I didn't like the way he was looking at Molly. 'Now wait just a minute…' I said.
'You threatened to kill the Matriarch,' the Sarjeant said to Molly. 'To her face, in front of the Advisory Council.'
'I was angry!' said Molly. 'But I'm not stupid enough to kill her here, surrounded by her family. And I'm certainly not stupid enough to stick around afterwards. Besides, I wouldn't just stab someone! I'm the wild witch of the woods! I'd use some really subtle magic, make it look like natural causes. Or, if I wanted you to know it was me, I'd do something really vile and horrible, and then disappear while you were all still throwing up. I don't do stabbings.'
'What better way to disguise your involvement, than a crude attack with an anonymous blade?' said the Sarjeant.
'Stop this,' I said. 'Stop it right now. Molly had nothing to do with this. She's been with me ever since we left the Sanctity. It couldn't be her.'
'Well, you would say that, wouldn't you?' said the Sarjeant. 'But even if it were true, you had to sleep sometime. She could have left your side, done the deed and returned while you were still sleeping. Couldn't she?'
'No,' I said. 'No.' I looked at the Armourer. He was still holding the Matriarch's dead hand, his head bowed over it. 'Uncle Jack? You don't believe it was Molly, do you?'
'Hush, Eddie,' he said, not looking round. 'My mother is dead.'
A thought struck me, and I looked back at the Sarjeant. 'Does Alistair know? Has anyone told him?'
'The Matriarch's consort doesn't know anything anymore,' said Howard. 'It's a miracle he's still alive. After what you did to him.'
'He threatened to kill Molly, and me,' I said.
'He's still in a coma,' said Howard. 'Hooked up to a whole bunch of life support, down in the hospital ward. He hasn't said anything in months. Why disturb him now?'
I leaned forward over the bed, and studied the Matriarch's face. Dead bodies were nothing new to me, but it's always different when it's someone you know. There was nothing in her face-no shock, no outrage, no fear or pain. It was just… empty. She seemed smaller, as though the most important part of her was gone, and this was just something she had left behind. I took her free hand in mine, and then dropped it again because just like that she was standing beside the bed, staring at me. A tall regal figure in her best tweeds and pearls, looking very much alive. I looked back at the bed, but the body was still there. I looked at the others, and it was clear they could see the vision of my grandmother as well. It couldn't be her ghost; Martha had always been very firm that ghosts had no place in the Hall. The family always looks forward, never back. So this must be a vision; a recording made earlier, and activated by the touch of my hand. I felt obscurely affected, that she had chosen me as the trigger for her message. The Matriarch started speaking, and I gave her my full attention. Her? face was calm and unmoved, as though this message from beyond was just another necessary task.
'If you're seeing this, then I'm dead,' she said flatly. 'I suppose it could have happened in any number of ways, but I'm betting on violence. Droods live well, but we don't live long. Comes with the job. It doesn't really matter how; what matters is the family. Do not let my death divide or weaken the family. The Council must take over the running of things, until a new leader can be decided on. Work together; this is my last instruction to all of you. Edwin, we never agreed on anything much, except that the good of the family must always come first. Anything, for the family. Anything, for England. Anything, for Humanity. Remember that, and you won't go far wrong. I was always proud of you, Edwin, hard though you may find that to believe. Even when you outraged and defied me. Perhaps especially then. It's good to know the family can still produce lions as well as drones.
'Jack… Good-bye, my dear. My only living child. I wish… we'd found the time to talk more. But you were always so busy in your Armoury, and I had the family to run, and the world… just kept getting in the way. You always think there'll be more time, to say the things you want to say. Until suddenly there isn't.
'Sarjeant-at-Arms, do your duty. Protect the family. And if I have died at some assassin's hand, let nothing stand between you and getting to the truth. I think that's it. I can't think of anything more to say. I have no regrets. No apologies. Everything I did, I did for the family. Nothing else matters.'
She stood there for a moment, seeming to see us all clearly with her fierce cold gaze, and then she was gone. I looked back at the body on the bed. It was hard to think of them as the same person.
'So,' said the Sarjeant. 'An unliving will. How very… practical. A pity she didn't name a successor. We can't take time out for elections; it would leave the family vulnerable.'
'Who would have been the next Matriarch?' said Molly.
'Irrelevant,' said the Armourer. He held his mother's dead hand in both of his, squeezed it briefly, and then let it go. He stood up and looked severely at the rest of us. 'The old ways are gone. No one can inherit leadership; we have seen where that leads. We are a democracy now, for the good of our souls.'
'The family chose to put Martha in charge again,' said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.
'As leader,' the Armourer said firmly. 'The title Matriarch was purely honorary. The family just felt… more secure, that way. No, the Advisory Council will run things, for now.'
'The line of inheritance is broken anyway,' said Howard. He was still by the doorway, still unable to bring himself any farther into the room. 'The Matriarch's only daughter, Emily, is…'
'Dead,' I said. 'My mother is dead.'
The Armourer came forward, and we looked into each other's faces. Then he opened his arms, and we hugged each other. Two sons who had lost their mothers. We let go, and the Armourer stepped back and nodded to me brusquely.
'I'll make all the arrangements. I know what she would have wanted.'
'Any funeral will have to wait,' said the Sarjeant. 'The body must be examined, and the room, and the whole Hall must be searched, thoroughly.' He looked at Molly again. 'But the witch… must be excluded from all our discussions. She is not family. Edwin must also be excluded, because of his relationship to the witch. Both of them must be securely confined, until their guilt or innocence can be established.'
'Not going to happen, Cedric,' I said.
'You heard your grandmother's last orders,' the Sarjeant said, unmoved by the clear threat in my voice. 'Let nothing stand between me and the truth. Certainly not an ungrateful grandson and a notorious witch.'
The Armourer made a sudden shocked sound, and we all looked round sharply. He was leant right over his mother's body, pointing at her bare neck.
'Her torc is gone! How did we miss that? How is it even possible? Every torc is bound to its wearer on the genetic level!'
We all crowded round the bed. There was no torc. Martha's neck looked almost obscenely naked without it.
'Is that what this was all about?' said Molly. 'Was she killed so someone could take her torc?'
'No,' the Sarjeant said immediately. 'Far easier to kill a field agent, outside the protections of the Hall, and take their torc. But… there is a very old and awful weapon, right here in the Hall, that could have been used. Armourer, where is Torc Cutter?'
'Still safely locked away in the Armageddon Codex, along with all the other forbidden weapons,' said the Armourer. 'And no, the Codex hasn't been opened. I'd know. Whatever did this, it wasn't Torc Cutter.'
'Could anyone have got the torc outside the Hall without setting off all the alarms?' said Molly.
'No,' said the Sarjeant. 'Which means it must still be here. Somewhere in the Hall.'
A sudden thought struck me, and I contacted Ethel again. 'Did you see what happened here?'
You know I don't watch individuals anymore, she said reproachfully. Not after we had that little talk about personal privacy. Still not sure I entirely grasp the concept, but whatever keeps you happy…
'Can you locate the Matriarch's missing torc?' I said.
Hmmm… That's odd. No, I can't. I should be able to, I should be able to isolate and identify every individual torc; but not this one. How very intriguing. Either someone of great power is blocking my probes, which I would have said was impossible, or… Actually, I don't have an or. The Sarjeant is quite correct, however, it must still be in the Hall somewhere.
'You've been listening!'
Of course I've been listening! This is an emergency, and I am part of the Hall's protections, after all.
I passed Ethel's comments on to the others, and they all considered them, in their various ways. The Sarjeant
