Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 63

The metallic stench of fresh blood and bile wafted in the cold evening air as the sky darkened to a pitch black overhead. In the back garden, torn out innards lay splattered across the grass in a coiled mess, marring the beauty of the lush rose bushes and stone statues. Crows circled overhead, despite the Royal Guards brandishing their spears around, some even daring to swoop down and fly off with a chunk or two.

At the end of the blood trail, leading from the dungeons deep in the bowels of the palace to the gardens, lay the lifeless body of Dion Edsley, stomach slit open, his insides scattered about.

Shadows of the trees shivered across his pale face, frozen in a scream at the terror of his final moments.

The soldiers stood around the corpse, silent as though frozen by a spell, all except Princess Lysandra who by her royal temper, defied the resistance of the guards and brought the party of soldiers inside the palace premises to the scene of the murder. Her footsteps thundered across the paved garden path as she paced to and fro, still dressed in travel gear.

Behind the gruesome scene, the royal palace of Byton stood towering in all its glory, an imposing structure so breathtaking as to make Migdros jealous. The pale blue flag of Midaelia rippled from the topmost tower. Farren dragged her gaze back to the crude reality--the corpse at her feet.

"One moment. I turn my back for one moment and there's a murder not a hundred paces far from the palace," said princess Lysandra through gritted teeth.

One of the Royal Guards began meekly, eyeing the soldiers. "Your Highness, you shouldn't be allowing these outsiders..."

"Outsiders?" The princess spun to face him with a burning glare, at which the guard reared a step back. "Mind repeating that?"

Needless to say the guard did not dare. She heaved a frustrated sigh. "Now you're worried about outsiders, after the murderer managed to break in, did their job and got away unnoticed."

It seemed to Farren as though the shadows of the trees grew darker, unseen figures lurked in the corners of her eyes, even the rustling of a nesting bird sounded ever so ominous.

She wished Xenro and Captain Walric hadn't parted ways at the steps of the Council and headed for their new base. They were needed here now, more than ever. She did not trust these Royal Guards one bit.

The same thoughts seemed to trouble Lysandra as well, for she crouched beside where Farren knelt beside the corpse and spoke in a hushed tone. "Have those damned Drisians already got their hands on the palace layouts?"

"I doubt it was the Drisians, Your Highness," said Farren. "Or whether this has anything to do with the layout plans."

The princess frowned. "Your meaning, Corporal?"

"Private, now," corrected Farren, gesturing to the corpse. "Guts torn out and scattered about for crows to feast upon--that's how the Guild punishes its assassins who fail to finish a contract, or compromise a client's information."

"Or anyone who double-crosses the Guild," interjected Karles. "Told me the same thing, this poor bastard. And look who's dead now."

"So naught more than the execution of grotesque policies of a gang of murderers, huh?" said Princess Lysandra. "A shame that the esteemed Royal Guard cannot stop mere local thugs barging into the palace."

Linder cast a wary look at the guards. "In all likelihood, they let the murderer in. Sir Troth runs the Silver Knife Square, where the Guild picks up contracts. See what I'm getting at?"

"Aye." Farren remembered the Royal Guard Miveresk, who had once arrived in the Kinallen camp, inquiring after the dagger and left enraged when he did not get what he wanted. "Sir Troth's brother, Dasterian Miveresk, is in the Royal Guard, for one." The more she saw of the Royal Guard, the more she agreed with Lysandra's decision to seek out the company.