Tris concentrated on bringing down his mental shielding enough to permit Esme's touch. Her hand passed over his brow, and he felt her power lessen the throbbing in his shoulder and arm.
A sharp rap came at the door. Soterius and the soldiers sprang from their places, and five soldiers stood to form a protective ring around Tris and Esme, swords drawn. Har-rtuck stood in the doorway, a grim expression on his face.
"Do you have the bowman?" Soterius asked Harrtuck.
"He attacked us. One of my men ran him through. He's dead."
Soterius swore. "Makes it hard to interrogate him."
"Not necessarily." Tris managed to pull himself up on his good arm. "Bring me some pillows."
"If you sit up you could start bleeding again," Esme protested. "I haven't had time to finish the healing."
"It won't be for long."
"This can wait…" Soterius began
Tris shook his head. "There may be others. He might have had help. If traitors remain in the ranks, we need to know." A trickle of blood started from the wound, and Esme looked at him sternly. Tris extended his right arm toward the middle of the room and murmured the words of summoning.
The temperature in the room fell, and beyond Tris's outstretched hand a fine mist began to coalesce. Soterius moved forward so that he was positioned to step between the ghost and Tris if necessary. The spirit of a young, dark-haired man crouched before them, clad in the uniform of a palace guard.
"Who sent you to attack the king?" Soterius demanded. "Tell us, and maybe your journey to the Lady will be short."
"Don't rightly know, to tell the truth."
"You drew a crossbow on the king and you don't know why?"
The man tugged his forelock in deference. "Aye, 'tis the truth. Two moons ago, the wasting disease began to take me. I have five children and a wife to feed. They'll have nothing with me dead, no way to earn their keep. A man came to my house one night. Well dressed, with a nice horse. He spoke like one of the betters, although given his business, he didn't say his name. He offered to see to it that my wife had all the money she needed and that my little ones wouldn't go hungry if I would do a job for him. What's a man to do? Didn't matter to me who sits on the throne, so long as the taxes don't rise. I was going to die anyhow, and leave them with nothing. I took his offer, and he laid down gold on the table, right then."
"Whose gold?" Tris asked, teeth clenched against the pain.
"It was Trevath gold, but it spends the same," the ghost said with sly smile.
Tris and Soterius exchanged glances. "Can you tell us anything else?" Soterius asked.