding on the door brought both Alyce and Zoë bolt-upright in their bed.

«What on earth?» Zoë murmured.

Alyce was already tumbling from the bed and padding toward the door, pulling back the bolt, wrenching the door wide enough to reveal a very frightened-looking squire — one of those promoted from page the day before.

«Lady Alyce, you're to come to the stable yard at once», he blurted. «The king commands it».

«The king? Whatever for?» Zoë asked, coming up behind Alyce.

«There's been an accident, miss», the boy replied.

«What kind of accident?» Alyce wanted to know.

«Just come, my lady, please!» The boy looked scared and desperate. «I'm not to give you any further details».

«Why ever not —?» Zoë began.

«We'd best get dressed», Alyce cut in, starting to close the door and then looking at the boy again. «It's Trevor, isn't it?»

«Yes, my lady». The boy immediately calmed at this remembrance of his name. «You'd best wrap up warm, my lady. It's bitter cold out there. And poor Krispin…»

He broke off, frightened-looking, biting at his lip, and Alyce exchanged a glance with Zoë before closing the door.

«What do you suppose happened?» Zoë whispered, as she and Alyce hastily pulled on warm woolen gowns over their nightdresses, then set about donning stockings and sturdy boots.

«I don't know», said Alyce. «But Trevor was in a dreadful state».

They finished dressing, pulled on warm cloaks and caps and gloves, and raced down to the stable yard right behind Trevor. But to their surprise, he led them on toward the secondary yard, where about a dozen men were clustered around the well-head next to a large watering trough. The king and his brother were watching Sir Tiarnán MacRae and Sir Kenneth help a very young page out of the well itself, where a rope disappeared over the edge.

When the boy had cleared the edge, to be bundled in a warm cloak by Richard, two burly stablemen started to haul on the rope, obviously raising something heavier than a mere bucket of water. The king's physician and Duke Richard's battle-surgeon, Master Donnard, were there as well. All of them looked dreadful.

Pushing down a queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach, Alyce made her way to the side of Sir Jiri Redfearn, Zoë close behind her.

«Jiri, what's happened?» she murmured.

Jiri shook his head, never taking his eyes from the wellhead. «Bad business, my lady. Apparently, one of the pages fell down the well and drowned».

«Dear God, which one?» Zoë murmured.

«I'm afraid it's Lady Jessamy's lad, milady», Jiri said. «We've been looking for him most of the night».

«But — how could he fall down the well?» Alyce asked. «Surely it's too narrow».

Jiri shrugged. «We wondered that, too. He went in headfirst. They had to send another boy down to tie a rope around his ankles. Only way to get him out».

As he said that, two booted feet appeared over the edge of the well-head — a child's feet — and a flash of crimson page's livery, just before the men closed in around him to block any further view by the two young women.

«Stay here!» Jiri ordered, turning briefly to face them and pointing emphatically at the ground, before heading toward the well at a brisk trot.

Alyce and Zoë could not hear what the men were saying, but the king himself came to wrap his cloak around the little body as it emerged fully from the well, letting Richard and Kenneth help lay the boy on the ground. The two physicians moved in quickly, but only crouched briefly before reluctantly withdrawing, shaking their heads. Master Donnard looked particularly stunned. After a moment, the king himself came over to where the two young women waited, his face white and drawn. His glance at Zoë allowed for no appeal.

«Leave us, please. I would have a word in private with Lady Alyce».

When Zoë had withdrawn, wandering closer to where two young pages were anxiously craning their necks to see more of the fate of their young friend, the king turned back to Alyce, though not without a backward look over his shoulder in the direction of the well.

«Dear Alyce, I must ask a very great favor of you», he said in a very low voice. «There's been murder done here during the night, and I will know who is responsible».

«It was Krispin?» she murmured, stunned. «He was murdered?»

Donal closed his eyes briefly and nodded. «Aye, and worse than just murder. And it is I who must tell his mother. And because she is his mother, I cannot ask her to do what I now must ask of you».

«What would you have of me, Sire?» she whispered.

«If Morian were here, I would ask him, but…» Donal made a gesture of dismissal of the thought with one hand and returned his stunned gaze to her face, almost as if he had not heard her. «Alyce, I do not know the extent of your training, but I am hoping it will be enough to do what needs to be done. Do you know of a procedure called a death-reading?»

Cautiously she gave a nod.

«And have you had training in its use?»

She allowed herself a slight, ironic smile. «I know the theory, Sire. But I had little opportunity to apply it, at the convent. However, I am willing to do what I can».

He sighed and gave a nod. «I shall have the area cleared, then, so that you may work undisturbed — for I am given to understand that much can sometimes be learned from the place where the crime took place. And I would not expose you to any more notoriety than is necessary, by asking you to work before witnesses who, quite probably, would see such magery as a demonstration of demonic powers. Sir Kenneth, I believe, is somewhat accustomed to seeing you work, from having had you tend his injury last autumn?»

«Yes, Sire».

Donal allowed himself a snort of something approaching relief. «That is well, since you are to be wed. I shall ask him to attend you. Will you need other assistance?»

«His daughter and I are very close, Sire», Alyce ventured. «If I have the assistance of those two, and the yard is cleared, I shall do my best to discover what I may». She could not ask for Vera, for to do so might reveal her secret.

«Excellent. I will have the identity of his killers, Alyce», the king warned, fixing her with his gaze. «They used him most cruelly before they threw him down that well. Do you understand what I am saying?»

Speechless, she gave him a nod, trying to keep at bay the image that had flashed into her mind's eye.

«Good. I would know whether it was that or the drowning that killed him. In either case, such men do not deserve to live!»

She bowed her head in acceptance of his instructions. «I shall learn as much as possible, Sire».

Donal sighed and touched her hand with his. «Thank you. It is well — or, as well as it can be, given what has happened. I go now to tell Lady Jessamy. When you are finished here, you might come to her, for I think she shall need the healing sleep that comes best from one of your kind».

«Yes, Sire».

* * *

Five minutes later, the yard had been cleared and the two stable-arch doors closed, with men standing outside to prevent intrusion. On so bitter a winter day, it was not likely that many would seek the lower gardens or the tilting yard beyond. Kenneth had brought a low bench from the stable and set it close beside the shrouded form of the dead boy. There Alyce sank down, Zoë beside her, Kenneth kneeling on the opposite side.