Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel by Alexis Morgan Page B

same bench where Berta had stitched up Duncan’s wound. He pulled down the sheet as far as Rubar’s waist. The fatal wound was jagged and ugly. He swallowed hard and continued his examination.
    It didn’t take long. There were no unexpected marks on either man. He gently pulled the sheets back up to cover the bodies, aware the whole time of Musar and Lavinia watching his every move.
    Lavinia stepped closer to him. “Did you find anything?”
    Duncan shook his head. “No, but I didn’t expect to. If there’d been some physical reason for Rubar to attack, he could’ve done so at any time over the past few days, but Rubar acted completely normal right up until dinner.”
    “Very well, then. Shall we move on to the workroom?”
    The trader nodded. “I will be just a few minutes. I will let my wife know we’ve finished.”
    Musar walked out of the infirmary far faster than he’d walked in. Duncan didn’t blame him. “Shall we go to the workroom?”
    “I should also tell Sister Berta that we’re finished in here.”
    She left Duncan alone with the two men he’d killed. He closed his own eyes and murmured a prayer to the Lord and Lady of the River, asking them to wash the two souls clean of the darkness that had caused their deaths.
    “Amen.”
    Lavinia’s softly spoken word startled him. He hadn’t realized he’d said the prayer aloud. He schooled his features to reveal nothing of the churning emotions he was feeling at the moment.
    Even so, she looked at him as if she were seeing far more than what was on the surface. “You follow the Lord and Lady, then.”
    It wasn’t actually a question, but he nodded anyway. “Yes, I serve them. Is that a problem?”
    “Not at all. I find their teachings interesting, but perhaps we should save this discussion for another time. The workroom is just across the hallway.”
    Ava and the other traders’ wives were waiting outside the door. Ava met his gaze, but the others looked away as their fingers moved in the familiar gesture against evil. He was sorry they felt that way about him, but there wasn’t much he could do to change their opinions of him.
    Besides, Duncan had just killed two of their people. The two men had been the ones in the wrong, but Duncan was the outsider. It was no surprise they’d closed ranks against him.
    Inside the workroom, Musar stood on the far side of the table, leaving Lavinia and Duncan free to search through everything the two men had owned. Duncan started with their saddles and tack. He ran his hands over every inch of the well-worn leather and found nothing. No hidden pockets where something might have been stashed.
    From there Duncan moved on to the weapons. The swords were good quality, but plain, as were the knives. Functional rather than fancy, meaning Rubar had spent his money on the steel, where it counted.
    Next, he went through the small chests that held their extra clothing and a few personal possessions. Still he found nothing that would account for their behavior.
    He reached for the pack that Rubar had carried into the abbey’s guest quarters. It held the usual kind of items a man who lived on the road would have: a change of clothing, a comb, a bit of soap, and a few other odds and ends. The second man’s pack was much the same.
    That left only the clothing they’d been wearing at the time of their deaths. The shirts were slashed and bloody, but otherwise unremarkable. The same was true of the pants. Both sets of boots were worn but serviceable. Duncan neatly folded what he could and set it all aside.
    When he picked up a coin purse, a shiver of dread cold washed straight up Duncan’s arm. He dropped the small leather bag and stepped back.
    Lavinia had been standing off to the side, watching his every move but making no effort to assist him. “Duncan, what’s wrong?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    He pointed to the bag. “Musar, which man did that belong to?”
    The trader squinted to stare at it, still not approaching the