Page 16 of The Freedom You Seek

“I won’t. You can apologize to him when we get you out of here. Oh shit—” Rewi cursed as footsteps echoed in the distance. “Oh gods, I think the guards have noticed that someone is down here. Listen, Naya. Don’t panic, please. I’ll do everything I can for you. I promise.”

“Thank you,” I said with a sorrowful voice. “And now run, Rewi.”

I could only watch my friend rushing out, hoping she wouldn’t do anything to endanger herself. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I prayed to all the gods I knew of, pleading with them to make sure I wouldn’t be convicted to death.

Sleep never came to me that night.

Credenta hada lotof small alleys. Antas and I had hurried to follow the guards, but we’d lost them in the maze of cobblestone and narrow pathways.

I hated when something didn’t work out as I’d planned it, and I scowled. I was ready to call this whole thing off when we passed a building guarded by the uniformed moron who had earlier barreled into me.

The puny guard could consider himself lucky that I restrained myself instead of showing him how much I despised being bothered by his likes.

I pulled Antas into a dark corner to observe. Not that I felt something special or afeeling of rightness, but I was intrigued. “There’s a strong scent of blood in the air.”

“Yes, I can smell it too.” Antas nodded, and I turned my attention back to the building.

It took almost half an hour for two men with a horse-drawn hearse to drive around the corner, and when the vehicle stopped in front of the building, I made a sign to my uncle before sneaking closer. I avoided well-lit spaces and instead stayed close to the shadows. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed my companion sneaking toward the hearse before slipping into the back of the cart. Smart.

To my surprise—and after some searching—I found an unguarded backdoor. It was easy to miss as the wood was overgrown with lush ivy, hiding half of the small doorway. The entryway was closed but not locked, and I cracked the door open to observe.

The two men had entered the building, which turned out to be a small, desolate stable with a few empty stalls. The smell inside here was vile, and it would take me some time to get the stench out of my nose.

I forced myself to keep my attention on what I was seeing and hearing instead of being distracted by the awful smell of piss and shit mixed with blood that assaulted my senses. Although I was accustomed to soldiers and their many odors, my sensitive nose didn’t allow me to ignore such a horrid stench.

I didn’t take my eyes off the two undertakers once I spotted them. Both bent over an obviously very dead man, who was the source of the smell of blood hanging heavily in the air. My view was somewhat obstructed, but claiming a better vantage point came with too many risks, and it was unnecessary, as Antas would be close to the corpse soon enough. I didn’t envy him at all.

I waited until the undertakers had wrapped the dead man into a cloth sheet and carried him out. The guards trotted around the stable listlessly, and I didn’t get the impression that they were making too much effort in their search for clues. Their hushed discussion centered on the fact that they refused to clean up the mess, and I was about to leave when their conversation changed to something more substantial.

“Could you have imagined that the young Ortha woman would have it in her to murder someone in cold blood? She was always so nice and polite.”

“It’s always the ones who seem innocuous, you know that.”

So, the guards were certain a murder had happened here, by whoever this Ortha woman was. My curiosity reared its ugly head, but I had to wait a few more minutes for the guards to leave. It was only when I heard the stable door close that I double-checked if I was alone, and when I was sure that everyone had left, I sneaked into the vacant stall.

The hay where the corpse had been lying was soaked with half-dried blood. All indicated that the victim had died from a deep cut to a major artery—the neck, if I had to guess.

I kept on investigating some more, but when I couldn’t find any other clues, I left the building in the same way I’d entered it while I was pondering. It was peculiar how this town’s law enforcement treated a murder case like a side note—and I couldn’t help but grow suspicious.

Later that night, I met with Antas, Fig, Thain, and Ireas in one of the many dingy taverns around town and listened as Antas reported to the others what we’d discovered today.

He also mentioned that he was absolutely sure Credenta was where we were supposed to be for the time being.When he told them about how he was convinced I was the key to solving the mystery that had kept us busy for months, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I wasn’t used to feeling insecure, and I hated him for making me. It was time to change the topic before the others could ask unpleasant questions I had no answers for.

“We followed some guards earlier. Seems a murder happened in town today,” I said. “And before you ask—no, it wasn’t me.” Quickly, I recapped what I’d witnessed and overheard in the stable.

“What did you find out, Antas?”

“Two things. First, I was able to get a good look at the corpse. A young man, well-dressed, with several stab wounds. One of them ruptured his carotid artery, and he bled out in minutes.”

There wasn’t much emotion in Antas’ voice, and his expression told me he thought the dead man deserved his fate.

“Second, I listened to the undertakers and caught a glimpse at a case file. Our dead man was the son of quite an important merchant. There’s no part of Ivreia that hasn’t heard of the father. He has his fingers in everything trade-related, and over time, he established the nickname King of Merchants for himself. Real name is Perran Feroy. His dead son was called Jelric, and his murderer was his betrothed, who killed him with his own dagger. According to the undertakers, the woman in question was naked, and I saw the dead man had his pants down when they brought him into the hearse. They didn’t even cover him up or treat his corpse with much respect. Think of it what you want.”

“Rape.”

“My assumption as well.”

I glued my eyes to a spot on the table and growled. Undoubtedly, the man had brought his fate upon himself. All of us had done some despicable crimes in the past, but rape? There was nothing more repulsive, in my opinion.