Tricksters Queen (41 page)

The man from the palace raised a hand. "Lord Sevmire dismissed three of his secretaries this morning. He says he refuses to work with those he cannot trust. And there is an armed guard at the mages' house. Stormwings roost on the roof peak. No one is allowed to leave."

Aly whistled silently. "An interesting development."

Bacar, the footman from across the street, raised his hand. "The housekeeper at Murtebo House was found with her throat cut. There was a paper pinned to her clothes that read
Spy"

A ragamuffin wearing only a loincloth spoke. "Up on Junoh Street, they found two like that, a footman and a maid. Dead the same way, both wearing
Spy
signs. That's what the folk who found them said."

"Any more?" Aly inquired. They all shook their heads. She nodded. "Very well. You already know the rumor that the storm that sank the boys' ship was not a natural one. And here's another thing—a source I trust says the boat went to pieces suspiciously fast. Add also that the mages who serve the Crown appear to be under house arrest. Those are interesting bits of news, aren't they?"

Her listeners nodded.

One of the Obeliten maids asked, "Duani, everyone knows the Crown mages have been known to meddle with weather before, though they know they can't control it." There was a chorus of yesses and calls of "She's right." Emboldened, the maid continued, "And isn't it strange how the one child saved belonged to a family known to be great friends of the regents?"

Aly thought that was more luck than attention to that particular boy's life. At the same time, she had not forgotten that the only heir to a family title on the
Rittevon
had been Elsren. Dunevon's other three companions had been younger sons unlikely to inherit the title. Their families could afford to lose them, a fact of which the new rulers had been aware.

Aly nodded. "Those also are good points to make with those you talk to," she told her people. "Ask your particular friends on the streets if Mithros and the Goddess are not angry because they are represented by monarchs with the blood of children on their hands. Especially the Goddess, as children are her care." She noticed their startled glances: they had not thought of this. "One more thing. The royal fortress at Galodon has lost at least half of its soldiers and sailors to bad food. The strongest fighting force in Rajmuat is now only the Rittevon Guard." She waved them out. "Be watchful, and take no unnecessary chances," she warned as they prepared to go. "We are going to make our new monarchs very unhappy, and for that I need you all."

A number of them touched the arm of Aly’s chair on their way out. "Gunapi the Sunrose guard you, Duani," some whispered. Others remarked, "The luck turns our way."

Aly waved them off, not sure of what was going on, uncomfortable with the awe of her in their faces.

Supper was quiet. Aly ate at her worktable, reading over reports and making notes. She was sweating as she burned the reports she had condensed when Fesgao knocked on her door and looked in. "We're gathering," he told her.

Aly nodded and collected her papers that the other leaders might use. In the meeting room, she saw that everyone was present but Dove.

"Perhaps we should begin?" she asked Ulasim. "I think at the moment Dove wants to be with the duchess."

"No doubt you are right," Ulasim agreed. Quedanga closed the door as Ysul woke their security spells.

Aly had just finished passing out the reports when a knock sounded on the door.

"She came after all," Quedanga murmured, surprised, as she opened it.

In walked Dove, followed by Winnamine and Nuritin. The conspirators started to their feet, all but Ulasim, who measured the two haggard women with his eyes. In this room he was the raka general, who stood at attention for no one.

"I thought it was time," Dove told him, a mulish set to her mouth.
"Past
time."

"The rebellion—if that's what you are about, I want to be part of it," said Winnamine, her voice quavering. "I've known—my lord and I knew—there was something going on, but we let it go. We did not much care for our laws and hoped that a good fright would lead to better government. You were all so careful that we could not see how anyone might discover you. And ... I want to help."

"As do I," said Nuritin, folding her arms over her chest. "There are others, just as appalled by this child murder as we are. Others who can bring arms and finances and fighters to this cause. In fact, one of them is at my house in town."

Ulasim looked from Dove to the two older women. "You see me in a delicate position."

"You're going to have to trust my judgment at some point," Dove reminded him. "I think that now would be a good time. I won't be a puppet, Ulasim. If I rule, I
rule."

Ochobu poked Nawat with a finger. "Give the Lady Nuritin your chair," she ordered. To Nuritin she said, "Who is this guest?"

"I have sent Jesi for him. She knows to be careful," replied Nuritin, lowering herself into her chair.

Ulasim gestured for the duchess to take Aly's seat as Dove assumed her usual place.

"We just let them in?" demanded Quedanga. "And when members of their families die, what is to keep them from running to the monarchs with all they know?"

"Members of this family
have
died," snapped Nuritin. Quedanga looked down.

"If we were going to go to the Crown, we would have done it long before this," said Winnamine, her voice tired. "While we still could walk away from you with our own skins intact. No one will believe we were ignorant of your activities all this time."

"We'd like to avoid a bloodbath," Aly told Quedanga. "So unsightly, and it will give entirely the wrong impression to any greedy foreigners who are watching us. That means coming to terms with some luarin."

"You think the great lords will give up their lands and titles to the raka?" asked Nuritin.

"They will have to give up
some
of their lands," replied Fesgao. "But let us face it, many of the raka families who held those titles originally are long dead. Unless a luarin has been cruel to his or her people, or has supported the Rittevons and all they did, we must be ready to negotiate."

"How can we trust
your
allies?" demanded Quedanga. "Those luarin you plot with? Any of them could be an agent of the Crown simply waiting for you to pose a real threat before he reports you—or she reports you."

Aly cleared her throat. "With regard to the main members of their group, I can vouch for their loyalty," she said modestly. "I've had them watched." With normal spies she would have waited for them to observe their quarry for months before she could say with near-certainty that they were loyal to their fellow conspirators. With the darkings able to follow those who met in the Teak Sitting Room, she was certain that none of them was in communication with the Crown. Not only had her small allies watched the heads of those families, but they had inspected their desks, their wardrobes, and even their diaries.

"They could have hidden something from you," argued Quedanga.

Aly shook her head. "You must trust me."

"What good might you do us?" Ulasim asked the duchess and Lady Nuritin. "You are formidable allies in your own persons, but we need fighters, and weapons, and horses. We need ships, and crews. We need money."

"All of which we have," said the duchess.

"What if your warriors choose not to obey your wishes?" Chenaol asked, curious rather than hostile. "What if they report you to our new rulers?"

"Remind them of Topabaw's fate, and that of two commanders of the King's Watch," said Dove. "Remind them that Imajane and Rubinyan are less than loyal to those who serve them."

"You might also want to mention those dead persons who have appeared with the word
spy
on their clothing recently," Aly murmured. "And those who will be found tomorrow, and the day after. I think we'll have the Windward District fairly well cleared by then." She gazed at them under her lashes. Everyone had turned to look at her. She added, "After that, we'll start on the rest of Rajmuat. District by district, that's the best way to handle these things."

"And only think, she is on
our
side," Fesgao said at last.

Nuritin smiled frostily at Aly. "Or we need simply to remind such would-be traitors that the Crown will not believe they were innocent while their fellows conspired."

Aly grinned. "That will work, too."

Someone rapped on the door in the rebels' signal. Aly went to open it, to find Guchol outside. "Lady Nuritin's secretary, Jesi, is here with two priests of the Black God."

Aly looked back at Nuritin, who nodded regally. "Bring them," she ordered.

"Here?"
asked Guchol, startled. "But . . ." One look at Aly's raised eyebrow changed her mind. "Right away, Duani." Guchol trotted off down the hall.

"Duani?" Aly heard Nuritin ask. Aly remained in the doorway, listening to the talk as she watched the hall.

"She is our spymaster," Ulasim explained. "Her people call her that."

"And how did a maid from Tortall become a spymaster?" demanded Nuritin, outraged.

Aly flapped her hand for silence as people came down the hall, Jesi in the lead. She nodded when she saw Aly, and stood aside to let the priests go ahead. When they walked into the room, Imgehai Qeshi put back her hood, revealing her pale luarin face lit by amber eyes. With a nod to Win-namine and Nuritin, she leaned against the wall as Aly locked the door. The other priest looked around the room from the shadow of his hood, then pushed it back. Aly recognized the eagle nose and short-cropped gray hair of Duke Nomru. Some of the raka murmured in surprise.

You sly thing! Aly thought, beaming at Nuritin with approval. All the realm's soldiers and spies are hunting for him, and you've had him tucked away in your vacant town house! She bowed to Nuritin to show her appreciation.

Winnamine and Dove stood to kiss the renegade duke on the cheek. Nomru's eyes swept the room, lingering on some faces, then settling on Ulasim. The raka met the duke's gaze with one of equal strength. Ulasim would make sure these people, normally luarin masters, would learn right away who was in charge here.

After a moment the duke asked Ulasim, "May I join you?" Ulasim nodded.

Secret stretched a long neck up from its place in Aly's bead necklace to whisper to her.

"Excuse me," Aly said. She went into her workroom for privacy, locking her door behind her. Taking off her necklace, she held it in her hands as it reshaped itself into her two darkings. "Say that again?"

They conferred. Finally Trick said, "Servants took food to house of mages inside Gray Palace walls, took food to guards on watch. A man of Rittevon Lancers comes to say fresh guards come soon, but guards eat now because mess is closed. Guards eat. Dark come. Guards start to fall. They try to breathe, but breath not come. Their faces swell. They lay down, no breath coming. They stop trying to breathe."

"How do you know?" asked Aly, her mind ticking away. "All the guards? They're all dead?"

"Peony go to mage house, after Grosbeak run away," explained Trick. "Peony not want to go with Grosbeak, and we think darking should watch mage house. Darkings know mages. They stir things up. Peony stays at mage house."

"Oh, dear," Aly said ruefully. "I didn't even try to find Peony."

Trick and Secret shook their heads. "Darkings here to work. Aly can’t do everything," Trick said. "We think of some."

"No, I do not remember everything. And I should have taken you more seriously," she admitted.

"Darkings learn," Trick said with pride. "Peony check all guards outside mage house. All dead. Peony go inside mage house. Five mages there and families. All dead."

Aly felt her bowels tighten. Were the new rulers
mad?
"What else?" she asked.

"Wagons coming to mage house," Secret continued. "Men packing up dead mages, dead guards. Rubinyan send them. He say, give the dead to meat-eating fish. He wants no one but trusted guards to know what happened to them."

Aly shuddered. It was a fate she would not wish on anyone. "What are the king and queen doing now?" Aly wanted to know. "Are they, I don't know, slumbering the sleep of those without cares?"

Both darkings shook their heads.

"Imajane screaming and throwing things at Rubinyan," replied Secret. "Bottles, brushes, mirrors. She says Rubinyan ..." It cocked its head as if listening. "She says he is tumbling a lady?"

"Ah," Aly replied. "It means he is making love with a lady. If Imajane is throwing things, she believes he is in love with some other woman. Is she still throwing things?"

"She has nothing to throw unless she picks up chair," said Trick. "Uh-oh."

"She picked up chair," Secret explained.

Shaking her head, Aly returned to the meeting room, interrupting an intense discussion of numbers of household men-at-arms. She waited for a lull in the conversation, then announced, "I have some interesting news." She looked at Ulasim, who nodded for her to speak. "Someone—I suspect Imajane—has poisoned the court mages. Either a natural poison was used, one no one would notice in food, or they didn't look at their supper properly."

They stared at her. Nomru was the first to speak. "My dear young woman, not even Imajane is so mad. For that matter, how can you possibly know this?"

"She has means that we do not," Chenaol told him.

Aly knew Chenaol probably thought the god had told her. That was good enough for the time being.

"Imajane would certainly be that mad if she were getting rid of evidence," said Nuritin. "Everyone knows the storm that sank the
Rittevon
was no accident. The Rittevons have been wary of mages since that cabal that worked for Carthak was uncovered fifty years ago and since Oron's mage killed his father. And the Crown does have a reputation for doing away with their tools, once used."

"Rubinyan is no Rittevon," Imgehai Qeshi remarked.

"Rubinyan didn't know," Aly told her. "She ordered their deaths without consulting him. He is quite upset."