The Fire Seer and Her Quradum (28 page)

Bel-Sumai stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head.

Mandir went to the other two guards and cut their ropes as well. He helped them to their feet.

Taya glanced out the window. The newly arrived guards were leaving the stable and coming this way. They had little time left.

The three guards in the room shuffled their feet and rubbed their wrists, saying nothing.

Bel-Sumai’s gaze went to the window. A muscle jumped along his jawline as he spotted his reinforcements on the way. Then he went to Mandir. “I forgive you,” he said gruffly. He held up his hand, and the two men touched fingers.

Bel-Apsu and Bel-Ditana came up and touched fingers as well.

“Prince Tufan died of an accidental overdose of
nepenthe
,” said Bel-Sumai. “Are we agreed?”

There were assents all around, just as the mob of guards reached the door.

Chapter 30

Mandir followed Taya out of Tufan’s chambers, feeling not only relief but a wave of love for her that was almost overwhelming. “I could kiss you,” he said.

She turned and grinned. “Then do it.”

He intended to—but first he wanted to take a moment just to look at her. Her black hair shone, adorably mussed as it always was, with pieces falling out of the headdress. And her face was flushed from the confrontation with the guards. Flood and fire, but she was sexy. He loved everything about her. “Nobody ever did that for me before.”

“Did what?” she asked.

“Defended me.”

Her eyes went soft. “It’s not unusual, you know. Even if we weren’t lovers, we’d be Coalition partners, and I’d have defended you then. Even if I still hated you, I’d have done it.”

“Well, you’re not like the people I grew up with.” For years, he’d thought of her as naive and innocent, himself as worldly and cynical. But in this, he was the naive one. Innocence he could not claim, but for years his view of life and human relationships had been cruelly distorted. When it came to trust and partnerships, love and relationships, he was but a babe in the woods, wide-eyed with wonder as he experienced them for the very first time. And it was Taya who was worldly and wise.

He took her face in his hands and pulled her close. The curves of her body fit neatly into the planes of his own. He kissed her. Her nipples hardened as they brushed against his chest, but her mouth was soft against his. He tilted her head a little, tasting her from a different angle.

His cock was swelling, a natural bodily reaction to his touching and kissing her, yet he felt more affectionate right now than sexual. He didn’t want to pound into her so much as he wanted to stroke and caress her, to show her the love and reverence that played the gentle counterpart to his darker fantasies.

She brought her hands up to his shoulders, leaning into the kiss. He stroked the back of her neck. She was so warm and yielding. Great Mothers, but she killed him. Killed him every time and in every which way. He wanted her so much that she left him quivering, like wet clay.

“That was clever of you,” he murmured. “Figuring out what happened to Bel-Sumai’s dog.”

“Thank you—although I don’t know for sure that’s what happened. I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“You created doubt, which was all that mattered,” said Mandir. “And I would never have made that connection on my own.”

“Well, you were smart to figure out that Bel-Sumai was acting on the king’s orders.”

He grinned. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” Her eyes were soft.

Mandir wanted nothing more than to take her back to the guest room and love her—slowly this time. Gently. They could take the whole afternoon. But with so many guards on the property, and their tentative peace agreement with Bel-Sumai so fragile, they couldn’t afford the indulgence. “We need to pack and get out of here.”

“I know.”

They headed to the guest room to collect their things. Mandir found his saddlebags a mess, with his clothes and personal items strewn all over. What a zebu’s ass Bel-Sumai had been to plant evidence here and then stage a search—it was violating in so many ways. Mandir was tempted just to shove everything back in the bag, but if he did, the knowledge of his messy bag would nag at him, so he carefully retrieved, folded, and packed each item.

Taya, meanwhile, packed her own saddlebags.

Mandir finished his work and tied the saddlebag shut. He pulled the two
nepenthe
vials from his pocket. “Look what I still have.”

Taya looked up and started as if he held a poisonous snake. “
Bantu kasu annasi
, get rid of those!”

“Why? This is part of the evidence that the vials had their contents swapped.”

“We don’t want that evidence,” said Taya. “Tufan died of an accidental overdose, remember? No swapped vials involved.”

That was true, but he feared the guards might renege on the deal they’d made. That was probably his suspicious nature at work; trust did not come easily to him, and never would.

“You know what?” said Taya. “I suggested to Gadatas that I’d give him back his
nepenthe
if he told me whether or not Yanzu stole it from him the night of the murder.”

“And did he tell you?” asked Mandir.

“He did,” said Taya. “Though he wasn’t enthusiastic about it.”

Mandir looked thoughtfully at the two vials. “Are you saying you want to keep your word and return it to him?”

“No,” said Taya. “But what else are we going to do with it?”

“I have an idea,” said Mandir.

∞

Gadatas was not in his quarters. Even so, Mandir saw signs he’d begun to prepare for departure. His shelves had been emptied, and his chest had been pulled out from the wall to the center of the room. Somehow he’d managed to cram all his belongings into the chest, and he’d done it the proper way, by neatly folding and organizing everything. Mandir approved.

“Shall we try the stable?” said Taya. “He might want to secure a horse.”

“He can’t put that chest on a horse.” Still, it was a good suggestion.

They headed for the stable. Gadatas wasn’t there, as it happened, but Nindar was. The boy was busy grooming and watering the fourteen horses of the newly arrived palace guards.

“Will you be ready to go soon?” Taya asked him. “We want to be on the road before dark, you and me and Setsi and Mandir.”

Nindar nodded. “I’ve just about finished here. I’ll go to the house and pack my things.”

“Have you seen Gadatas?” Mandir asked him.

“Down by the river, filling waterskins.”

They spotted Gadatas at the river, panting heavily and trembling as he ascended the bank, carrying three full waterskins.

“How’s the shaking?” said Taya.

“Worse than ever,” said Gadatas. “Were you able to recover my
nepenthe
? I really need it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to even sit a horse right now.”

Mandir didn’t believe that he truly needed it, and after what he’d seen at Neshi’s place during his Year of Penance, he was never going to give Gadatas back his
nepenthe
. If he did, he’d be complicit in the man’s suffering and eventual death. “You should come with us to Rakigari. I’m sure Neshi would be happy to take you in for a while and help you through your withdrawal sickness.”

Gadatas scowled at this idea.

“Did you have somewhere else in mind to go?” asked Mandir.

“I was thinking maybe the palace.”

Mandir raised his brows. “Didn’t they exile you?”

“Yes, but it’s been a while,” said Gadatas. “And...well, there will be a new king. Two new kings.”

Taya jumped in. “You really think you can go back to the palace, shaking the way you are and craving
nepenthe
, and they’ll just put you back to work?”

Gadatas said nothing.

“Taya’s right,” said Mandir. “You can’t go back in this state. You know what will happen. You’ll steal more
nepenthe
. The new kings aren’t going to be any more tolerant of that than Izdubar was.”

“I’m not going to steal anything,” said Gadatas.

“Never mind—I have good news.” Mandir pulled the two vials of
nepenthe
from his belt pouch and showed them to Gadatas. “See these?”

Gadatas’s eyes went wide, and he took a step toward Mandir. “One of those is mine.”

Mandir, who made it a habit never to give ground to another man, held out an arm to stay him. “Not so fast—they’ve been tampered with. Taya figured out that the contents of your vial had been swapped with the contents of Tufan’s. And the two vials have different dosages.”

Gadatas blinked. “How so?”

“Yours was concentrated,” said Mandir. “And Tufan’s was dilute. A normal dose from your vial was a single drop, whereas from Tufan’s vial it was ten drops. When the contents were swapped, Tufan took ten drops of the concentrated variety, and he died of an overdose.”

Gadatas’s shaking grew wilder. He hugged the three waterskins to his body. “Why would somebody do that?”

Mandir gave him a hard look. “It’s not your business. And I suggest that if you
do
know anything, you’ll forget about it immediately. For your own safety. Do you understand?”

Gadatas swallowed. “I understand.” His eyes went back to the
nepenthe
vials. “Are the contents still swapped?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tufan’s vial is the one that should be returned to me,” said Gadatas.

Mandir ignored that. “Do you understand the implications of what I’ve said? You’ve been taking a reduced dosage for several days now, one-tenth of the amount you used to take. That’s why you started shaking.”

“I’m shaking because I haven’t had any
at all
, not since Bel—” He caught himself. “I mean, since the vial mysteriously disappeared from my quarters.”

“You’re missing the point,” said Mandir. “You have, unbeknownst to yourself, been weaning yourself off the drug for several days. You’re in the worst of the withdrawal sickness right now, but you’re almost through it. You’re going to feel better soon. If you go to Neshi’s, he can help you to fill the holes in your soul and stop the cravings.”

Gadatas shook his head. “It’s too sudden. I need to wean myself off it slowly. I haven’t had any at all today! I can reduce the dosage a little bit at a time. I swear I’ll stop taking it, and I’ll go to Neshi’s. Only return the vial to me so I can manage this on my own.”

Mandir was tired of this conversation. He raised his hand and hurled first one vial and then the other into the river. He heard the tinkle of shattering clay as they broke, spilling their contents into the rushing water.

Gadatas cried out in horror. Flinging his waterskins to the ground, he ran to the water’s edge and waded into the river. But it was hopeless. The
nepenthe
was forever lost. He lowered his head in grief.

“If you want to go to Neshi’s, meet us at the stable when the sun is halfway down,” Mandir called to him.

He waited for a response, but Gadatas only stared at the river.

Mandir took Taya’s hand, and they headed up the bank.

∞

The compound had become a whirlwind of activity. Glancing at the stable, Mandir saw that some of the newly arrived palace guards had removed their horses from the corral and were saddling them. Clearly they meant to be on the road before sundown. Probably Bel-Sumai and the other three resident guards would go with them.

Two wagons had been wheeled up to the main house. Guards were making trips to and from the wagons, loading them. Some carried heavy chests packed with Tufan’s personal items while others hauled pieces of gold-leaf furniture on their backs. Bel-Ditana must have won his argument with Bel-Sumai about the furniture, now that they had a second wagon, more horses, and more men to help.

Soon the house would be thoroughly stripped. Mandir’s brothers could try squatting here for a while, but they’d have to leave when they ran out of food. The land here was no good for agriculture and the river useless for sustained fishing. Game from the nearby woods might stave off starvation, but not for long.

The guards would be traveling together, and he and Taya would have their own entourage: Setsi and Nindar for sure, and maybe Gadatas. Which left three brothers—Runawir, Shardali, and Ilinos—whose fates were unknown.

Mandir had no interest in further contact with Runawir or Shardali. But the case of Ilinos nagged at him. The boy was no older than sixteen. Where would he go?

Left to their own devices, Runawir, Shardali, and Ilinos would probably travel together. For all their arrogance and bluster, they had to be terrified of what lay ahead. Since Mandir knew each of them personally, it was easy for him to predict the dynamic that would develop. Runawir would lead the group with Shardali as his obsequious and pandering second-in-command. Ilinos would be the group’s scapegoat, blamed for all ills and made to do all the undesirable work.

For all that Mandir hated Ilinos, part of him felt sorry for the boy and didn’t want that to be his fate. Ilinos was the boy he’d likely have grown into if he hadn’t been yanked out of Tufan’s household at the age of thirteen.
Perhaps when you’ve learned how to forgive others, you will be ready to forgive yourself
, Neshi had said. Mandir knew his hatred for Ilinos stemmed from hatred of himself. Ilinos represented the snotty, nasty adolescent Mandir had once been, or could have been, and which the adult Mandir wanted to soundly beat to a pulp.

How juvenile he had behaved with Ilinos. How selfish and stupid.

“Taya,” he said as they entered the main house, “you go on to the guest room. I’ll catch up.”

She looked up at him with concern. “Why?”

“I need to do something,” he said. “Neshi would shame me if I didn’t. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Ah,” she said. “Do what you need to do, then.”

Taya went to the guest room and Mandir turned down a different hallway.

He found Ilinos in his quarters, sitting on the bed next to a pair of overstuffed saddlebags and surrounded by wrinkled clothes. As Mandir watched silently in the door, Ilinos tried unsuccessfully to cram another shirt into the saddlebags.

“Want some help?” Mandir asked.