The answer to her question came quickly as a thin voice breathed whispered words into her ear.
Kethry grimaced angrily. "Lady's eyes, child, I shouldn't wonder that you tire -- you're still torn up from the birthing! What kind of a miserable excuse for a Healer have you got here, anyway?"
"We have no Healer, lady," one of the three older women who had borne Myria back into the keep rose from her seat behind Kethry and stood between them, challenge written in her stance. She had a kind, but careworn face; her gray and buff gown was of good stuff, but old-fashioned in cut. Kethry guessed that she must be Myria's companion, an older relative, perhaps. "The Healer died before my dove came to childbed and her lord did not see fit to replace him. We had no use for a Healer, or so he claimed. After all, he kept no great number of men-at-arms; he warred with no one. He felt that birthing was a perfectly normal procedure and surely didn't require the expensive services of a Healer."
"Now, Katran -- "
"It is no more than the truth! He cared more for his horses than for you! He replaced the farrier quickly enough when he left!"
"His horses were of more use to him," the girl said bitterly, then bit her lip. "There, you see, that is what brought me to this pass -- one too many careless remarks let fall among the wrong ears."
Kethry nodded, liking the girl; the child was not the pampered pretty she had first thought. No windows to this chamber, only the one entrance; a good bit more like a cell than a bower, it occurred to her. A comfortable cell, but a cell still. She stood, smoothed her buff-colored robe with an unconscious gesture, and unsheathed the sword that seldom left her side.
"Lady, what -- " Katran stood, startled by the gesture.
"Peace; I mean no ill. Here," Kethry said, bending over Myria and placing the blade in the startled girl's hands, "hold this for a bit."
Myria took the blade, eyes wide, a puzzled expression bringing a bit more life to her face. "But -- "
"Women's magic, child. For all that blades are a man's weapon, Need here is strong in the magic of women. She serves women only -- it was her power that called me here to aid you -- and given an hour of your holding her, she'll Heal you. Now, go on. You fell asleep."
Myria accepted the blade gingerly, then settled the sword somewhat awkwardly across her knees and took a deep breath. "Something woke me, a sound of something falling, I think. You can see that this room connects with my Lord's chamber, that in fact the only way in or out is through his chamber. I saw a candle burning, so I rose to see if he needed anything. He -- he was slumped over his desk. I thought perhaps he had fallen asleep."
"You thought he was drunk, you mean," the older woman said wryly.
"Does it matter what I thought? I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, because he wore dark colors always. I reached out my hand to shake him -- and it came away bloody!"
"And she screamed fit to rouse the household," Katran finished.
"And when we came, she had to unlock the door for us," said the second woman, silent till now. "Both doors into that chamber were locked -- hallside with the lord's key, seneschal's side barred from within this room. And the bloody dagger that had killed him was under her bed."
"Whose was it?"
"Mine, of course," Myria answered. "And before you ask, there was only one key to the hallside door; it could only be opened with the key, and the key was under his hand. It's an ensorcelled lock; even if you made a copy of the key the copy would never unlock the door."
"Warrl?" The huge beast rose from the shadows where he'd been lying and padded to Kethry's side. Myria and her women shrank away a little at the sight of him.
"You can detect what I'd need a spell for. See if the bar was bespelled into place on the other door, would you? Then see if the spell on the lock's been tampered with."
The dark gray, nearly black beast trotted out of the room on silent paws, and Myria shivered.
"I can see where the evidence against you is overwhelming, even without misheard remarks."
"I had no choice in this wedding," Myria replied, her chin rising defiantly, "but I have been a true and loyal wife to my lord."
"Loyal past his deserts, if you ask me," Katran grumbled. "Well, that's the problem, lady-mage. My Lady came to this marriage reluctant, and it's well known. It's well known that he didn't much value her. And there's been more than a few heard to say they thought Myria reckoned to set herself up as Keep-ruler with the Lord gone."
Warrl padded back into the room, and flopped down at Kethry's feet.
"Well, fur-brother?"
He shook his head negatively, and the women stared at this evidence of like-human intelligence.
"Not the bar nor the lock, hmm? And how do you get into a locked room without a key? Still... Lady, is all as it was in the other room?"
"Yes, the priest was one of the first in the door, and would not let anyone change so much as a dust mote. He only let them take the body away."
"Thank the Goddess!" Kethry gave the exclamation something of a prayerful cast. She started to rise herself, then stared curiously at the girl. "Lady, why did you choose to prove yourself as you did?"
"Lady-mage -- "
Kethry was surprised at the true expression of guilt and sorrow the child wore.
"If I had guessed strangers would be caught in this web I never would have. I -- I thought that my kin would come to my defense. I came to this marriage of their will, I thought at. least one of them might -- at least try. I don't think anyone here would dare the family's anger by killing one of the sons, even if the daughter is thought worthless by most of them." A slow tear slid down one cheek, and she whispered her last words. "My youngest brother, I thought at least was fond of me...."
The spell Kethry had set in motion was still active; she whispered another question to the tiny air-entity she had summoned. This time the answer made her smile, albeit sadly.
"Your youngest brother, child, is making his way here afoot, having ridden his horse into foundering trying to reach you in time. He is swearing by every god that if you have been harmed he will not leave stone on stone here."
Myria gave a tiny cry and buried her face in her hands; Katran moved to comfort her as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Kethry stood, and made her way into the other room. Need's magic was such that the girl would hold the blade until she no longer required its power. While it gave Kethry an expertise in swordwork a master would envy, it would do nothing to augment her magical abilities, so it was fine where it was. Right now there was a mystery to solve, and two lives hung in the balance until Kethry could puzzle it out.
As she surveyed the outer room, she wondered how Tarma was faring.