Saving Solace

CHAPTER 12

Gerard burst onto a scene of chaos and panic. On one side of the temple grounds, the scaffolding that had supported workmen had partially collapsed and swung away from the building at a crazy angle. There, people were swarming about aimlessly, trying to help and mostly getting in the way. The few individuals who appeared to possess some sense of purpose were digging among the rubble of fallen beams and stone, evidently looking for victims.

Several injured workmen and clerics had been taken aside and were grouped in a cluster at one edge of the site. Some of them sat dazedly, favoring hurt arms and legs. Others lay stretched out on the ground, moaning occasionally. Odila moved among the injured, offering what comfort she could.

Gerard hurried over to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, noting with concern a bad scrape above her left eye where oozing blood was congealing to form a dark crust.

She nodded, her face still blank with shock.

"What happened?"

"Some sort of accident. The scaffolding just gave way at one corner."

Gerard scanned the ranks of injured. "An accident! Is anyone badly hurt?"

Odila shook her head, her braids coming loose and spilling hair down one side of her face. "Just one person, and unfortunately that is Salamon Beach," she said, nodding to a figure completely covered with a tattered cloak. "He was right underneath the structure when it collapsed."

Gerard strode over to the figure and peeled back a corner of the cloak. Salamon Beach gazed up at him with milky, sightless eyes. His features sagged with the weight of death. Blood pooled on the ground beneath his head, the back of which had been crushed by falling debris. Gerard covered the dead man again, then started in sudden recognition.

Salamon Beach, cloaked like this and cradled in the arms of Mishakal's statue, plainly evoked the bloodied figure in his dream.

So was this what the dream, and for that matter Usha's painting, had been trying to tell him? That there would be some sort of accident here? If it actually was an accident.

More people arrived on the scene as word of the tragedy spread throughout Solace. Kaleen led Argyle Hulsey, the local healer, over to attend to the injured. The healer moved swiftly and professionally among them, assessing the extent of the various injuries.

"How is Stonegate?" Odila asked Kaleen. "Was he badly hurt?"

Kaleen shook her head. "Shaken up, and his arm badly bruised, but he's all right."

"Who is Stonegate?" Gerard asked, coming up behind them.

"The chief foreman on the project," Odila explained. "He works-worked-directly under Salamon."

"So he would stand to benefit from this misfortune."

Odila stared at him. "No! What do you mean?"

"Just that this Stonegate might not have liked being the architect's underling. Maybe he wanted to be in charge and saw this as his only opportunity for advancement."

Odila shook her head. "Gerard, you are too wrapped up in the pressures of being sheriff. You don't know Stonegate. That's not like him at all."

"Maybe," Gerard said, chastened. But he made a mental note to question this Stonegate as soon as the possibility presented itself.

Kaleen watched Argyle Hulsey proceed through the ranks of the injured. "Maybe I should see if I can help, even if it's only to offer those who are hurt some tarbean tea." She moved off to consult with the healer.

"I don't know what I'd do without her," Odila said with a sigh, watching Kaleen stride purposefully away. "She's become my right hand in the preparations for the dedication, and she's not even one of my clerics."

"She's certainly a competent young woman," Gerard said, staring after Kaleen as well. She had a saucy step, even in the midst of this unhappy scene, that was a pleasure to behold.

"As for doing without someone, now I don't know what I'm going to do without my architect," Odila said ruefully, turning back to Gerard. "It's a sad loss. And I fear it'll put us days behind." Across the way, someone had apparently organized the workmen into tackling the job of dismantling the damaged scaffolding. The scaffolding swayed precariously, but held together as men began removing the pieces plank by plank and strut by strut. "Salamon Beach certainly seemed like a, uh, valuable person," Gerard said, searching for tact. "But difficult."

"Yes, he could be difficult," Odila agreed. "Although he and I were able to get along all right. And he was worth all the extra bother of dealing with him."

"Did he have any enemies that you're aware of?"

"Salamon? No, not enemies exactly." She paused, then hurried on. "There was something strange that happened a few nights ago. I had almost forgotten, until now."

"Go on," Gerard urged when she fell silent again. "Well, I was coming out of the temple after dark. Everyone else had gone for the night, and I don't think Salamon knew I was still here. I spotted him arguing with a couple of men. They were really pushing him around and abusing him. Then they finished their business and took off into the night. When I asked Salamon about it, he tried to laugh the matter away, but something was wrong. I just couldn't tell what." She shook her head. "For that matter, I still don't know."

Gerard frowned, thinking about the curious incident. On the side of the temple, the attempt to dismantle the scaffolding had hit a snag. Gerard stared in that direction but couldn't make out what the difficulty might be. "These men," he said, "did you recognize them?"

Odila shook her head again. "Never seen them before. But I did get a good look at one of them. It was only by moonlight, but I wouldn't soon forget a face like that." She described the thick, brushlike mustache that obscured the man's upper lip, and the vicious scar that ran from the corner of his left eye down to somewhere under his shirt.

Gerard scratched at his beard, self-conscious about disfiguring scars that left their bearers immediately recognizable. "Could they have rigged an accident of this sort?"

"Oh gosh, I don't know." Odila shrugged. "It is probably nothing more than an inopportune accident. A construction site like this is certainly a dangerous place. This just serves to remind us all of that fact. We all of us need to be more careful, I suppose."

"I suppose." Gerard let the matter drop. Judging by the worried expression on her face, Odila had enough to fret about right now. He decided not to pester her anymore that day about Salamon Beach. And now was not the time to tell her about Usha's painting either. A dwarf with his right arm in a makeshift sling hurried over just then, a sheaf of pages rolled under his left arm. "Lady," he said, bowing to Odila.

She acknowledged the greeting with a nod and turned to Gerard. "This is Stonegate." Then, addressing the dwarf, she asked, "Do you have any idea how long it'll be before we can get started again? And will we be able to complete the project without Salamon to oversee the design?"

"We're clearing away the debris, Lady. It's difficult to be certain at this point, but I believe we'll soon be able to resume work and be back on schedule in a day or two. Of course I would not presume to fill the architect's shoes," he added seriously. "But fortunately, he had brought us to within sight of completing the project. I believe I can get us the rest of the way."

Odila dipped her head in a grave nod, then absently tucked the loose end of her braid behind her ear. "Thank you."

The dwarf's barrel chest swelled with pride. "Lady," the dwarf said simply. Gerard had to admit he seemed an upstanding fellow, not the suspicious type. Stonegate started to turn back to the construction site, then paused and added to Gerard, "I almost forgot. Someone who says he works for you wanted you to come see something before we proceed with any further repairs."

"Oh? Was it Vercleese uth Rothgaard, my deputy?" Gerard asked, falling into step with the dwarf.

Stonegate shrugged, wincing at the discomfort that caused to his injured arm. "Humans are hard to tell apart, forgive me for saying so. Except for Lady Windlass, I cannot distinguish one of you from another."

His words were meant kindly, but his manner remained indifferent. Privately, Gerard thought all dwarves looked alike, too. But clearly, this Stonegate viewed all humans with scorn. Gerard resolved, later, to learn all he could about the dwarf, and whether he might have had anything to do with causing the accident and the death of Salamon Beach.

Stonegate led Gerard to the base of the scaffolding, where the workmen now stood milling about, waiting to resume their tasks. Gerard was surprised to see Blair standing by the scaffolding rather than Vercleese. The sergeant nodded to Gerard in greeting and indicated one of the main struts, where the rope lashing that had secured part of the structure now hung in pieces. "I wanted you to see this, sir," he said in a low voice, indicating the segments of rope.

Gerard stepped closer. He expected to see the rope frayed from whatever wear and tear had caused it to break. Instead, he saw the clean edges of a careful cut, each strand neatly severed.

"Looks like it wasn't an accident," he said.

"My thoughts exactly," said Blair. "Someone did this deliberately. The question is who and why did it collapse just when it did-when Salamon Beach was standing underneath the structure?"

"You think he might have been targeted?"

Blair gave him a faintly contemptuous look. "Don't you?"

Gerard refrained from telling the sergeant just what he thought, although he intended to upbraid him on a more private occasion, letting him know that his impertinent tone was not appreciated and would not be tolerated. "Did anyone witness the accident?"

"A couple of the workmen noticed two rough-looking men they hadn't seen before hanging around shortly before the collapse occurred. One of the men he described as having a thick, coppery mustache and a prominent scar down the left side of his face. No one saw where the pair went or even when they left. They seem to have vanished in the commotion."

Gerard raised an eyebrow. The descriptions matched those of Odila's strangers who had assaulted Salamon Beach a few nights before. Their confrontation must have been more serious than the architect let on-serious enough, perhaps, to get him killed. Gerard nodded. He'd have to see whether anyone else in town could identify these two men. "Well done, Sergeant," he said, clapping Blair on the shoulder. The sergeant shrugged, as though to say it was all in a day's work.

Vercleese arrived just then, and Gerard showed him the rope and filled him in on the "accident," including what Odila had told him about the incident a few nights earlier. Right after that, Palin hurried up to the group, and Gerard explained everything all over again.

Meanwhile, Stonegate stood impatiently to one side, huffing and snorting, clearly anxious to get work started up again and resentful of the humans' wasting of time. The death of his former boss seemed to matter less to him than putting the whole project back on schedule. Finally, Gerard turned to the dwarf. "All right, we're through here for now. But I expect you to inform me if you come across anything else suspicious or see anyone loitering about whom you don't recognize. Is that understood?"

Stonegate hesitated.

"Lady Odila would want you to cooperate in this," Gerard added.

"Oh, well, in that case, of course I'll let you know immediately," the dwarf said, bowing his head before the mere thought of the lady who evidently held him in thrall. Then Gerard and the others walked slowly back to the area where the injured had been grouped.

"So we have another possible murder," Palin said quietly to Gerard. "Do you think it could be related to the death of Sheriff Joyner?"

Gerard scratched his chin. That thought had occurred to him as well. "It does seem unlikely there would be two such unusual murders so close together in time, unless there was some connection," he said cautiously, "although the methods used in the two cases were very dissimilar. Until we get more information on this latest killing, however, we can't know for sure."

Kaleen and Odila were waiting for them where the injured were being treated. Odila looked more her usual self, the color having returned to her face, but Kaleen was beginning to show the strain of having been exposed to injury and death. Gerard thought that she herself could do with one of the mugs of tarbean tea that she had been distributing to the victims.

Only a couple of the injured workmen remained, most having returned to their jobs with minor cuts and scrapes, Odila explained. A few had been taken by Argyle Hulsey to her shop in town for additional treatment. "And she wants to see Salamon's body as soon as we can bring it to her," she continued. "She wants to examine it more closely than she was able to do here."

A crashing noise caused Gerard to spin around nervously, but evidently it was only the controlled demolition of the damaged scaffolding, which now lay in a heap beside the temple wall. Dust from the crash swirled about the men who stood there, to one side. When the dust cleared sufficiently, they swarmed about the ruined woodwork, dismantling it and salvaging any useable timber. Stonegate was back in his element, now that the petty disruption of death and injury was over with. He was barking orders and consulting the rolled pages with drawings of the project.

When Gerard turned back to the conversation, Odila and Kaleen were engaged in some kind of mild argument. "What's the matter?" he asked, trying to play peacemaker.

"She wants to take Salamon's body to Mistress Hulsey," Odila explained. "But I want her to go home and get some rest."

Gerard looked at Kaleen, who swayed a little where she stood, she was so obviously exhausted. "Let her accompany the body back into town," he said. "But only on condition that she go home and get some rest afterward." Odila frowned but nodded.

"I'll go with her," Blair said quickly. "Just to make sure she gets home all right."

"No, I'll go with her," Gerard said firmly, earning a hostile look from Blair. "I want to hear what the healer says, and I want you and Vercleese to see what you can find out about these two men who assaulted Salamon the other night. Circulate their description, find out if they're still in town, and bring them in for questioning."

"But-" Blair began.

Gerard cocked an eyebrow at him, squinting fiercely. "Yes, sir," Blair said, his voice sulky and his face in a scowl.

"I'll join you at Argyle Hulsey's shop," Palin said as Gerard turned to leave. "There are a few things I need to do here first in order to reassure everyone that we are in control of the situation."

"Are we in control of the situation?" Gerard asked only half jokingly.

Palin shrugged. "People will want to think we are, at any rate. It's my job to calm their fears."

Gerard nodded, offered Kaleen his arm for support, and ushered her to the wagon where the body of Salamon Beach was laid out. The whole time, he was uncomfortably aware of Blair's furious stare following the two of them as they walked away. Only when the wagon was bumping and swaying on its way to town, with the two of them safely aboard, did he begin to relax.

Eventually, he and the surly sergeant were going to have to have a confrontation.

Meanwhile Usha had taken a break from working on Odila's portrait.

The house needed cleaning, and that took an hour or so. Then she cut some flowers and placed them in a vase on the table. Afterward, she felt she really must get some bread dough mixed. When the dough had been kneaded and placed in cloth-covered pans to rise, Usha washed the flour from her hands and looked about for some further distraction. There was nothing else to do. Everything was now in its place. The house was spotless. All was as it should be.

Usha frowned.

At last, she walked resolutely into her studio, where she mixed her paints and gathered her brushes. Only when all was ready did she remove the protective cloth that always hung in front of one of her paintings in progress.

And froze.

The half-seen images that had been there previously were gone at last. But in their place was a far worse portent, for one wall of the temple was now unaccountably dripping with blood.

Usha dropped her implements, letting the cloth fall back across the face of the painting, and ran for the temple, knowing for certain that a death had already occurred.