Page 114 of Luthias

“My lord brother wouldnae agree.” He tossed out the bindings and then clamped a heavy manacle around her wrist. “You cannot escape, my lady,” he said as he cuffed her other arm. “Dinnae harm yourself trying to work free.”

“Do you know about the legend of the Fire Sword?” she asked as he stepped out and shut the grate. When he nodded, she held up her hands, and grimaced as the heavy chains attached to the manacles yanked at her arms. “Okay, short version: it brought me back from the twenty-first century so I could stop this from happening. I’m the only one who can, but I can’t do it from here. I need to examine Athdara’s body and determine how she died. I know you’re a war master, and battles are what you do, but please. Give me a chance to do my job first, or a lot of your brothers will die for no reason.”

“Mind the chains, my lady.” Struan turned and walked back up the stairs.

Emery sat down and watched bits and pieces of straw waft around her. “Of course I’m locked in a dungeon and they’re going to war and no one will listen to me. Why would saving the MacRoss be something simple and easy?”

Something outside her cell rustled, and then through the grate she saw a rat scamper into view on the other side. It stopped to look at her and sniff the air before it continued on its way. Emery shuddered and pulled the wool blanket over her legs and feet, hitting her shoulder with one chain in the process.

“The next time someone tries to steal a priceless medieval sword to sell on the black market, Emery,” she muttered, “Let them.”

She should have tried to run while she’d been in the great hall upstairs, Emery decided after thinking and seeing she didn’t have any way to escape manacles and a dungeon. She might have found a good hiding spot somewhere in Dun Deigh. Or she might have been killed by one of the Carack guards, which seemed more likely.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made her rise to her feet and peer through the grate.

“Hello?” She stood on her toes trying to see. “Is someone there? I need to use the privy.”

A tall, middle-aged sage dressed in a black robe and carrying a tray with food entered the dungeon. “The empty bucket there shall serve that purpose, my lady.”

“So, there’s something actually worse than a privy. Good to know.” Emery watched him place the tray in front of the bottom of the cell grate. “I’m not hungry, thank you. Could you please help me get out of here, Master…?”

“Reothadh,” the sage said. “I ken ’tisnae comfortable, my lady, but here you shall be safe.”

“That’s what Lord Struan said. Wait, please,” Emery said quickly as he started toward the stairs. “You know about the legend, and why I’m here, don’t you?” When he nodded she blew out a breath. “Seems like everyone does. Okay. I’m a forensic anthropologist in my time. Among other things, I’ve been trained to analyze human remains and determine how they died. Please let me out and take me to Athdara Martin’s body. I have to examine her.”

“Why should you?” Reothadh asked. “I’ve seen the body. The jewel-setter drowned.”

“Maybe she did, but Athdara didn’t kill herself. Someone murdered her.” She mentally crossed her fingers before she said, “And I can prove it.”

The sage looked torn now, as if he wanted to believe her but wouldn’t let himself.

“I can examine Athdara very quickly,” Emery told him. “You can put guards on me while I do. They haven’t buried her body yet, right?”

He shook his head. “Lord Struan ordered her burned. They’re building a pyre for her now.”

“Then we really don’t have much time.” She held out her chained wrists. “I know this is why I was brought back to your time by the Fire Sword, not just to save the MacRoss but the Carack, too. I can’t serve my purpose locked up like this. I give you my word, I won’t try to escape. Please let me do this before these men start killing each other. Some of your sages could be caught in the fighting, too.”

Reothadh glanced at a door to one side of the cells, and his expression grew bleak. Slowly he took down the keys on the wall to unlock the grate.

As he came in to remove her manacles, he said, “Dinnae break your vow to me, my lady, or you shallnae live to return to your time.”

Emery looked up into his cold eyes. “I won’t. Thank you, Master Reothadh.”

He escorted her upstairs, and then through the back passages to take her into a big room with slatted benches and stone tables, and open-fronted cabinets filled with bottles and crocks. Piles of linen strips neatly stacked on a side bench suggested that this was the clan’s infirmary. On one of the stone tables lay a shrouded body. As soon as he closed the door Emery removed her jacket and put on one of the leather aprons hanging on the wall.

“I need more light,” she told him as she peeled back the shroud to reveal Athdara’s corpse. While the sage lit more candles, she said, “First I’ll estimate the time of her death.”

“Her limbs arenae stiff, and the color of her skin shows rot well set in.” He came to stand beside her and handed her small leather gloves before pulling on a larger pair. “I reckon she drowned mayhap three to five days past.”

That told Emery she probably wouldn’t be able to lie to him, not that she had been planning to.

“Have you seen a drowning victim before now?” When he nodded she said, “Then you know if she had been in the water all that time, her body would be bloated. There would also be damage from fish feeding on her.” Emery surveyed the body. “I’m not seeing any signs of that.”

“Mayhap her body washed up onto the embankment where Lord Callum found her,” Reothadh said. “Or a beast pulled her out.”

He wanted to maintain the current narrative, but he didn’t sound too convinced of what he was saying, Emery thought. Although he didn’t have her knowledge, she needed to keep him on her side.

“You’re right, Master, that’s possible, although unlikely, since the body was weighted down with stones.” Emery tilted her head as she tugged down the damp bodice and ran her fingertips from one shoulder to the other. “Her clavicle is fractured in two places.”