the elderly steward announced unnecessarily.What else could a stab wound in the back mean but murder? It would hardly be self-inflicted. The fact that Malcolm, the son of Bodhe, prince of the House of Moray, lay stretched on the floor of his bedchamber with the blood still seeping across his white linen nightshirt did not need a fertile imagination to conjure an explanation of what had befallen the young man.The corpse lay facedown on the wooden floorboards, clad in nothing else but the shirt, which meant that he had just left his bed to greet his killer. A bloodstained knife had fallen nearby, apparently dropped by the assassin in his haste to be gone.MacBeth, son of Findlay, the Mdr-mhaor or petty king of Moray, which was one of the seven great provincial kingdoms of Alba, answering to no man except the High King, whose capital was south in Sgain, stared down with a grim face. Indeed, this was his castle, and the dead man was his wife’s brother. He stood with a cloak wrapped around his shoulders to protect him from the night chill.
What do You think about An Ensuing Evil And Others?
