Staring at the spot where the king vanquished my only worth in this world, I sit for hours. I sit until the morning light peers through the kitchen window, until my mind is clear from the drink.
I yawn but there's no time for sleep. I must tell my men of the king's directive.
But first, I wash and change my clothes.
Stinking of firewater and from the days of travel are not what I want the people I've worked with for many years to remember on this day. I want to leave them with a clean visage of me.
As I limp outside in a fresh coat, dew collecting on it immediately, I call for May. As always she eventually shows, and with a spring in her gait.
She's glad to see me. I'm glad to see her.
After a welcoming rub of her muzzle and a few playful nudges from her, I take her round to the back and harness her to the carriage. I clamber up to the driver's seat and head off to Lorma's.
Being that it will be the last time, the ride is a somber one. The city's residents are out, going about their day, with many calling out to me.
'Morning, sheriff,' they say as happy as one could be.
I don't correct them. And little do they know about my failed attempt at peace. It's hard to look at them. But look at them I must. And I return their greetings.
With the streets less crowded, the inner city is a welcome sight. And when I sidle up to Lorma's home, I see her and my men waiting with smiles, and all looking eager for positive news.
I ache at the disappointment I'm about to inflict.
Yet, I greet them warmly once my boots touch the ground inside the courtyard. I shake the hands of my men and give Lorma a respectful peck on the cheek.
'Seamil just messaged that you returned,' Lorma says. 'We all felt like waiting for you. We were very anxious.'
'Did he mention anything about the return,' I ask.
'Like what?'
'Oh, nothing,' I reply, thankful he hadn't mentioned our get together inside the gear room.
I don't want Lorma to judge us, to judge me. Many don't like ones that drink their sorrows away.
'How went the meeting with King Jabora?' asks Tready. 'Is there peace in our future?'
It hurts me to answer with words and so I just shake my head. And they react as Seamil did.
After a moment, Tready asks softly, 'What do we do now, sir?'
'Like you always do,' I reply.
My men nod their heads before Jac says, 'We were able to identify the Night Cleaver's last victim.'
'That's a good start,' I croak. Even though I'd rather the situation be a terrible fantasy, I'm delighted. 'And?'
'Remember the woman who came into the keep to report that someone had stolen her corset–'
'It was her?'
'Yes.'
'Shit.' I pause, shaking my head, before saying, 'Anything else found?'
'Sorry, sheriff, that was all we could find so far.'
'So there have been no more attacks since I left?'
'Nothing.'
Relieved, I let out a sigh, but maybe the Night Cleaver wants me around.
'Oh, and the examiner was able to find out the poison that killed the blacksmith,' says Tready. 'He said he was able to analyze the blood. He wrote a letter detailing everything. It's on your desk.'
Not my desk anymore. It's time to tell them.
'More sad news I'm afraid, men,' I say. 'It's with a heavy heart that I tell you this but the king has seen it fit that I no longer be the sheriff.'
Lorma gasps as my men mumble in confusion.
'This cannot be,' says Tready.
'But why?' asks Jac.
I shrug.
'Is it because the meeting with King Jabora didn't go well?'
'It doesn't matter the reason,' I say.
'That–that fool,' stutters Scar. 'How could he do this in the middle of everything?'
'Hey,' I reply sternly to him, 'enough of that.'
'But you'll still be a lawman, yes?' asks Tready.
'My lawman days are over too.'
Everyone is shocked again.
'This is a mistake,' says Lorma.
'It is not,' I reply.
'I must go to the palace and ask His Majesty to reconsider. I'll beg, I'll get on my knees if I have to.'
'You will do no such thing, lordess.'
'Please, Pannor. You are the only one for the sheriff position.'
'There are many able men in this city,' I reply.
'But who?' asks Tready. 'Who will take over?'
'Until the king says otherwise, fills the position, you must do it, Tready,' I say.
Tready straightens himself and nods, yet a look of dread washes over him.
'What will you do, sheriff?' asks Jac.
'It's Pannor from now on,' I reply. 'And just because I'm not sheriff anymore doesn't mean I can't help all of you out with the investigation into the Night Cleaver.'
'We're pleased to hear that,' says Tready.
'Well I just came by to tell you all the news and to leave the carriage. I don't know if May will pull any of you around, or even come if you call for her, but you can try.'
I take a step back, ready to leave when Lorma bursts out, 'Don't leave yet, Pannor. Let me make you breakfast again.'
With just the dregs of firewater in my stomach, it responds with an overwhelming grumble.
'That does it,' she says, 'Let's go.'
While my men stay in the courtyard to stew over the news, Lorma leads me inside and to the kitchen. I take then a seat and watch as Lorma proceeds with her cooking.
The smell of bread and eggs frying in lard soon wafts over from the stove.
'Where did you get the eggs?' I ask. 'I didn't think you had any.'
'I found them in a nest inside a bush in the courtyard,' Lorma replies. 'They're pigeon eggs.'
'I can't say I've had a pigeon egg before.'
Once plated, Lorma brings the food over. 'Now eat.'
I grab a fork, ready to dive in when the deafening noise of plodding hooves thunders into the kitchen through a window.
It sounds like a cavalry charge on a battlefield.
'What in the heavens is that?' bellows Lorma. 'Are we being attacked?'
We both scurry over to the window and peer out. All I see is the king's guards. Not just a dozen but a hundred of them, funnelling into the street below, heading this way.
'Have the walls been breached?' Lorma asks me. 'Are they here to defend the inner city?'
'We would have heard the alarm bells,' I say.
'Could it be Seamil?' Lorma cries. She begins to shake. 'Has something happened to him? Pannor, has something happened to Seamil? Are they here to tell me something's happened to him?'
I'm sure the king wouldn't react by sending out so many of his guards just to inform Lorma if something bad has befallen Seamil.
I'm about to tell her this when she rushes past me and out of the kitchen.
Like always, I do my best to follow yet I get to the entrance hall as Lorma has already gone outside, the front door open a sliver.
'Is Pannor Harg here, lordess?' I hear a guard growl, anger and urgency in his voice, a reason I don't make my presence known.
Have I somehow insulted the king again? I don't feel like another tongue lashing.
'Why?' Lorma answers back. 'What's happened?'
Meanwhile, my men appear around me from all over.
'Sir–' Tready starts to speak but I put a finger to my mouth, silencing him.
'What's happened?' Lorma asks again.
'There's been a murder, lordess,' the guard answers.
'A murder?'
My heart skips as Lorma cries, 'Is it Seamil?'
'It's not the commander.'
Could it be the king?
But it's not. And the next words the guard speaks takes me by surprise.
'It's Sir Blouf. He was found this morning butchered to death at his residence.'
The words rattle me with utmost shock.
'And what has this to do with Pannor Harg?' Lorma asks with a stupor.
Yes, I'd like to know that too. And I'm ready to join Lorma outside when I hear, 'He has been accused of the heinous crime and has been sentenced to death by the king. We are here to carry out His Majesty's wishes.'
Along with my men, I am deaden, unable to move, to speak.
'What utter lunacy,' Lorma stutters. 'This is absurd. Preposterous.'
'There is evidence, lordess.'
'What evidence? I demand you tell me.'
'Pannor Harg's sword was found at the scene. It was the weapon that brought Sir Blouf's brutal demise.'
My sword? But I have my sword on me.
I open my coat, look down, and as if I've just been hit by the enemy's newest weapon again, my eyes widen at what I see.
My sword isn't there.
But how is this possible? I'm sure I had it on me when I left home. Didn't I? Is my mind playing tricks with me? Is it still befuddled by the drink?
My attention drifts back as I hear the guard ask again, 'Is Pannor Harg here, lordess?'
Sternly, and to my surprise, Lorma replies, 'He's not.'
My men don't give me up either but they look at me with suspicion. It's slight but it's there.
'Do you have any idea of his whereabouts?' the guard asks. He sounds more forceful now.
'His home, perhaps?'
'Other than that?'
'I'm sorry, I cannot think of anywhere.'
'Thank you, lordess, for your time. We'll be on our way. And if he shows, please send a message to the royal guards' barracks.'
The dying sounds of beating hooves brings Lorma inside and she's straight to asking me, clearly knowing I was listening, 'Pannor, please forgive me, but did you have any involvement with Sir Blouf's murder?'
I'm not offended. Not in the least. It's a good question. A lawman's question.
'I promise,' I say, 'I had no involvement.'
'How is it that they found your sword?' asks Tready.
I turn to him. 'Someone must have planted it there.'
'You're telling me someone has set you up?'
'It is the only reason.'
'But why?'
'Someone clearly wants me out of the way for whatever purpose.'
Being that it can't be Sir Blouf anymore, is it the one plotting with the enemy?
I continue, 'I need to see the crime scene. I need to clear my name.'
'We'll do it, sir,' says Tready. 'You need to go into hiding.'
'You can hide here, Pannor,' says Lorma.
I shake my head. 'The king's guards will come back and may turn the place down. I need to go somewhere else.'
I know where. To Trin. She'll take me in. I hope. And maybe she witnessed the murder.
'I have a place in mind but thank you, lordess,' I reply. ' And thank you, and everyone else, for not turning me in. Now, I should be going.'
'You can't, sir,' sprouts Jac. 'It's daytime. Someone will see you.'
'You're right. I will wait here until night falls.' I then ask, looking from Tready to Lorma, 'May I use the study to write some letters?'
'Of course,' replies Lorma.
'You don't need to ask,' replies Tready. 'Everything that is bestowed on us is at your disposal, sir.'
The others nod in agreement.
'Thank you,' I reply.
'And we'll start getting to the bottom of this, sir,' says Jac.
To the study I hobble, the pain in my leg as agonizing as it has ever been. And still disoriented by the news, I step inside, light a candle on the desk and close all the blinds.
I don't want anyone to spy me from the outside.
Back at the desk, I sit down and pull out two pieces of parchment and a quill.
I must warn Trin about what happened and ask if she will harbor me. Seamil should know about this too. Maybe he can help. Maybe he can gather information my men will not be privy to.
I dip the quill into the sooty ink, ready to write, when I see the letter the examiner sent me.
Curious, I set the quill down and grab it, unfolding the thin bark of the ruby birch tree. I glance down and try desperately to decipher the handwriting.
And there it is. Ellhdoow, the poison that killed Able.
Why does the name look familiar?