To Mourn the Dead

The air was heavy with incense. Greg looked around as inconspicuously as possible. This wasn’t a crime scene. This was a funeral.

The mourning hall in the temple was lavishly decorated. There were flower wreaths almost turning the hall in a flower shop. Religious sutras to mourn the deceased reverberated through the hall. A few people were paying respect to the family when Greg and his colleagues arrived.

Only Master Andros, the Matron and Master Linden were present representing the family. While the husband was eagerly talking to one of the guests, the main wife and her son had their lips pressed together. Both were pale and Master Linden had dark shadows under his eyes.

Greg remembered the weird protectiveness the young Master had shown when Greg had interviewed the Third Mistress. Given the age difference his step-mother must have been like a younger sister to him. His stomach clenched at the thought that his sister could fall victim to the same fate.

Huh? Lina and … Vigil?

Mistress Rhea’s maid was standing next to the casket. Opposite her was the young guard. Both servants looked as if they hadn’t slept for days.

Exhausted ... But not sad.

While the Matron continuously dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, both servants’ faces appeared to be made of stone. Over the years Greg had seen many families and friends stricken with grief over their loved one’s death but neither Lina nor Vigil appeared to be moved at all.

When moving a few steps forward with constabulary’s representatives, Greg spotted Vigil shifting his weight and glancing inside the casket.

Checking if … she’s still there?

Lina caught the officer looking in their direction. Her lips moved and the guard’s head immediately snapped up. Making eye-contact with Greg, the young guard bowed politely. Then he assumed his previous position. Staring blankly at the back of the mourning hall.

“My condolences, Master Andros, Mistress Andros, Master Linden.”

They had moved on and the Captain shook the older man’s hand while bowing to the mistress of the mansion and nodding towards the eldest son. The officers followed their superior’s words and gestures.

“Thank you for your words. My wife was young, but the gods had different plans for her. Her illness came unexpectedly. Before we knew it, she was gone.”

The first wife shot an angry glance at her husband. The young Master’s lips dropped even more while a blush crept up his neck. There was an uneasy silence and the Captain handed over an envelope as a gift of mourning. Master Andros took it with a greedy look in his eye and handed it over to a servant standing behind him.

“Thank you for your contribution. Captain, Constables, if you want, you may say farewell to my wife.”

As neither the Captain nor his colleagues had spoken to the Third Wife they exchanged uncomfortable glances. Greg also hesitated but eventually turned to Master Linden.

“Master Linden, I had a few short encounters with the Mistress Rhea. Would you accompany me to say a few words to her?”

His comment had the Matron look at him curiously. Master Linden looked at his mother for advice, completely ignoring his father. A sad smile appeared on the older woman’s face.

“Thank you, Constable. Mistress Rhea didn’t have many people who would care for her. Even if your encounter with her was brief, I believe she would appreciate your words.”

With his mother’s blessings the young Master led Greg up the stairs towards the casket.

“My condolences again, Master Linden. The Third Mistress was a devout believer. I am sure the gods will have a place for her.”

Linden sighed.

“Mother Rhea’s faith was indeed unshakeable. I just wish … she should have told us earlier about her feeling unwell. We all knew, but … it took us all by surprise.”

“I thought it was well known that the Third Mistress disposition was quite weak.”

“Yes, she always had been weak and spent most of her time in seclusion. But we didn’t expect …”

To Greg’s surprise the young man’s voice cracked. Silent tears streamed down his face.

“You can have your moment with Mother Rhea now. Afterwards you can join your Captain at this table over there.”

Still sniffling Linden left him standing next to the casket. Looking at the open casket, Greg remembered his partner’s curiosity about the young lady being on display. A quick look at the two servants standing to each side of the casket, the officer moved forward and looked into the coffin.

The face was pale. The eyes were closed. Alarmingly thin arms were crossed over her chest. The hair had been pulled up to a tight bun more to the custom of old people passing. And even if the young woman had been in her early twenties there were now clear signs of white hair in the hairdo.

How can they not care more? What happened to you?

Greg looked up for a moment. Catching Lina staring at him with a frown on her face. To sort his thoughts, he took another look at the corpse in front of him.

It’s not sadness. They are nervous. No, not only nervous. There’s something …

This time looking up Greg focused on Vigil. Caught off guard by the constable, the younger man flinched and an almost panicked expression washed over his face. His eyes darted into the coffin.

They are worried. Why are they worried?!

A commotion at the end of the hall made Greg turn around. A tall middle-aged man accompanied by two younger men about Linden’s age. There was some shouting. The short line of mourners turned around. Master Andros’ jaw tightened. It was the first strong emotion Greg had seen on the merchant’s face.

“You promised me! You promised me to take care of her!”

The middle-aged man had made his way up to Master Andros. The guests had dispersed making way to the angry man. He was tall and even if he wasn’t muscular, he was still intimidating.

“Master Peril, we’re all mourning your daughter’s passing. Please show some respect.”

It wasn’t Master Andros who spoke but the quiet and sad voice of the Matron. This made the father focus on the older woman. He politely bowed to her and Master Linden just to turn and pointing his shaking finger at the husband.

“I believed you. And you promised me. Back then. And now!?!”

With every word the finger stabbed the shorter man in the chest. Mouth ajar, the rich merchant just let the father assault him like this. With every stab, Master Andros flinched and took a step back.

“Now, calm down, Drost. We didn’t know about her illness. When we found out it was already too late.”

“Too late, you say?! I spoke with Master Dekin. Where do you think he went with his diagnosis!? How long did she have to suffer before you even bothered to call for help?!”

The stabbing continued. Neither of the sons bothered to step in. A small smirk appeared on Linden’s face while the Third Mistress’ brothers looked at her sister’s husband as if looking at a dung beetle.

“Why marry her off, if she was so weak? You didn’t want her either. That’s why you sold her off to me. It was better for your business and that way you didn’t …”

The fist found its way in the mourning husband’s face. Once, twice. After the third punch the two sons finally saw it fit to react. They pulled back their father after a fourth hit had landed on Master Andros’ face. At this moment also Linden rushed to his father’s side but only held him up. There was no urgency in his movements.

The constable saw a faint smile on Mistress Andros’ lips before she urged the grieving father to calm down. Now it was also time for the Captain and Greg’s colleagues to spring into action. But Master Peril brushed them all off. Instead, he walked up the stairs to the casket.

“Did you know my daughter?”

Greg only nodded slightly. Casting a probing glance in his direction, the middle-aged man started to sob uncontrollably. Patiently, Greg waited for the father to calm down.

“How did you know her? She was a lovely girl, wasn’t she? How could she have been so sick without me knowing?”

Not expecting an answer, the questions poured out of Master Peril’s mouth. With a short glance down the stairs, Greg could see the two brothers standing there talking to the Captain and Linden. Master Andros had left the mourning hall with his wife. Uneasily, he shifted his weight.

I can’t just leave now, can I?

Except for the sobbing, Master Peril didn’t say anything anymore. He sniffled uncontrollably until Greg handed him his handkerchief. Mechanically the pharmacist took it, trying to dry his tears with unsteady movements.

“I’m sorry Dora. I couldn’t protect her. Please don’t be mad at me. I tried my best. I thought she would be safe. Rhea, please just wake up. I will bring you back home. You don’t have to stay with this … filth … I will protect you. I promised your mother. I could only promise her. Please wake up!”

Greg stood silently, listening to the grown man’s whispers to his deceased daughter. Again, he heard the name which didn’t belong to the Western region. Again, he was reminded of Har.

“Rhea, I still need to tell you so much. I wanted to tell you when you turned twenty-one. I know I promised your mother to keep it a secret forever but … you should have at least known about your father. I am so sorry. I should have sent you away. I should have sent you to him. Dora thought she knew best but maybe …”

There was more indistinguishable mumbling followed by silence. After a few deep breaths the middle-aged man had found his countenance again. Then his gaze focused on the maid next to the casket.

“Lina! Why didn’t you tell me, Lina? I could have helped. Immediately.”

Lina’s face went from pale to flushed in seconds. Her back straight. Her fists clenched. Knuckles shining white through the skin.

Why panic?

“Master Andros didn’t allow us to go outside. I wanted to send word a few times, but Lady Rhea didn’t want you to worry. She knew, her marriage to Master Andros was important for your business.”

“That stupid child! She shouldn’t have worried about that. But … that was how she was, right? She was a gentle and thoughtful soul, my Rhea.”

Lina’s expression was blank. But Greg caught a strained expression on the guard’s face. A twitch detectable around his mouth.

What’s funny?

“Father, let us leave. We can deal with Master Andros later. Have you said your farewell?”

Both sons had appeared behind Greg and Master Peril and the pharmacist turned around.

“I will talk to her in prayer again later. I just wanted to see her one last time. You say your final words as well. Constable, could you help me down the stairs?”

Politely Greg offered his arm which the man actually leaned on heavily. After a few moments his sons caught up to him and relieved Greg handed over their father to them.

Greg bowed to the three men leaving the mourning hall. This commotion had shaken up the small group of mourners gathered around the tables to the left. There were hushed voices eagerly exchanging gossip. Greg made his way to the tables when the Abbess entered the mourning hall. The stern look on the Abbess’ face made all voices die down. After a few bows toward the open casket, the Abbess lit some incense. Everyone rose respectfully. Then the nuns and Abbess started the first set of prayers and the mourning ceremony began.