“Shema has held out longer than all before him in not taking any Maid to his bed, but he has a reason.” Brian copied Slate’s stance for the third time.

“Could you please quit doing that?” Slate was becoming annoyed.

“*Slate*…” Chris Alan warned.

“He’s annoying me!”

“You are very big and strong. I only wish to be as big as you,” Brian said as looked at Slate’s muscles. Slate took the compliment.

“Back to the point: what is Shema’s reason for not joining with any Maid he chooses?” Chris Alan probed.

“He awaits a great mission. If he is successful, then the one you call Callista has promised that she herself will take his virginity.” Brian tried to touch Slate’s arm.

“He may not survive that encounter.” Autumn scoffed.

“Remember, Callista can empower him to keep up if she has to,” Chris Alan said dryly. “It would be a night for him to remember, all right: in his mind, one well worth waiting for. She is the Mistress; her acolytes, talented as they are, have nothing on *her* skills.”

“OK, fine, but that still doesn’t tell us who killed the King and how.” Slate decided to pace, hoping that Brian wouldn’t follow his example. Thankfully, he was right.

“I’ll have Raphael take tissue samples for a full workup,” said Chris Alan. “I’m thinking poison.”

“You heard Brian; Shema never went near the King or anything that belonged to him,” Slate reminded them.

“He may not be the killer; he could have planned the deed without carrying it out.” Chris Alan sighed as Raphael transitioned and got to work. “I dislike asking this, Prince Brian, but I must. Who *else* had regular access to King Marcus?”

“Myself, these elders, my brothers and sisters, the Queen, the Queen Mother, the King’s servants, the King’s hand-picked guards, and my bride to be Alphia,” Brian replied.

“That gives us far too many possibilities,” Autumn exclaimed.

“All of these had pledged fealty to the King and to the Way that Bakbuk and you taught us,” Brian pointed out. “They would have gained nothing by the King’s death, or mine.”

“And so far, the only ones we know who *would* are Shema and whatever allies he has,” said Chris Alan. “I’d hate to think any of those allies would include someone in your own household, but I have to consider it. Someone may have more to gain than you think from your father’s death.”

“Let us hope you are wrong, friend Chris Alan.” Brian looked shocked, but did his best to contain his reaction.

“Unfortunately,” Slate interjected, “he isn’t wrong very often.” Autumn nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind being totally wrong on this one, believe me.” Chris Alan kissed Marcus’ dead body on the forehead, saying farewell to an old friend.

“Wash your lips after, please.” Autumn said in Angelic.

“Hey, when did you become a mysophobe?” Chris Alan chided Autumn. Autumn just pointed at her stomach. Chris Alan decided not to push that issue.

“More suspects, then?” Slate asked.

“Most likely, but it’s better to wait until Raphael is finished with the samples.”

“While you wait, we will have a celebration of your return visit.” Brian clapped his hands in a rather childlike manner.

“There’s no need to go to such trouble,” Chris Alan pleaded.

“I insist; please join us later tonight. Only Codex-sanctified food will be served.” Brian was deadly serious.

Chris Alan looked at his friends for their agreement before replying. “All right, then, we will come.”