A neighbor poked her head out of her front door and gave the half-elf an odd look as he pounded at the door. "Ailea must be home," the elven woman called. "I saw her at the window not five minutes ago."
Finally Tanis pulled the door open and stepped inside. Even before his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he knew something was wrong. He'd expected an excited midwife bustling out of a back room to tell him she'd solved Xenoth's slaying.
Instead, he smelled death. The door banged shut behind him.
The elderly midwife lay on her back before the fireplace, in a pool of her own blood. Her round eyes-those human eyes she had never been ashamed of-stared sightlessly at the beamed ceiling. Dozens of miniature paintings lay scattered around the room. Tanis could see that she had been able to move after the fatal blow was struck; a wide stain of blood stretched from the front door to the rug before the fireplace. One sleeve was pushed up past her elbow, and her lilac-colored skirt had been lifted slightly, revealing a slender calf and knee. Ailea's other hand held a portrait of two elven children.
Tanis didn't even have the breath to cry out. He found himself on his knees beside the elf's tiny body, mindless of the crimson liquid that soaked his leggings, his moccasins. Ailea's purple skirt was streaked with blood. He found himself fruitlessly trying to wipe it off, succeeding only in smearing it even more. He touched her face, hoping to feel her breath on his hand. But the elf's flesh, while still warm, had taken on the heaviness of death.
His fingers were covered with red. He rocked back to his heels, heart contracting in sorrow and rage.
Suddenly, he realized that someone had been pounding on the front door for some time. And at that moment, the door crashed open behind him. Tanis swiveled to face the newcomer.
"Great Reorx!" Flint cried out, then, "Ailea!"
Halfway to Ailea's house, Flint had stepped into the sea of elves and lost sight of Miral. But figuring that a mage who was eye-level with other elves had a better chance of penetrating the throng than a four-foot hill dwarf did, Flint had plunged on without looking for him.
Miral caught up with the dwarf on the doorstep of Ailea's house, as Flint knocked for the first time. The mage looked winded.
Flint ignored him. Instead, he began pounding at the door. Finally, he swung it open, saw Tanis's tear-streaked face look up at him, and cried out at the sight behind the half-elf.
… Then Flint had looked up to see the words scrawled in blood on the mantlepiece, words already turning brown as the fluid dried.
"Ailea," the message read, "I'm sorry."
"Understand the judgment that I must make," the Speaker said later from the rostrum in the Tower of the Sun. Hundreds of elves, attracted by the upcoming Kentommen, packed the entryway, though only nobles were allowed within the central chamber itself when the Speaker was holding court. There was a constant murmur of conversation in the background.
"Not since the Kinslayer Wars, Tanthalas, has the blood of an elf been spilled by an elf," Solostaran said, "and not only will we grieve the passing of a long-time faithful servant of this court, we will mourn the loss of the peace that this city has cherished for so long.
"But before we can mourn, he who has wrought this shadow must abide by its darkness. Thus you stand before me, Tanthalas Half-Elven. You have been accused of the murder of Eld Ailea, midwife."
Litanas muttered from his new position to the right of the rostrum, "He probably killed Lord Xenoth as well."
"In this deed, and in my wisdom," Solostaran intoned, "I have found you guilty."
Still garbed in the bloodstained garments he'd been wearing when the palace guards took him away from Ailea's house, Tanis winced but stood his ground. He heard a low growl behind him, and he knew it was Flint.
"Thus I proclaim that you, Tanthalas Half-Elven, shall be banished from all the lands of Qualinesti, and that the people of the land shall shun you as if you were one who had never been, lest they suffer a like punishment themselves."
Tanis's head reeled. Death would have been easier, he thought. The thought of leaving Qualinost made Tanis's heart ache as surely as if a dagger had been driven through it. For all his yearning to travel through Krynn, he had always assumed he would have Qualinost to return to.
Tyresian looked grimly triumphant as the Speaker spoke.
"Tanthalas, do you accept this judgment?" Solostaran asked.
Tanis opened his mouth to answer, unsure just what words were going to come out, but suddenly one of the guards next to him stumbled, and Tanis blinked in surprise as Flint clomped angrily forward to stand before the podium. "I don't know whether he accepts it or not," Flint growled, his hands on his hips but his eyes sorrowful. "But by Reorx, I know that I won't stand for it!"
Those gathered about the rostrum stared at the dwarf, stunned.
Flint was acutely aware of all the pairs of almond-shaped eyes gazing down on him, especially the Speaker's. They'll be tossing me out of the city any minute now, Flint thought, and then I won't be able to do the half-elf one bit of good. He thought suddenly of Ailea and realized that with Tanis banished and the midwife dead, he had little reason to remain in Qualinost.
He shook his head and assembled his thoughts. Surely Ailea would understand if he gathered his strength now to defend Tanthalas, her favorite. Flint would mourn the old midwife later, privately.
But Tanis needed him now. "Look here, Speaker," Flint started in a rumbling voice before the Speaker had a chance to say anything. "You've apparently listened to everything these elf lords have said about what happened-about what they believe happened, at least. There are no eyewitnesses-no witnesses, remember.
"Yet they've been quick to point the finger for this dark deed at Tanis," Flint continued. "I can think of others who are equally-no, more-suspect than the half-elf who had grown to love Ailea in the past weeks."
"Love!" snorted Tyresian. "An act!" "
And you, Lord Tyresian, are chief among my suspects!" Flint bellowed, pointing at the elf lord.
"Impossible," Tyresian rejoined. "I was helping to guard Porthios at the Grove when the old lady was killed."
Flint was momentarily nonplussed. Then he continued, "There is the question of the note. Presumably, the death of Eld Ailea is related to the slaying of Lord Xenoth. The midwife figured out the solution to that death, and as a result, someone killed her. Why, then, would she address the note to me and Tanthalas if she had evidence linking Tanis to Xenoth's death?"
The Speaker seemed inclined to allow the dwarf to continue, despite the affront to court decorum. "Yet the note is missing, Master Fireforge," Solostaran said. "No one but you saw it. Mage Miral only heard you read it, the child Fionia is too young to read, and Tanis, who also claims to have seen it, is the chief suspect. Further, no one but Tanis was seen entering or leaving the home before you and Miral arrived. And finally, why would Ailea's murderer apologize to her in a message on the mantlepiece if the murderer were not someone close to her?"
"I…" Hint faltered. "I confess that I don't know, Speaker. All I know is that the tale the evidence seems to spin cannot be the true one."
A wrinkle crossed the Speaker's brow; a look of puzzlement touched his face-and perhaps a flicker of hope.
"With all respect, Speaker, this is ludicrous," Tyresian objected, his voice low but his eyes flashing. "Since when does a common smith, and a dwarf at that, question the wisdom of the court?"