She got out of bed, slipping on her shoes and grabbing her comb to run through her hair to quickly braid.
“Forget the why and how and what. Think on the murders themselves,” she advised herself.
It would take a quick strength to slice a person’s throat, though the warrior would have been the only one who posed a real threat unless surprised. Orvin wasn’t a warrior and would have had no strength to fight and her father certainly had been feeling better but had nowhere near regained his strength. That, once again, pointed to the three men knowing the man who killed them.
“Think, Purity. Think,” she mumbled.
The question came suddenly. Who had been the first to find them dead?
Excited she had a new question that took her to a new path to solving the killings, she hurried out of the room to look for Quiver. A crack of thunder that sounded like it split the earth in two had her stopping when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She shivered and hurried to the Great Hall and stopped upon entering. It was darker than usual, many of the candles unlit and the flames in the hearth low.
The servants always kept the fire burning brightly, especially with the nights having turned colder, and the candles were kept lit until well after supper. Had she slept longer than she had thought?
She hurried to the kitchen, her skin crawling with gooseflesh as the shadows felt as if they reached out to touch her. She was shocked to find it empty. It couldn’t be that late. Someone would have woken her for the evening meal. And where was Quiver, Princess, and King? Quiver wouldn’t leave her alone in the keep… unless something happened.
Quick steps took her to the door in the kitchen and she grabbed a cloak off the peg flinging it around her shoulders before grabbing the latch and giving a yank.
It wouldn’t budge.
She tried again and again.
Something was blocking the latch outside.
She ran back to the Great Hall, mindless of the shadows that flitted as she passed them, and to the door. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the door open. She stepped back from the door and pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, though hoping she was. It would be easier to escape a dream than being locked in the keep. She ran her hand along the door frame to see if something blocked it. Her hand came upon a metal spike that had been partially jammed so the door couldn’t open. She gave a tug at the protruding end and knew it was useless. It would take more strength than she had to remove it.
She rested her head against the door wondering how could she get out and get help.
The answer came suddenly. A window in the solar. If she could reach it, she could get out that way.
A thought froze her.
Someone had done this on purpose to trap her. That meant someone was waiting for her. She wasn’t alone.
She looked around and shivered, the looming shadows reaching out from the corners like long tentacles ready to capture and devour her. She had to get to the solar. She could jam something against the door while she tried to get out the window. She listened to see if she could hear the slightest sound that would give her any indication she was not alone.
Dead silence.
There weren’t even enough flames in the hearth to crackle or spit.
Her heart pounded and her stomach churned and fear began to take hold, almost strangling her. But she couldn’t let anything stop her. She had to stay strong. She had to get to the solar. She took cautious steps, glancing around as she went and after taking only a few steps, she stopped, the corner of her eye catching something. Were the shadows playing tricks on her or did she see something partially under one of the tables?
Ignore it and get to the safety of the solar, she silently warned herself.
But her need to know won out and when she came around the table, she gasped.
Chapter 28
Purity dropped to her knees. Quiver lay on the floor with a gash to the side of his head and Princess lay nearby, a gash on the side of her head as well. She warned herself to remain calm. She feared touching Quiver and Princess and learning they were dead. They had to be alive.
Please, God, let them be alive, she silently prayed.
With apprehension, she reached out and laid a trembling hand on Quiver, checking the throb in his neck as Wren had taught her to, to see if he still lived. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his neck pulse against her touch. She then turned her attention to Princess and laid a hand to her stomach, tears rushing to her eyes when she felt the dog’s heart beat strongly. They both were alive. She thanked the heavens and quickly pulled her cloak off to tear in strips and tend Quiver and Princess’s wounds. She wrapped the wounds to keep them from bleeding more and until she could see to properly tending them later. Her worry was that they might not wake up like some after suffering a severe blow to the head. She prayed that wouldn’t be so.