Chapter 21 - Lance - A Lot of Blood

                                    

                                          
Lena leads me through the halls and down into the dungeons below the Guard House, which is in complete disarray. Officers are yelling at men to get to their posts, the sound of rushing footsteps a constant clatter. When she came into the room two hours ago saying that there was another attempt on the Prince's life, I knew that it was another message from Will. He's got more people in his service within the castle than we can count. If he wants something done, someone killed, then he can do it.
I searched my sister's rooms for an hour looking through the scene. They not only burned most of her rooms but somehow hung a body from the four bedposts, ropes holding the four limbs to a different post. I don't know whose body it was, as their face was left in ribbons. They had long horizontal cuts all across the front part of their body, and he was stripped to his trousers. No sign of whether they were a guard or a servant. He bled out all over the bed, no trail of blood marking if and where they might've dragged him in from. But there wasn't evidence at all of him being forced, which either means he was either killed somewhere else, or he trusted the two women enough to follow them in.
And that's the other thing. Though his body was sliced like a loaf of bread, I still found that he had been stabbed between his fourth and fifth rib, directly into his heart. With all the blood and its sharp tang filling the air, most guards couldn't last longer than a few minutes before needing to walk out. The priest they brought in hurled in the corner before reciting his prayers. Vladimir was the only one who stayed behind while the others dragged the still living suspect to the dungeons. He has the strongest stomach in the group it seems. 
We cut the body down ourselves and stared at it, trying to pin the form to a name. A few more guards retched, one fainted and had to be hauled out. I'm used to the feeling of blood on my hands, but I had to hold my breath and clench my own stomach as I felt the hole in his side where he'd been stabbed. I didn't find any shards or pieces of a possible weapon in his flesh, but I did find the knife they used lodged in the crack of the linen chair. It was purposely placed so that if anyone sat down in it, they'd find themselves with a blade up their ass. 
These women have a dark sense of humor. 
While Vlad kept trying to put the pieces of the face together to identify the man, I inspected the dead girl's body. She wore plain loose pants and shirt, nothing in her pockets or the seams, and no mark on her skin telling of who she may belong to. My sister didn't bother to save her based on the fact that there was a bone protruding from the back of her neck. The skin is still intact, but you don't need it to be sticking out to know that it's broken.
I scoured the rest of the rooms, only finding the remnants of a homemade explosive, more rope, a few more hidden knives, and everything in the sitting room burned. I didn't, however, miss the storage cabinet which bore evidence of my sister's rage. The only reason why I know it was her and not someone else, is by the depth of the scars. I smirk at what the Prince's reaction might've been.
After I finished, I walked back into the bedroom to find the body being loaded onto a wooden board and covered with a white sheet. "Who was it?"
"Rex," Vlad answered, wiping his hands with a linen towel. "He was a guard tasked with guarding the Prince's chambers this morning, and the one who was posted outside Darius's door the night his room was ransacked."
A good man, then. Innocent and now dead. "Has anyone checked the rooms to see if they may have done more damage?"
"No, but I'll get up there right now and search it myself. You should head to the dungeons. They'll be questioning her."
"Alright. Send word if you find something."
"Will do." He turned right toward the stairs and I watched him go with a handful of castle guards. I hadn't realized at the time, but that was the first time someone treated me normally in the castle. Not including the Queen. Everyone's been hostile and crude, much like Aillard. The little show of consideration has me giving a lot of respect to him.
Lena was waiting out by the tower's entrance, though her face was several shades paler. She must've seen the body being carried out. She said nothing as she led me to the dark stairway. I told her to return to the Queen, assuring her that I could go the rest of the way on my own. I figured she'd already seen enough for the day and descended the stairs, following the sound of Garrison's voice echoing against the walls. 
The first level has several cells lining the narrow hallways, some with bodies, others with nothing but stench to fill them. I continue onto the lower levels, finding a second like the first, and then the third with doors rather than bars. Winston's ginger hair shines in the torchlight and I walk toward him and the others standing outside an open metal door. None of them look happy, and by the rasp of Garrison's voice, he's walking severely close to the edge.
They say nothing as I walk through the door, finding the woman tied to a chair in the center of the room and Garrison pacing in front of her. She's younger than forty, maybe mid-thirties. She wears the same clothes as the other, with no sign of marking on her skin from what I can see. There's a blooming red mark on one of her cheeks, a swollen and darkened eye, a crooked nose, and the other half of her face drenched in blood leaking from a cut on her head.
My sister had some pent-up anger to release, it seems.