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Authors: Sharon Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic, #Science Fiction

Betrayals (27 page)

BOOK: Betrayals
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“What’s wrong?” Meerk suddenly asked in a whisper. “It’s taking so long … aren’t you able to find a way to do it? We’ve got to get out of here before the rain starts.”

“We can leave right now,” Valiant whispered back, feeling more exhilarated than tired. “It’s all done, except for those waterskins containin’ alcohol rather than water. There were just a few of them, and hopefully their owners don’t start to drain them first thing in the mornin’.”

“You did the waterskins too?” Meerk asked, looking startled. “I hadn’t expected—Well, that was really good work. Let’s get back now.”

Valiant nodded and carefully followed Meerk back toward the horses, all the while wondering why the man had been surprised. He’d made a point of saying that Valiant was supposed to be a High talent, and shouldn’t a High talent be expected to do a thorough job? Unless Meerk had had something else in mind …

Like hoping that Valiant would fail when they needed him the most. Valiant untied his horse and mounted silently, doing nothing to show the agitation suddenly in his thoughts. Their aim all along had been to free Lorand and Jovvi, but suddenly Meerk appeared to have an objective of his own. And, since he seemed to have been hoping for Valiant’s failure, that objective could only have Tamrissa at its center.

While their horses picked a careful way through the woods and back to the road, Valiant deliberately kept himself from glancing at Meerk. He’d been fully aware of the burly man’s attraction to Tamrissa, but since nothing overt had been said or done, Valiant had let the matter ride. Now …

Now it was time to wonder if Meerk hadn’t decided to sacrifice Lorand and Jovvi, which could very well make Tamrissa more available. If there was no Blending for Tamrissa to be a part of, and if Valiant were exposed as less than what he was supposed to be… But there had been those words between him and Tamrissa, and he hadn’t been exposed as less, so what would the plan be now?

And just how reliable would Meerk be tomorrow, when they made the real effort to free their groupmates … ?

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

“My lords and ladies, thank you for coming to this meeting,” Kambil said, smiling gravely at the assembled throng. “If you’ve all gotten refreshments, we can move on to the reason why you’re here.”

Kambil paused to look around, but no one jumped up to refill a teacup or snatch a finger cake. In point of fact most of his audience looked as though they would be happier with a drink a good deal stronger than tea. The rest looked as though they would be happiest away from the palace completely, but that desire they weren’t about to be granted. They all currently sat in a medium-sized audience room, with guest chairs arranged more or less casually across the floor. Seating for the Five was on a slightly raised dais, and just now only two of those seats were filled.

“Lord Bron and I are meeting with all of you today because of the disturbing news which has been coming to us over the last few days,” Kambil continued. “Our public Seating ceremony was sparsely attended as far as Advisory representation—your superiors—was concerned, and at first we felt hurt. Then, when we discovered that those who were missing were missing from their homes and offices as well, we grew concerned. Does anyone here have any idea what could have become of them?”

Quite a lot of shifting and throat-clearing went on at that point, but the congregation of secretaries and assistants to the former Advisors seemed to have nothing to say. Kambil exchanged a glance with Bron, who showed the same sober visage that Kambil did, then he sighed audibly.

“At this point, I don’t think I’d mind hearing that they were all off picnicking somewhere,” he commented, making no effort to control anyone in the group. There were other Spirit magic users present, some of them fairly strong Middles. … “You don’t happen to think that that’s where they are?”

A large number of heads shook in response to that, some with smiles, but still no words. Most of them were terrified for one reason or another, and Kambil had to bring them past that.

“It pains me to tell you this, but three of the missing have been located,” he announced, putting as much sympathy and personal angst into the words as possible. “One was murdered in front of witnesses and under rather bizarre circumstances, and the other two were victims of ordinary accidents. I’ll tell you frankly that we don’t like the sound of any of it, and we’ve sent representatives out to investigate.”

“If we’re going to be frank, let’s be blunt as well,” Bron put in, also looking around at the group seated with them. “We expected to lean rather heavily on the advice of those long experienced men, but suddenly they’re gone and we’re left twisting in the wind. If someone considered it a good idea to do away with all those innocent people just to make us look bad, they won’t think as much of the idea once we catch up to them—and that I promise you.”

“Surely no one here could be part of something like that, Bron,” Kambil said once the muttering comments had died down a bit. The combination of the suggestion and Bron’s grim attitude concerning it had affected their audience positively, the first step past their resistance that Kambil had been trying for.

“There may or may not be someone out to do us harm,” Kambil went on, “but nevertheless people are being hurt and killed. I agree that we have to get to the bottom of the mystery, and that’s one of the main reasons we asked you here. You people are the ones who worked most closely with the men who are missing and dead. Isn’t there anything any of you can tell us to make the search a bit easier? If what you say points us in the right direction, please be assured that our gratitude will be golden and weighty.”

That caused even more muttered comments, so Kambil left his seat on the dais and went to the tea service to refill his cup. Giving their audience a chance to think things over and find what to tell them about would only be an unimportant beginning. If someone powerful and dangerous was named as a suspect and it became necessary to remove that person, finding “evidence” implicating him in one or more deaths or disappearances would not be difficult.

But the search for the supposed guilty was only an excuse for bringing in these people. Before the meeting ended he and Bron and Selendi and Homin would have private meetings scheduled with each of them, firstly to find out what their employers were involved in, and secondly to choose those who would continue the work. The ideal candidate would be capable of handling matters alone, but not so ambitious that he or she would put private concerns before those of the Five. He would have to make the final selections, Kambil knew, but first the others would help with the weeding out.

Once his cup was refilled, Kambil turned and walked slowly back to his place on the dais. Some of those in the audience seemed ready to make “helpful” suggestions, and he was more than ready to listen. Bron, too, had noticed the change in attitude, and he therefore exchanged a satisfied glance with Kambil as Kambil resumed his seat.

For the next hour he and Bron listened attentively as more and more suspicions and accusations were voiced, but there was no need to try to remember all of it. Kambil had arranged for transcribers to listen in to what was said, and a complete and accurate report of the meeting would be available later. But each new person or subject mentioned brought comments from some of those who hadn’t yet spoken, until at the end of the hour the entire group was almost to the point of fighting for the chance to speak.

“My lords and ladies, please!” Kambil was finally forced to interrupt, holding up a soothing hand. “You’ll all have the chance to tell us everything you think we should know, but this isn’t the best way of doing it. You’ll all be given appointments with one of our Five for later today or tomorrow, and if more time is required than we’ve scheduled, we’ll simply reschedule. I’ll call the clerks in now, and those of you on the list for this afternoon will remain. The rest of you can return home, until the messengers come with the times of your appointments. Thank you for—”

“Excellency, please excuse my interrupting, but I believe I have information you should be given right now.”

The man who had stood to speak looked determined, but his mind quivered with nervousness. Kambil felt tempted to dismiss him with a reprimand, but the man’s thoughts said he believed he spoke the truth.

“I’m afraid I don’t place you, sir,” Kambil said after a moment, feeling the man’s immediate extreme relief. “Please introduce yourself and tell us what you consider so important.”

“Thank you, Excellency,” he said with a bow, forcibly keeping himself from babbling. “I am Lord Rimen Howser, and I’m in charge of certain… delicate matters for Lord Embisson Ruhl. Have you been told that Lord Embisson was viciously attacked by thieves, and now lies badly hurt at home?”

“No, we weren’t,” Kambil replied with complete honesty, frowning as he exchanged another glance with Bron. “We were so preoccupied with the Advisors … Did I say that this has definitely gotten out of hand? Do go on.”

“Excellency, I would be pleased to, but I feel that this topic should be reserved for your ears alone,” Rimen replied at once. “With your permission, of course.”

“We’ll rely on your judgment, Lord Rimen,” Kambil agreed, deciding that privacy could only be a small wasted effort if the man exaggerated. “Please remain here after the others leave. As for the rest of you, thank you again for your cooperation.”

That was a dismissal none of them could ignore, so they rose, bowed or curtsied, then headed for the door. The clerks would separate out those who were on the schedule for that afternoon, but the first of the interviews would have to wait.

“All right, Lord Rimen, we’re alone now,” Kambil pointed out once the door was closed behind the last of the others. “Just what delicate matters are you in charge of for Lord Embisson?”

“It’s my responsibility, Excellency, to arrange the transportation out of Gan Garee for those candidates for High practitioner who pass the tests.” Rimen now spoke without circumlocution, and Kambil was able to appreciate his earlier reticence. “Not everyone is aware of this practice, you understand, nor do they question the absence of such hopefuls except for when and where they’re needed. Starting speculation about where they’re sent would be completely contrary to everyone’s best interests.”

“That’s quite true, Lord Rimen,” Kambil agreed, wondering if the man would prove to be someone he could use to good purpose—without being controlled. “And what have you learned in the course of this task that you feel we should know?”

“Allow me to begin the tale from the beginning,” he said, coming forward to take one of the chairs closest to the dais. “Some days ago I sent out our last convoy, but had to do so with one of its scheduled passengers missing. One of the fools charged with seeing to the segments until the time of their departure had ‘misplaced’ one of them, but he insisted that it wasn’t his fault. Lady Eltrina Razas had taken a fancy to the man, and once he was drugged she insisted on ‘borrowing’ the segment until it was time for him to leave.”

“Lady Eltrina Razas,” Bron interrupted in a musing tone. “For some reason her name sounds familiar, and I have the oddest conviction that it has something to do with the competitions.”

“It does,” Rimen agreed with a cool smile. “Lady Eltrina was in charge of the challenging Blendings which the animals formed, and that was where she saw the one named Ro. He apparently impressed her so greatly that—”

“Just a moment!” Kambil said sharply, no longer worrying about the length of the tale Rimen meant to tell. “Did you say Ro, as in Valiant Ro? One of the five who faced us in the final competition?”

“Well… yes,” Rimen acknowledged, suddenly looking less sure of himself. “You have my word that everything was perfectly in order, just as it was with the other two members of his group who were already in the wagons. I—”

“I don’t believe this,” Bron said, turning his head to Kambil. “When they were carried off the sands I assumed it was to have their throats cut in private. It was difficult to imagine anyone not knowing how dangerous they were, but apparently I overestimated the intelligence of those who were in charge. They actually let those people live!”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Kambil said, furious anger beginning to rise inside him as he turned back to Rimen. “Give us the details quickly, and without extraneous comment!”

“I went to Lady Eltrina’s house, and forced her to admit that Ro was no longer in her possession,” Rimen said immediately in obedience, the words falling over one another. “She said it was the female claimed by Lord Lanir who had stolen Ro, so I went to Lord Lanir’s secondary estate and found him mindless from burnout. After that I went to Lady Hallina Mardimil’s town house, and found that she’d left for Haven Wraithside—but without her son, whom she, too, had claimed. I came to the conclusion that all three of them had escaped restraint, but could not find anyone to report to. Please forgive me, Excellency—!”

By then Kambil was on his feet, turning the air blue with the foulest curses he could put tongue to. Three of the five members of the Blending stronger than theirs were free, when all the time he’d imagined them safely dead.

“What about the other two?” Bron demanded harshly when Kambil paused for breath. “You said they were already in that convoy of yours, but are you certain? Could they have been carried off without your knowledge?”

“Absolutely not,” Rimen denied, his mind confirming the assertion. “I sent the convoy on its way before going after Ro, and all the other segments were precisely where they were supposed to be.”

“That means the three on the loose could be following the convoy,” Bron said, also now on his feet. “I have no idea how they would have found out about it, but we can’t assume they didn’t. If they aren’t hiding out somewhere in the city, they could be following the convoy. Where is it headed, and what sort of place is it?”

“I—I have no idea,” Rimen stuttered, now even more frightened. “I send the convoys off in the direction I’m told to, but only the captains of the escorts know the location of their final destinations. This one headed west…”

BOOK: Betrayals
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