A ring of fire.
Horror iced her heart.
The symbolism of the body’s position and ring was plain. A similar insignia was worn on many a knight’s arm following the ascension of Argent ser Fields. It was the new warden’s badge.
The Fiery Cross.
Kathryn hurried with Lorr back into the inhabited sections of Tashijan. Both were glad to escape such a foul place. Barrin still led the way; Hern followed.
“I won’t keep my tongue,” Lorr continued his tirade, stalking down the halls. “I’ve hunted with Ser Fields since his earliest campaign. I will not listen to your suspicions.”
Kathryn kept pace with the man. “That dark work back there was done by someone in the Fiery Cross. You know I’m right. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe Argent… Warden Fields was not involved.” She had to force out those last words. She had no doubt of Argent’s complicity. “But someone in the Fiery Cross… his group… led that rite. And it wasn’t the first.”
Lorr sighed heavily. He had seen the charnel pit. His eyes, hard and flinty, still shone with the horror of it all. “Mayhap you’re right. But should the warden not be given word?”
Kathryn gripped the diadem pendant at her neck. The diamond, though made of paste, still signified her position. “I am the castellan of Tashijan, second only to the warden. As some part of the Fiery Cross was involved in this most foul murder, it is right for the warden to step aside in the investigation. He’s compromised for his involvement with the Cross. So I must step forward.”
“And what do you plan on doing?”
“First, swear you to secrecy.”
Lorr glanced harshly at her.
She faced him down. “We must not alert the Fiery Cross to our knowledge or all involved will vanish into the shadows, unpunished and unknown. That must not happen, not until we are ready to snare them all.”
Lorr marched ahead, shoulders hunched. Finally he grunted a grudging assent. “I will keep silent for the moment.”
Kathryn hid her relief. If Argent knew what they had discovered, he would not let them live until the next dawn. She had to avoid the warden until she could determine some plan… which meant consulting with her friend Gerrod before he left.
“I must speak to Master Rothkild,” Kathryn said. “We’ll forgo delivering the letter for the moment.”
Lorr nodded.
Reaching the central main staircase, Lorr started down the wide steps, led by Barrin. The large bullhound’s hackles still bristled. A few knights and masters gave the beast a wide berth, pressing against the wall.
They wound down deep under the Citadel, leaving the last rays of the sun behind and entering the subterranean domain of the Masters of Disciplines. She prayed Gerrod was still in his chambers.
The answer stepped around the next bend in the stair.
Master Hesharian gasped aloud as he came face-to-jowl with the slavering Barrin. The man’s large bulk stumbled back a pace, tripping on a step. Before he fell, his arm was caught in the bronze fingers of his companion, Gerrod Rothkild.
“Skaggin’ monsters,” Hesharian huffed, steadying himself. He shook free of Gerrod’s grip. “What are you doing down here?” His piggish eyes took in Lorr, the bullhounds, and Kathryn.
Lorr opened his mouth to speak, but Kathryn stepped forward. “How fortunate a meeting. I had hoped to discuss a matter with Master Rothkild.”
Hesharian glanced to Gerrod, then back to Kathryn. “We’ve been summoned to the field room by Warden Fields. It seems our godslayer has made landfall.”
Gerrod’s features remained unreadable behind his bronze helmet.
Kathryn kept her own face calm. “Where?” she asked.
“Where else… somewhere off in Foulsham Dell.” He spoke the name with clear distaste. “Warden Fields has doubled the night’s shift and calls all leaders to the meeting. I’m surprised you did not receive a summons.”
“I’ve been away from my rooms for the past two bells. Perhaps the message awaits me there.”
“I’m sure that is so.”
Gerrod stirred. “If that’s the case, then certainly Castellan Vail should proceed directly to the field room with us.”
Hesharian glared at the two bullhounds, clearly not wanting their company. But he could not discount Gerrod’s offer.
They all continued as a group back up the stairs. No one spoke. The bullhounds grumbled, but a cuff from Lorr silenced them.
Kathryn slowed her step, allowing Master Hesharian and Lorr to drift ahead, vanishing for stretches behind the curve of the stair. Hern was their only companion, padding after them, eyes wide.
“Why have you been summoned?” Kathryn asked. It was strange that Gerrod was called to this meeting. He was not even a member of the Council of Masters, though it was rumored he was next in line for one of the seats.
“It seems,” Gerrod whispered, “that word of my departure at dawn has reached the ears of the warden. He has some duty to request of me when I travel to Chrismferry.”
Kathryn felt a chill skate across her skin. How had Argent learned so quickly of Gerrod’s plan to leave by flippercraft? And why this sudden summons?
Gerrod motioned back down the stairs. “Why were you coming down here?”
Kathryn did not like discussing this on the open stair, but she feared she might not have another chance. “Lorr and I discovered something of hideous import.” She described the body, its mutilation, the charnel pit.
“Strange,” Gerrod mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“The body was left there, sprawled, mutilated, and abandoned. Does that not strike you as odd? Though the rite was clearly performed in a lonely, abandoned corner of Tashijan, why not hide their crime better? At least dump the body into the pit. Why leave it to be so conspicuously placed?”
“You think it was left on purpose?”
Gerrod nodded ahead. “You said that Lorr led you to the body, he and his hounds. Maybe someone wanted it to be found.”
Kathryn shook her head. “But why? Lorr is the warden’s man. Why would Argent want to implicate the Fiery Cross in some bloody rite?” She remembered the genuine horror on the wyldman’s face.
Gerrod stared questioningly at her.
“No,” she said firmly. “Lorr had no foreknowledge about what we would find.”
“Then perhaps he was set up also. A fresh blood lure tracked in the corridors. Meant to lead him and his hounds to the site.”
“But why? To what end?”
“Maybe there is another party seeking to discredit or expose the Fiery Cross. They couldn’t operate in the open, so they led someone they could trust to the spot, either hoping you’d take on the burden or to at least warn you.”
“But who? Why the need for secrecy?”
“If we’re right about Argent’s involvement with the death of Ser Henri and perhaps Castellan Mirra, then whoever is left of their trusted circle may be trying to help you now, fearful to approach directly, but knowing you must not fall under Argent’s sway. The new warden can be convincing.”
Kathryn remembered her morning meeting with Argent ser Fields a few days back. He had an answer to every one of her concerns, calming suspicion with a ready explanation. He had argued that the Fiery Cross was nothing more than an organization of knights and masters interested in returning Tashijan to full glory during this time of world strife. It had seemed plausible.
No longer.
“What about this tracker?” Gerrod said. “Will he speak? If Warden Fields finds-”
“He’s promised to keep silent for the moment.”
“Do you trust him?”
