Tales of Downfall and Rebirth by S. M. Stirling Read Free Book Online

double-knife block.”
    She mimed it, putting her palms together like the Christian gesture of prayer and then turning both hands up and out, blocking with the bladed edges of her palms.
    â€œShe ran her forehead right into my nose. And then I couldn’t see anything for a second, because my eyes teared up, and besides it was very dark when that gaslamp went out.”
    Most of those present nodded automatically. If you got a hard smack on the nose your eyes ran; that was uncontrollable reflex.
    â€œThe impact knocked me backward against the table.”
    The furniture was plain but very sturdy, heavy planks spiked to thick uprights.
    â€œI could feel her falling; she grabbed at me and then gave a sort of jerk and fell away. Then the lamp came on. And she had my dagger in her back.”
    â€œYou—” Tom Dayton began surging to his feet.
    â€œShut up,” Terwen said without looking around, frowning.
    â€œYou can’t talk to me that way! My father—”
    â€œIs a tenured member of the Economics Faculty,” the police chief said. “Words can’t express how much I don’t care, sonny. Do you think I mind if they retire me a year early?”
    He frowned again, looking at the dagger which was the only hard evidence.
    And he as much as said he discounts nearly everything
except
hard evidence,
Órlaith thought
. Wait a minute, he said that if you’re
innocent
you should rely on the circumstances. Think, woman, think the way you would if you’d just walked in on this and didn’t know anybody and hadn’t heard the names. Think the way you would if you were out hunting and looking for sign.
    She breathed deeply and cleared her mind; there was a trick to that. Mackenzie priestesses had taught her, and the monks of the Noble Eightfold Path at Chenrezi Monastery over the mountains when she and her parents stayed there on a State visit. Breathe, imagine a pool of calm water, close your eyes, let the breath out and all emotion with it. No attachment, be pure floating consciousness.
    They came open and she looked at the body as it
was
, without the overlay of speculation and her mind talking to itself.
    Heuradys took a deep breath of her own. Órlaith
knew
she was about to do something—probably to confess, to get her liege out of the hot water. She thought desperately, and then . . .
    â€œSilent Sentry Removal!” she burst out.
    Everyone looked at her. She went on hurriedly: “My aunt Ritva was giving us lessons. We were visiting her down at Stath Ingolf, in the new settlements in Westria.”
    A stath was what the Dúnedain Rangers called their steadings, and the Rangers did special operations in wartime. Her aunts Ritva and Mary had been legends at it in the Prophet’s War; they’d gone with her father on the Quest to Nantucket, too.
    â€œWe asked her why she said she’d always used a garrote and not a knife, and she explained how difficult it is to stab someone in the heart from behind, not just the ribs, but the angles reaching across your body because the heart is on the left. And if you just cut their throats, it’s loud and messy. The kidney is better—”
    About a third of the hearers nodded unconsciously at that, too.
    â€œâ€”but still not quiet unless you can control the mouth or throat too, and if you can do that you might as well strangle them.”
    Heuradys had been white-faced and focused within herself. Now she looked around at Órlaith, her mind visibly starting to work again.
    â€œYes?” Terwen said politely.
    He’s not a warrior,
Órlaith thought.
But he’s probably seen a lot of dead bodies, sure and he has.
    â€œYou ken . . .” she said, and mimed drawing a dagger.
    Then she slowly played out the ways you could stab someone in the heart from behind. The ones who knew what she was talking about looked on with keen interest. All the methods required the point