He turned in time to see the man who had attacked him-Alkiabys-scurry across the porch and into the building by the eastern front porch door. He took a step in that direction, then stopped. He couldn’t afford the time to chase Alkiabys.
“None of you are to leave the porch or the building!” He turned and hurried back inside and down the corridor to Phaeryn’s study. Several scholars and students backed away from him as he did. Absently, he realized that neither Lankyt nor Syndar were among them.
He stopped in the study doorway, but the only figure inside was the sprawled and motionless form of the Master Scholar. In a few moments, Nalakyn appeared with a sledge, followed by a young scholar bearing an ax, then by Gauswn.
Quaeryt stepped back. “Nalakyn, Undercaptain, inspect the body. I’d like you to see what happened before anyone else disturbs matters.” A few moments wouldn’t matter so far as Zarxes happened to be concerned. He was either running-and while the cavalry patrol might catch him, Quaeryt wouldn’t-or hidden in the lower levels, in which case he wasn’t going anywhere soon.
Gauswn knelt first, away from the blood pooled on the polished but worn wooden floor. “A single cut across the throat. It’s deep.”
Nalakyn bent over and then straightened. He was pale when he rose, and he swallowed several times. “Why … why would Zarxes do that?” He frowned. “Where did he go? None of us saw him.”
“I was hoping you could shed some light on why the princeps did that. Think it over. Now … there’s a hidden staircase behind those shelves. That’s how he left. If anyone knows how to open it … fine. If not, we need to break through it.” He looked to Nalakyn.
“I didn’t know there was anything there, sir.”
“Which side was swung out, sir?” asked Gauswn, rising to his feet.
Quaeryt concentrated, trying to remember. “The left.”
“Then there might be a catch somewhere between the planks that form the edges of the cases there.” Gauswn took the ax from the student scholar, hefted it, then stepped toward the seemingly unbroken wall of shelves.
Three deftly aimed strokes of the ax-so precise that Quaeryt had to wonder where the undercaptain had learned to handle it-and one slightly splintered polished support later, the section of shelves leaned forward, but only about a third of a yard, if that.
Gauswn stepped away. “The back is lined with iron, and there’s an iron rod affixed to a plate. A long cold chisel would be better. I’ll just break the ax, otherwise.”
So Quaeryt found himself waiting for another fraction of a quint before another student hurried back with the cold chisel.
Finally, Gauswn snapped the junction between rod and plate and the shelves swung open. “I should go first, sir.”
“No. You follow me.” Quaeryt stepped around the undercaptain, contracted his shields so that they were close to his body and strengthened them, and then eased down the circular wooden staircase, sturdy enough that it did not even creak once.
At the bottom of the staircase he faced an open space and two doors. Both were closed, but in the dim light that filtered down, he could see bootprints on the dusty stone floor leading to the door on the right. He stepped forward and opened the door-only to find shelves stacked with bottles that looked to hold wine.
He studied the wine closet again, until he saw where the dust had been disturbed. He tried to lift the bottle, but it did not move. He tried to pull it toward him. There was a slight give, but nothing more. He pushed the neck of the bottle, and the entire back of the closet swung away, revealing a long tunnel curving toward the west and angling downhill, a tunnel not quite tall enough for Quaeryt to stand erect.
Quaeryt stepped back into the lower level of the building. “Undercaptain, you might have some men follow the tunnel and see where it leads. But have them be careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt opened the second door. The shelves there held dusty squat jars. He touched several, but they all also adhered to the wooden shelves on which they rested. He pulled and pushed on almost a score before the back of the closet swung away.
This time, Quaeryt swallowed. Beyond the false closet was a squarish chamber, in which blades were racked on one part of the wall, crossbows on another, seven pikes on another … and various other weapons and accouterments, some of which Quaeryt had never seen.
“Mother of the Namer…” Gauswn looked to Quaeryt.
“I think we know a little better why not too many people in Tilbora are exactly fond of the dear scholars.” Quaeryt shook his head. “This will keep. Go see about getting men to follow the tunnel and see if the patrols had any fortune in finding the good scholar Zarxes. Or the young one who tried to attack me.”
“Yes, sir.”
The dust suggested that neither the armory nor the tunnel had been used at least in a few weeks, but Quaeryt didn’t see any reason to point that out. The expressions on Nalakyn’s face suggested that the preceptor of students hadn’t known, either, although Quaeryt would have wagered that Alkiabys knew … and that raised the question of where Chardyn’s assistant had gone. Quaeryt doubted Alkiabys was anywhere near the Ecoliae, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if there happened to be another tunnel, and even another armory. In fact, the way matters were going, he would have been shocked if there weren’t.
When Quaeryt followed Gauswn up the narrow spiral staircase and emerged back in the Master Scholar’s study, he looked at Nalakyn, who had remained, as if frozen. “Nalakyn, I imagine you’re the most senior scholar here. I want every scholar to come to the door of the study and see this, but no one is to touch the body. Then I want them all to assemble in the dining hall. The students will have to remain in the building for now, but they don’t have to see the body or attend the assembly. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“After the meeting, we’ll discuss arrangements for the pyre. There will be no services and no memorial.”
“Sir?”
“I don’t think the scholars can afford a memorial to a traitor to Lord Bhayar, and I certainly don’t intend to allow it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you may go.” Quaeryt did not take a deep breath until he was momentarily alone. Then he headed for the front porch to see if the company’s troopers had been able to find Zarxes. He paused for a moment as he noticed the figure of the ancient chorister walking away from Gauswn, again mounted, but he had to wait only a few moments before the undercaptain rode over.
“Any fortune in finding the princeps?”
Gauswn’s reply was simple. “No … sir.”
“I didn’t think they would. What about the other one?”
“They’re still looking…” Gauswn looked down from his mount at Quaeryt. “What would you have us do now?”
“I’m going to meet with the scholars. After that, I’m going to write a quick report to the governor so that one of your men can ride back and inform him. Then we both wait for orders. In the meantime, no scholar goes anywhere.”
“Yes, sir.”
Quaeryt walked around the entire porch, but it was empty. After a time, he made his way to the dining hall. As he stepped inside, the murmurs died to absolute silence.
“Please be seated.” He waited until everyone was in a chair before he continued. “The reason you are assembled here is very simple. Both your reputations and possibly your lives are in danger. Some scholars have been involved in acts against both High Holders and the former governor of Tilbor. In addition, when I brought this matter up before the Master Scholar and the princeps less than a glass ago, your beloved princeps attacked me with the half-staff of the Sansang and then slashed the throat of Master Scholar Phaeryn. He escaped through the secret tunnel from the study of the Master Scholar. I requested Scholar Nalakyn to have you all view the study so that there would be no mistake about what occurred.
