Pushing down a queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach, Alyce made her way to the side of Sir Jiri Redfearn, Zoë close behind her.

«Jiri, what's happened?» she murmured.

Jiri shook his head, never taking his eyes from the wellhead. «Bad business, my lady. Apparently, one of the pages fell down the well and drowned».

«Dear God, which one?» Zoë murmured.

«I'm afraid it's Lady Jessamy's lad, milady», Jiri said. «We've been looking for him most of the night».

«But — how could he fall down the well?» Alyce asked. «Surely it's too narrow».

Jiri shrugged. «We wondered that, too. He went in headfirst. They had to send another boy down to tie a rope around his ankles. Only way to get him out».

As he said that, two booted feet appeared over the edge of the well-head — a child's feet — and a flash of crimson page's livery, just before the men closed in around him to block any further view by the two young women.

«Stay here!» Jiri ordered, turning briefly to face them and pointing emphatically at the ground, before heading toward the well at a brisk trot.

Alyce and Zoë could not hear what the men were saying, but the king himself came to wrap his cloak around the little body as it emerged fully from the well, letting Richard and Kenneth help lay the boy on the ground. The two physicians moved in quickly, but only crouched briefly before reluctantly withdrawing, shaking their heads. Master Donnard looked particularly stunned. After a moment, the king himself came over to where the two young women waited, his face white and drawn. His glance at Zoë allowed for no appeal.

«Leave us, please. I would have a word in private with Lady Alyce».

When Zoë had withdrawn, wandering closer to where two young pages were anxiously craning their necks to see more of the fate of their young friend, the king turned back to Alyce, though not without a backward look over his shoulder in the direction of the well.

«Dear Alyce, I must ask a very great favor of you», he said in a very low voice. «There's been murder done here during the night, and I will know who is responsible».

«It was Krispin?» she murmured, stunned. «He was murdered?»

Donal closed his eyes briefly and nodded. «Aye, and worse than just murder. And it is I who must tell his mother. And because she is his mother, I cannot ask her to do what I now must ask of you».

«What would you have of me, Sire?» she whispered.

«If Morian were here, I would ask him, but…» Donal made a gesture of dismissal of the thought with one hand and returned his stunned gaze to her face, almost as if he had not heard her. «Alyce, I do not know the extent of your training, but I am hoping it will be enough to do what needs to be done. Do you know of a procedure called a death-reading?»

Cautiously she gave a nod.

«And have you had training in its use?»

She allowed herself a slight, ironic smile. «I know the theory, Sire. But I had little opportunity to apply it, at the convent. However, I am willing to do what I can».

He sighed and gave a nod. «I shall have the area cleared, then, so that you may work undisturbed — for I am given to understand that much can sometimes be learned from the place where the crime took place. And I would not expose you to any more notoriety than is necessary, by asking you to work before witnesses who, quite probably, would see such magery as a demonstration of demonic powers. Sir Kenneth, I believe, is somewhat accustomed to seeing you work, from having had you tend his injury last autumn?»

«Yes, Sire».

Donal allowed himself a snort of something approaching relief. «That is well, since you are to be wed. I shall ask him to attend you. Will you need other assistance?»

«His daughter and I are very close, Sire», Alyce ventured. «If I have the assistance of those two, and the yard is cleared, I shall do my best to discover what I may». She could not ask for Vera, for to do so might reveal her secret.

«Excellent. I will have the identity of his killers, Alyce», the king warned, fixing her with his gaze. «They used him most cruelly before they threw him down that well. Do you understand what I am saying?»

Speechless, she gave him a nod, trying to keep at bay the image that had flashed into her mind's eye.

«Good. I would know whether it was that or the drowning that killed him. In either case, such men do not deserve to live!»

She bowed her head in acceptance of his instructions. «I shall learn as much as possible, Sire».

Donal sighed and touched her hand with his. «Thank you. It is well — or, as well as it can be, given what has happened. I go now to tell Lady Jessamy. When you are finished here, you might come to her, for I think she shall need the healing sleep that comes best from one of your kind».

«Yes, Sire».

Five minutes later, the yard had been cleared and the two stable-arch doors closed, with men standing outside to prevent intrusion. On so bitter a winter day, it was not likely that many would seek the lower gardens or the tilting yard beyond. Kenneth had brought a low bench from the stable and set it close beside the shrouded form of the dead boy. There Alyce sank down, Zoë beside her, Kenneth kneeling on the opposite side.

«This will not be pleasant», Kenneth warned.

'That's why I am here», she said softly. «Let me see him».

At her nod, Kenneth drew back the cloak from the boy's head. The sable hair had streamed away from his face as they pulled him from the water, and lay matted and stiffening with frost at the top of his head, bits of straw spiking it here and there. The gray eyes were open and staring, the fair skin marred by several raw-looking scuffs, probably incurred as he fell down the well. Any bleeding had been washed away by a night in the water.

«Show me the rest», Alyce whispered.

Biting at his lip, Kenneth flipped the rest of the cloak back off the boy's crimson-clad body, which lay in an icy puddle still leaching outward from the water-logged page's livery of which he had been so proud. Again, there were bits of straw stuck to his clothing and freezing in the puddle, and ice was beginning to glitter on his clothing. His scarlet britches were bunched around his knees. Though they had folded his arms across his chest after pulling him from the well, the hands were badly scuffed and raw, some of the nails broken, and several of the fingers jutted at odd angles, as did one wrist.

«Dear God, he did fight them», Alyce breathed.

«Aye, but what could a child his age do against grown men?» Kenneth murmured, his voice catching. «And to use him thus…»

Choking off a sob, he drew the cloak back over the boy's body, leaving only the head exposed.

«Get on with it, then», he said roughly. «Find out who has done this to him!»

She slid to her knees beside Krispin's head, stripping off her gloves and handing them to Zoë, then laid her hands on the boy's head, feeling in his hair for skull injuries, opening his mouth to look at his teeth. One of the bottom ones was missing, but she thought the gap might have marked a shed milk tooth rather than one lost during his ordeal. He had several lacerations that might have occurred in the fall down the well, and one depressed fracture, but given the probable sequence of his assault, she thought it unlikely that the blow had killed him before he could drown.

Hoping for a clue to that, at least, she slipped her hands under the cloak and inside his shirt, probing with her powers to check the lungs — yes, filled with fluid, so he had still been alive when he went into the water. But if God had been merciful, the boy had been unconscious by then, or soon after. She hoped it had been quick.

«All right, that's the easy part», she murmured, shifting her hands back to his head.

Without further remark, she took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, shifting into trance and extending her mind into what remained of that of Krispin MacAthan. To her surprise, his shields had been fairly well developed for one so young. But in death, little remained of what protection those shields had given him. Slipping past them easily, she began casting for recent memories that she knew, focusing on the glittering festivities of the Twelfth Night court, and Krispin's personal highlight of receiving his official livery as one of the king's pages.