Next morning, he woke feeling perfectly well, but—mindful of the Kuakgan’s warning—he drank down his medicinal draft before breakfast. He asked Elmholt if he could carry his sword as usual, and the Kuakgan handed him a jug of sharp-smelling stuff.

“If there’s any hint of kuaknomi blood or taint, this will cleanse it. I heard from others that both sword and dagger might have some healing properties, so this should take care of any residue.”

“Thank you,” Kieri said. “What about my mail?”

“Kuaknomi have no power over metals,” Elmholt said. “Only the blood on it could make it dangerous. Nonetheless, it must be dipped in the same infusion of herbs you drank and then pulled through a fire. The carpet and any other cloth or leather that touched the kuaknomi or its blood must be discarded entire. Your steward is even now removing the carpets in the entrance hall so that the one in your office can be removed without risking any contamination of others. Only one chair need be burned.”

“You wanted to visit the ossuary,” Kieri said, changing the subject. “I agree you should, but first I must tell you what happened at Midwinter.” He told the tale; Elmholt listened with full attention. “I am sure there’s something under the King’s Mound, something human: bones, I suspect, dead of some treachery. But I am not sure what to do. Be wary. I would not have you trapped in death.”

Elmholt chuckled. “Lord king, we are as trees, whose roots extend beneath the ground. It is not death to us there, but the source of nourishment and connection. We will ask the trees what is there and whether Kuakkgani can help. I suspect, though, that as you are both king and half-elven, you are the one to cleanse any evil there. Do you think kuaknomi were involved?”

“I have no idea. The Lady held it to be a sacred place; the Oathstone there is where we both swore oaths and where I was crowned. If kuaknomi had done whatever was done, would that invalidate the oaths?”

“No … the lords of all hold all true oaths in their keeping,” Elmholt said. “If you swore truly, then your oath holds until you break it. We will seek what answers we can from the taig and the roots of the trees. When we have done that, we will await your convenience.” He smiled. “I know that kings are busy men.”

“Thank you,” Kieri said. Elmholt bowed and left the chamber.

Breakfast was subdued. Kieri felt naked without his mail. He wore his heavy quilted gambeson under his clothes—poor protection against an iynisin’s blade—and his heaviest doublet over it, hot as that was on a spring day, and went to the salle to ask Carlion about armorers. There he found Maelis, who reported that Lady Tolmaric was calmer but wanted to know if she could take Sier Tolmaric’s body home for burial.