Another team of twenty-five broke ranks and rode forward, leaving the remaining three hundred Nadirii fanned out on the moor.

The rest of their contingent, numbering one hundred and twenty-five, had earlier taken posts through the Argyll Forest to their back and along the Westfork and Dunleth, to the south, north and east, in order to act as scouts for danger that might threaten the whole regiment approaching Kilcree.

Ophelia again whirled Midsummer and made her cautious way through the town toward the castle.

She had reined in at the end of the footbridge over the moat when she saw Lucinda on horseback enter the drawbridge riding at some speed toward the barbican.

Lucinda pulled back so quickly, her steed reeled, but her lieutenant only jerked up her chin toward her queen.

Thus, Ophelia rode on, over the footbridge, through the arch at the barbican, over the lowered drawbridge and through the opening under the guardhouse, following Lucinda and rounding the guardhouse once she cleared it, walking Midsummer across the bailey toward the opened door to the keep.

But Ophelia smelled it before she stopped where Lucinda was still astride her horse at the door to the tall building.

“What has happened here?” Ophelia asked.

“I would have to examine the bodies,” Lucinda answered in her taciturn lieutenant’s usual manner, that being emotionlessly, but with these opening words, Ophelia braced. “And there are two sets. One of men, shrouded carefully, respectfully, though from the little I saw under the dressings of the one I examined, their corpses were not always treated with such deference. They are laid out in an upper room in the keep and they have been dead for some time. The others, many of them, tossed unceremoniously in a large room below the earth. This closed off in order not to be ravaged as carrion, as it is clear they were meant to be found as they are. They have been dead for a while, but not nearly as long as the others.”

Ophelia did not understand what she was hearing.

“Does Cassius have allies he does not know?” she inquired.

“You would need to ask him, though I will say it is not known widely the Zees are his friends.”

Ophelia, not often taken aback, was just thus.

“Zees?” she queried.

“Zees gather weapons where they can steal them, but in hand-to-hand combat, they utilize them in a rather distinct way.”

“By the goddess,” Ophelia murmured.

“The decay has long set in.” Lucinda’s voice now held a slight tone of regard. “But I would hazard to guess the shrouded men are Otho and his squad. And I will note, Ophelia, that I mentioned the others piled below, and we have not sorted through them, but I did not see a single woman amongst them.”

“Dear goddess,” Ophelia breathed before she gathered her wits and proclaimed, “It would not be good for peace in this land if the women rise up peremptorily. And I cannot credit it, for they never get involved in politics. Zees?”