Death by Hanging

 

I

    Miriam felt numb.

    “Death, ma’am...by hanging...for the murder of Merle of Marbury.”

    “When?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    “Tomorrow morning, ma’am,” said the handmaid, wringing her hands.

    “Thank you, Edith, you may go.”

    The handmaid curtsied and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Miriam alone with her thoughts.

    How could Arvel have done this?

    Miriam flopped back on her bed, heaving a great sigh. The castle had felt much colder since yesterday morning’s developments. She had been walking in the wilder part of the gardens lining the wall of the castle grounds when she stumbled upon the mangled body of her dearest friend, Merle, in the briar thickets. She shuddered as she forced the gruesome image from her mind.

    Miriam fought the tears welling in her eyes as she remembered the last time she had seen him alive. It had been four days ago. They had been sitting in those same gardens together, simply talking. There was no one like Merle. He had been the latest of Miriam’s many suitors before Arvel came. But despite all, they had never felt anything more than amiable friendship toward one another. Miriam had always thought it was for the best; every time a man expressed any interest in her, bad things always seemed to happen. She would fall out of favor with some - that she could accept - but many courtships had ended much worse. Some had fallen terribly ill, almost overnight, and many of them had not made it. Others would be called to fight in her aging father’s land feuds. Others still would simply vanish, with never so much as a by-your-leave; no trace or connections to speak of.

    She hadn’t told many others, but she had trusted Merle with her insecurities. Given her lifelong streak of bad luck, Miriam was certain she must be cursed.

    “I admit I am glad we never became closer than friends, Merle. I couldn’t bear the thought of something horrible happening to you, too!” she had said to him. “You are my dearest friend.”

    Merle’s brow had been furrowed, but then he had grinned.“And you, mine, m’lady-” a kiss to her hand.

    Merle had been the only one who had never ridiculed her belief that she was cursed. That was part of what had made him such a valuable friend. And now he was gone.

    Suddenly, there was a sharp rap at the door. Miriam sat up and fisted the tears off of her cheeks.

    “Enter,” she said.

    A young man cracked the door a moment before throwing it open and coming in eyebrows drawn together in concern.

    “Oh, Miriam, I’m so sorry! I take it you have already heard the verdict?” he said, bringing an extra candle to brighten the darkening room and coming to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

    “Yes, Lancil, I have heard. I do not always need my big brother around to know what goes on in this castle.” Miriam flicked the last tears away and studied the floor.

    “I just cannot believe that Arvel would do such a horrible thing! He never seemed like the vengeful sort to me,” Lancil went on, putting an arm around her shoulder. “He carried himself like such a gentleman...and you two would have made a fine union. Father would have been pleased if he were strong enough to worry about politics anymore.”

    Miriam couldn’t quite believe it either. Arvel was a good man. They had courted for nearly three months, now, and Miriam felt like she knew him almost inside and out. The way he made her feel had been hitherto unrivaled. There was no one quite like him. It seemed like he truly understood her. She felt the most comfortable when with him. They got along so well, and he was easy to make conversation with. Miriam had been especially pleased when one of those easy conversations had turned into a proposal. The whole household had enthusiastically approved, and Miriam had been counting the days to their union. They were to be married in two months’ time, but now...she just couldn’t wrap her head around it. Arvel was strong and capable, and everything a gentleman should be. And until now, he had always seemed an honest man, bearing no ill intentions. Yes, he had his flaws - no one was perfect. But Miriam would never in a thousand years peg him as a criminal. Arvel was many things, some good and some not so good. But a murderer he was not.

    “...and he seemed just as shocked as the rest of us!” Lancil continued.

    “Yes…” Miriam added doubtfully. She wasn’t certain shocked was the word. Hunted seemed more fitting. Or better yet, shadowed with a sense of foreboding. She was sure she would never forget the way he had looked at her when they caught him. It would probably haunt her forever. The guards had come running at her scream, with Lancil not far behind. A few other members of the household had also come to see what was going on. Moments later, Arvel had come crashing around a corner, clothes torn and bloodied, and face looking almost as messed up as Merle’s. He had looked a little dazed, as if not all there.

The only conclusion to make was that he had been involved in whatever had happened. Lancil had ordered his arrest, Arvel had protested. Even tried to break free. He didn’t get very far, though. The guards had him pinned to the ground before he’d made a few steps. As they bound him, Arvel had looked up at her. His face had betrayed that he must know more than Miriam hoped he did. But the look he had given her held just as much confusion in it as it had foreboding.

    “-just grateful that we detained him before he could do more harm. I hesitate to imagine what he would have done to you if the wedding had gone through,” Lancil broke into her thoughts once more.

    “Yes, I could have met the same fate as our good friend, Merle. But Arvel never struck me as a killer. Surely I would have seen it before now!” Miriam said, looking up at her brother for the first time. He was staring across the room, into the mirror at her vanity.

    “...I think...I think he must have been trying to save face,” Lancil said thoughtfully, rubbing his temple as he often did when working through a problem. “It must have been a plot to take our land.” He sat in silence for a moment, brow furrowed as his mind turned the idea over. “I suspect after he got you out of the way, he’d probably try to get me so he could inherit the estate!” Now his eyes were wide, and filled with fire. “Father is old, and his health is failing. It wouldn’t be hard to make everything look like an accident and just take over! That is what became of the Tritham household! A stranger came and within a year’s time had become the heir of the house!” His eyes flashed as his mind pieced the puzzle together. “Yes, that must have been his plan all along!”

    Miriam admired her brother’s quick thinking and conviction. But she still felt uneasy about it all. Something didn’t seem...right…

    “...Lancil?” Miriam ventured.

    “What is it, Miriam, Dear?”

    Miriam took a deep breath.

    “Lancil - what if I’m cursed?”

    Lancil stifled a snort.

    “A curse?” He asked. “What on earth could you mean by that?”

    “Well...ever since I reached marrying age...I have noticed that I seem to have bad luck with all the men who court me.” Miriam fell silent, inwardly pleading that her brother would not think her lunatic.

    “...I have noticed that as well, dear sister,” Lancil finally said after a while. Now it was he who was looking down at the floor. “We have been through a good number of young suitors, and many of them have met terrible ends.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at her. “But think not of curses! Times change. Things happen. Accidents, even! But surely it is not some silly curse! Perhaps a bit of bad luck, maybe, but a curse?” he scoffed. “Never! You should put some more good sense into that head! No need to start believing in fairytales, especially at a time like this.” Lancil pulled her in for a quick hug.

Miriam’s heart sank. She should have known he would never take her seriously.

“Maybe you just have a way with the men,” he joked weakly. Miriam did not feel better.

“Lancil, please try to understand. I have been of marrying age for several years now, and any man who has tried to get close to me has disappeared, or gotten sick or something else dreadful has happened to him! Surely that cannot just be coincidence!”

Lancil studied her for a moment. “Yes, I do suppose you have a point. It is kind of odd, isn’t it?” He looked down at the floor, rubbing his temple again. “Perhaps it’s not as silly a notion as we think…you could be onto something.”

    “I had hoped...I had hoped that Merle would be spared from this. It has been nearly three years since we courted. I truly thought him safe. But I was wrong. And then there’s Arvel - I simply cannot allow myself to believe that he would do it! He’s a good man!”

    “It truly is a tragedy, isn’t it?”Lancil spoke softly, now. He looked up at her and took her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “But curse or no, imagine how much worse it could have been had he not been caught. Think positively, sister. You are still here. I am still here. And we will have avenged Merle’s killer come morning. All will be well. You’ll see. We’ll both see.”

    Lancil rose to his feet and moved to the door. He stepped out into the hall and before he closed the door he smiled.

    “I love you, Miriam. I want to keep you safe. I know you were fond of Arvel. But clearly he would have been no good for this house.” Miriam didn’t move until the door had shut and she could no longer hear Lancil’s footsteps in the corridor.

    Miriam laid back on her bed once more, grabbing a plush pillow and clutching it to her chest. Her head spun. Too much had happened today. Perhaps she just needed a night to sleep on it all. She closed her eyes and immediately saw the image of her betrothed, bound and pinned to the ground, looking at her with pleading eyes.

    Her eyelids flew open and she bolted upright. Sleep would not come easily tonight.

    As Miriam tossed and turned, she wished she could simply will the truth away. But the evidence was all there. He had been found in the same area as Merle’s body, torn clothes and scraped body betraying a muddy, bloody struggle. His hands had been covered in the rusty color of gore. He had looked half-crazed. Had tried to run. The guards had had to chase him down and bind him.

    But that look he had given her…

    I have to talk to him, she thought. Miriam jumped up and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders before stepping cautiously out into to the hallway. The house was silent, all its inhabitants long-retired. It was difficult to see, but Miriam did not need a candle to find her way around her home. Besides, a light might give her away. It was far too late to request an audience with Arvel, but what other choice did she have, when he was to be...she shook the thought from her head and focused on the task at hand.

    Miriam made her way down to the dungeons. Most of the underground space was used for winter storage. With luck, the guards would have fallen asleep, having only one prisoner to guard, and she wouldn’t have to answer any questions.

    To her relief, Miriam slid past a pair of guards sleeping soundly at their table, one slumped over and the other leaned back with mouth open, both with hands on their weapons. They would have been more intimidating had they not been snoring in unison.

    Miriam crept through the hole behind the guards’ room and down the cramped corridor, peering through barred doors, careful to avoid the low ceiling. It smelled musty and she wished for a draft to circulate the stuffy air. When she felt she had gone far enough out of earshot of the guards, she ventured a whisper.

    “Arvel? Arvel, are you there?”

     There was a shuffling to her right.

    “...Miriam? Is that you?”

    She flew to the source of the sound. In the darkness she could just barely make out the shape a man, hunched over, peering up at her.

    “Arvel!” She reached through the bars to grasp his hands.

    “Oh, Miriam, Love! You shouldn’t be here, but I am so glad you are!” his voice was shaky with emotion.

 “Arvel, I don’t understand! Please tell me what happened!”

    Arvel squeezed her hands in his and asked, “So...you don’t believe I did it?”

    “I’m not sure what I should believe or not, but I will not be at peace until I hear the story from you.”

    The man let out a heavy, rattling sigh.

    “I’ve been framed, Miriam.”

 

II

    Miriam released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “How do I know you’re not lying?” Even as she said this, she could feel some of her fears dissipate.

    Arvel gripped her hand tighter. “You have to trust me, I suppose. Yes, I was in the garden. Yes, I know the evidence against me is overwhelming. But, you wouldn’t have come here if you had believed it.”

He knew her well.

    “I need to hear your side of the story, Arvel,” Miriam replied in a measured tone.

    Arvel let go of her hand and sat back.

    “I was returning from Darton late that night and had decided to take a shortcut through the garden when I heard a noise. It sounded like a muffled struggle. I hid myself behind the wall and ventured a look. I could see our friend, Merle, grappling against a masked figure.

    “I knew I had to do something, so I drew my knife and crept out to get closer. I was almost within range when the attacker stabbed him in the shoulder, then the back. I jumped up and tried to intercept, but he saw me and dropped Merle. I called for help, and Merle was moaning, but no one came. We wrestled. I got him on the arm with my own blade, but he gave me this cut in return.” Arvel pointed to the gash on his cheek, barely discernable in the darkness.

    “Still no one came. That is what I don’t understand. There should have been guards posted nearby, but either they weren’t there or they weren’t listening. I ended up on the ground, and he brought his knife down before I could even react! Only instead of stabbing me, he must have hit me in the head,” he pointed to a deep, blooming bruise on his temple.

    “The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the ground. Head hurt like hell. At first I couldn’t remember where I was, or what had happened. Then it started coming back to me, and I remembered Merle and the masked man from last night. I began searching for help, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before I heard your cry. I ran as fast as I could, but as you already know, when I got there, I was immediately accused and...well, here we are.”

    Miriam turned this new information over in her mind. It would explain why he was so bloodied and bruised. It would explain the scared look in his eyes. He had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She could feel it in her heart. He had to be telling the truth.

    “Arvel,” she said. “I believe you.”

    Arvel only smiled crookedly in response, and reached for her hand once more.

    “But who attacked you? Who was it that killed Merle, if not you?”

    “That I can’t say.” He began to absently play with her fingers. “I never saw his face. I can only assume that after he knocked me out he went back and finished Merle off. I wish I knew what his motives were - why he killed Merle, but not me. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to get rid of me, too?”

    It did sound odd. Who would want to leave a witness alive? Unless he wanted to frame him - but that didn’t give Miriam any clues as to who would do such a thing. Her father didn’t have enemies. He was on good terms with all the neighboring lands. Could it be an insider?

    “We need to figure out who did this and why.”

    “I agree, Love, but we don’t have a lot of time. The sentence has already been given. And I can’t go anywhere.”

    “I’ll figure it out. I promise,” Miriam said. She lifted his hand and held it to her lips. Arvel did the same with hers.

    “Thank you for believing in me, m’lady.”

    Miriam reluctantly rose and crept out of the dungeon, back past the still-sleeping sentries. She knew exactly where she would look first. Merle’s chambers. She hoped that they would be yet-untouched.

    She felt her way through the dark corridors of the castle. Miriam was certain now that Arvel was not to be blamed. No, there was someone else tangled up in all of this. She thought briefly to her curse. If she really had one. But that theory could not account for a masked murderer. The urgency to get to the bottom of it quickened her pace.

    When she approached the door to Merle’s chambers, she tried the handle. It was locked.

    “Drat,” she cursed under her breath. Where could she get a key without waking anyone? The only one she could think of was in Lancil’s room. Perhaps she could slip in and snatch it without disturbing him.

    It wasn’t far to Lancil’s quarters. She cracked the door a moment, holding her breath.

    The room was dark. She could make out the silhouette of her brother in his bed against the moonlight, covers bunched up here and there. A few of his pillows were closer to the foot of the bed than to his head, and one was on the floor. She smiled to herself. He had never been able to keep his bed tidy.

    Miriam let out her breath and entered. She moved immediately to the desk by the window. Rummaging through drawers, she found Lancil’s assortment of personal items. She found parchment, quills, and ink. She found a few medals and the family crest. She even found a few of the small weapons he’d had since childhood. But where were his keys?

    “Miriam, what are you doing?” Miriam started and whipped around to see her brother standing in the doorway, a confused expression on his face.

    Miriam was at a loss for words. She stole a glance at the bed. The moonlight trickling in from the window showed that what she had thought was her sleeping brother had, in fact, only been his messy blankets.

    “I-” was all she could say.

    “Come now, dear sister, what’s wrong?” her brother said coming into the room.

    She thought for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her brother for his keys, right? She couldn’t tell him why. The consequences would not be in her favor if anyone learned she had slipped into the dungeon without permission. Even from her brother.

    “Lancil, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about Merle and wanted to inspect his room. Perhaps find something to remember him by...but the door was locked, and I knew you would have a key. I didn’t want to wake you - why are you up?”

    Lancil laughed a little and smiled, “Oh, we are so alike. I couldn’t sleep either! I’ve been wandering around, trying to digest all that’s happened, as well.” He stepped forward and wrapped her up in a hug. Miriam relaxed a little. It was good to have a brother who looked out for her.

    “Here,” he said. “We’ll go together.” He grinned wider as the keys fell into the palm of her hands, and she smiled back up at him.

    Returning to the locked door, Miriam put the key into the hole and twisted until she heard the distinctive click. She swung the door open and they entered the dark room.

    Everything was as it had been. No one had touched it since...since before. Miriam crept in and looked around as Lancil lit a small candle. The flickering light cast dancing shadows over the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. She turned, but found only the flickering light playing with a coat hung in the corner of the room. For a moment, she was overcome with emotion. It was far too easy to imagine Merle in here, among all his things. Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to relax and set her mind to her task, deciding to start with Merle’s desk.

    “Would you like me to look with you?” Lancil asked quietly, stepping forward.

    “No, no thank you. If you would like to help me, I would suggest you search the closet. If you find something I could keep, let me know.

    Her brother stood there a moment. “Okay,” was all he said. He stepped into the closet and Miriam returned to the desk. She appreciated his offer to help her work through Merle’s things, but she needed to be left alone.

    The contents of Merle’s desk were not unlike Lancil’s. The drawers contained a small assortment of weapons, tools for writing, and a few small mementos. Miriam’s eyes came to rest on the small ring nestled in the back corner of one of the less organized drawers. Her vision blurred a little as she picked it up and examined it.

    It was a simple ring carved from wood, the jewel not a terribly valuable one. It was crudely cut, but had been set into the ring with the utmost care, so that it could not fall off. This ring had been meant for her. Miriam could feel it. But had they not only been friends? She slipped it onto her hand, next to the one from Arvel, and continued her search for answers.

    In the bottom drawer, Miriam’s fingers found the spine of a small book. She picked it up and opened it. It was a diary. The writing was definitely Merle’s. If nothing else could help her maybe this could. She opened to a page near the end. It was blank. Miriam ran her hand over it for a moment before thumbing back to before the entries ended. What she found surprised her.

    Today, the lady Miriam walked with me. It was difficult to keep silent as she chattered on in the way that she does so often with me. I wanted so badly to tell her, but she was going on about Arvel. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not when she clearly preferred him. I know I should not be thinking about this. Our courtship ended long ago, and if I had had stronger feelings for her then, I could have acted on them. But not now. Now she has a man, and I no prospects. Life is odd that way...now that I feel for her more deeply than ever, she is engaged to another. But I am happy for her nonetheless. I am happy that she is happy. And I am honored that they would choose me to be the best man. Arvel is good. And he can provide for her better than I ever could have.

    But I digress. She told me of something odd...she confided in me that she feels she is cursed. I thought it silly until she explained herself. Now I wonder…losing almost every suitor you’ve ever had is not a normal occurrence. I suspect foul play. I do not believe she is cursed, but I should like to know why so many good men have disappeared or met ill ends. Something is definitely missing from this picture. I intend to find out what it is before it hurts her, too. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her...especially if there was something I could do to prevent it.

    “Have you found anything?” Miriam started as Lancil put his hand on her shoulder and leaned over to look. She shut the book and tucked it under her arm.

    “Yes, I have. Lancil...he loved me...see this ring? He’d kept it all along. I don’t know when he made it, but it must have cost him dearly. It must have been just before Arvel came. And all this time I had thought there was never anything but friendliness between us…”

    “I’m very sorry to hear that...he was a good man. A great help to this house as well. What else did you find?” Lancil reached for the book under her arm.

    Miriam instinctively moved it out of his reach. This was something she did not want to share.    “Just one of his favorite books.” She replied.

    Her brother stared at the book. But he made no move to take it from her this time. Miriam stood just as still, trying to read the expression in his eyes. Had he caught a glimpse of the handwriting? Did he know what it was? Surely he couldn’t. Still, Miriam became a little wary.

    “Well, Brother, I believe I have found what I came here for. I think I’ll retire for the night now. Thank you for helping me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

    “Yes. Get some sleep, Miriam. Tomorrow will be hard for you...I’m sorry it’s turned out this way. You should not attend the execution if you do not wish to. I will see to it that justice is met. But do not needlessly distress yourself. Leave it to me.”

    “Thank you, Lancil.” Miriam turned to leave, and Lancil handed her the candle, eyes still flitting to the book under her arm occasionally. What exactly did he know about this book? Miriam could not tell from his face. But she felt a sudden desire to keep it well-hidden. Perhaps no one should know of its contents but her. She nodded to her brother and turned on her heel in the direction of her room. She didn’t dare look back, but after a moment she could hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor in the direction of his own chambers.

    Once in her own room again, Miriam opened the book and found the page she had been reading. She absently played with the rings on her fingers as she found her place again. She turned to the next page. The date was a day later. Just a day before...

    I think I’ve figured it out. I’ve a feeling both Arvel and Miriam are in danger. I read through some of the household’s more recent yearly records, and all of Miriam’s suitors have met very suspicious ends. Someone is doing this. All the mysterious illnesses, the disappearances, the convenient calls to war. Someone does not want Miriam to marry. What I can’t fathom is why. Or who. I’m not certain either that this means Miriam is in any immediate danger, but I don’t want to wait to find out. I have spoken with Lancil about this, and he has promised to help me get to the bottom of it. I pray in the meantime that nothing befalls her. Or Arvel. Hopefully we can find the culprit and see that he is suitably dealt with.

    She wasn’t cursed? No, of course not! This made so much more sense! This had to be the reason behind it all! But the thought of someone so obsessed with her and her suitors struck a chord of fear in her. Miriam turned the page eagerly, nearly tearing it in the process. Her heart skipped a beat when she beheld only blank pages. Of course she should have expected it. Looking at the date of what she had just read, it would make sense that that was the last. But she was disappointed that there was no more. Had he been able to discover who it was? How could she find out? She could ask Lancil. He had been able to talk to him before…

    But that look on Lancil’s face when she found the book...perhaps she didn’t want to ask him. The thought occurred to her that maybe her brother had something he was hiding as well. But that would make no sense. Lancil was good and kind and loving, and understanding. He was the best protector she could have had growing up. He couldn’t possibly be behind this! Could he?

    Miriam began to pace about the room. She could ask Arvel what he knew, provided she could slip back into the dungeons without being seen. But he had been away on business clear up until that night. He had told her himself. How would he possibly have any knowledge of this when Merle had only figured it out a few days ago? Still, who else could she turn to? She was running out of time. She stole a glance out her window before resuming her pacing. It must be the early hours of the morning by now. Dawn would come all too soon. If only Merle could speak to her himself…

    Before she quite realized what she was doing she found her feet carrying her back down to the dungeons. As she approached the entrance, she stopped and peered cautiously around the corner.

    The guards had changed, and they were not conveniently asleep.

    What could she do? She couldn’t draw attention to herself. Suddenly she could hear footsteps coming. Her heart rate quickened. She had to hide now.

    Miriam frantically looked around. Her eyes found a shadowed niche in the corner of the hall, and she threw herself into it as quickly and quietly as possible, praying this would be enough cover. She crouched down, trying to make herself as small as she could.

    A tall figure rounded the corner at the other end of the corridor. Much to her relief, he carried no candle.

    For as big a castle as this was, it was rather surprising how often Miriam had run into Lancil this evening.

III

    Her brother passed by her, oblivious to her presence, and Miriam relaxed just a little. He entered the room where the guards were sitting at the table, torchlight illuminating their game of cards.

    “I’d like to visit the prisoner, please,” he said to the guards as they looked up. One of them got up and went into the dark corridor behind him. He emerged minutes later, leading a disheveled Arvel by the arm, who squinted in the torchlight. Lancil sat down at the table and the other guard stood. Arvel was dumped on the other chair, flanked on either side by the sentries. The two men glared at each other a moment.

    “I will speak with him alone. You two may wait outside at the foot of the stairs. He won’t run.” The guards looked at Lancil, then at each other. After a moment, they saluted and turned in Miriam’s direction. Miriam drew back, pressing herself against the wall, careful to stay out of the light. Luckily the guards passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. As soon as they rounded the corner and were out of sight, Miriam repositioned herself so she could see again.

    There they sat, boring holes into each other across the table. Neither moved. All was silent. Arvel was the first to speak.

    “I didn’t do it, you know.”

    Lancil was quiet. The look in his eyes was of pure hatred and disgust.

    “The evidence stacks up against you, Arvel. You were in the garden. And you were a damn bloody mess at that. You even tried to run. What do you expect me to think? That you weren’t involved in what happened to him? You can drop your innocent act - you’ve already had your trial, and your sentence has been declared.”

    “My trial was a joke, and you know it, Lancil! I was permitted to say not two words in there! That is unjust. I could not speak for myself; I was not given the chance!” Arvel stood and pounded his fists on the table. His eyes were fiery, which only added to his wild look. “I do not understand why you would conduct such a fixed trial, but it is against the laws here. Your father was not even present! He is the lord of this house - not you - and he was supposed to preside over the affair - not you.”

    Lancil said nothing at first. Only continued to glare up at the man standing across the table. Miriam had never seen such anger in her brother’s eyes before. Or in her beloved’s for that matter.

Finally, he said, “My father is too old and ill to conduct the affairs of this house anymore. The business of my family thus falls to me. If you cannot abide by my rule, that is your problem, not mine. Whether you truly did it or not, it doesn’t matter now. You’ve been declared guilty and there is no other who could prove you otherwise.”

    “As I told you before,” Arvel gritted through his teeth, “there was someone else in the garden. I was trying to stop him. I even got him on the arm. But he overpowered me. I am not the one you should condemn. You should look for whomever I gave that cut to. Then my story would be proven and you would have your culprit! But you are quick to judge. Has it occurred to you that he could have gotten away?”

    “Likely story, but you have no witnesses. How can you expect me to believe a tale you’ve probably fabricated to try and save your sorry hide?” Lancil was showing a side of himself Miriam had never seen before. His eyes were cold and hard, and his hands were clenched into fists. The veins in his neck bulged. He was frightening to behold. Was this really her brother?

    “If Merle could speak, he-”

    “-He would what? Merle is dead, Arvel! My little sister’s best friend is dead, and you were the only other person in the garden that morning looking like such a mess! What do you expect me to believe!?”

    Now both men were standing, leaning so far over the table they were nearly nose to nose.

    Arvel stepped back. Sat back down. He clasped his hands together on the table in front of him and looked up at Lancil. “Believe what you will, Brother-in-Law, but if you had had guards posted there like you should have, I doubt you would now be so sorely mistaken. Where were they, anyway? Do you let your sentries go drinking in the middle of the night? What kind of captain does that make you?”

    Lancil’s eyes flashed. “Guards!” he shouted, and the sentries waiting by the stairs came running. Miriam had only barely made herself invisible when they came into view. She didn’t dare move, but she could hear from inside the room a shuffling of feet and a few grunts. Then she heard a solid thwump and an “oof,” followed by a gasp for breath.

    “Never question my authority again,” came Lancil’s voice. It was steady, but only barely. Underneath it all, Miriam could tell he was pouring all his strength into staying in control.

    “I won’t have to for long, at the rate things are going, here,” came the terse reply between huffs.

    Miriam ventured a peek into the room again. She could see the guards ushering a doubled-over Arvel back into the hole behind them, and Lancil turned to leave. She hid herself once more, trying to calm her hammering heart.

    “You are a threat to my sister, Arvel,” her brother called back, his voice terrifyingly close to her hiding place. “I do not tolerate threats. I do what I must to protect her. To keep her safe. A killer like you could never understand that.”

    There was no reply. Suddenly, Lancil was right in front of her. She squeezed as far back into her niche as she could, and didn’t breathe. Her brother was walking away, in the direction of the stairs. As he turned the corner, he looked back. But for the shadows covering her, Miriam would have been certain he was staring right at her. And indeed, it did seem he was trying to make out a shape. Miriam didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She wished her niche could be just a little deeper. After what felt like years, Lancil turned away and disappeared around the corner.

    Miriam waited until she was certain he would be long gone. She risked a look into the room. The guards had returned to their game of cards, blissfully unaware of what had just transpired at their table, or else choosing to turn a blind eye to it. Miriam silently slid herself out of her hiding place and crept away. Once she hit the foot of the stairs, she set off at a dead run.

    What she had just witnessed had shaken her. She still believed Arvel was innocent. But she was no longer so certain about her brother. He had been unnecessarily cold. And he had not given Arvel a fair trial? That didn’t sound like Lancil. He had always been an advocate for justice. He had always believed in being fair. But if he had not allowed Arvel to defend himself, that could only mean he had something to hide. Miriam didn’t want to entertain the notion, but it kept coming back, clearer and clearer, the more she tried to come up with other possibilities.

    What if Lancil was the killer?

    Miriam flew into her room, shut the door and and jumped into her bed. No matter what she tried she couldn’t slow down her breathing. She buried herself in her covers and tried to calm down. Tried to reason with herself. Her brother couldn’t possibly be the killer, could he? Murderers were bad people. Lancil was good. He’d always supported her, and protected her, and looked out for her. He couldn’t be a murderer! He wasn’t lunatic. He wasn’t mean. He was her brother.

    Miriam sat up after a while, and took a deep, shuddering breath. She knew how to prove her brother hadn’t killed her friend. She would look for the cut. Arvel had said he had given the attacker a cut on his arm. If Lancil didn’t have the wound, then he would be as innocent as Arvel. But when could she confirm this? Arvel was to be hanged at dawn. That could only be a few hours away at most. And if Lancil didn’t have the cut on his arm, then who did? And how would she find him?

    This was beginning to feel insurmountable. Even if she could search every man in the castle, she might not find a cut. But she could start with her brother. She couldn’t risk it now, though. He would get suspicious. Miriam cast her thoughts back to Merle’s room. The way he had looked at the book had set her on edge. And as much as she wished to deny it, that only strengthened the possibility that he was behind the murder. She had already told him she was going to bed. And it was clear he still wasn’t asleep either. The only time she could feasibly see him again was at dawn - at the execution.

    Miriam felt sick with apprehension.

    She would have to wait.

IV

    Miriam woke with a start. Watery light was filtering in through her window. Her heart jumped up to her throat as she flung herself out of her bed, the open diary in her lap flying to the floor in the process. She picked it up and tossed it on her vanity on her way to the door.

    Was she too late?

    Miriam grabbed the doorknob and pulled. Her eyes grew wide with fear.

    It was locked.

    Who would have thought it necessary to lock her door? And on the day of the-

    Miriam felt as though the floor under her feet had crumbled away. She reached out for the nearest table to try and steady herself, and ended up knocking over a little wooden dog Lancil had once carved for her. She stared blankly at the figurine on the floor, trying to get her mind to work again. The only person who would have known she had been wandering last night was also one of the only people with keys.

    Miriam tried not to retch. She didn’t need to look for a wound anymore. She wanted desperately to believe otherwise, but the truth was as clear as the dreadful daylight that was beginning to fill her room. Lancil was responsible. He had killed Merle, and now he was framing Arvel for it. But why?

    Miriam needed to get down there now. She prayed she wasn’t already too late. He must have locked the door to ensure she wouldn’t be present for the hanging. Miriam thought back to the scene in the dungeon. Perhaps he had seen her there, hiding. If he had, it would explain why she was locked in. It would also prove he was guilty.

    Miriam shook the doorknob again. She pounded. She called for help. But she could hear no one on the other side. She looked around her room for something she could use to get the door open. If only she had a set of keys of her own. Nothing looked promising. She sat back against the door and put her head in her hands, fighting panic.

    Then her stomach fluttered. At her fingertips, she could feel the end of one of the pins holding her hair back. she pulled it out and compared the size of the pin with the keyhole. She was no lock picker, but it would have to do.

    Miriam’s untrained fingers fumbled. She dropped the pin twice before she found the first notch. She forced herself to breathe evenly and slowly worked the pin until she heard a sharp click. She tested the knob. It turned. Miriam shoved the pin back into her hair and flew out into the hall.

    She dashed through the halls of the house. It all seemed too quiet. Anyone that was up would either be down in the kitchens or out at the gallows. Or at least she hoped that they’d still be there. Miriam reached the nearest exit and flung herself out into the chilly air. There was no breeze, but her hair whipped behind her as she ran. She rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt behind a surprisingly large gathering of people. Apparently word had spread that the man engaged to the lady of the house was to be hanged today. She moved to try and get a better look.

    At the front of the crowd stood the gallows. Upon it was a man, already prepared, a course bag thrown over his head. Beside him, a few paces to one side was the executioner. On the other side was Lancil. Miriam’s heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst.

    “It pains me to have to declare this man whom I have so long considered a brother guilty of these crimes, but justice must be met. Arvel of Darton has been found guilty of resisting arrest and the murder of Merle of Marbury. For these crimes, the sentence is death by hanging,” Lancil’s voice rang across the large courtyard as he read the verdict from a roll of parchment and the executioner moved across the platform to stand beside a lever.

    Miriam’s breath caught in her throat. She plunged into the crowd, pushing everyone out of her way. As she got closer, she started shouting.

    “Stop! Stop it! Don’t!” Her blood was roaring in her ears, making it hard to hear her own voice. “Don’t kill him! He’s innocent!”

    She reached the front of the crowd just as the executioner reached for the lever. Before she could even think, she flew up the steps and latched onto the hooded figure. Taken by surprise, the executioner stumbled and fell back. Miriam disentangled herself from the man and stood up to face her brother. Lancil’s face wore a look of shock and confusion, but his eyes spoke differently. In his eyes, she could see seething anger.

    “M-Miriam! What are you doing here? I thought you did not want to attend the execution!”

    “I never said that, Lancil!” Miriam spat the words through trembling lips.

    “Miriam?” Miriam stole a glance behind her to see Arvel, covered head turned in her direction. “Miriam, is that you?” His voice was tense with fear, but heavy with relief.

    “Lancil, stop this lunacy now!” Miriam cried, so that the whole crowd could hear. “Arvel is an innocent man, and you know it!”

    There were whispers and murmurs throughout the throng of people below as Lancil’s eyes darted between her and the prisoner behind her.

    “I don’t know what you mean, Miriam,” he replied in a carefully controlled voice. “I know your grief must be great, but surely you must see that a dangerous man such as he cannot be allowed to live among us!”

    “I know perfectly well what I mean! And I think you of all people should understand that! I had to break out of my own bedroom this morning just to be here! Don’t tell me you know nothing of that!”

    Lancil’s eyes flashed, and the boiling anger returned to them. So it was true. He had locked her in, in an attempt to keep her away long enough to see this through.

    “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I will see to it that whoever it was that locked your-”

    “-Do not lie to me!” Miriam shouted. “This whole time it’s been you, hasn’t it? You have been getting rid of all the men who dare to come near me! You are the curse!” Try as she might, she could not keep a few tears from escaping her lids.

    “Miriam, that’s positively absurd! Don’t be ridiculous! Why on earth would I want to keep you from getting married?” he shot back, taking a step toward her.

    “You tell me, Brother. That is something you yourself will need to explain. But I heard the way you spoke to Arvel last night. You never even gave him a fair trial!”

    At this the crowd gasped and the murmuring increased.

    “You hold your tongue,” he said through clenched teeth as he closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the wrist. Miriam’s arm burned under his grip, but she held her ground and reached for his sleeve. With some effort she ripped it away to expose a tightly bandaged arm, the white linens stained with a long, slightly curved bloom of reddish-brown.

    The crowd’s murmuring became a dull roar.

    “See?” she shouted. “Arvel himself told me he was attacked by a masked man in the garden that night. He told me he cut his attacker’s arm before he was knocked unconscious. He told you this as well, if I remember correctly.” Miriam wrenched her arm from her brother’s grasp and stared defiantly into his hard eyes. These were not the eyes of the brother she had grown up with. There was no love in them now. Only anger. Anger and...fear?

    Behind them, Arvel was shouting and struggling to break free of his bonds.

    “Merle asked you about it, didn’t he?” she said quietly so that only Lancil could hear. “He asked you if you knew anything about my suitors. He caught on and you killed him so that you wouldn’t be discovered.”

    Lancil was trembling with fury, now. His face was a bright red, and fast approaching an even deeper shade. The crowd continued its whispering below them.

    “Lancil, I cannot call you my brother anymore,” Miriam continued, raising her voice so all could hear once more. “You are a monster. And the way you have carried yourself here and now only proves to me that you cannot deny my claims.” She was crying freely now. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. All her life she had looked up to this man, and now, all of a sudden, she almost couldn’t even look at him.

    Lancil said nothing. He stood there, trembling and silent. Then quicker than lightning, he lunged forward and reached past her. Miriam turned around just in time to see him pull the lever.

    The people below gasped. It felt like the world had stopped. Miriam watched the trap door release and Arvel started as he began to fall. She opened her mouth to scream, but whether she made a sound or not, she could not tell. She took a step toward the rope before being jerked back by a strong hand. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the shape of her brother dragging her away, off of the platform, down the steps, and into the castle.

    The corridors were still very dark. What little light that trickled in through the windows told Miriam she was being taken up to Lancil’s room. Once they reached his room, Lancil threw her onto the still-unmade bed, and closed and locked the door. Taking a moment to move a table and some chairs in front of it, he then walked over to his armoire and opened it up. Miriam tried to move, but felt paralyzed. Her body and brain couldn’t keep up with each other, and everything was spinning. He had just killed Arvel. Her brother had just killed Arvel. Lancil turned back around to face her with a black shape in one hand and a glinting blade in the other. His eyes had a half-crazed look to them now, and the veins in his temple were bulging. His whole body continued to quiver.

    “Yes, dear sister. Yes, I am the killer. Yes, I have gone to great lengths to get rid of your suitors. But do you not understand why? I do it because I love you! You are my sister, and I am supposed to protect you! Those men - they may be good men, but they will never be good enough for you - never! No one can have you! No one is worthy!”

    He took a few steps toward the bed, and Miriam fought to control her breathing. She tried to speak, but no sound came from her mouth.

    “See this?” he asked, holding up the black cloth. “With this I have done things I am not proud of. But I do it all for your sake, Miriam. I have done my best to protect you from men that will not treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I can put on this mask and do things…” Lancil’s voice trailed off, as he studied the cloth with wild eyes. “...do things I cannot otherwise bring myself to do usually.” His breath rattled as his eyes widened. “It gives me power. I can become someone else so that I don’t have to feel guilty about what I have to do to keep you untainted. I can kill those unworthy bastards and still be worthy of your love.”

    Miriam felt sick. She had always seen her brother as her level-headed guide, but this...this was genuine madness! He had completely snapped! He took another couple of steps closer. Miriam fought to find her voice.

    “You - you killed my best friend and my betrothed. How can I love someone who has done such monstrous things!? I don’t think I can stand to see your face ever again!”

    Lancil’s features softened for a moment. A glimmer of sadness crossed his face, and he looked away from her, as if he could no longer bear to meet her gaze. He studied the mask and the knife in his hands, breathing becoming sharper.

    “If you cannot love me anymore, then all I have done for you is pointless. If you will not let me love you...” Lancil approached the bed, dropping the mask on the floor and raising the knife in his hand. “...then I can’t let anyone else love you…” Miriam couldn’t move. She could vaguely hear the sound of several pounding fists at the door. But it was drowned out by the sound of her hammering heart.

    “At least this way...I won’t have to worry about anyone thinking they can have you after I’m gone,” Lancil said. His face had drained of color and emotion alike, and he moved to grip his knife with both hands. His eyes glistened as they fixed on her, studying her closely and yet not at all. All Miriam could do was close her eyes. This was it, then.

    She unsuccessfully bit back a scream. Suddenly, a spot on her shoulder was on fire. Miriam felt Lancil pull the blade out and this time she could not hold back her cry. It hurt so much! The blackness behind her closed lids was speckled with spots of all sorts of bright colors. They danced before her eyes, flaring with each painful pulse of her heartbeat. Then the pain erupted in another spot, not far from the first. The pain! Why wouldn’t the pain stop?

    The banging and shouting increased outside, crescendoing until it sounded like it was right in the room with them. Miriam opened her eyes with great effort to see several large hands grab Lancil and his blood-stained knife and pull him away, down to the ground. More people were streaming into the room. There was so much shouting! But everything sounded fuzzy, and far away. Her shoulder hurt more than anything she had ever felt before. Miriam wanted nothing more than to get out of here. To go somewhere quiet, where she could just sleep...and maybe never wake up…

    She willed herself to move and found the ground. Concentrating all her efforts on putting one foot in front of the other, she tried to ignore the ringing sound in her ears, and fought the darkness that was creeping in around the edges of her vision. It was all too much. Miriam looked down at where he brother was struggling to break free of the men pinning him to the ground. He was shouting, too. Why did everybody have to shout in this tiny, tiny room? Miriam brought a hand to her head and felt herself collapse. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the ground when she hit it.

    Only she didn’t. Before she hit the floor, she felt something akin to arms wrapping around her.

    “...Merle?” she breathed. Everything was becoming very hazy.

    A raspy voice hovered above her. “Miriam! Stay with me! Breathe slowly, Miriam!”

    Miriam’s eyes flew open. Through the cloudiness, she could make out a set of worried eyes, and a bruised and bloodied face surrounding them. Merle? But wasn’t he dead, too? Was she dead, now?

    The name nearly formed on her lips again. Then everything went blissfully quiet, and there was nothing but peaceful darkness.

V

    Miriam could hear muffled voices in the distance. She tried to open her eyes, but it was too bright. The darkness was so much nicer. Her head throbbed a little as the voices gradually became clearer. She became aware of a sharp throb in her shoulder.

    “She’s coming to! Quick! Get some water!”

    “Oh, thank heavens!”

    “I was beginning to worry she’d never wake up!”

    Miriam screwed her face, wanting nothing more than to block out the voices. But then one voice captured her attention.

    “...Miriam? Can you hear me?” It sounded sandpapery and tired, but it was familiar. Miriam forced her eyes open and squinted in the daylight pouring in from the window. As things came into focus, she recognized her bedroom. There were people gathered around the bed and off in the corners of the room.

    “Miriam!” came the voice from right beside her. She turned her head to look at the owner and burst into tears.

    She shot up in her bed, but was overcome by a wave of dizziness. She laid back down, trying to convince herself she really was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

    “Arvel! Arvel! I-Arvel! You were dead! I saw you! You died-”

    “-No, Miriam, it’s okay. I’m okay. We’re fine. It’s all over now,” Arvel croaked. He was seated - or rather slumped - in a soft chair next to her bedside. His face had been cleaned up a little, and his hair looked as though someone had hastily dragged a comb through it a few times before giving up. But he was there! He was really there! He looked haggard and exhausted, but it was him! She examined his face a moment before moving down to the bruised ring around his neck. “How did you…”

    Arvel chuckled weakly, reaching up to massage the area. “I had some help from some quick-thinking people. Your confrontation caused quite a stir. Were it not for the fact that Lancil did it himself and then dragged you away, I probably wouldn’t be here. I was very lucky nothing broke…” he looked away, no doubt reliving the moment. Miriam could only imagine how terrifying it must have been. She swallowed hard, absently reaching up to her own neck.

    “The executioner was actually the first to act. I owe him my life...but I also owe it to you.” He looked back up at her, and took one of her hands in his. “I don’t know how you managed, but you figured it all out in one night. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, Miriam.”

    “But you should be resting, then! You’re hurt! You’re exhausted! You-”

    “I can wait,” he cut in. “I needed to make sure you were okay first. I feared we were going to lose you…I couldn’t rest until I knew you were well and safe.” Each word sounded like it took a great deal of effort to get out.

    “Well, I’m fine now,” Miriam replied, choosing to ignore that pain in her shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself, too!”

    “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be okay. You lost a lot of blood. You were unconscious a long time. Even if I’d tried to rest, I would have simply been tossing and turning, wondering if you were still breathing! He came really close to…”

    Suddenly the memory of all that had transpired came rushing back, adding to the pounding in her head. She shuddered at the memory of her brother, knife poised above her, eyes wild and distant, which made her shoulder throb anew.

    “Arvel, where is my brother?”

    “Don’t worry yourself too much, Love. He’s being held in the dungeon under heavy guard until we decide what to do with him. I’ll bet even now he’s down there shouting nonsense...Miriam - I’m very sorry...no one could have guessed how truly twisted he was. Lancil was always so cool and controlled. I still can’t believe he snapped like that. But he’s as under control as we can get him now.

    Miriam thought back to the things he had said to her. It was rather hard to wrap her head around it all. He had killed so many innocent people. He had told her he loved her. Then he had tried to kill her, too.

    “What is to be done with him?” she asked, trying one more time to sit up.

    “Nothing without your permission. I give you my word,” Arvel responded, reassuring her with a squeeze to the hand. His other hand reached down to help her to a sitting position. “He is raving mad. He is a murderer. But he is still your brother. Ultimately, it is up to you. We will give him a fair trial, to be sure. But it is your decision to make. I will enforce whatever conclusion you come to.” He pulled her hand close and kissed it. Miriam did not miss the pained look that crossed his face when he noticed Merle’s ring next to his.

Miriam let it all sink in. It was not going to be an easy decision. Despite all the horrible things Lancil had done, he was still her brother. Deep down, she knew that she still loved some part of him. Whatever part of him that was not deranged, at least.

“But for now, Let us just take a moment to catch our breath, shall we, Love?”

    Arvel leaned over and gingerly wrapped her in a hug. She leaned into him, letting out a tired sigh. At least she still had him. He buried his face in her hair and she closed her eyes.

    What a night.