Sovereign Sieged

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Sovereign Sieged Page 18

by Sarah E. Burr


  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they stood still for a few moments, letting their eyes adjust to the dim light. Only one flickering sconce hung from the ceiling of the cellar, illuminating the wide expanse just enough to make out the rows and rows of endless barrels of wine and mead. Indeed, the cellar was well-stocked.

  Whispers floated around the kegs, indicating that Charles was somewhere toward the back of the chamber. With careful steps, Jax and George followed the low murmurs, finding Charles hunched over a worktable in a small back room with—

  “Sabine! What in the Virtues are you doing down here?” Jax gasped, stunned to see the petite young woman wearing an apron covered in dried blood.

  Their silent approach must have startled the girl, as she stepped back from the table with a squeal. “Goodness!” A soiled hand went to her chest. “You gave me a fright.”

  Charles glanced over his shoulder, barely breaking his concentration from whatever he was working on. “Sabine offered her assistance. I figured you’d want answers sooner rather than later, Duchess, and two heads are better than one.”

  Arriving at the royal healer’s side, Jax’s insides wriggled at the improvised worktable of empty barrels that had been assembled. Olavo’s naked form lay sagging across the top, save for a makeshift loin cloth to protect the dead man’s dignity. Dried blood clung to his moon-white skin, sprouting from the odd hole in the middle of his airless chest. A long cut sliced through his stomach, revealing an empty cavern within the man. The organs that had once occupied the space had been strewn out on another temporary table of barrels for examination. “I see you two have been busy.”

  Both Sabine and Charles smiled weakly at Jax’s dry humor. “Lady Sabine has never partaken in an autopsy before, so I’ve been doing a little more than necessary to show her the myriad of information the human body contains after death.” Charles pointed a bloody finger over to the side table. “We just finished analyzing Olavo’s stomach contents before you arrived.”

  Seems hardly relevant in this case. Jax kept her annoyance to herself. If Charles hadn’t been so busy going above and beyond to teach Sabine, he may have delivered important information sooner. “Well, perhaps we can return to the matter at hand. Did you figure out a time of death?”

  Sabine grimaced, clearly catching the irritation in Jax’s voice. “Master Charles demonstrated how to use the warmth of the organs to determine how long the body has been dormant.” She wriggled her blood-soaked fingers for Jax to see. “Based on the coolness of Olavo’s heart by the time he was brought down to the cellar, we can guess he died sometime around two in the morning.”

  George propped his good arm against the temporary autopsy table, drumming his fingers. “I’ll have Corporal Highriver obtain a report from the nighttime sentries to see if anything on the estate grounds seemed out of the ordinary around that hour.”

  “We’ll question the whole household and see if anyone heard anything in the night, as well,” Jax added as a plan of attack took shape in her mind. “If Olavo died around two, it would have taken the culprit at least another hour to clean up the mess. Someone must have seen or heard something. These walls aren’t that thick.”

  Charles wiped his hands on the apron tied to his healer’s robes. “What about your guardsmen, Jax? Wasn’t anyone assigned to the third floor?”

  She shook her head. “With the protection around the estate’s barrier, the only guardsmen inside the manor are stationed on the first floor.”

  George gave her a pointed look. “They’ll be able to tell us if anyone was moving around the main floor last night.”

  The hesitation in his gaze chilled Jax to her core. She understood exactly what his words implied. If the nighttime patrol hadn’t reported any activity by now, it meant that the person who attacked Olavo had not made an appearance downstairs during the night. Which meant Olavo’s killer was someone confined to the second and third floor halls…one of her friends.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Catching the wary glances that flickered between Charles and Sabine at her prolonged silence, Jax cleared her throat and redirected the conversation. “Have you been able to determine what killed Olavo?”

  Charles snorted. “I’m assuming you mean the murder weapon, as it’s pretty obvious what killed the man.” His amber eyes darted to the small hole in the center of the Tandorian’s chest.

  Jax rolled her eyes at his sarcastic response. “Yes, Charles, the murder weapon.”

  Hunching over the body, the smirking physician inched closer to the wound until his nose nearly touched the bloodied skin. “I must say, I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never seen a weapon inflict this sort of mark. Captain, I don’t know about you, but last I knew, swords and daggers did not leave perfectly round holes in human flesh.”

  George leaned in to examine the laceration. “No, I can’t say I know of any weapon that leaves behind a mark like that.”

  Jax tore her gaze away from the gruesome hole. “Did you find anything that might give us some sort of clue as to where this came from?”

  Nodding, Charles scurried over to the side table and collected a small piece of cloth. “Perhaps this might be of help.” He held out a bloodstained swatch.

  “Did you find that on the body?” Jax asked.

  Sabine shook her head. “No. It’s from when Master Charles had me clean the wound.” Taking the cloth gingerly from Charles, she held it closer to Jax’s keen gaze. “Have a closer look.”

  With narrowed eyes, Jax scanned the wash cloth, unable to see past the saturated crimson fibers for a few seconds. Just as she was about to declare defeat, she spotted a smear of black running along the center. What in the Virtues? Jax glanced up at Sabine. “Is that soot?”

  Sabine shrugged. “Your guess is as good as ours, Duchess.”

  “And for the final piece of the puzzle,” Charles continued, “when I examined the laceration, it appeared as though Olavo’s insides had been nearly cauterized.”

  Cauterized? Jax leaned over the corpse to assess the wound herself. Whatever had killed Olavo had been hot and left a trail of soot behind. Closing her eyes, she visualized Olavo’s bedroom, her attention locked on the fireplace. It couldn’t have been a piece of wood. Charles would have found charred remains imbedded in Olavo’s chest, and besides, a piece of firewood couldn’t have left a perfectly round hole. She focused harder, her memory becoming more clear with each passing second. Had the murder weapon somehow been burned away along with the linens used to clean up the blood? She pictured her hand grabbing the iron poker and foraging through the mountain of coal and ash…

  “The fire poker!” She snapped her fingers as it clicked into place. “There is a fire poker right next to the hearth in Sir Olavo’s chambers. The soot, the circular shape…it all adds up. The culprit must have taken the poker and driven it through Olavo’s chest.”

  Sabine shuddered. “What a horrible way to die.”

  Charles made a move to pat her shoulder, but a glance at his blood-covered hands halted him. “It actually would have been a rather quick death,” he said. “The heat from the poker would have shocked Olavo’s system so quickly, he might not have even realized what had happened.”

  Jax surveyed the body once more. “Charles, with the wound going all the way through, are you able to tell if Olavo was attacked from the front or the back?”

  The physician frowned. “Well, now that we’ve identified the murder weapon, I may be able to make an educated guess. Um…Duchess, you may want to look away.”

  Jax chose to stand resolute as she watched Charles prod and poke the pierced flesh. Thank goodness she hadn’t eaten yet, or she might have lost the contents of her stomach, listening to the squishing sound of Charles’s fingers wriggling inside Olavo’s corpse, but she refused to look away.

  “Well,” Charles said after a time, “it looks like the interior of Olavo’s chest is more singed at his back rather than the front of his chest.”

  George stroked his chin
in thought. “Meaning the fire poker was hotter when it hit Olavo’s back.”

  “I would guess he was stabbed from behind.” Charles wiped his hands once more on the soiled apron. “The poker would have cooled minutely, but just enough to not invoke as much heat damage by the time it protruded from his chest.” Charles pointed to the dead man’s hands, the Tandorian signet ring on Olavo’s left pinky finger glinting in the torchlight. “There aren’t any defensive marks, either, so he didn’t fight back.”

  Stabbed from behind at two in the morning. Death would have been near instantaneous, so it was possible that Olavo hadn’t even had time to cry out.

  George’s hand cupped her elbow. “I think we need to address the household. I want to gauge everyone’s reactions before word spreads about Olavo’s demise.”

  “Corporal Highriver certainly hasn’t been keeping his mouth shut,” Jax grunted, thinking how Uma had already learned of the murder.

  Charles motioned to the body. “We’ll finish up here. Do you have any suggestions as to how we should handle the burial?”

  “We’ll cremate his remains for his sister,” Jax instructed. “Corporal Highriver can assemble his men to build a pyre near the pond. The ground out back should be damp enough to keep the flames from spreading.”

  Charles bowed his head. “I shall oversee the preparations myself.”

  Jax moved toward the cellar steps. “Good work, Charles. Thank you.”

  George followed behind her, failing to conceal grunts of pain as they ascended the stairs into the now-empty kitchen. “Mistress Ellamae must be serving breakfast.”

  “Good. Hopefully that means everyone is in one place.” Mindful to keep her determined stride slow and steady so George could keep up, Jax had little time to think about how she would present the news, as they arrived at the dining hall within moments.

  Besides an ashen and twitching Uma, the gathered guests seemed unaware of what had been happening on the floor below. Vita sat next to Uma, visibly concerned by the lady-in-waiting’s strange behavior. Julian and Martán chatted amongst themselves. Carriena idly swirled her spoon in her porridge, while Thanasis shoveled his breakfast into his mouth, praising Mistress Ellamae, who hovered in the corner.

  Noticing Jax’s arrival, Uma stood and hurried to her side. “There you are!” She threaded her arm through Jax’s and escorted her to the head chair. “I couldn’t find Sabine anywhere,” she murmured, her forehead wrinkled with worry.

  “She’s downstairs with Charles, finishing up the autopsy,” Jax whispered back before turning her attention to the rest of her friends. “You all look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” The sight of a normal breakfast gathering seemed odd after leaving the dark, dismal scene in the cellar.

  “What’s not to enjoy?” Carriena chortled, stabbing her fork into a glistening sausage link.

  Jax cast a questioning look at Uma. Had news of Olavo’s death not reached them?

  Uma leaned in and muttered to Jax under her breath. “I came downstairs in search of Vita and Sabine, like you asked. Only I found Vita in the parlor with Carriena and her father, and I figured you might want to be the one to break the news to your host.”

  “Smart thinking, dear one.” Jax summoned everyone’s attention by clearing her throat. “I’m afraid I have some unsettling news to report.”

  Thanasis placed his fork down, his brow sprouting lines. “What is it, Jacqueline?”

  Just as she was about to answer, the floorboards behind her creaked, announcing the arrival of someone through the serving doors.

  Carriena shifted in her seat. “Oh, Bernard, you’re ruining the suspense!”

  With a quick glance over her shoulder, Jax spied the twitching Lord Chamberlain standing in the shadows. While he still wore a wary expression, Bernard had changed his robes and shoes and combed his hair, his immaculate appearance once again on display. It seems he disappeared in a hurry simply to change. Jax pocketed her observation for later review and turned a somber amethyst gaze back to the table.

  “I’m afraid to inform you that Sir Olavo died during the night.” Mindful of her phrasing, Jax analyzed the group.

  Carriena’s eager expression fell into a disappointed frown. “Oh, I was expecting something a little more juicy.”

  Thanasis shushed his daughter. “Died how?”

  “He was murdered.” Jax’s hardened tone elicited a whimpering gasp from Bernard. Her gaze flickered around the room, assessing the reactions of those gathered. Everyone appeared to be truly shocked, but were their reactions genuine?

  Carriena straightened, the first to recover from the news. “Murdered?” Her voice shook with a tremor. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “When? Has the killer been caught? Where is Corporal Highriver?” Thanasis spewed a barrage of questions, his knuckles white against the table.

  George cleared his throat. “Corporal Highriver and his men have made a thorough search of the premises but have not located the culprit.”

  “So there’s a murderer on the loose?” Carriena’s wispy blond hair danced as she whipped her focus from George to Jax. “Have the authorities in the nearby village been alerted?”

  “Corporal Highriver’s sentries reported that no one has left the estate’s boundaries since your arrival yesterday, Lady Carriena,” George replied, his tone curt and gruff.

  Bernard whimpered once more, having found a spot on the wall to lean against. “Virtues, if no one’s left Galensmore…”

  A dark realization settled over the room. “Sir Olavo’s killer is still among us,” Jax confirmed, surveying the assembled group once more.

  Thanasis took a long swig of his goblet. “I want Highriver to do another sweep of the property. There are plenty of fox holes and dens someone could hide out in.” Rising from his chair, he prepared to depart from the still-stunned group, his morning robes sweeping behind him. “Galensmore is but a prison to those trapped inside its walls. We’ll ferret out the culprit, Duchess.”

  Worry cascaded down Carriena’s face as she watched her father leave. “With a madman on the loose, what do we do? Are we being moved to a safe house or something?”

  George spoke up, his voice brimming with authority. “For now, it’s best if everyone return to their rooms and lock their doors. Open them only for members of the Ducal Guard.”

  Jax longed to know what plan brewed inside George’s mind, but kept her lips pressed shut. She’d question him when they were alone.

  “Jax,” Vita trembled, her olive skin nearly translucent, “shouldn’t we leave? Are you safe here still?”

  Leaning across the table, Jax patted the woman’s quivering hand. “The Ducal Guard is on high alert. I am well protected.” And I don’t think I was the one in any real danger to begin with…

  As if her words had summoned them, Wynn and Ansel appeared in the doorway of the dining hall. “Captain Solomon, Corporal Highriver has just returned with a report. He’s in the study.”

  “Excellent.” George dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Ansel, escort Lady Carriena and Bernard to their chambers, please. We want them tucked away safely. Fetch Lord Brunovaris and do the same for him, as well. He went in search of Highriver.”

  Ansel bowed at his orders and waited for his puzzled charges to stand and filter out of the room.

  Martán’s chin quivered as he, Ellamae, and Julian swarmed around George and Jax. “Should we report to our rooms, too? What about our work?”

  George gave them a reassuring nod. “You may go about your day, but please confine your activities to the first floor, where the on-duty sentries can assist you, should you need help.”

  Exchanging worried glances with one another, the three Galensmore staff members began gathering the dirty dishes from the dining table and disappeared through the pantry doorway.

  Once they were gone, in a louder-than-necessary voice, George continued, “Wynn, please escort the Duchess and her ladies to her suite and stand guard.”

  Jax r
ubbed one of her ringing ears. “Wynn isn’t deaf, you know.”

  A wry grin stretched across the Captain’s face. “I know,” he said, speaking softly this time, “but I want to make sure everyone in the household believes you’ll be confined to your room, as well. Come on.” He ushered Jax, Uma, and Vita to follow him. “Let’s go see what Highriver has to report.”

  Pleased that George made no moves to exclude her from the investigation, Jax took Uma and Vita’s hands and pulled them along.

  “Where is Lady Sabine?” Vita glanced about as they strode down the first-floor hallway. “Shouldn’t she be made aware of what’s going on?”

  Jax snorted. “She’s aware. She helped Charles with Olavo’s autopsy.”

  Uma shivered. “Did they uncover anything worthwhile?”

  As the sounds of slamming doors and muttering voices faded away from upstairs, Jax surmised that they were safe from prying ears. “We suspect the time of death to be around two in the morning. As for what killed Olavo, we concluded that he was run through with the fire poker in his bedroom.”

  “A fire poker?” Vita squeaked. “Is that even possible?”

  Jax nodded. “Between the heat and the heavy iron, it wouldn’t have been too hard for anyone to push the poker through human flesh, especially if Olavo didn’t see it coming.”

  “He was attacked from behind?” Uma raised an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d feel sorry for the man, but what an awful death.”

  “Shouldn’t we send someone to fetch Charles and Sabine to secure them in their rooms?” Vita changed the subject, concern for their friends glowing in her golden eyes.

  Ahead of them, George expelled a dark chuckle. “No need. I only sent everyone else to their rooms to keep our suspects under observation.”

  “Suspects?” Uma and Vita both gasped. “You really think Lady Carriena could have something to do with this?” Uma shot a disapproving glare at Jax. “She’s your friend!”

  Her stomach twisting in knots, Jax sighed. “I know. It pains me to think so ill of her, but…with the way things are in the world, George is right. It would be unwise for me to blindly put my trust in both Thanasis and Carriena.” Clenching her fists, she met Uma’s gaze head on. “After all, I am responsible for ripping them away from their home, their legacy. Who knows what contempt may have been bred from that?”

 

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