A Magic of Dawn

Jan ca’Ostheim

“The pebble on the left eye-that’s the signature of the White Stone. How she entered Rance’s apartments, we don’t know. The door was locked when Paulus arrived; the windows are all latched from the inside.” Eris Cu’Bloch, Commandant of the Garde Brezno, shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hirzg. He was long dead when they found him. There was nothing to be done.”

A raw, sickening fury enveloped Jan. He stared at Rance’s body on the bed, the pebble still over his left eye, his right clouded and open. Paulus ci’Simone, one of Rance’s trusted assistants, sat with his head bowed and hands clasped between his knees in a chair. In the outer room, the door to Rance’s apartment hung askew on its hinges from where it had been broken in by the palais staff, and occasionally one of the staff would walk past hurriedly, face averted.

“There’s blood, but not enough,” Jan commented.

“No,” cu’Bloch agreed. “Nor does it look like he struggled much with his attacker.” He lifted Rance’s bloodied nightgown: it had been sliced open along the side by a sharp knife, and Jan could see the long cut on the man’s side, but the cut was not so deep as to have been fatal. “If you look closely, you can see a dark, oily substance in the cut. If you touch it, it burns. I think the blade that did this was poisoned, though with what…” Cu’Bloch shrugged. “I don’t know of a poison that works quickly and effectively enough that Rance wouldn’t have had time to defend himself, but perhaps the White Stone does.”

Jan pressed his lips together. “Cover him,” he said to cu’Bloch. “Paulus, he was this way when you found him?”

Paulus lifted his head and nodded mournfully. “Yes, my Hirzg. Rance was supposed to go over the day’s kitchen menu with me at First Call, and when he didn’t arrive, I knocked on his door and found it locked. He didn’t answer our calls, so I found two of the staff gardai and we broke in. I saw him in his bed, just like that, his skin cold. ..” Paulus stopped. His eyes glistened suddenly and a tear tracked down his face. “We called for the Commandant and you.”

“You don’t know how the White Stone might have gained entry?” Commandant cu’Bloch asked. Paulus shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jan said. “This was the White Stone. She’s here.” He scowled.

She’s here. As she’d been here when Hirzg Fynn had been assassinated. He felt as if his hands had suddenly gone cold: that death had been his matarh’s doing. It had been Allesandra who’d hired the White Stone; he’d learned that to his disgust, and that had been one of the reasons he’d abandoned her and the Holdings when the moment had been there to reunify the empire.

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.