That was clever. Jerran had explained away the psychic scent left by the Lady Nirea. He must be talking to a god. But another voice spoke now, and Revel sat up, thinking, The gods don't make sounds!
"Was there a girl with him, a girl of the gentry in a silver gown?"
"No, Lord Ewyo—" it was her father, then!—"he was alone."
"He may have hidden her body somewhere," said a heavy voice. Rack, by the Orbs, Revel's brother Rack! "He's turned violent today."
"I understand he's your brother?" said Ewyo.
"Aye. A strong violent man, but worse today than ever he's been."
"No rucker would dare harm Lady Nirea," whined Jerran.
"No rucker should dared have touched her," barked the squire. Then, his voice respectful, he asked, "Can you tell me if she's dead, priest?"
There was a croak like a bull-frog's, a chugarum with words in it. "She lives."
"Where?"