Esrahaddon chuckled softly. “Very well, I will give you some assistance. Tell me how did your father die exactly?”
“He was stabbed with a knife,” Alric explained.
“What kind of knife?”
“A common rondel military dagger.” Alric held his hands about a foot apart. “About this long. It had a flat blade and a round pommel. It was really nothing special.”
Esrahaddon nodded. “Where was he stabbed?”
“In his private chapel.”
“I meant where physically?”
“Oh, in the back, upper left side, I think.”
“Were there any windows or other doors in the chapel?”
“None.”
“Who found the body?”
“These two.” Alric pointed at Royce and Hadrian.
The wizard smiled and shook his head. “No, beside them, who announced the death of the king? Who raised the alarm?”
“That would be Captain Wylin, my master-at-arms. He was on the scene very quickly and apprehended them.”
Hadrian thought about the night King Amrath had been killed. “No, that’s not right. There was a dwarf there. He must have come around the corner of the hallway just as we left the room. He probably saw the king’s body lying on the floor of the chapel and shouted. Right after he yelled, the soldiers came, and surprisingly fast, I might add.”
“Did you actually see this dwarf approach from the corridor?” the wizard asked.
“No,” Hadrian replied, and Royce confirmed with a shake of his head.
“And when you entered the chapel, was the king’s body visible from the doorway?”
Hadrian and Royce shook their heads.
“That solves it then,” the wizard said, as if everything was perfectly clear. The party stared back at him in confusion. Esrahaddon sighed. “The dwarf killed Amrath.”
“That’s not possible,” Alric challenged. “My father was a big man, and the dagger thrust was downward. A dwarf couldn’t possibly have stabbed him in the upper back.”
“You said your father was in his chapel. As any good pious king, he was no doubt kneeling with head bowed. The dwarf killed him as he prayed. I suspect the dwarf was someone your father knew. Someone he would not be alarmed to see in the chapel.”
“But the door was locked when we entered,” Hadrian said. “And there was no one in the room besides the king.”
“No one you could see at least. The dwarf must have been hiding inside the room when you entered. Did the chapel have an altar with a cabinet?”
“Yes, it did.”
“They did a millennium ago as well. Religion changes very slowly. The cabinet was no doubt too small for a man to crouch in, but I’m sure it could easily accommodate a dwarf. After he killed the king, he locked the door and waited for you two to find the body.” Esrahaddon paused. “That cannot be right you—two—to?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “If you have done this to language, I fear to know the fate of all else.
“With the door locked, a night guard or a cleaning steward would not find the body prematurely. Only a skilled thief would be able to enter, which I assume at least one of you is.” He looked directly at Royce as he said the last part. “After you left, the dwarf crept out, opened the door, and sounded the alarm, trapping you before you could get away.”
“So, the dwarf is the agent of the Church?”
“No.” The wizard sighed with a look of frustration. “Unless things have changed drastically since I was last about, there is not a dwarf alive who would carry a common dagger. The traits of dwarves change even slower than religion. He was given the dagger by the one who hired him. Find that person and you will find the true killer.”
Stunned, everyone looked at the wizard.” That’s incredible,” Alric said.
“Actually, it is not difficult to determine. After so many years you learn a great many things.” The wizard inclined his head toward the cliff. “Getting out of there was hard. Speaking as you do is hard. Determining the murderer of King Amrath was…was…soft.”
“Soft?” Hadrian asked. “You mean easy.”
“How is easy the opposite of hard? This does not make sense.”
Hadrian shrugged. “And yet, it is.”
Esrahaddon looked frustrated. “See what I mean? Now, you have what you came here for, or at least as much assistance as I can lend in this matter. Therefore, I will be on my way. As I said, I have to attend to my own affairs. I assume my help was sufficient to prevent any loose tongues?”
“You have my hand on it,” Alric said reaching out.
The wizard looked down at Alric’s open palm and smiled. “Your word is enough.” He turned away and without so much as a parting gesture began walking down the slope.
“You’re going to walk? You know it’s a long way to anywhere from here,” Hadrian yelled after him.
“I am looking forward to the trip,” the wizard replied without glancing back. Following the ancient road, he rounded the corner and slipped out of sight.
The remaining party members mounted their horses. Myron seemed more comfortable with the animals now and climbed confidently into his seat behind Hadrian. He even neglected to hold on until they began down the ravine back in the direction from which they had come. Hadrian expected they would pass Esrahaddon on the way down, but they reached the bottom of the ravine without seeing him.
“Not your run-of-the-mill fellow, is he?” Hadrian asked. He was continuing to look around for any signs of the wizard.
“The way he was able to get out of that place, makes me wonder exactly what we did here today by letting him out,” Royce said.
“No wonder the Emperor was so successful.” Alric frowned and knotted the ends of his reins. “Although I can tell it didn’t come without aggravation. You know, I don’t extend my hand often, but when I do I expect it to be accepted. I found his reaction quite insulting.”
“I’m not sure he was being rude by not shaking your hand. I think it is just because he couldn’t,” Myron told them. “Shake your hand that is.”
“Why not?”
“In The Letters of Dioylion, they told a bit about Esrahaddon’s incarceration. The Church had both of his hands cut off in order to limit his ability to cast spells.”
“Oh,” Alric said.
“Why do I get the impression this Dioylion fellow didn’t die a natural death?” Hadrian asked.
“He’s probably one of those faces in the hallway.” Royce spurred his horse down the slope.
Chapter 6: Revelations by Moonlight
“I heard you were looking for me, Uncle?” Princess Arista swept into his office. She was followed by her bodyguard Hilfred, who dutifully waited by the door. Still dressing in clothing mourning her father’s death, she wore an elegant black gown with a silver bodice. Standing straight and tall with her head held high, she maintained her regal air.
The Archduke Percy Braga rose as she entered. “Yes, I have some questions for you.” He resumed his seat behind the desk. Her uncle was dressed in black as well. His doublet, cape, and cap were dark velvet, causing his gold chain of office to stand out more than usual. His eyes looked weary from lack of sleep, and a thickening growth of stubble shadowed his face.
“Do you now?” she said glaring at him. “Since when does the Lord Chancellor summon the acting queen to answer his questions?”
Percy raised his eyes to meet hers. “There is no proof your brother is dead, Arista. You are not queen yet.”