Chapter 2: Volume 1 The Necromancer, The Murder
Sorin had seen blood before, more than he cared to recall. He'd seen men crushed, men dismembered, men more broken in spirit and mind than they could ever be in body. He'd seen people torn apart by demon hands, seen the damage black magic could do. He'd seen ten thousand nightmares and would see ten thousand more before he died. Women, children He still had nightmares about the children.
But none of it was as terrible as the gore and limbs and innards of his cousin, scattered and smeared across the confines of the small solar that Alfrey had favored when he wanted to work in peace and quiet.
Sorin slammed the door shut, belatedly sealing it so no others could enter, and then was immediately sick in the first chamber pot he found a couple of doors down the hall. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then belatedly recalled the handkerchief in his tunic. Pulling it out, he wiped his hand and mouth, striving to think and not simply recall that horrific scene. Thank Goddess She had led him to it before another had found it first.
Her warmth pulsed in his chest, bright and hot, and spread through his body to lend sorely needed comfort and strength. Sorin closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists to still their trembling. He swallowed, trying to wash away the acrid, sour-sweet taste of vomit lingering in his mouth.
Who, how, and whythose were the details that mattered. How had someone managed to commit such a crime in the heart of the castle while the king, high priest, and high paladin, not to mention the thousands of other inhabitants, remained oblivious? And whywhy would anyone want to murder someone so good? Never mind the savage nature of the murder. Alfrey had no enemies to the best of Sorin's knowledge. Everyone had loved Alfrey.
Who would murder a man so close to Sorin, High Paladin of the Kingdom of Vindeia?
He realized he was trembling again and forced himself to stop. The king had to be informed, as well as the high priest. Sorin would have to figure out how to answer the questions of who, why, and how. He would have to go back into that terrible room.
Sorin would be able to tell the king right away. The high priest would be finishing the dawn ceremony, but by the time Sorin finished reporting to the king, the high priest would be available. Past that Best that no one else knew, yet. It would cause a panic.
He made his way first to the kitchens, grateful that it was early enough the halls were still mostly deserted. Normally the smells of fresh bread, porridge, honey, cheese, and all the other myriad foods prepared for breakfast would have made him smile. Right then, they only made him nauseous. He quickly drank a mug of hot ale to rinse away the lingering taste of vomit before hurrying from the kitchens.
Slipping through the halls of the castle, Sorin at last reached the throne room. Like the halls, it was mostly deserted save for a small crowd gathered to speak to the king. Even King Rofell did not sleep long when there were so many problems to address, and people traveled long through dangerous lands to plead their cases.
Sorin pushed through the throng and motioned to King Rofell. Minutes later, the room was empty save for the two of them. "What's wrong now?" Rofell asked.
As quickly as possible, without sacrificing anything, Sorin related how he had woken earlier than usual to a painful throbbing of alarm and grief from the Goddess, causing his chest to hurt, his entire body to ache. Following the throbbing, searching the castle bottom to top, it had not taken him long to come upon the remains of Alfrey's body.
Rofell was silent when Sorin finished, grim-faced and still. At length, he asked, "No clues as to who has done this terrible thing?"
"I have not yet had a chance to search," Sorin replied. "I have sealed the room and will examine it and Alfrey's remains for clues in due course. For now, I must go and speak with the high priest. It is possible he might hear something from the Goddess that I cannot. I recommend we keep this between the three of us until such a time that we either have an answer or revealing it is impossible to avoid. I fear what will happen should people learn of the murder and the horrendous nature of it."
"Yes," Rofell agreed. "Speak with the high priest, then. Keep me informed. Find the murderer and kill him if you must. I grant you full license, High Paladin, to do whatever is necessary."
"Sire," Sorin said with a bow, then turned sharply on his heel and departed. He strode from the castle keep and across a small courtyard to the rear entrance of the royal cathedral. It was nearly as large as the royal castle, meant to accommodate every person in the city as well as the surrounding farmers for several miles around. Although the city and surroundings had long since outgrown the cathedral, it still remained the heart of the faith for those who loved the Goddess.
As Sorin reached the main room, the dawn prayers were just concluding and people were departing quickly in order to get started on their long days. High Priest Angelos was speaking to a small handful of people, but when he caught Sorin's gaze he immediately excused himself.
"High Paladin," he greeted when he reached Sorin's side. "I sensed something was wrong this morning when I rose, but it seemed I was meant to carry on and wait to learn of the problem. I see you are the unhappy messenger."
Sorin only nodded and motioned towards Angelos' office. When the door had shut behind them, he said softly, "Alfrey is dead. Murdered."
"Tell me," Angelos said quietly and sat down behind his desk.
Sorin forced himself to go through the tale once more, relating all from the moment he'd woken to the present. When he finished, Angelos sat white-faced and still, save for the faint trembling of one hand lying across his massive desk.
"I know nothing yet," Sorin continued. "But I will begin searching for answers "
"No," Angelos said. The fingers of his trembling hand lifted to press against the center of his forehead, and his eyes went cloudy, distant, as they always did when he heard Her Voice.