Nightrunners 03 - Traitor's Moon (79 page)

"Because the Skalan envoy was secretly parlaying with Viresse for a limited opening of Gedre."

Brythir turned to Klia. "Is this true?"

Klia whispered to Adzriel at some length, and the Bokthersan passed on her words. "Klia learned of this only a few weeks before the envoy's death. He was acting on Queen Idrilain's behest, as a safeguard in case the Iia'sidra would not grant the demands Klia brought. In the meantime, she proceeded with her original orders, hoping to open Gedre permanently."

Rhaish regarded them all stonily, saying nothing.

Brythir summoned the other khirnari, all but Adzriel and Rhaish, to his chair. After several minutes of excited whispering, they resumed their places.

"We would hear more of this supposed poisoning," the Silmai told Seregil.

"As I said, I didn't understand what it was that I was seeing at the time, not until after the attack in the mountains. I believe only Rhaish and Amali knew that we had the bracelet, and its significance if the altered charm was discovered. One of them used it to track us and set the ambushers on us.

"But it wasn't only Klia's bracelet that incriminated them. It was the absence of Torsin's, and for this reason, I believe that Klia's poisoning was an accident, rather than a deliberate attempt at murder.

"When Torsin's body was brought back to the guest house the morning after the Viresse banquet, Alec noted that his warding charm was missing. If the person who poisoned him recognized the charm for what it was, they would have removed it to cover their guilt."

He turned to face Rhaish. "You removed it as soon as you'd poisoned him, Khirnari, knowing that it would give you away. You pretended to stumble and used a common spell to undo the knot holding it on his wrist. The ruse covered this little theft, but Klia surprised you, kindly taking you by the hand to help you up."

"But wait!" Elos i Orian objected. "If that is so, then why didn't Klia's charm give him away in the same manner?"

"Because there was no ill intent, Khirnari. That was the charm's magic, to warn. Because Klia's poisoning was an accident, there was nothing to spring the magic. Perhaps Rhaish could justify killing Torsin—he was old, dying already. He was only a Tirfaie. He was plotting with Ulan to steal away the only hope he had of saving his clan. But Klia?"

He gave the old man a pitying look. "I saw your face as she helped you. If you'd meant to harm her, the charm she wore would have given you away then and there. You knew that, and left it where it was. You told no one what you'd done, not even Amali. Another mistake, Khirnari, given your wife's concern for you.

"It was no secret that Klia was hunting with the Haman the following day. Amali saw a chance to wound those she thought opposed Akhendi's interests and took it. You didn't even know she'd done it until after the bracelet was found, did you? You wanted the

blame on the Viresse, and this muddied the waters. The minute I put it in your hands you guessed what had happened and began to stall and try to get it back from me."

Seregil paused, shaking his head. "From the start, the evidence didn't fit the supposed events. There was too much of it, and too readily found. You gave yourself away at last, hunting us down." He held up the sen'gai again. "You couldn't chance the possibility that we had discovered your secret, which brings me back to Nyal."

Nyal came forward again, not looking at the Akhendi as he outlined what he had said earlier in Adzriel's sitting room. "Amali could tell me no reason for his strange moods, and I inferred nothing of what you have just heard until the day I left in search of the three fugitives," he explained. "Like Seregil, I'd seen without understanding. I just wanted to protect Beka, whom I love. I did help Seregil and Alec escape from the men who waylaid them. These men meant to kill them and would have succeeded if I hadn't happened along. I left them afterward still in ignorance. I wanted to protect Amali, too, until I was shown her duplicity with the charm. Even love has its limits."

A hush fell over the chamber.

"You must answer these charges, Rhaish i Arlisandin," Brythir said at last.

The Akhendi rose and drew himself up proudly. "No teth'sag has been declared. I refute the accusations."

"What say you, Korathan i Malteus?" the Silmai asked.

"I stand by what has been said here, and demand justice," the prince said gruffly.

"Have you any other evidence to offer, Seregil?"

This sounded dangerously like a dismissal. "No, Honored One."

Brythir shook his head, looking older than ever. "These are heavy matters, my brothers and sisters. The Iia'sidra must deliberate deeply upon them. Rhaish, you will summon your wife to answer the charges made against her. Until then, this matter is with Aura—"

"What?" Korathan objected, but Adzriel laid a hand on his arm, whispering earnestly.

Alec shot Seregil a dismayed look, but he shook his head and led the way to seats among the Skalans.

The old Silmai raised his voice again. "There remains the matter of Haman's claim of teth'sag against Seregil the Exile. He has broken teth'sag with both the Haman and with the Iia'sidra in defying the conditions of his return."

"Was it oath breaking to follow the orders of those he now serves?" asked Iriel a Kasrai.

"He is Aurenfaie, and subject to the laws," Galmyn i Nemius maintained.

"But he is exiled, and serves the Skalans," said Ulan i Sathil. "Is he therefore not cut off from the law as well as the comfort of his own kind? If he is not allowed to act as one of the people, is he subject to the same law?"

Seregil gave the Viresse an appraising look, knowing that self-interest lurked somewhere close to the surface of this unexpected support.

"Do the restrictions he and the Skalans agreed to mean nothing, then?" retorted Lhaar a Iriel. "If so, then may the Tirfaie simply not take what they want from us, regardless of what we say? You offer a dangerous precedent, Ulan. Conditions were laid down and agreed to. The Skalans and the Exile must abide by them."

"The Skalans have been wronged!" Adzriel Objected.

Brythir raised his hands for order. "This, too, must be debated with care. We must have time for reflections. Nazien i Hari, do you maintain the claim of teth'sag against this man, Seregil of Rhiminee?"

"I must, for honor's sake, Khirnari," Nazien replied solemnly. "He broke teth'sag. His khirnari must again accept responsibility for him."

Alec's knuckles went white as he clenched his fists. "That ungrateful son of—"

"No, Alec," Seregil whispered quickly. "He has no choice."

Adzriel rose and bowed deeply. "With great sorrow, Khirnari, I accept the justice of your claim. By my honor and that of my clan, I pledge to keep guard over him until judgment has been passed."

"Very well," said Brythir. "We will meet tomorrow morning and resume the debate. Rhaish i Arlisandin, you will summon Amali a Yassara. Korathan i Malteus, you have until the next half-moon to prove your charges."

Klia stirred, raising her good hand toward Korathan.

He listened, then asked, "What of the vote?"

"That must wait until these other matters have been settled," Brythir replied.

"Damnation!" Alec hissed softly.

The closing invocation was given, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Seregil leaned over to Alec, as if to comfort him, and whispered quickly in his ear. "Ask to stay with me. Make a scene."

Alec gave him a startled look. "What? I can't—"

"Just do it!"

"Come, Seregil," Adzriel said.

"Let me come, too!" Alec blurted out, grabbing Seregil's arm. He blushed as Beka and Thero turned to stare but clung doggedly to him.

Adzriel patted his arm consolingly. "I'm sorry, my dear, but that's quite impossible."

"It's my own fault, tali," Seregil said, looking mortified as he forcefully disentangled himself from Alec's grasp. "Come on now, don't act this way. You're bringing shame on both of us."

"I can't bear it," Alec groaned, burying his burning face in his hands. "After all we went through to get back here!"

"Control yourself, boy. You're making a spectacle of yourself," Korathan growled in disgust.

It took all of Seregil's frayed will to look his sister in the eye and dissemble. "I'm sorry, Adzriel, he's so young—Perhaps I could have my old room for the night? Then at least we could see each other's windows."

"It's as good a place as any," she agreed, clearly shocked by Alec's behavior.

"There now," Seregil murmured, bending to hug Alec. His friend stole a questioning look at him, and Seregil slipped him the signs for "nightrunning tonight."

"Old secrets," Seregil murmured, kissing him good-bye.

"Luck in the shadows," Alec whispered back, and Seregil breathed a sigh of relief.

As he turned to follow Adzriel, Thero grabbed him in an awkward and totally uncharacteristic embrace. "Good luck to you, my friend," he whispered, slipping him something in a little wad of cloth. "Remember your nature and depend on it."

"I will," Seregil assured him, palming the mysterious gift.

54

Teth'sag

Seregil lay on the musty bed, staring up into the darkness and trying not to dwell on all the lies he'd had to tell to end up here alone in his ruined childhood room. Blinding himself to the pain and worry in the faces of the others, he'd shut himself off from them more thoroughly than he had when he'd left the city a week earlier.

And could you sit with them, your sisters and friends, knowing that tomorrow you face judgment, and that Adzriel will be the one forced to carry out the sentence?

Better to lie here alone, conjuring Rhaish i Arlisandin's face out of the darkness as he mulled the events of the day. Seregil had dealt with liars for most of his life and practiced deceit as an art himself. No honest man was ever that calm.

The Iia'sidra might see through the Akhendi eventually, but how many more Skalans would die for want of what could so easily be given? He'd sacrificed his birthright for this mission, Klia her hand, Torsin his life. What else would be lost while the Iia'sidra paced itself in the cold cycles of the moon?

He absently fingered the little wax figure Thero had slipped him, recalling the wizard's parting words.
Remember your nature and

depend on it.
Was Thero speaking in double riddles now, like a rhui'auros, or had Seregil merely imagined the challenge, wanted to hear it?

He'd understood, of course. The wax figure was filled with Thero's spell, needing only a key word spoken over it to release it— Nysander had done the same for him many times, since he couldn't manage magic himself. The "nature" Thero had hinted at referred to the spell of intrinsic nature. A favorite of Seregil's from his apprentice days, it transformed one into an animal form said to give the seeker insight into his own heart.

Nysander had cast it on Alec soon after they met, and the boy had, to no one's real surprise, turned into a magnificent young stag.

Seregil hadn't been much older than Alec the first time Nysander had tried it on him. Finding himself in the sleek brown body of an otter, he'd almost wept with disappointment. He'd hoped for something a bit more impressive, a wolf, perhaps, or a great bird of prey like his master, who transformed into an eagle. Looking down at his chinless, whiskered reflection in a glass Nysander had set on the floor, he'd thought himself ridiculous beyond words.

"An otter?" he'd grunted, appalled at his raspy little voice. "What are they good for, except trimming coats?"

"Intelligent, playful creatures, otters. Users of tools, I believe," Nysander had remarked, running a hand down Seregil's supple back. "Sharp teeth, too, and fierce for their size when cornered."

"It's not what I'd have chosen," Seregil sniffed, still skeptical.

"And just what makes you think you get to choose, dear boy?" Nysander had laughed, then made him hump and waddle his way down all those long flights of stairs to one of the Oreska's garden pools, where he'd rediscovered the sheer joy of water.

Seregil shook free of the half-doze that had claimed him and sat up. Stealing silently to the door, he listened to the low voices of his guards. The three men outside were distant kinsmen. Kheeta and his sisters had offered to sit with him, but he'd pleaded weariness.

It hurt a bit, that they believed him and left him to himself.

He pulled a stool over to the balcony door and settled down to wait, knowing it was still too early.

Sitting there, he clocked the moon an hour's span, watching the house next door.

Alec sat awhile with Beka in the colos, then went alone to his room. Seregil saw him framed against the bright rectangle of his

own doorway and resisted the urge to wave. After a while the light went out there, though he thought he could make out a dark form still on watch, sharing his vigil.

There was more to being a good burglar than watching the moon. Some inner sense told Seregil when the moment was right, like picking up a scent on the night air, or a certain type of stillness.

He lifted the bed aside and reached beneath the loose stone tile for the grapple, brushing the doll as he felt about. A tendril of ancient hair tangled around his finger, and he caught a strain of strange, sweet music.