The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [21]
“What? How would—”
“I ken it not! But she did let me see, oh and so full of hate she were as well, she did let me see that she thinks this ill lies at my door.”
Verrarc hesitated. All her life Raena had been prone to embroidering her truths to present them in the most exciting possible light, but this time there was no denying her terror. He stood and took a few steps toward her.
“Listen to me, Rae. The time be here for the truth. There be naught I can do to keep you safe without the truth.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked up at him, her lips trembling.
“Well, did you slay him?” Verrarc said. “You do have strong witchery, Rae, and I ken not its limits. Did you slay Demet?”
“Never!” Her eyes glazed with tears. “I swear it to you, Verro. Never would I do such a thing.”
“Then who did? Your Lord Havoc?”
“He were the one.” Raena started to get up, but she was shaking too hard. “Demet did come blundering in. The silver light, it were so strong I never did see nor hear him till there he was. And Havoc—I ken not what he did. But the lad screamed and fell back dead.”
Verrarc realized that he’d been holding his breath and let it out in a long sigh. Raena raised one hand as if she feared he would strike her. Sweat was beading on her upper lip and forehead.
“I do believe you,” Verrarc said. “But do you see what this means? Your Lord Havoc. He be no god, Rae, but an evil spirit indeed. It were best if never you invoked him again.”
“I must! You don’t understand! There be a need on me to find out what he does ken about—” Her voice caught and stumbled. “About a certain matter.”
“Rae! These cursed secrets!”
She moaned and let her head flop back, then forward. For a moment he stood staring at her until he at last realized that she had fainted. He ran to the door that led to the back of the house and called for his manservant.
“Harl! Come here!” Verrarc shouted. “Your aid!”
Verrarc ran back to Raena, who lay sprawled in the chair. He knelt beside her and caught her cold hand between both of his. All at once her head jerked up, and she seemed to be looking about her.
“Rae?” he whispered.
Her head turned toward the sound, but her eyes—he’d never seen eyes so blank and dead. It seemed to him that her soul had fled, yet left her body still alive to move about and breathe like some mindless animal.
“Master!” Young Harl came running into the room. “What—Ye gods! Your lady!”
Raena’s head turned toward the sound of his voice, but her eyes stayed dead-seeming. Her mouth flopped open, and she began to make noises, first a sputter, then a gurgling ugly rumble in her throat that nonetheless had the cadence of words. Harl gasped and stepped back fast.
“Run get the herbwoman!” Verrarc snapped. “I’ll tend my lady.”
Harl nodded and raced out of the room. Verrarc squeezed Raena’s hand hard.
“Rae, Rae,” he whispered. “Come back!”
Her head flopped back with a long moist sigh. Verrarc stood, then picked her up, settling her head against his shoulder. Once she’d been a solid young woman, but now—he was shocked at how light she seemed. Without much difficulty he carried her into their bedchamber and laid her down on the bed. In the small hearth, wood and kindling stood stacked and ready. Verrarc hurried back into the reception chamber and grabbed a long splint from the woodpile.
“Master?” Old Korla came shuffling in. “Has Harl gone daft? He did come into my kitchen babbling of evil spirits.”
“Not daft in the least.” Verrarc heard his voice shaking. “Did he go fetch Gwira as I asked him?”
“He did, truly.”
“Good. My lady does lie in our chamber. Go sit with her whilst I take some of this fire.”
When Verrarc came in with the blazing splint, he saw that Korla had spread a blanket over Raena, who lay un-moving, her open eyes staring at the ceiling. For a horrible moment he thought her dead, but she moaned and stirred. He knelt by the hearth and touched the splint to the kindling, blew on the tentative