time to see Brandon Rohan hanging from his neck in the center of the room, the chair he’d been standing on kicked over.
She rushed to him, holding him up so the strain on his neck was eased. “You stupid, stupid fool!” she cried. “Damn you to hell! Stop this immediately.”
He’d fought her for a moment, kicking at her imprisoning arms, and then he stopped moving, and she had the horrifying thought that his neck had already been broken. She looked up, tears streaming down her face, to find he was looking down at her, his dark eyes puzzled, the noose loose around his neck.
She reached out with her foot, blindly, catching the edge of the chair and pulling it over. It took her three tries to get it upright, and she set his feet on it, relinquishing her hold as she pulled out the knife she always carried with her. She climbed onto the chair with him, reaching high over his head to cut the rope, and suddenly realized his arms had come around her, and he was looking at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “My harpy,” he whispered.
And then he collapsed.
34
If he rode any other horse but Bucephalus, he would not have made it. He went hell-bent, through uneven roads in the murky darkness, and he cursed the rising of the moon, knowing it only brought disaster closer. But Bucephalus was as sure-footed as ever, with nary a misstep as he raced through the night, so fast that the spring dew had no time to settle on his shoulders.
He pulled up short at the copse where he and Melisande had left the horses the other day, ignoring the stab of fear. It was a good thing his sister and her husband were following, though he could still wish Miranda had stayed at home. He could hardly carry Melisande home on his horse again, much as he’d like to, and there was the young girl, as well. Besides, Miranda could be very comforting to those she wasn’t related to, and annoyed with, and there was a good chance Melisande or the girl would need a woman’s care. But God, he hoped not.
Brandon’s robe fit him well enough. They were of a height, though Benedick was broader in the shoulder, and he considered limping, pretending to be Brandon if anyone should spot him. Ah, but whoever had set his brother up would know perfectly well he wasn’t, and that was the main person he had to beware of. He contented himself with hunching slightly, to disguise his height, and moved through the night like a ghost.
There were perhaps a dozen robed figures wandering the empty paths of Kersley Hall, but to his surprise they weren’t heading toward the entrance in the old dairy. The building was pitch-dark, the doors shut and barred. Instead they were heading toward the stable, in the midst of muffled laughter and drunken conversation pitched too low for him to hear. He had no choice but to follow them, back into the deserted stable where a man held a lantern aloft. Each acolyte who passed him and disappeared into the stall had to suffer torchlight on his face, and Benedick drew back, ducking into one of the darkened stalls. He could hardly expect to gain admittance if he had to show his face. He had no history with this new, more secretive version of the Heavenly Host, and given Brandon’s recent involvement he’d definitely be persona non grata. There were too many people around to stop him if he tried to force his way. At least he could be relatively sure that nothing had happened yet. Whoever the mysterious master was, he would wait for a full audience.
He couldn’t imagine how people could stand by while a child was slaughtered. He recognized Elsmere’s drunken laugh, and his lady-wife’s admonition. They were hardly people he cared to spend time with in the normal run of things, but he couldn’t believe they would be a party to something so hideous. He’d believe everyone was mistaken, but he’d seen the blood on Brandon’s hands, the torn cassock on the floor with its ominous dark stains. No, this was very real.
It seemed as if he waited forever, but in fact it was probably less than ten minutes. The slow stream of robed attendants came to a halt, and when he lifted his head there were no lights coming from outside. Only the guard at the distant stall remained.
He moved