Together, Alyce and Jessamy tried to comfort Brigetta as she continued to heave, Alyce holding the girl's hair out of the way and Jessamy venturing a probe.
«Child, child, what is it? Was it something you ate?»
«The marchpane! It must be!..» Brigetta managed to gasp out, between gagging fits. «Lord Ahern sent it. S-some of the boys ate it, too — and Marie. Dear God, I can't breathe!»
«Which boys? How much? Where are they?» Jessamy demanded, as Alyce recoiled from the pain washing through the stricken girl.
«She's poisoned!» Alyce blurted. «They’re all poisoned! But Ahern can’t have sent poisoned marchpane!»
«Krispin!» Jessamy cried, for she saw Brigetta's memory of all of them partaking. «And Isan — dear God! They're in the garden!»
«Sweet Jesu, no!» the queen cried, trying to lurch to her feet. «Jessamy, do something! Find them!»
Alyce was already dashing toward the door, heart pounding, reaching out with her mind to Marie, calling, a part of her sickly aware that it was already too late. And even as she ran, Jessamy close behind her, she realized who had given the marchpane to Brigetta to deliver: Muriella! And suddenly, it all became horrifyingly clear.
She faltered, outrage drawing her back, but her sister's need — and that of the children, the innocent children! — was far greater than her desire for immediate justice.
«It was Muriella!» she said breathlessly over her shoulder to Jessamy as they ran toward the gardens.
«I know», Jessamy gasped, and seized the arm of a guard as they came abreast of him, pausing only long enough to bark out a single command.
«Go to the queen's solar», she ordered, «and arrest Lady Muriella!»
They had seen the location in the garden where Marie had been reading her letter. At the path to the arbor, Alyce split off in that direction, leaving Jessamy to continue on toward the castle's fishpond.
As Alyce approached, she saw the rumpled blur of her sister's peacock-colored gown, stark against the creamy stone of the bench beneath the arbor, and the tumble of her loose hair veiling her face. With a little cry, she ran to Marie's side and swept the hair aside, but the blue eyes were open and empty, the fair face already waxy pale. Sobbing, Alyce gathered her sister to her breast and held her, weeping for her loss — for Marie's loss — for all the tomorrows that now would never be.
But urgency soon drew her from her own grief, to see what help she might render to Jessamy, for she knew, from the brief images she had read from Brigetta, that the tragedy did not stop here. With a little sob, she gently shifted her sister onto clean grass and scrambled to her feet, dashing off the way Jessamy had gone — and found her beside the fishpond in the kitchen yard, weeping as she cradled the lifeless Isan in her arms. Young Prince Brion was hugging a very frightened and wide-eyed Krispin, who at least did not appear to be too affected other than being very shocked. Jessamy's cries had brought several kitchen servants into the doorway to investigate the source of the distress.
«Alyce — oh, thank God!» Jessamy sobbed, looking up. 'Take Krispin inside at once and make him vomit! Give him the whites of half a dozen eggs, and then a great deal of water with plenty of salt in it».
«But I didn't eat any! I spat it out!» Krispin insisted, as Brion began dragging him toward the kitchen and Alyce hesitated uncertainly.
«Is Isan?»
«Yes, he's dead!» Jessamy cried. «And God knows what I shall tell his mother. He had nearly twice as much as the others. Dear God, how did we not see this coming?»
Suddenly very weary, Alyce started to sink down numbly beside Jessamy, but the older woman seized her roughly by the shoulder and gave her a shake.
«Don't you dare!» she whispered vehemently. «Go and tend to Krispin. There's nothing to be done here. Save your passion for the living!»
Half-dazed with shock, Alyce straightened and followed after Brion and Krispin, pushing past the servants in the doorway. In the bustling kitchen beyond, preparations were underway for the evening meal.
Forcing herself to focus, Alyce herded the two boys ahead of her until she spotted a basket of eggs. She seized a large cup as she changed course in that direction, nodding toward the nearest pair of kitchen maids.
«You», she said to the younger one, «fetch us some fresh water — at once! And you», she said to the second, «separate the whites from half a dozen of those eggs and put them in this cup. Brion, bring Krispin over here!»
«But I didn't eat any of the marchpane!» Krispin protested.
«We must make sure», Alyce replied. «Hurry!» she added aside to the white-faced servant, who was breaking eggs and tipping the yolks back and forth between the two halves of each, letting the whites drain into the cup Alyce held. «My sister is dead. By now, so is Lady Brigetta. And Isan».
The boys' faces drained of color, and anger flashed in young Brion's gray eyes.
«Who did this terrible thing?» the crown prince demanded.
«I don't know», Alyce replied. «I think it was Lady Muriella».
«But, why?» Krispin wanted to know, tears spilling down his cheeks.
«I don't know». Alyce took the cup, now half-filled with egg-whites, and put it into his hands. «Now, drink this — all of it!»
«No. It's slimy. It'll make me puke».
«That's the whole point. Drink it!»
At the same time, Prince Brion gave his shoulder a shake and repeated, «Drink it, Krispin».
The younger boy braced himself and drank, forcing himself to gag down the contents of the cup in three large swallows. When he had finished, Alyce refilled the cup from an ewer the younger servant had brought, added a generous measure of salt and stirred it with a finger, and ordered the boy to drain that, too — and then a second cup. As he labored to finish the second draught, making a face, she pulled an empty basin closer, nodding for Brion to hold it under Krispin's chin.
«Revolting, wasn't it?» Alyce murmured, cupping the back of Krispin's head with her hand. «Believe me, I do understand. Now open your mouth».
Too startled to resist, Krispin obeyed, only to have Alyce poke two fingers down his throat, at the same time pressing his head over the empty basin.
The result was immediate and spectacular. When Krispin had finished retching, Brion dutifully holding the basin and looking scared, one of the kitchen maids brought him a clean towel, another offering one to Alyce.
«Will he be all right, my lady?» the girl asked.
«I think so», Alyce replied numbly. «It doesn't appear that he actually got a dose of the poison, but I couldn't risk not doing everything I know to do. It was in some marchpane, but he said he spat out what he tried».
One of the women was inspecting the contents of the basin while Brion helped Krispin wipe his mouth and Alyce washed her hands in another basin a young kitchen maid had brought.
«Marchpane, y'say?» the woman said, shaking her head. «Well, I don't see no trace of that, my lady. I doubt he'd had anything since this morning».
«For which, God be praised!» Alyce murmured, drying her hands.
Welcome relief flooded through her like a physical wave, and she leaned heavily on the vast kitchen table. But this momentary respite quickly gave way to recollection of less favorable outcomes: images of her sister lying dead in the garden, and the innocent Brigetta stricken in the queen's chamber — and Isan, who had eaten more of the tainted marchpane than any of the others, likewise dead. A sob welled up in her throat, but she mastered it and laid her arms around the shoulders of Krispin and the prince.
«That was well done, gentlemen», she murmured, hugging both of them close. «You were very brave».
«What about Isan?» Brion asked hesitantly. «Is he really?..»
«I'm afraid he is, your Highness», she replied.
«I want to see him!» Krispin said boldly.
«There is nothing you can do for him now», she said. «But your lady mother will be frantic to know that you are safe!»