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Chapter 2 - A Price of Blood
Sebastian spent over a week closeted with the scroll, pouring over his books and scribbling into a notebook. Caina realized that he was attempting to translate it, converting the Maatish hieroglyphs into legible Caerish. She read in the library, but otherwise let him work in peace. When the scholarly fit came upon her father, nothing could distract him.
So when she got hungry, she visited the servants.
Caina got on well with her father’s servants. They had always been kind to her, even during her mother’s rages. As Caina got older, she realized that they felt sorry for her, and feared and detested Laeria. She knew that some nobles treated their servants badly, but her father always said that the true measure of a man was how he treated his servants, or those who could not hurt him or repay him.
So Caina tried to repay the servants' kindness in turn. The gods knew they took enough abuse from Laeria, after all.
Caina wandered into the villa's kitchen, looking for Azaia, the old Saddaic cook who prepared the family's meals. The kitchen had four large ovens and a dozen tables, but Count Sebastian rarely entertained guests, and Azaia and her few helpers never lit more than one oven.
"Azaia?" Caina called to the empty kitchen. "Are you there?"
Her voice echoed off the stone walls.
Caina blinked in surprise. Where was Azaia? She usually had breakfast ready by now.
But the ovens were dark, and the kitchen quiet and empty.
"Azaia?" called Caina again, looking around. Had the old woman overslept? That seemed inconceivable. Or maybe she had gotten sick, and hadn't told anyone? Caina made up her mind and headed to the kitchen's back door. Azaia lived in a small room behind the kitchens, and Caina would see if she had fallen ill...
She stopped.
There was a strange smell in the air, something metallic.
She turned, frowning.
Something dark and wet trickled down the wall, leaking from the leftmost oven. Had Azaia left something in there? That, too, seemed out of character. Caina walked to the brick wall, gripped the iron handles, and pulled the metal door open.
Azaia stared at her from within the oven, dead eyes glassy, torn throat covered in blood.
The scream ripped out of Caina like something alive.
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Her father's seneschal Morus found her, drawn by the screams, and almost started screaming himself. He shouted for the rest of the servants. Eventually her father arrived and pulled her from the gruesome scene.
"What happened?" said Sebastian.
"I...I don't know," said Caina, trying to talk through the tears. She had read about violence, of course, but to see it with her own eyes was something else. "I came down for some food, to see if Azaia was cooking breakfast. No one was around, so I looked for her, and I saw the...I saw the blood leaking from the oven..."
Sebastian looked stricken. He had known Azaia for longer, after all, before Caina had even been born.
"Who could have done this?" said Caina.
"I don't know," said Sebastian, voice quiet. He fiddled with his heavy signet ring. "But we're going to find out, Caina. I promise you that. Whoever did this will be brought to account."
He stared at the bloodstain, his expression grim.
"Why would anyone kill Azaia?" said Caina. "She is...she was...so kind. Who would have hated her enough to do this?"
"I don't know," said Sebastian. "Azaia had no money, no influence. There was no reason for anyone to kill her. No reason at all. No reason to spill her blood." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Except for the blood itself."
He said the last so quietly she almost didn't hear it.
"You...know, don't you?" said Caina, puzzled. "You know who did this?"
"Maybe," said Sebastian. "I hope I'm wrong." He closed his eyes. "But if I'm wrong...then I've been blind. A blind fool." He opened his eyes. "I'm going to need help with this. Morus!"
The seneschal hurried over, face pale.
"Lord Count?" he said.
"Stay here," said Sebastian. "Don't let anyone inside."
"Where will you go, my lord?" said Morus.
"To town," said Sebastian. "I will inform the decimvirs of the murder, and...arrange for additional assistance." He took Caina's hand. "Come with me. Quickly."
They hurried through the villa's hallways and entered the library. The Maatish scroll still lay upon the desk, held open by two heavy books. Sebastian knelt behind the desk, opened the bottom drawer, and reached inside. He drew out a small wooden box and unlocked it.
Inside rested a single tarnished silver coin, its inscription and portrait worn with age.
"That's...the Emperor Cormarus, isn't it?" said Caina, curiosity overriding her fear.
"It is," said Sebastian, picking up the ancient coin.
"I've never seen him on a coin," said Caina. The Emperor Cormarus had ruled millennia ago, during the age of the Second Empire. Most of his coins would have been lost or melted down long ago. "Why would you need such an ancient coin?"
"I don't," said Sebastian, sliding the coin into a coat pocket. "The coin itself has no value. But it will send a message to the right people." He took Caina by the shoulders. "Stay in the library until I return. It shouldn't be long."
"I don't want to be left alone," said Caina. She remembered Azaia's dead eyes. "What if...what if the man who killed Azaia comes for me?"
Sebastian looked away. "I don't think he will. But I will have Morus send one of the maids to keep you company." He kissed her forehead. "I will be back."
Then he left. Caina walked to the windows, and in a few minutes saw her father on horseback, riding towards Aretia. Galloping, actually.
He rode through the town's gates and vanished from sight.
Caina turned towards the shelves, running a finger along the leather spines of the books, but her mind was in too much turmoil to read. Why would anyone want to kill Azaia? Had thieves done it, perhaps? But why hadn't they tried to break into her father's strong room, or the library? Maybe the smugglers had returned to reclaim their Maatish scroll?
But the scroll sat untouched on Sebastian's desk. Caina doubted that Azaia had even known about it. And it was just a dusty old scroll, written by people long dead. It couldn't be worth spilling blood over.
All that blood, dripping down the wall...
No reason to kill her except for her bl