Cataindar

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Luisa could see catain figures outlined against a glow, and as she approached she saw it was the abbot, Finn and a runner, who was crumpled in exhaustion sitting on the ground.

The abbot’s face, lit by the flames, was full of concern.

He turned and saw Luisa, and his face fell, she could tell this was something he didn’t want her to see. Before he could say anything spoke, 

“Abbot, don’t, I won’t be going back to my quarters.”

The abbot gave a short nod, and turned again to face the room in silence.

Finn did not turn to look at Luisa.  Both were transfixed by the flame extending from a scene Luisa could not yet see.  She passed the seated catain, his gold sash signifying that he was a runner for the readers, as she passed him she could see his fur was singed, his paws burnt, an empty water pail lay rocking at his side.  He did not look up but sat breathing heavily.

As Luisa walked towards the room as her mouth went dry.  She could see black smoke damage around the great opaque glass doors, one which had been flung open.

“Good god,” she gasped as she took in the sight. 

Clearwater let out a small howl before throwing herself behind Finn immediately sobbing into his back. 

Luisa could not tear her eyes from the gruesome spectacle.

It was the Chamber of Journals. The fine glass cabinets were smashed, and the floor was heavily littered with the blackened shards of their glass.  Hundreds of the thick journals were scattered about and had been violently ripped apart, piled together and burned. Several empty water buckets showed the exhausted runner’s gallant effort at tackling the fire and saving some of the tomes.  As piles of journals continued to burn off they creating a satanic glow to highlight the centrepiece of the room.

A dead reader sat in the centre of the room leaning back against a burning chair with her legs akimbo.  Her face was set in a frozen, silent scream with eyes wide open, unseeing.  Her silent screaming face was horrifically burned.  With both ears gone, and fur and skin disposed of to expose her mouth, the sinews drawn back into a death-snarl and two rows of sharp teeth bared and open.  Around her shoulders were the charred robes that identified her as a scribe.

Ranson.

Both her seared paws were clasped around a silver sword that had been pushed through her middle with such force it had pinned the scribe to the floor leaving her to burn alive. 

Luisa turned her back to the scene to face the abbot. His eyes were shining with tears that reflected the dying flames.  He spoke heavily with a cracked voice.

“This is dark work Luisa.  Dark, dark work. Ranson, was a great scribe. A good life lost. These books… our history, this is sacrilege.”

Luisa spoke with a voice so powerful, so full, it was almost not her own.

“This is murder.”

Finn and the abbot both seemed to break free from their trance to regard Luisa.  Clearwater peeked from behind Finn and the exhausted runner raised his head to listen to the Princess.

Luisa glared back at them, with her back to the fire, her body felt like it crackled with an incredible energy.  She spoke again, regarding each one in turn.

“This is murder. And I know who did it. Finn, we must find a reader, his name is Garner, I am certain he is the murderer.”

Luisa explained what she had just seen.  The runner stood, willing to guide them. Garner was a low level reader, and he still lived deep in the Drylliads. They would need to get down there fast.