The Book of Athyra Page 3

  The first two stops (the livery stable for the feed supplements, and the yarner for fresh bolts of linen) went as usual—they bought the feed supplements and didn’t buy any linen, although Savn fingered a yarn-dyed pattern of sharply angled red and white lines against a dark green fabric, while Mae and Pae chatted with Threader about how His Lordship was staying in his manor house near Smallcliff, and Polyi looked bored. Savn knew without asking that the fabric would be too expensive to buy, and after a while they left, Mae complimenting Threader on the linen and saying they’d maybe buy something if His Lordship left them enough of the harvest.

  They skipped the ceramics shop, which they often did, though as usual they drove by; Savn wasn’t sure if it was from habit or just to wave at Pots, and he never thought to ask. By the time they pulled away from Hider’s place, where they got a piece of leather for Gleena’s girth-strap, which was wearing out, it was past the third hour after noon and they were in sight of both the dry goods store and Tem’s house.

  There was a large crowd outside Tem’s.

  Mae, who was driving, stopped the cart and frowned. “Should we see what it is?”

  “They seem to be gathered around a cart,” said Pae.

  Mae stared for a moment longer, then clicked the team closer.

  “There’s Master Wag,” said Polyi, glancing at Savn as if he would be able to provide an explanation.

  They got a little closer, finally stopping some twenty feet down the narrow street from the crowd and the cart. Savn and Polyi stood up and craned their necks.

  “It’s a dead man,” said Savn in an awed whisper.

  “He’s right,” said Pae.

  “Come along,” said Mae. “We don’t need to be here.”

  “But, Mae—” said Polyi.

  “Hush now,” said Pae. “Your mother is right. There’s nothing we can do for the poor fellow, anyway.”

  Polyi said, “Don’t you want to know—”

  “We’ll hear everything later, no doubt,” said Mae. “More than we want to or need to, I’m sure. Now we need to pick up some nails.”

  As they began to move, Master Wag’s eyes fell on them like a lance. “Wait a moment, Mae,” said Savn. “Master Wag—”

  “I see him,” said his mother, frowning. “He wants you to go to him.” She didn’t sound happy.

  Savn, for his part, felt both excited and nervous to suddenly discover himself the center of attention of everyone gathered in the street, which seemed to be nearly everyone who lived nearby.

  Master Wag did not, however, leave him time to feel much of anything. His deeply lined face was even more grim than usual, and his protruding jaw was clenching at regular intervals, which Savn had learned meant that he was concentrating. The Master said, “It is time you learned how to examine the remains of a dead man. Come along.”

  Savn swallowed and followed him to the horse-cart, with a roan gelding still standing patiently nearby, as if unaware that anything was wrong. On the wagon’s bed was a body, on its back as if lying down to take a rest, head toward the back. The knees were bent quite naturally, both palms were open and facing up, the head—

  “I know him!” said Savn. “It’s Reins!”

  Master Wag grunted as if to say, “I know that already.” Then he said, “Among the sadder duties which befall us is the necessity to determine how someone came to die. We must discover this to learn, first, if he died by some disease that could be spread to others, and second, if he was killed by some person or animal against whom we must alert the people. Now, tell me what you see.”

  Before Savn could answer, however, the Master turned to the crowd and said, “Stand back, all of you! We have work to do here. Either go about your business, or stay well back. We’ll tell you what we find.”

  One of the more interesting things about Master Wag was how his grating manner would instantly transform when he was in the presence of a patient. The corpse evidently did not qualify as a patient, however, and the Master scowled at those assembled around the wagon until they had all backed off several feet. Savn took a deep breath, proud that Master Wag had said, “We,” and he had to fight down the urge to rub his hands together as if it were actually he who had “work to do.” He hoped Firi was watching.

  “Now, Savn,” said the Master. “Tell me what you see.”

  “Well, I see Reins. I mean, his body.”

  “You aren’t looking at him. Try again.”

  Savn became conscious once more that he was being watched, and he tried to ignore the feeling, with some success. He looked carefully at the way the hands lay, palms up, and the position of the feet and legs, sticking out at funny angles. No one would lie down like that on purpose. Both knees were slightly bent, and—

  “You aren’t looking at his face,” said Master Wag. Savn gulped. He hadn’t wanted to look at the face. The Master continued, “Look at the face first, always. What do you see?”

  Savn made himself look. The eyes were lightly closed, and the mouth was set in a straight line. He said, “It just looks like Reins, Master.”

  “And what does that tell you?”

  Savn tried to think, and at last he ventured, “That he died in his sleep?”

  The Master grunted. “No, but that was a better guess than many you could have made. We don’t know yet that he died in his sleep, although that is possible, but we know two important things. One is that he was not surprised by death, or else that he was so surprised he had no time to register shock, and, two, that he did not die in pain.”

  “Oh. Yes, I see.”

  “Good. What else?”

  Savn looked again, and said, hesitantly, “There is blood by the back of his head.”

  “How much?”

  “Very little.”

  “And how much do head wounds bleed?”

  “A lot.”

  “So, what can you tell?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “Think! When will a head wound fail to bleed?”

  “When . . . oh. He was dead before he hurt his head?”

  “Exactly. Very good. And do you see blood anywhere else?”

  “Ummm . . . no.”

  “Therefore?”

  “He died, then fell backward, cutting open his head on the bottom of the cart, so very little blood escaped.”

  The Master grunted. “Not bad, but not quite right, either. Look at the bottom of the cart. Touch it.” Savn did so. “Well?”

  “It’s wood.”

  “What kind of wood?”

  Savn studied it and felt stupid. “I can’t tell, Master. A fir tree of some kind.”

  “Is it hard or soft?”

  “Oh, it’s very soft.”

  “Therefore he must have struck it quite hard in order to cut his head open, yes?”

  “Oh, that’s true. But how?”

  “How indeed? I have been informed that the horse came into town at a walk, with the body exactly as you see it. One explanation that would account for the facts would be if he were driving along, and he died suddenly, and, at the same time or shortly thereafter, the horse was startled, throwing the already dead body into the back, where it would fall just as you see it, and with enough force to break the skin over the skull, and perhaps the skull as well. If that were the case, what would you expect to see?”

  Savn was actually beginning to enjoy this—to see it as a puzzle, rather than as the body of someone he had once known. He said, “A depression in the skull, and a matching one on the cart beneath his head.”

  “He would have had to hit very hard indeed to make a depression in the wood. But, yes, there should be one on the back of his head. And what else?”

  “What else?”

  “Yes. Think. Picture the scene as it may have happened.”

  Savn felt his eyes widen. “Oh!” He looked at the horse. “Yes,” he said. “He has run hard.”

  “Excellent!” said the Master, smiling for the first time. “Now we can use our knowledge of Reins. What did
he do?”

  “Well, he used to be a driver, but since he left town I don’t know.”

  “That is sufficient. Would Reins ever have driven a horse into a sweat?”

  “Oh, no! Not unless he was desperate.”

  “Correct. So either he was in some great trouble, or he was not driving the horse. You will note that this fits well with our theory that death came to him suddenly and also frightened the horse. Now, there is not enough evidence to conclude that we are correct, but it is worthwhile to make our version a tentative assumption while we look for more information.”

  “I understand, Master.”

  “I see that you do. Excellent. Now touch the body.”

  “Touch it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Master . . .”

  “Do it!”

  Savn swallowed, reached out and laid his hand lightly on the arm nearest him, then drew back. Master Wag snorted. “Touch the skin.”

  He touched Reins’s hand with his forefinger, then pulled away as if burned. “It’s cold!” he said.

  “Yes, bodies cool when dead. It would have been remarkable if it were not cold.”

  “But then—”

  “Touch it again.”

  Savn did so. It was easier the second time. He said, “It is very hard.”

  “Yes. This condition lasts several hours, then gradually fades away. In this heat we may say that he has been dead at least four or five hours, yet not more than half a day, unless he died from the Cold Fever, which would leave him in such a condition for much longer. If that had been the cause of death, however, his features would exhibit signs of the discomfort he felt before his death. Now, let us move him.”

  “Move him? How?”

  “Let’s see his back.”

  “All right.” Savn found that bile rose in his throat as he took a grip on the body and turned it over.

  “As we suspected,” said the Master. “There is the small bloodstain on the wood, and no depression, and you see the blood on the back of his head.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “The next step is to bring him back home, where we may examine him thoroughly. We must look for marks and abrasions on his body; we must test for sorcery, we must look at the contents of his stomach, his bowels, his kidneys, and his bladder; and test for diseases and poisons; and—” He stopped, looking at Savn closely, then smiled. “Never mind,” he said. “I see that your Maener and Paener are still waiting for you. This will be sufficient for a lesson; we will give you some time to become used to the idea before it comes up again.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “Go on, go on. Tomorrow I will tell you what I learned. Or, rather, how I learned it. You will hear everything there is to hear tonight, no doubt, when you return to Tem’s house, because the gossips will be full of the news. Oh, and clean your hands carefully and fully with dirt, and then water, for you have touched death, and death calls to his own.”

  This last remark was enough to bring back all the revulsion that Savn had first felt when laying hands on the corpse. He went down in the road and wiped his hands thoroughly and completely, including his forearms, and then went into Tem’s house and begged water to wash them with.

  When he emerged, he made his way slowly through the crowd that still stood around the wagon, but he was no longer the object of attention. He noticed Speaker standing a little bit away, frowning, and not far away was Lova, who Savn knew was Firi’s friend, but he didn’t see Firi. He returned to his own wagon while behind him Master Wag called for someone to drive him and the body back to his home.

  “What is it?” asked Polyi as he climbed up next to her, among the supplies. “I mean, I know it’s a body, but—”

  “Hush,” said Maener, and shook the reins.

  Savn didn’t say anything; he just watched the scene until they went around a corner and it was lost to sight. Polyi kept pestering him in spite of sharp words from Mae and Pae until they threatened to stop the wagon and thrash her, after which she went into a sulk.

  “Never mind,” said Pae. “We’ll find out all about it soon enough, I’m sure, and you shouldn’t ask your brother to talk about his art.”

  Polyi didn’t answer. Savn, for his part, understood her curiosity; he was wondering himself what Master Wag would discover, and it annoyed him that everyone in town would probably know before he did.

  The rest of the errands took nearly four hours, during which time they learned nothing new, but were told several times that “Reins’s body come into town from Wayfield.” By the time the errands were over, Savn and Polyi were not only going mad with curiosity, but were certain they were dying of hunger as well. The cart had vanished from the street, but judging by the wagons in front and the loud voices from within, everyone for miles in any direction had heard that Reins had been brought into town, dead, and they were all curious about it, and had accordingly come to Tem’s house to talk, listen, speculate, eat, drink, or engage in all of these at once.

  The divisions were there, as always: most of the people were grouped in families, taking up the front half of the room, and beyond them were some of the apprenticed girls, and the apprenticed boys, and the old people were along the back. The only difference was that Savn had rarely, if ever, seen the place so full, even when Avin the Bard had come through. They would have found no place to sit had they not been seen at once by Haysmith, whose youngest daughter Pae had saved from wolves during the flood-year a generation ago. The two men never mentioned the incident because it would have been embarrassing to them both, but Haysmith was always looking out for Pae in order to perform small services for him. In this case, he caused a general shuffling on one of the benches, and room was made for Mae, Pae, and Polyi, where it looked as if there was no room to be found.

  Savn stayed with them long enough to be included in the meal that Mae, with help from Haysmith’s powerful lungs, ordered from Tem. Pae and Haysmith were speculating on whether some new disease had shown up, which launched them into a conversation about an epidemic that had cost a neighbor a son and a daughter many years before Savn had been born. When the food arrived, Savn took his ale, salad, and bread, and slipped away.

  Across the room, he found his friend Coral, who was apprenticed to Master Wicker. Coral managed to make room for one more, and Savn sat down.

  “I wondered when you’d arrive,” said Coral. “Have you heard?”

  “I haven’t heard what Master Wag said about how he died.”

  “But you know who it was?”

  “I was there while the Master was; he made it a lesson.” Savn swallowed the saliva that had suddenly built up in his mouth. “It was Reins,” he said, “who used to make deliveries from the Sharehouse.”

  “Right.”

  “I know he left town years ago, but I don’t know where he went.”

  “He just went away somewhere. He came into some money or something.”

  “Oh, did he? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “Well, it doesn’t do him any good now.”

  “I guess not. What killed him?”

  Coral shrugged. “No one knows. There wasn’t a mark on him, they say.”

  “And the Master doesn’t know, either? He was just going to look over the body when I had to go.”

  “No, he came in an hour ago and spoke with Tem, said he was as confused as anyone.”

  “Is he still here?” asked Savn, looking around.

  “No, I guess he left right away. I didn’t see him myself; I just got here a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh. Well, what about the b—what about Reins?”

  “They’ve already taken him to the firepit,” said Coral.

  “Oh. I never heard who found him.”

  “From what I hear, no one; he was lying dead in the back of the cart, and the horse was just pulling the cart along the road all by itself, with no one driving at all.”

  Savn nodded. “And it stopped here?”

  “I don’t know if it stopped by
itself or if Master Tem saw it coming down the road, or what.”

  “I wonder how he died,” said Savn softly. “I wonder if we’ll ever know.”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing—I’ll give you clippings for candles that it isn’t an accident that that Easterner with a sword walks into town the day before Reins shows up dead.”

  Savn stared. “Easterner?”

  “What, you don’t know about him?”

  In fact, the appearance of the body had driven the strange wanderer right out of Savn’s mind. He stuttered and said, “I guess I know who you mean.”

  “Well, there you are, then.”

  “You think the Easterner killed him?”

  “I don’t know if he killed him, but my Pae said he came from the east, and that’s the same way Reins came from.”

  “He came from—” Savn stopped; he was about to say that he came from the south, but he changed his mind and said, “Of course he came from the east; he’s an Easterner.”

  “Still—”

  “What else do you know about him?”

  “Precious little,” said Coral. “Have you seen him?”

  Savn hesitated, then said, “I’ve heard a few things.”

  Coral frowned at him, as if he’d noticed the hesitation, then said, “They say he came on a horse.”

  “A horse? I didn’t see a horse. Or hear about one.”

  “That’s what I heard. Maybe he hid it.”

  “Where would you hide a horse?”

  “In the woods.”

  “Well, but why would you hide a horse?”

  “How should I know. He’s an Easterner; who knows how he thinks?”