“Are you sure?”

“Yes. When did this happen?”

“Ten-days and ten-days afore you came. Right before a lot of them left to go somewhere. It was Hagin, son of Jurin, son of Haron who did it. And—and I don’t know, and—”

“Come, sit down here.” Dorrin led the girl to the stool she herself had sat on that morning. “Bring me a wet cloth,” she said to the others. Motion resumed; the others moved around and Farin brought the cloth.

“Wipe your face,” Farin said to Efla. “What a silly girl, to bother the Duke with all this. And I still think you wanted it, only you got caught and made up all that about being forced—”

“I did not!” Efla said, with another burst of tears. “I was in the pantry there, I told you—”

“I want to hear all her story,” Dorrin said to Farin. “She may have something to tell that will help me clear the last evil from this place. Can you watch Mikeli for me? Will eating too much now make him sicker?”

“Oh!” The cook looked over at the table, where Mikeli was reaching for a pot of honey. “I’ll watch him, never fear.”

“Now, Efla,” Dorrin said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

It was much as she expected. One of the young men had found her in the pantry, late in the evening, when she was finishing the evening audit as assigned. She had been unable to move; he had laughed, fondled her, kissed her, and then forced her to come with him to the old keep, into the dungeon itself. Horrible monsters had been there, dressed in red and black. They’d tortured a kitten in front of her and rubbed her face in its blood. They’d hurt her under her clothes, and laughed at her, and the man—Hagin—had hurt her most between her legs. They’d threatened worse, showing her the tools, the fire, and made her swear eternal loyalty to Liart of the Horned Chain.

“I didn’t want to … but it hurt so much …”

“And now you think you’re with child?”

Efla hung her head; Dorrin could barely hear her voice. “I didn’t bleed.”

“If you are with child, I promise you again it is a human child, not a demon’s. Those monsters were human men, in robes and masks … not anything but that.”

“And the Bloodlord won’t come to take me away if I … if I unsay it?”

“No. But you can’t undo what’s done, or unsay what’s said … you can say differently this time.”

“They said we all had to,” Farin said. Now she looked worried; the other kitchen help edged nearer. “And once we swore, the Bloodlord would know and we could never get away.”

“That’s not true,” Dorrin said. “Anyone can turn from evil if they want to; the gods act through people—through us.” Almost always; Paks had that circle on her forehead through a direct act, but she was a paladin.