Markos and Mildred burst into a clearing to find one of the Pilatan workers, back against a tree as though resting, an initial impression belied by the pool of blood in which he reclined and the spray of crimson that spread in front of him. Markos held out his arm to keep Mildred in cover at the edge of the clearing, scanning the area for the attacker; but Mildred pushed past him to reach the afflicted man.
Crouching in front of him, she could see by his blank eyes that he had already bought the farm, his life spilt onto the ground from a wound in his throat. His throat had been expertly sliced, right through cartilage and artery to the vertebrae, which showed through as Mildred tilted the head. His lifeblood had been pumped through the gaping wound in less time that it took them to locate and run to the sound of his scream.
It was then that the weapon caught Mildred’s eye— a leaf-bladed throwing knife had been embedded in the tree to one side of the corpse’s head.
Jak? It couldn’t be. But the knife… Mildred’s head whirled.
“Stay there and don’t move,” Markos’s voice commanded. Mildred turned sharply to see who had arrived on the scene. It was Ryan and Jak, with Elias close behind. Markos narrowed his eyes. “You’re here quickly,” he said with suspicion. “You don’t work near here.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Elias panted. “We heard the scream and are just the quickest.” He turned his attention. “The brother?”
Mildred shook her head. “No way. Sliced clean through.”
“I see no ax. The murderer must still have—” Markos began.
Mildred cut him short with a curt shake of the head. “This was no ax. Far too clean. Besides…” She pulled the leaf-bladed knife from the tree and held it out. She looked cold and hard into Jak’s eyes as she revealed the weapon. The albino returned her gaze with an equal iciness. Was he masking guilt or expressing disgust at the implied suggestion of her action? Mildred couldn’t tell.
“I have seen no workmanship of this kind here,” Markos said softly, taking the knife and examining it carefully. He kept his voice low as the clearing was now ringed by several workers from nearby, including the rest of the companions and some Pilatans who had responded to the cry of agony.
“You wouldn’t,” Mildred replied in the same soft tone as the sec boss. Markos followed her eyes and fixed his gaze on Jak.
“Now just wait a minute, Mildred,” Ryan said in a level voice. “Think about this.”
“No need think,” Jak said. “Lost two, three knives when we were taken. One of those.”
Markos raised an eyebrow. “And someone found it in the undergrowth on the other side of the island and brought it over here to do this?” he intoned sardonically.
Jak looked around him, aware of the sudden swell of voices. The Pilatans—not best disposed to the companions in any case—had turned hostile in a matter of moments. The other companions moved close around Jak, their body language subtly changing as they tensed for an attack.
“Wait!” Elias stepped into the clearing, turning to look at the gathered islanders. He turned back to Markos and Mildred, a look of contempt clouding his visage. “You really would condemn this man without thinking? Even you, who are supposed to be his friend?” he added directly to Mildred.
“The knife—” Markos said.
“No! That proves nothing,” Elias shouted. “You would not believe Jak’s friends, I know—but would you also accuse me of lying?”
“What do you mean?” Markos snapped. “I mean I was with the pale ones from the time that you both left until this poor unfortunate screamed,” he said, gesturing to the corpse. “Jak could not have used the knife—nor any of his friends, for that matter—as they were in my sight the whole time. You will have to look elsewhere for your sacrificial lamb, my friend,” he added with heavy sarcasm.
“WHAT THE HELL HAVE WE become that Mildred is no longer one of us and doesn’t even trust us?” J.B. asked bitterly as they returned to work.
“Not her fault,” Jak replied.