Blood Song

I sifted through the pages, my quill picking out those passages where I suspected he had been less than forthcoming. To my dismay I found there were more than I would have liked, even a few contradictions. "You said you never met her again,” I said. “Yet you say Princess Lyrna was present at the Summertide Fair where Janus embroiled you his war mongering scheme.”

He sighed, not turning. “We exchanged a cursory greeting only. I didn’t think it worth mentioning.”

A dim memory came to me, a fragment from my own researches undertaken whilst preparing my history of the war. “What about the mason?”

It was only the briefest hesitation but it told me a great deal. “Mason?”

“The mason at Linesh you befriended. His house was set alight because of it. It was a well known story when I researched your occupation of the city. Yet you make no mention of him.”

He rolled onto his back and shrugged. “Hardly a friendship. I wanted him to carve a statue of Janus for the town square. Something to confirm his ownership of the city. Needless to say the mason refused. Didn’t stop someone burning his house down though. I believe he and his wife left the city when the war ended, with good reason it seems.”

“And the sister of your faith who stopped the red plague from ravaging the city,” I pressed, angrier now. “What of her? The city folk I interviewed told many tales of her kindness and her closeness to you. Some even thought you were lovers.”

He shook his head wearily. “That is absurd. As for what became of her, I assumed she returned to the Realm with the army.”

He was lying, I was sure of it. “Why relate this tale if you have no intention of telling me all of it?” I demanded. “Do you seek to make me a fool, Hope Killer?”

Al Sorna grunted a laugh. “A fool is any man who doesn’t think he’s a fool. Let me sleep, my lord.”