The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [100]
"Here's one," said Demok, stepping in and lowering Kehrsyn's body to the floor, face down. Massedar started to say something, but Demok cut him off. "Other's coming."
After a moment, a foursome of guards shuffled in, panting and puffing, and dropped Ekur.
"Here ye are, sir," wheezed the sergeant.
Massedar stepped closer to the old priest and stared at his lifeless face. He kneeled and pressed his fingers into the fleshy neck, looking for a pulse he knew he wouldn't find.
"I fear the hours of his life are spent," he said with measured sadness. "Nothing remaineth to be done, save only the final rites of passage. These shall I do for my old friend, alone. Let the doors be closed and the news be borne to the others of the house that Ahegi hath fallen." The guards nodded and backed out, closing the doors behind them.
Massedar rose, stepped over, and kneeled down beside Kehrsyn. He took her cold hand in his, and a curious, chuckling sigh of longing escaped his lips.
He turned to Demok and asked, "What hath come to pass here?"
Kehrsyn awoke with a groan.
"What happened?" she slurred.
She tried to sit up, but her vision swam. It seemed like a huge, heavy stone was rolling around inside her skull, whipping her head back and forth on her weak, noodle neck. She started to cry out in pain and despair, but a hand clamped over her mouth. Fortunately, whoever it was also cradled her head and shoulders in one arm and lowered her gently back down.
"Rest easy," said a terse, rough voice.
"Demok?"
"Sshh, quietly," he answered, pressing a flask of warm liquid to her lips. "Drink this."
She took a few sips of the bitter, musky tea, then drank several heavy swallows once she got used to the flavor. She sighed and sank back, only then realizing that she lay on a comfortable mattress with a pillow beneath her head and warm woolen blankets tucked around. She heard a fire crackling and the incessant drumming of the winter's rain on the roof over her head.
"Where am I?"
"Massedar's suite."
"But-" she began, and memory returned to her. "What did you do?" she asked, suspicious, but too weak to do anything about it.
She turned her head toward his voice and stared with bleary eyes.
He sat beside her, cross-legged on the floor. He ran one knuckle back and forth across his lower lip, his palm facing Kehrsyn so that his hand partially shielded his face. He looked back at her from beneath his brows, not an intimidating expression, but rather one of discomfort and shame.
"I… struck you. Base of the neck. Pommel of my sword… I'm sorry."
"Why?" she asked, and the pain of betrayal leaked into her voice.
Demok's eyes flickered, almost a wince, and he said, "Ahegi's order still stood. Kill you on sight. No questions. You couldn't enter Wing's Reach alive."
"So you knocked me out?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Why not change Ekur's order?"
"Might be accomplices. They must think you're dead."
"I could have snuck in," she said.
He drew his mouth into a grim line and replied, "Couldn't take the chance. The guards are alert. Besides, it helps for them to see your corpse."
"Well, why hit me like that? I could have pretended I was dead."
"Would have shivered. Or twitched."
"You could have at least asked before you did it," she groused.
"Would have been harder," replied Demok. "For both of us," he added, more quietly.
"Well, I still think mere must have been a better way."
Demok turned the cold compress over and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.
"I know," he said.
He rose and stepped over to the fire. Kehrsyn heard some clinking, as of coins, and after a few moments he came back holding a burlap bag that looked like it had something the size of a cat in it. He shook it. It jingled.
"Silvers, warmed by the fire," he said. "They'll help."
He sat back down beside her, pulled back the blanket from her shoulder, and gently placed the bag of heated coins at the base of her neck,