And there had been the even more terrible realization that Elissa-who had vanished the same terrible evening that Fynn had died-had been the White Stone. He had wanted to deny that; he’d wanted to tear that knowledge from his head and remember only the Elissa he’d loved.
He glanced again at the body on the bed, the bloodied sheet covering Rance. “Where’s Rhianna?” he asked suddenly. “Has anyone seen the girl? Bring her here. Now.” Cu’Bloch gestured, and one of the garda in the room rushed back out. Jan heard Rhianna’s name being called in the corridor.
In truth, he expected the answer to come that she could not be found, that she had vanished from the palais. That would explain everything. And the assassination… Could it have been Allesandra who had again hired the assassin? Rance had always advised flatly against any reconciliation with Nessantico; Sergei would certainly have mentioned that to Allesandra. Could Allesandra have wanted Rance dead as a result? Or could the White Stone’s client have been Sergei himself, ridding himself of an obstacle? Rhianna had been there when Sergei had met with them; she could have overheard, or perhaps Sergei could have given her some signal that told her to murder Rance…
The possibilities spun in his head like kitten-tangled yarn, the threads of his thoughts so interwoven that he couldn’t find the ends of them. Cu’Bloch was talking to Paulus, but Jan heard nothing of it. When he heard footsteps in the outer room, he turned. The garda had returned, with Rhianna and another garda, a face Jan vaguely recognized-was he named Enid? Emero? Emerin? Rhianna was gazing around her as if confused, glancing back at the broken door, then seeing Jan, the Commandant, and Paulus.
“My Hirzg,” Rhianna said, curtsying deeply to him. “I was told.. . You wanted…” She was looking past him now, to the bed and its covered form. Her hand went to her mouth as her eyes grew wide and frightened, and the garda with her put his arm protectively around her. The gesture made Jan scowl. She has a lover here, then? “Oh, no! By Cenzi, is that…?”
“Yes,” Jan told her. “Rance has been killed. The murderer would have us think that the White Stone did it.”
Rhianna seemed to stagger, her legs unsteady, and the garda held her more tightly. “The White Stone…” Jan watched her; her stunned reaction seemed genuine. He saw her lower lip trembling as if she were about to cry. Then she seemed to shake herself, and her gaze went quizzical. “Why does the Hirzg wish to talk to me?” she asked.
“Where were you last night?” Jan asked her.
“Why, I was with Emerin,” she said. A flush crept up her neck from under the collar of her robe. “He and I…” She stopped. “My Hirzg, you can’t possibly think… I was with Emerin all night, and Vajiki ci’Lawli and I were on excellent terms.”
“Hirzg, may I speak?” Emerin asked. He had straightened, tugging at his nightclothes as if it were his uniform. Jan glared at him. He nodded. “It’s true she was with me,” he said hurriedly.
“You never slept, then?” Jan asked. “You watched her all night?”
Emerin’s blush matched Rhianna’s. “Yes, I slept, my Hirzg. But I sleep very lightly. Everyone knows that-ask Rhianna. Or better, ask my fellow gardai at the barracks. The slightest noise wakes me, and I never woke last night. Rhianna went to sleep before I did, and she was still asleep this morning when you summoned us here.”
“Indeed,” Jan said. “Then neither of you know anything of this?”
They both shook their heads simultaneously.
“You don’t know anyone who would have wanted Rance dead?”
Again, he received the same response. Jan pursed his lips, staring at Rhianna. So like her… She would not look at him; she kept her face down, gazing at the floor. Her hands were coupled together as if she were praying, and Emerin’s arm never left her shoulder. “All right, then,” he said. “We will be questioning all the palais staff. Someone must know something. If anything occurs to either of you, no matter how minor, you will immediately tell Commandant cu’Bloch. Is that understood? Paulus, you also.”
Rhianna curtsied again; Emerin gave a salute; Paulus rose slowly from his chair. “You may all go,” he told them. Rhianna and Emerin hurried away; Paulus followed more slowly. Jan glanced back at cu’Bloch.
“Do you know something I don’t, my Hirzg?” the Commandant asked.
“No,” Jan answered. “It’s just that Rhianna… She’s new to the staff, and frankly, Brie doesn’t like her for some reason.” He saw cu’Bloch’s chin lift slightly at that, and his eyes seemed to nearly smile. Jan ignored that. “You know this garda she’s involved with?” Jan asked the man.
“Emerin? Yes. He’s someone I’ve been watching for promotion-a good young man who seems trustworthy. And he’s right, my Hirzg; he has a reputation as an extremely light sleeper. I believe him. Besides, if the girl was somehow the assassin-and she seems rather young to have that kind of skill-I doubt she would have stayed.”
Elissa didn’t stay. She fled… Jan grunted assent. He looked again at poor Rance’s covered body. “I leave this to you then, Commandant. Interrogate the staff; see if anyone has seen or heard anything that could lead us to the White Stone or the person who hired her-and if that path seems to lead back to Nessantico, tell me immediately. No one here in the palais can rest easily now. We will proceed with our plans to leave for Stag Fall tomorrow; I’ll have Paulus take over Rance’s position for the time being.”
The Commandant saluted as Jan left the bedchamber with a last glance at the bloodstained bed. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Rhianna’s uncanny resemblance to Elissa was more in his head than reality; after all, it had been a decade and a half since he’d last seen Elissa. Would he even recognize her if her saw her now? Did he truly remember what she’d looked like or was he romanticizing the memory he had of her? Perhaps he was only seeing what he wished to see.
Down the corridor, Emerin was talking to Rhianna. She glanced at Jan as he exited Rance’s chambers, looking quickly away when she noticed his attention. It was difficult to tell in the dimness of the servants’ corridor, but the look on her face as she turned… it wasn’t the fearful respect he usually saw in his staff’s faces; it was something else, something more wistful and possessive, and he wondered at that as he made his way back to his own apartments, trying to decide how he was going to tell Brie and the children what had happened.
Brie ca’Ostheim
She found Rance’s murder difficult to process, and even more terrifying when she considered the import: an assassin loose in the palais, a skilled and relentless killer able to find her way into a closed and locked room and kill Jan’s trusted aide and councillor in his sleep.
If the White Stone could do that, then none of them were truly safe. After Jan had told her, Brie had gone immediately to the playroom to make certain the children were unharmed. They’d seen the concern on her face, the tears in her eyes, and she’d explained to them that Rance was dead and that they’d be leaving the palais tomorrow for Stag Fall. She wasn’t certain they really understood.
She hugged Elissa, Kriege, and Caelor fiercely, then gestured to the wet nurse to bring Eria to her. “Matarh, it’s all right,” Kriege told her. “I’ll protect you. Why, if I had Vatarh’s dagger… I’ve learned so much already from the arms captain. More than Elissa.”
“Have not,” Elissa retorted. “Why, I know ever so much more, Matarh. The captain says I’m a natural, and he doesn’t say that to Kriege.” She stuck her tongue out in Kriege’s direction.
Brie knew then that they really didn’t understand, that they wouldn’t until Rance’s absence became apparent to them. Brie smiled wanly at them, feeling the dried tears pull at the skin of her face. “Commandant cu’Bloch has put his gardai all around the palais,” she told him. “I think we’re safe enough for now.”
She wasn’t certain she believed that. She knew she would be less certain tonight: in the darkness. She didn’t want to sleep alone. Not tonight. She would ask Jan if he would spend the night with her, and the children also…