Another month passed. Limpkin had just returned from a victory parade and was going over arrangements for the opening of the Black Libraries. A man in Toriman's personal livery arrived and handed him a note. The General had died last night. In pursuance of his will, the body was immediately given the last rites and cremated.
Limpkin was shocked, first by the fact of the great man's death, and then by the almost fumbling haste with which the burial had been carried out. Had anyone been at the General's side when he expired? The man answered that there had been only his personal physician, a priest, and the commander of the household guard. It was they who interred the body and gave the sealed coffin over to be incinerated. Caltroon's guard had been disbanded that morning and many of them had already left for their old homes. The castle itself was closed and sealed.
Limpkin's first impulse was, of course, to go to Caltroon to try to divine some purpose in the shameful speed with which the General had been disposed of. He voiced his intentions to the messenger.
"Little point in that, sir." The man answered politely.
"Why? Has Caltroon been picked so clean that there is nothing of Toriman's left?"
"Yes, sir. It was all in the General's will; he said that we were to remove anything that was his and either destroy it or send it back to his family's house in Mourne." The man paused, looking embarrassed. "And now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I must be going, for my family's house is even more distant than the General's."
Limpkin dismissed him. He felt a sudden weight of responsibility crushing down upon him.