Realms of Infamy - James Lowder [118]
"What if the father wakes?" I asked. "You might need me there."
"He's bedridden!" he chided.
"Well, what if he shouts a warning? Or what if the woman puts up more of a fight than you're anticipating?"
I could tell he thought it strange, my insisting on participating, but I got the impression that perhaps he believed I had a morbid fascination with the idea of seeing him strangle someone. I didn't care what he thought. I had to be there to find a way to stop him.
When we reached home, Renek showed me the dowry. It was an awe-inspiring collection for sure. There was gold aplenty, and more. An entire necklace of dragon scales shimmered in blue and purple hues. There was an arm bracelet, hewn in detail so fine it could only be from a master dwarven crafter. Emeralds glittered from the intricate bevels on its surface. I wondered at the cache. I had heard Ashana's stories of her father's business, but his wife must have come from royalty to stock a dowry chest like that. And the son truly was a drunken fool to part with those riches to gain claim to a business and house that were probably worth less.
* * * * *
Lights were on only in the front of the large manor. We entered in the back where it was dark. The door was unlocked as Menge had said it would be. Renek said Menge had promised to go out for the night and get too drunk to remember anything. I was sure we could trust him at that.
As soon as we got inside I scanned the darkness for a tray of glasses, a suit of armor-anything that would clatter when it fell. I thought perhaps I could startle Ashana so she would cry out and alert neighbors or passersby before we could get near.
The house was silent. I was thinking Ashana might hear us even before we got much closer. Then she started to sing.
It was an ancient hymn of Myrkul, God of Death. My grandmother had sung it when my grandfather died. Ashana's voice lilted through the vast house, clear, and so mournful it felt as if someone were physically pressing on my heart. Renek started to tiptoe forward, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. I froze, mortified. I had put a hand on my master. I don't know what I thought he would do about such insolence, but to my surprise he just motioned impatiently for me to follow him toward the lighted room. For a moment, I did so, dumbly.
Then it hit me. The woman's father had just died. She was doing her duty and sending his spirit to rest. And none of this fazed Renek. He was still going to kill her.
I stepped forward-three long, quick steps, and I grabbed him.
I caught his head fast in the crook of my elbow. If he tried to yell, it was muffled by my arm. I pulled him back and down, hard. I tripped him to the floor. I straddled him, pushed his shoulders hard to the ground, and then I put both my hands around his throat.
In the dim light, his eyes reminded me of the opossum's as I pressed against his throat. I watched my hands as they squeezed more tightly. The knuckles bulged. So did Renek's Adam's apple. There was a slight gurgling sound as he died.
I thought for a moment of Renek, lunging prematurely at Sil. Perhaps, even for a professional there is something impetuous about murder.
Ashana was still singing in the other room. "Carry, carry. O Dark Soldier. Carry, carry, o'er and away."
I stood and walked quietly to the doorway. Tall candles formed a circle around the bed in the center of the room. Ashana was draping a cloth over her father's body. I felt more an intruder now than I had a moment ago, sneaking in with Renek. Ashana must have sensed I was there, though. She turned and motioned for me to enter the room.
"Menge wanted this?"
She knew. I nodded.
I could see tears forming in her eyes. She looked beyond me at first and then straight at me. "I saw him with Renek one day-after Menge took my dowry. I know what Renek does, what you do."
I recognized the look in her eyes. I'd seen it before. "You knew," she said. "You were here, with Renek, to kill me."
"No."