Page 54 of Luthias

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.”

He touched the broken collar bone. “The current in the river, ’tis strong.”

Emery came around the table and pulled back the corpse’s gown to reveal extensive bruising on the right shoulder and upper arm.

“See the bruises here? They’re turning yellow and brown, so this injury happened approximately five to ten days before she died.” She studied the pattern of the injury before she added, “It looks like she had a bad fall. If she landed hard enough it could have broken the collar bone. Was she right-handed?”

He thought for a moment. “Aye.”

“From what I saw, the writing in the suicide note Callum found was very neat and even,” she said. “Yet with a fractured collar bone it would have been incredibly painful for this woman to even move her arm.”

“Mayhap she used the other hand,” Reothadh said. “I scribe with both hands.”

“Good point.” She reached for the bodice laces, and then stopped herself. “I’m going to remove her clothing so I can examine the rest of her body. Will that upset you, Master?”

Reothadh shook his head, and then went to the end of the table to take off Athdara’s shoes.

Once the corpse was completely nude Emery stood beside him and surveyed the extensive damage done to the woman’s body from her breasts to her thighs. Although dealing with remains had always been an intellectual rather than emotional experience for Emery, she felt wretched and angry at seeing the evidence of how much Athdara had suffered before she had died.

“By the Gods,” the sage murmured, appalled. “She’s been stabbed a hundred times.”

“I don’t think so,” Emery told him. “The wounds would be deeper.”

She was pretty sure what had made the puncture marks––antlers––but telling the sage that Callum’s lover had been locked in a gibbeting cage on MacRoss land would only make the situation worse.

Emery glanced down at the wrists and ankles. “These abrasions here appear to be ligature marks from being restrained for long periods of time,” she said, pointing out the rings of bruised, lacerated flesh on the extremities. “There are no tears on her clothes, so she was naked or was wearing other garments when she was injured. Since there are no bloodstains on this clothing, it appears that someone washed her body and redressed her after death.”

He looked pale and sick now. “The river water, ’twould soak away the stains.”

“Have you ever tried to get blood out of linen and wool using only cold water?” she asked. “It’s very difficult.”

“Yet possible,” the sage countered. “Or her wounds came from a beast attack she survived, and then bathed herself and changed her clothing.”

“All right, let’s say she was attacked. She would raise her arms to protect herself, like this.” She demonstrated the move with her own arms for the sage, and then checked Athdara’s forearms. “I see no defensive wounds. I think her hands were bound behind her back when she received these injuries.”

“Why should a killer bathe and dress her?” Reothadh asked.

“To hide the evidence of torture. Would anyone have undressed her body before burning it?” After he shook his head she checked Athdara’s fingers. “It looks like there’s some debris under her nails. Do you have a knife with a small tip, and something to catch the scrapings?”

After a telling hesitation Reothadh gave her a short blade and a shallow cup, which she used as she carefully removed the debris under the fingernails. She then handed the blade back to the sage, and carried the cup over to the side table next to a lantern.

Emery turned the cup as she studied the tiny bits. “This looks like red dirt and straw to me.” She stepped back. “What do you think?”