Field of Death: Part IV

Ian had no trouble finding the place; he could hear the angry voices long before he reached the alley running alongside a row of taverns and shops. The crowd was gathered before the doorway to a small building flush against the rear wall of one of the establishments, and two harried members of the Watch were managing to keep the onlookers out by simply bracing themselves in the doorway. Fists were being shaken in the air and a rock flew at the guards.

"That will be the last of that!" Ian roared, starting to force his way through to the door. "There's nothing that can be done by starting a fight. Now get away from here and let us go about our business!" There were a few more shouts, but those quickly faded into muttering as Marcus and the others caught up to Ian. No orders were necessary; Timmons and Marcus simply pointed to a man, then to a spot around the building, and wordlessly a perimeter was created. Satisfied the situation was now under control, Ian went in to look at the body.

A greying man sat over in the corner of one room, silently rocking back and forth on a battered stool, thin hands tightly gripping a ragged cloak about himself. "His name's Nicholas, sir." one of the guards from the door murmured. "The dead man's his brother, Anthone. He's in the other room. It looks like someone did for him while he slept."

"Good work." Ian nodded to the man and made his way into the smaller room. The body, Anthone, lay curled up under a blanket, and the smell of blood grew stronger as Ian approached the bed. He drew back the blanket, then shook his head. Knowing what he'd most likely see didn't make it any easier to look at something like this. Something was clutched in the dead man's hand, and as Ian leaned over he swore loudly.

"What is it, sir?" Marcus had entered and raised a brow at the outburst.

Ian worked the object loose, then turned to show it to his aide. "Another block. This one with the letter A, A for Anthone, so I think we can now say the killer has left them. But why?" He looked back at the body. "Is it a message? Or is it just a macabre calling card?" He handed the block to Marcus. "Hold this, could you?" Then he took a closer look at the body.

"I hope for his sake he was sound asleep when it happened." He lifted the dead man's tunic. "Not just to the throat this time. No sign of a struggle though, and the throat looks to have been done with the same sharp sort of blade that was used on Fionn. Did you question his brother?"

Marcus nodded. "They had barely enough to survive on, so robbery is out as a motive. Anthone had gone out to sell a bunch of fancy buttons to get some coin, for pity's sake. There's no reason for this, m'lord, none at all!"

"Makes you angry, doesn't it? So am I." He covered the body up. "Start the men talking with that bunch out there; somebody has to have noticed a stranger if one were about. Tell Timmons to take a few men and visit the nearer taverns. I want to know what the gossip is about this. Have four men take our poor friend back for the healers to look over. And I'll take that block with me"

"Here it is, sir." Marcus paused. "Did you notice Tuckian out there, sir?"

Ian shook his head. "No. Was he one of the shouters?"

"No. Just watching."

"I'll talk to him later myself, then. I don't think any of the O'Donnells have even the faintest connection with all this, but maybe he saw something that will help."

He walked back out to the first room, and over to the brother. "Nicholas, isn't it? I'm sorry about your brother, Master Nicholas. Is there anyone at all you can think of that would have wanted to harm Anthone like this?"

The man shook his head, his voice on the point of a sob. "None. We were alone, and kept to ourselves. It was only the two of us, only the two, and now Anthone's gone. What will I do now?"

"I'm sorry. Perhaps you should come up to the Hall for a bit? We always need help, and there's a warm room, and good food in it for you. Alright? Tell the Chamberlain that I sent you."

Nicholas nodded, then reached out his hand and grabbed Ian's wrist, his grip surprisingly strong for so delicate a hand. "I need a promise."

"I will find the one who did this, Nicholas, I promise." Ian gently pulled his arm away.

"Not that. Not that!" He looked up at Ian. "Promise me he'll be buried proper, in the churchyard. No Pauper's Field for Anthone! We came from good family once. He shouldn't lie in an unmarked grave!"

"You have my word on it, Nicholas."

"Bless you." Then the old man went back to rocking on his stool. Ian moved away and motioned Marcus over closer.

"See he gets to the Hall. Tell Chamberlain the situation."

Marcus nodded, then Ian walked out of the room into the alley and walked off amid low mutters and angry stares. When he had turned the corner, he took the new block out, turning it over and over again in his hand as he, made his way back towards the Hall. But before he could even reach it, a messenger came riding up and called his name.

"Lord Blackthorn! Sir Evan's compliments, and he asks you join him at the old castle ruins on the West Road."

Ian looked up at the soldier. "Is it the mercenaries? Have they broken through?"

"No, milord. There's a body. A woman's body."

Yelling for Marcus, Ian ran for the stables.