“Ye’d better see to the horse first,” suggested Talbot, who’d arrived just as the mob dispersed.
Kerim nodded and propelled himself forward. As he passed the entrance, the stallion snorted at him but never took its attention off of Sham, the Stablemaster, and Talbot. When Kerim gave a sharp, short whistle from the shadows of the barn, Scorch reluctantly followed him.
“Come,” said Kerim after a moment.
Inside the barn it was dim and cool. By the time Sham’s eyes had adjusted from the brightness of the late afternoon sun, Kerim was backing his chair out of a stall opposite the one he’d put his horse into. Mutely he gestured Talbot into it. The shadows hid whatever reaction Talbot had, and after a moment he came out and shut the stall behind him.
“Did you notice anything strange?” asked Kerim.
The former seaman nodded grimly. “Not enough blood. ’Tis gory enough, I grant ye, but if he were kilt here there’d be quite a bit more. Someone brought the body here after he was dead.”
“Elsic,” Kerim called softly.
The stallion’s stall opened and closed behind the thin, pale boy. There were smears of blood on his hands and on his clothes where he’d wiped them off.
“Stablemaster,” said Kerim softly, his eyes still on Elsic. “Send a rider to the Temple and inform the priest there is another body to retrieve. I also need someone to find Lirn—the Captain of the Guards—and let him know I need a pair of guardsmen here to keep people out until the priests come.”
“Yes, sir,” the man left, patting Elsic’s shoulder as he passed.
Kerim waited until he was sure the Stablemaster was gone before approaching Elsic.
“It was Jab, wasn’t it?” Elsic asked quietly.
“Yes,” replied Kerim. “Do you know who brought him here?”
Elsic shook his head, leaning against the stall door as if it was the only thing holding him up. The stallion put its head over the door and began to lip Elsic’s hair.
“It came in very quietly,” said Elsic, rubbing the animal’s prominent cheekbone with one hand.
“It?” asked Talbot intently.
“It scared Scorch too,” added Elsic.
Kerim nodded, understanding what Elsic meant by the remark. “Scorch wouldn’t have been afraid if it had been human.”
“It needed another shape,” commented Sham.
“What?” asked Talbot, looking at her in surprise as if he’d just noticed her presence. She smiled grimly, removing the concealment spell. “The golem needed another shape. It couldn’t use Lord Ven’s again, so it found someone else.”
Kerim shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. It must suspect we know it has a golem. Why display the stableman’s body so prominently? In less than an hour everyone in the castle will know Jab is dead. He’s been here longer than I have, everyone knows him.”
“He’s anonymous enough for all of that,” commented Talbot. “He looks not a whit different from any number of lads running about Landsend. If the demon didn’t want to stay in the Castle, Jab would give him anonymity.”
Sham had continued to puzzle it out. “I bet it’s killed someone else by now—then it made certain Jab would be found. Found moreover, somewhere that would cast suspicion on an obvious suspect for the mysterious deaths. Talbot, look at Elsic and tell the Reeve what any Southwoodsman sees.”
Talbot nodded his understanding, and to Sham’s surprise began, softly, to sing.
“... Frail she stood, and fair of face,
Her eyes as black as the fathomless sea,
And long pale hair as all her race,
She sang her song to me, to me ...”
Talbot hesitated, looking embarrassed although his tenor was in key and rich in tone. “It’s an old chantey. I thought of it the first time I saw him. I’ve never seen a selkie before, not even a white seal like they’re said to turn into, but Elsic looks too much like the stories for any sea-bred Southwoodsman to think he was anything else. I imagine that’s why ye’ve had such a hard time settling him in here.”
“Selkies,” explained Shamera, to Kerim, “have a reputation of being ruthless and bloodthirsty.” She noticed that Elsic was looking even more distressed so she added, “Bear in mind that their reputation comes from people who fish and hunt the mammals of the sea for a living—people unlikely to be popular with a race that changes into seals. I’m surprised you haven’t been asked to try him for the killings just because he is a selkie.”
“Selkie?” Elsic mouthed the word softly. “I dream of the sea, sometimes.” Although his face did not change, there was a melancholy note in his voice that touched even Sham’s Purgatory-hardened heart.
“I tell ye what, lad,” said Talbot slowly. “Not even the Leopard of Altis is going to make the stable a friendly place until we catch the demon. My wife and I have eight girls, and she always wanted a boy—the reason we have eight rather than six. She would enjoy yer company for a few days if ye would be pleased to stay with us until this blows over.”
Kerim gave Talbot a look of thanks. “I think it would be best, Elsic.”
The boy nodded, and gave the horse a final pat before allowing Talbot to lead him away.
“Now that’s just what the boy needed,” rumbled a deep voice from behind Sham in Southern. “A house full of women always makes me happier.”
Sham turned to see a man sitting casually on a barrel against the back wall of the barn. He was well above average height, with a build that would credit any lady’s plaything. The velvet and silk he wore suggested he was moderately wealthy. His waving blond hair made him Southwoodsman and his large, heavy-lidded, vacant eyes hinted at a correspondingly vacant mind—an image already fostered by his size. The only thing that was really out of place was the well-worn hilt of the heavy cutlass he wore at his hip.
Kerim was probably wondering how he sneaked past them in the little barn without anyone noticing him. Sham didn’t wonder, she’d taught him that little trick and several others as well.
“My Lord Reeve,” she said in overly formal tones, “if you have not met him already, I pray you allow me to present the Shark.”
The Shark drew himself to his extraordinary height and made a courtier’s bow. Sham noticed that he was looking even more stupid than usual, and she wondered what he was up to. “We’ve dealt only through others ’til now. Greetings, my lord.”
Kerim nodded, giving the Lord of the Whisper an assessing look. “Well met, sir. You will forgive me if I ask you why you are here.” Kerim indicated the stable with a broad sweep of his hand.
The Shark raised his weaponless hands to signify his harmlessness. “I? I am simply honoring an agreement that Sham and I had concerning a tidbit of information. That I found her in your august company is simply a matter of happy chance.”
Though the words and phrases the Shark used were High Court, his accent was steeped in the vowels of Purgatory, in marked contrast to the rich clothing he wore. As Sham knew he could speak with any accent he chose, switching from one to another as easily as fox could change directions, his show of coarseness could only be for the Reeve’s benefit.
“You found something on the Chen Laut?” Sham asked abruptly, irritated with his attitude.
The Shark bowed to her, without taking his gaze from the Reeve. “I found someone who says that he knows something about it, but he won’t talk unless the Reeve is there.”
“Why would he think that the Reeve is interested in the matter?” Sham kept her eyes on the Shark’s face until he finally met her gaze.
“I have no idea. The associate who found him swears the wizard introduced the condition without prompting.”
She couldn’t see any sign that the Shark was lying, but she knew he could cover a lot with the stupid expression he cultivated. She frowned at him, until he shrugged and lifted his hands to protest his innocence.