Masters of Fantasy Part 17

"You are under arrest for murder," said the commander.

"Murder?" Shadamehr was understandably confused. "We have murdered no one. We are newly arrived in town. We are friends of Brother Ulien. We were with him last night. You can ask him-"

Shadamehr's voice faltered and faded. For the first time in the months she had known him, Alise saw

Shadamehr shaken.

The commander was eyeing him grimly. "So you admit it. You were with him last night. The last to be with him last night, it seems. He was found dead in his bed this morning. An empty vial, a vial that

matches those vials"-he pointed to Alise's belt, now in the hands of a guard-"was by his bed. Proof enough that an earth mage was there."

"He did not die of what was in the vial, though, did he?" Alise asked.

The commander sneered. "You know well enough how he died, witch."

"Yes, I think I do. He died of a single, small stab wound to the heart," Alise said. "If you will look at the

weapons we carry, you will find none that could have caused such a wound."

Shadamehr was silent, probably berating himself for having left his friend to die.

"Such a weapon is easily discarded," the commander replied scornfully. "And I have a witness."

"Of course, you do," Shadamehr murmured.

The commander rested his hand on the hilt of his jeweled sword. "A dwarf. We found him with the

body, so at first we figured he was the killer. But then he told us he saw you two leaving the house and heard you speaking of the murder you had just committed."

"And so we were," said Shadamehr. "My companion and I were shouting it to the rooftops. We wanted

everyone in town to know that we had murdered a man. I take that back. In fact, we were singing. My

companion has a lovely soprano voice and I-"

"Shut him up," the commander growled. "It doesn't much matter who killed the brother. Maybe you and the dwarf are in it together. We have him in jail, as well. I'll have the truth eventually. I enjoy questioning people."

Grinning, the commander made a jerking motion with his thumb. The guard holding Shadamehr gave

him a clout on the head that reopened the wound over his eyebrow, started the blood flowing.

"And so, my lord," Alise said in an undertone, as the guards marched them off, "we have just been arrested for murder by the murderer. How are we going to get out of this one?"

"I got us out of the last one, my dear," Shadamehr said, grinning through a mask of blood. "Now it's your turn."

* * * The prison cellblock was located beneath the military command post, a ma.s.sive stone structure surrounded by high walls, containing a barracks, stables, a headquarters building, and a parade grounds. Lit by torches that sputtered in iron sconces, the underground jail also housed the "interrogation rooms" replete with various instruments of torture and, next door, the morgue.

"How convenient," said Shadamehr.

The body of Brother Ulien lay on a stone slab inside the small, cold room. The corpse had not been attended yet. He was still wearing the brown robes in which he had died. There was little blood, Alise noted with professional interest. A wound such as the one Shadamehr had described-small, penetrating straight to the heart-might not bleed much. The skin of Ulien's face was grayish white, the lips and

nails of the hands starting to turn blue. The eyes were open wide. The face was hideously twisted into an expression of extreme terror.

"Stop!" Shadamehr ordered, as he was being marched past the morgue.

Such was Shadamehr's presence that the guards halted at his command. He shook off the guards and

stood looking intently at the body of his friend.

"I am sorry, Ulien," Shadamehr said quietly. "This is my fault. Forgive me. Very well, gentlemen," he added magnanimously, "you may proceed."

Realizing that they had just obeyed an order given to them by their prisoner, the guards looked guiltily to

see whether the commander had noticed, then quickly seized hold of Shadamehr and hustled him off.

The cells were located along opposite sides of a long, dark and narrow corridor. Large iron keys hung

from hooks on the wall. The commander lifted a set of keys in pa.s.sing and took down a torch to light their way.

"To the cell at the end of the hall," he ordered.

A peasant was in the corridor, cleaning the floor with a large broom, sweeping a pile of foul-smelling

straw out of one of the cells. The stench was horrible.

The other prison cells appeared to be empty. The prison was eerily quiet. The only sound Alise could hear was that of running water. She was wondering what this might be when the floor suddenly dropped out from under her.

Alise cried out in alarm. Off-balance, she wavered on the edge of a gaping chasm, terrified that she would fall. Her guards let her teeter one heart-stopping moment, then hauled her back to safety, laughing at her fear. Below her, a rushing stream ran black and turgid. A sewer, to judge by the smell. The peasant plodded past her, swept his load of muck into the hole. Tugging on a rope that hung from the ceiling, a rope attached to what Alise now saw was a wooden door set in the floor, he pulled the door closed.

"There are grates at either end," the commander announced. "Just in case you were thinking that this

might make a good escape route."

The guards pushed Alise forward. Her footsteps echoed hollowly as she walked across the wooden door.

She pa.s.sed the cell occupied by the dwarf, who was dark-eyed and dour, unkempt, disheveled and dirty.

He was shackled hand and foot, the manacles attached to the stone wall and he glowered as they pa.s.sed him. In response to Shadamehr's polite greeting in dwarven, the dwarf made a rude gesture with a manacled hand.

The guards hauled Alise and Shadamehr into the same cell, stood them against a wall and clamped manacles over their wrists and ankles. The commander looked on with approval as the guards locked the manacles in place with the keys, which they then returned to the commander. He slammed shut the iron barred door of the cell and locked it.

"I demand-" Shadamehr began, but he was talking to himself. The commander had left, taking the

torch with him.

The cell was pitch dark. Alise could not see Shadamehr at all, though he was chained only a few feet from her.

"Shadamehr?" she said softly, needing to hear his voice.

"Here," he replied. He was silent a moment, then said quietly, "Did you see Brother Ulien's face, Alise?"

"Yes, I saw." Alise decided it would be best to handle this dispa.s.sionately. Shadamehr would not

appreciate maudlin sympathy. "His expression fits the description of a vrykyl's victims. Don't blame yourself, my lord. There is nothing you could have done. You yourself said that you could not fight a vrykyl."

"Especially not chained to a wall." His voice in the darkness was bitter. He shook his manacles in

frustration.

"I've never known you defeated before," she said. Her hands were manacled to the wall attached by a short length of chain on either side of her head. She twisted her head experimentally to see whether she could reach her thick coil of hair. "I find it rather endearing."

"Yes, well, I hope you find it so when the vrykyl comes. What are you doing?" He could not see her, but

he could hear her chains rattling in the darkness.

"You told me it was my turn to get us out of a situation," she said, her hands busy. "I have a vial of earth hidden in my braid. Do you have your lockpick?"

"I did bring you for your red hair, after all!" Shadamehr stated. "Yes, I have lockpick, but I can't reach it."

"I believe I can remedy that."

Her searching fingers discovered the small vial she habitually kept tucked into the thick coil of red hair for just such an emergency.

"Now, pray I don't drop it," she muttered.

"I'm praying," said Shadamehr fervently.

Alise forced herself to make each movement deliberate. Moving slowly and carefully, she pried loose