“So?” asked an eager maid near his elbow. The girl had black hair and dark eyes, offset by deliciously pale skin. “Was it a murder, do you think? What should we do?”
Garret glanced around, aware that there was a whole group of women and men, all dressed for the wedding, standing behind him. He could feel the weight of their eyes like a heavy cloak. If only the Lady Sora hadn't disappeared!
“Move the body to a proper place,” he finally said, his brown eyes sweeping over the guests. That seemed like the right thing to do. A group of servants stepped forward and began to heft the Lord's limp form away to a side chamber. “And, for the last time, does anyone know where our Lady Sora is?”
“Ask Lilly, sir!” a kitchen boy said, pointing to the maid with the dark hair. "She was Lady Sora's handmaid! Doesn't she know?"
The brunette maid looked up with wide eyes, perhaps a little too wide. Garret stared at her, trying to get a hint of her thoughts. The girl stood straight, smoothing out her heavy skirts, pale blue in color with a neatly embroidered apron, but Garret wasn't fooled. She knew something. Or at least, he thought she might know something. He wasn't very good at these things.
“Your name?” he asked awkwardly.
The girl blushed in response. Garret didn't know if it was an act. “Lilly, Milord,” she curtsied.
Garret stepped close to her side. “Lilly, do you know where my bride might have gone?"
The maid didn't bat an eye. "No."
“Really? You can't remember anything?”
“Well....” Lilly looked perplexed. "She asked for a calming potion before the wedding. That's all."
“Actually,” piped up the voice of a blond, plump kitchen maid. The woman stepped forward from the crowd of guests and servants. “I did hear a sort of scream from the back hallways, but I didn't think anything of it. There was a lot of other screaming going on.” She cast a scornful eye on the fluttery guests, who were now fanning themselves, whispering amongst each other.
Garret's attention focused on the new maid. “You say you heard a scream?”
“Aye, sir,” the woman nodded. “And come to think of it, it sounded a lot like our dear Lady.”
Lord Garret opened his mouth to say something, a horrible idea forming in his mind, but again he was interrupted by a slamming door. The impact was so hard that it made the paintings quiver, and a handful of shrieks came from the guests.
“Stand aside, stand aside!” yelled a man dressed in the house colors. He held a lantern over his head and was pushing his way through the crush of people. As he broke through, Garret could see that there was another person at his side, this one a boy perhaps of sixteen. The boy was sweaty and shaking, and collapsed at Garret's feet, heaving for breath.
“Lord! My Lord!” he gasped; obviously he had run a long way to reach the manor. “I saw him! I mean, I saw her – they were together! He took her!”
“Wait, wait, young man, slow down.” Garret tried to speak soothingly, but he was almost as jittery as the boy. “What did you see? Who took what?”
“Lady Sora!” the boy gasped. “I saw her, but she was dressed in peasant clothes! At first I didn't recognize her, they rode by so fast, but she was with... with a man, a man dressed in black.... He took her with him! He kidnapped her! Oh dear sweet Goddess... he was holding a knife to her throat!”
The hallway had been filled with the noise of rustling clothes and murmuring voices, but now a hush fell on the guests. All of the ladies turned and looked at the servant boy, who grew red under their scrutiny. Lord Garret stood silently in thought. Was it true? Had the Lord been assassinated... and the daughter kidnapped?
“Where were you when you saw them?” he asked, his mind working quickly. He was no good at hero antics. The thought of dashing off after them made him feel slightly green.
“I was crossing the fields to the North of here,” the young man pointed over his shoulder, as though that would make things clearer. “I was running, trying to make it back to the manor before nightfall.... I was a bit late for the wedding, forgive me, my Lord, I was - eh - visiting a sick aunt in... ah-”
Garret waved his hand to stop the boy's muttering. “And you saw them riding together?” he asked.
“Aye, Milord.”
“On one horse?”
“Aye.”
“And what direction were they headed?”
“West, Milord.”
Garret lowered his hand to think for a moment, a frown growing on his face. He felt as though a great sack of coin had just been lifted from his belt. It made him want to squirm. It would probably take a great sack of coin to follow after the Lady Sora, if she had indeed been kidnapped, and if she was – indeed – still alive.
"Well, there we have it," he finally said. There was nothing else for it. He would have to cut his losses and find some other rich woman to marry. "It would appear... that Lady Sora has eloped!"
A gasp came from the crowd. The maid, Lilly, raised a hand to her mouth. "It has become apparent to me that our dear Lady has ran off with some ruffian... and her father has fallen victim to the crime!"
"She murdered her own father?" a lady cried out from the back of the crowd. More voices rose in concern. "She ran off with a lover?"
"She ran away from her own wedding?"
"She abandoned her fortune?"
"Yes, yes, and yes!" Lord Garret exclaimed. The honest truth was that he didn't know what had happened to Lady Sora, not for sure... and he doubted such a pretty face was capable of fowl play. But any other arrangement would demand that he pursue her, and he was no good at risking his own life – no sir, no good at all.
There was another gasp from the ladies and a flutter of movement; one, a highly decorated brunette, stepped forward. "My Lord, what now?"
“Well... well, as there can be no wedding," Lord Garret started slowly, "it would appear... it would appear as though there is a great amount of food about to be wasted. I say we finish dinner, enjoy the wine, and tomorrow be on our way. I will see to the funeral arrangements.” It was the least he could do; he couldn't just leave the body laying out on a table. “Let's all go to the banquet hall and finish our dinner. Meanwhile, someone needs to start sweeping up all this glass....” He stepped across the floor carefully, heading for the adjoining room.
The guests followed like sheep. Lord Garret hoped that no one noticed his sweaty, clammy palms, which he dug nervously into his pockets. He needed to find a new bride, and quickly. Perhaps one of the ladies in the room was rich and unattached, or had a finely endowed cousin. He couldn't even begin to fathom Lady Sora's fate, or where she might be at that very moment. Tomorrow would be a very different kind of day, indeed.
* * * * *
It was the morning after the disastrous wedding night, and Lilly found herself distraught. She had been awake all night thinking, twisting and turning between the sheets, fighting with her overstuffed pillows. Lady Sora — with a lover? Why wouldn't she tell me? All these years they had been friends, close as sisters, and never a word about a boy. She didn't want to believe it was true... yet it explained her Lady's odd behavior, her constant daydreams, her resistance to the wedding dress....
In fact, elopement would be exactly the kind of thing Lady Sora would do. But Lilly had never considered the possibility, never in her wildest dreams... I mean, only a crazy person would give up that kind of fortune.... But her Lady very rarely had both feet on the ground. It really made perfect sense. It might just be one of the scandals of the century, especially considering her Lord's death.... She just wished she could have been in on the scheme. At least then she wouldn't have to worry.
Lilly yawned. She was exhausted after her sleepless night, and had been working since early in the morning, sending off guests, helping to load carriage after carriage with large chests of luggage. Carriages were lined up almost a mile down the front drive, a river of polished wood and bright paint, and each needed to be loaded, checked, and sent on their way. Horses were being brough
t out from the stables. Numerous servants were running back and forth carrying bags. Lord Garret had left already after making funeral arrangements with the local temple; a disciple of the Goddess would be arriving some time the next day to prepare the body for a funeral pyre.
Even worse was the paperwork. There were a million things to be done now for her Lord's estate, and her seniority on the staff meant that she would be in charge of most of it. She would need to notify his next of kin by mail. The house and the property would change hands, and several dozen jobs would be shifted, rearranged, perhaps eliminated completely. Her own might be one of them. Who knew where she might end up by the end of the year.... It was a troubling thought, and the frown on her brow deepened. She had been working in the manor practically since she could walk. She didn't know where she would go after this.
Lilly was lost in thought when a young man ran up to her, a folded slip of paper in his hand. She looked into his red, breathless face.
“There's someone here to see you!” the youth exclaimed, and handed her the piece of paper. “He has questions about last night. He's waiting for you in our Lord's audience chamber.”
Lilly nodded, sick with anxiety. Had word traveled already? Of course it had; it would be the gossip of the county within a day. This was probably the first of many curious visitors. She was surprised that the local paper hadn't shown up yet.
She walked from the front steps through a wide set of double doors, into the foyer, then up a staircase to her Lord's audience chamber. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then straightened her clothes and entered the room.
It was a chamber she had cleaned and dusted many times. Richly decorated, there were indoor plants in the corners, bookshelves along the walls, and a magnificent fireplace to one side where two chairs sat. But at this moment both chairs were empty. The man she had come to see was standing with his back turned to her, a long blue cloak shrouding his figure, his fingers slowly trailing along a row of books near the back of the room.
"Excuse me," she said formally, and made another quick bow. The figure turned to look at her as she straightened. Lilly felt like she swallowed a walnut.
This man was like none she had ever seen before — she couldn't tell if he was a Lord or of noble birth. He was well-traveled by his stained clothes, but the fabric he wore was of an expensive make. Perhaps another woman would have found his exotic appearance attractive, but Lilly found it chilling; his skin was of a pale hue, his hair woven strands of silver, and his eyes a piercingly cold blue. This wasn't what startled her, however. Lilly found herself staring at the man's sloping ears, which sharpened to a point at the tips. He smiled at her slowly, as though enjoying her surprise, and then Lilly had a second shock — the man's teeth drew down into fangs!
He doesn't look like any human I've ever seen.
The man — if it was a man — stepped forward and nodded to her, and she could see a nervous tick begin around his mouth. Another eerie chill settled in her stomach, making the hair on the back of her neck rise.
"H-how may I help you?" she asked softly, steeling her nerve.
The strange man continued to walk towards her until he was standing a brief distance away. A little too close. She swallowed hard.
"Ahem, yes," he responded in an equally soft voice. "I heard there was a murder last night. I have some very important questions. Do you know what happened here?"
Lilly nodded, feeling more and more uneasy by the second. “I'm not sure I understand.... Who are you?”
"Yes, well..." the man carried on in the same unsettling tone. "I am hunting a fugitive, you see. A very dangerous man, and his trail has led me to this place. I thought it was no coincidence when I overheard of the murder. I was hoping that someone in the manor might have seen the killer. Can I speak to the bride or groom?"
Lilly frowned, worried. “The groom left early this morning... and the bride, well, from what we understand, she eloped last night with a lover....”
“A lover?” The man's eyes sharpened.
“Y-yes.” Lilly bit her tongue. When he didn't say anything more, she added, “No one saw the killer, if there even was one. Could you tell me what he looked like?"
"Tall," the man responded, and his eyes gleamed in a way that made Lilly's heart pound. "Thin build, black hair, green eyes, and I expect — yes, I expect he'd be dressed in black." The man smiled as though this was somehow a joke. "He has an immeasurable capacity for violence, dear girl; he is a cold-blooded murderer. Some might even say his thirst for blood is... inhuman." The silver-haired man grinned and his fangs flashed in the light. Lilly took a step back despite herself.
"Uhm," she said slowly, her mouth dry. "We did have a murder last night. The Lord of this house was killed. We didn't see the suspect, only a stable boy, who said that our Lady and some stranger were riding away on a horse. It is thought that she eloped from the wedding. I don't know if that's the man you're looking for."
The traveler was silent, but his eyes stayed on Lilly until she had the urge to look away. Finally he nodded. "I've already talked to the boy. Yes, this is the man I'm after. Do you know which way he headed after the murder?"
Lilly nodded slowly. "It's said that he headed West.”
The man stood for a moment, eerily still, like a frozen lake. “I must leave immediately, before the trail grows cold,” he said abruptly. “Your assistance in this matter is appreciated.”
Lilly nodded again, still sick to her stomach. She watched as the stranger bowed and headed swiftly for the hallway. "I-If you find the killer, could you make sure Lady Sora is safe?” she called after him. “I feel like there might have been an accident....”
“Murder is never an accident,” the man said over his shoulder.
She opened her mouth to reply, but the door slammed in her face.
* * * * *
A thin smile twisted on Volcrian's lips as he walked out of the manor, past the scurrying servants and pockets of guests, and back to where he had left his horse tethered to a tree near the front drive. The rush of excitement kept his thoughts optimistic and his mind clear. Viper had been here. He could smell the assassin in faint traces on the breeze; sense his presence in the blood that had so recently been spilled. He had viewed the Lord's body long before meeting with the maid. The poison on the blade was unmistakable, the Lord's blood tainted black in his veins.
Viper is certainly a killer capable of this. As Volcrian mounted his horse and turned it toward the West, he continued to ponder the strange situation. Elopement? The girl had run away from her wedding — and with the assassin, at that? The facts didn't add up. A creature like Viper was incapable of love. Perhaps the girl had feelings, but she couldn't know the true nature of her lover. No, she couldn't possibly – a woman's heart was a foolish and naïve thing, and the assassin's kind was well trained in shadows and deception. This runaway bride had fallen for a few slick words, but Volcrian knew the way the assassin's mind worked. No innocent would be spared: no woman and no child. He didn't feel sorry for the girl. Anyone who loved a murderer such as Viper deserved the worst fate. Guilty by association. She might as well have killed her own father.
Volcrian clenched his crippled fist, abruptly seething with hatred — the world was a disgusting place: putrid, selfish, deceitful. Pain shuddered through his hand, the muscles cramping from disuse, and he blinked, eyes full of hot tears. He wondered if anyone else in the girl's family was effected by the murder. A mourning uncle, perhaps? Siblings left abandoned and fatherless, or maybe a wife now widowed. An untimely death could devastate a family, rip it to pieces. His brother had been dead two years now, and yet it felt like yesterday — he was not close to forgetting. The assassin must pay, even if that meant killing the two Wolfies who accompanied him, the bastard riffraffs who had so easily abandoned their own kind... and for what? Money? Thievery? Fun? He had confronted them once, long ago, in a tavern by the roadside, back when he was more trusting. They had called him unbalanced, insane — laughed
in his face, as though he were a clown. He would have killed them on the spot if he hadn't been outnumbered. Yes, they deserved to die... and anyone else who got in his way.
His thoughts returned to the present. Now there was a trail — and it was warm with blood. Volcrian's smile stretched wide, his fangs gleaming in the light. Yes, the killer was finally in his grasp, and after too many years of searching, of taking wild stabs in the dark. His prey was only a day's ride in front of him. Soon. Soon there would be justice. But Volcrian had been this close before; if he wasted too much time, the killer would slip through his fingers again. He needed a way to stall the travelers until he could catch up with them; he wanted to feel Viper's blood running over his crippled hand and taste it dripping from his fangs....
He led his horse into a field of bright yellow grass. Nothing but the gentle swish of the wind disturbed the silence. A lock of long silver hair fell across his fine-boned face, and he swept it aside absently, his eyes endlessly searching the horizon. I will need to work out a spell to trap them... to keep them busy for a while.... To delay them while he caught up.
It was always a challenge deciding which spell to use. Wolfy magic was perhaps the most powerful of the races, but it also cost the highest price. For each spell he cast, it took days to recover, and he had to admit, after the past years of studying magic, he did not feel like himself anymore. No, there was a darkness now, something creeping up in his bones, unnatural. The thought made him uncomfortable, and he turned his mind toward a location, toward some place that would be secluded enough for him to begin spellcasting. He would need a sacrifice, but that was easy enough; simply catch an animal and bleed it dry....
A plan slowly began to form in his mind, and as it formed, another twisted smile grew on his lips. This time he was sure to succeed, and then... then he'd be able to live the rest of his life in peace.