“They’re medicinal in nature. They help to stem the blood flow from open wounds.”
“Beauty and utility in a single form.”
“Indeed.”
We reached the table, and he held a chair out for me. I perched in it. My feet quietly celebrated.
Bellen sat. The chair seemed slightly too small for him. In our world, physically gifted people played sports. If you were strong and fast, you became a football player, or a basketball star, or an Olympic athlete. In Rellas, you became a knight. I was probably looking at a descendant of several generations of martial tradition. Knighthood was in his blood.
He was something that was lost in our world because it was no longer needed. We had moved past people in armor charging at each other on a battlefield. Romantic history told us they would wash off the blood and gore and turn into gallant poets at the next formal dinner. If that gallantry had ever truly existed, it would’ve been a disguise, window dressing designed to lull you into forgetting you were sitting across from a trained, experienced killer who would take your life without hesitation. If I left Rellas and returned to my world, I would never be able to see knights in the same way. Not after watching Everard kill. Not after the Butcher. If a Renaissance faire jouster tried to talk to me, I would run away screaming.
“My lady?” Bellen prompted.
“Pardon the hesitation, my lord. Are you aware of the body found in the Dog Market?”
Bellen’s face turned hard. “An ugly affair. Not the way a knight like Shuhoven should have gone.”
“The man responsible for his murder fancies himself a hunter of people. Specifically, knights.”
Bellen frowned. “How do you know this?”
“I cannot tell you that. I can tell you that there was a second victim.”
“Who?”
“Velpor. His body was found in the plaza of the Knight Vanquisher. It was removed and hidden to avoid agitating the Order of the Conqueror.”
Bellen leaned back. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“You weren’t supposed to, my lord.”
I hesitated. One wrong word here and he could detain me. He clearly was high enough in the ranks. But knights were bound by a code of conduct. Defender Knights, in particular, made a big deal out of the knightly virtues. If he did something unbecoming of a knight, it would make his political life within the Order more complicated, and his rivals would use it against him. It was less about his explicit authority and more about how he would be seen by others. I had to leverage that against uncomfortable questions.
“I find myself in an awkward position, my lord. Lord Berengur would have reason to believe the things I’m telling you, and he would understand why I cannot reveal the source of my information. I have no choice but to rely on your discretion.”
“You have it.” He leaned closer. He was already taking up too much space, and now he blocked half of my view.
“Do I have your word?”
“Yes.”
“The hunter of knights will strike again, and he has selected a new victim. He will track her until the opportunity presents itself, ambush her, abduct her, torture her, and then display her mutilated corpse to terrify the city. I want to spare her that fate.”
“Who is she?”
“Dame Eliarde.”
No reaction. I had expected surprise, outrage, something.
“If I were to warn Dame Eliarde, she would not heed my warning. She has no reason to trust me. She might take it as a threat or a slight against her skill. Depending on her mood, I might not be able to walk away from that meeting. I came here to beg Lord Berengur to deliver that warning on my behalf.”
He studied me. “This is a grave matter.”
“It is. I do not want her to die, my lord.”
He fell silent, considering it.
I waited. I had no arguments left.
