Chapter Nine
Upon hearing that her guard had roused from his knocked-out state, Elspeth charged out of the study at a staggering speed. Cyrus arose from his chair and followed her upstairs to Stillman's chamber. With its blue brocade draperies and large carved walnut four-poster bed, this room was not one that a guard would normally occupy.
Cyrus halted just inside the doorway as Mistress Almsly—a squat woman with silver hair—and the young maid exited. Stillman still lay abed, on his back, his eyes closed. A swollen, bloody lump marred his almost bald pate. The man had been clouted on thesideof the head, not the front or back. That made the situation even more mysterious, for his attacker could've been either in front of him, behind him, or beside him.
Hoping the man would remember something, Cyrus moved to one side of the bed, while Elspeth circled to the other side and sat on the straight wooden chair. She gently took the guard's beefy hand into hers, making Cyrus wonder darkly whether their relationship was more than employer-employee.
The barb of annoyance at this potential arrangement stunned him. Why the devil should he care if she dallied with her guard?
"How are you feeling, Stillman?" she asked. "I've been deeply troubled over the assault."
The guard turned his head slightly toward her and opened his eyes. "M'lady, my head pains me greatly," he murmured low.
"What happened? Who hit you on the head?"
He closed his eyes and frowned. "I only recall someone was banging and trying to get in the postern gate in the wee hours of the morn. 'Twas dark as pitch out, but I had my lantern. Someone outside the gate had a torch, but I couldn't see the face. He wore a broad-brimmed hat which cast his face into the shadows. I don't ken if 'twas one man or several."
"Were my other guards with you?"
"Aye, a couple of them followed me when I awoke them and alerted them to a commotion at the gate."
That was different from what Morrison had told him, Cyrus realized. But then Morrison had only been guessing, for he hadn't been out there. Regardless, those two guards had withheld this information from Morrison.
"Which ones?" she asked.
"Ballantyne and Parker."
"And then what happened?"
The man grimaced. "I… I don't remember anything after I drew near to the gate."
Elspeth's brow furrowed. "Do you remember being hit?"
"Nay."
"Could either Ballantyne or Parker have struck you?"
Stillman's eyes widened. "Your own guards, m'lady! Why would they?"
"I know not as of yet."
"They could have, I suppose. Or someone outside the gate might have had a long stick or pike which they shoved between the bars and clobbered me with that. I wish I could remember. They didn't enter, did they? Surely the other guards stopped them."
She sat back and pressed her lips tight, remaining silent.
"Did they get in, m'lady?" Stillman persisted.
She nodded. "They did. And they stole some things, but please don't worry over it. 'Twas not your fault."
"Saints! Were the other guards killed?"
"I know not. They disappeared."
Stillman blinked rapidly. "What do you mean?"
"They're no longer here. They're gone. Vanished."
The guard scowled. "Forgive me, m'lady, but that makes no sense."
