Текст книги "Cascet of Souls"

Автор книги: Lynn Flewelling

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Seregil heard men talking in low voices, one of them recognizable as Reltheus. He waited until no one was looking and slipped through the door into the corridor.

The voices were coming from a half-open doorway on the left. Seregil crept silently closer, until he could peer through the crack between the door and frame.

As he’d guessed, Reltheus was speaking with a middle-aged scribe, recognizable in his silver-trimmed green robe. As Seregil watched, the man handed Reltheus a packet, which the duke tucked away into the front of his coat. Money changed hands.

Caught you!thought Seregil, amazed as the brazenness of it. Their business seemed to be concluded and Seregil quickly retreated to the salon. By the time Reltheus appeared, Seregil was halfway across the room, thumbing through a book on the life of Queen Idrilain the First. He watched Reltheus from the corner of his eye as the duke went to Elani and began some animated conversation. No one seemed to have taken any notice of Seregil’s brief absence, or Reltheus’s. Perhaps it was not unusual for guests to move freely about here. Seregil wandered slowly back to the door, which was still ajar, and glanced in. There was no sign of the other man.

It was too risky to go exploring the back rooms, not knowing what servants there might be lurking about, including the scribe. You couldn’t always get away with saying you were looking for the toilet-especially here.

So he made small talk with the other guests and kept a surreptitious eye on Reltheus, but the duke’s conduct was above suspicion.

Seregil and Alec were taking their leave late that afternoon when Reltheus caught Seregil by the sleeve. Seregil’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he’d been seen spying after all. Instead Reltheus said, “What would you and Alec say to a bit of gambling at the Three Dragons?”

“I haven’t been there in years.” Seregil gave him a self-deprecating smile. “That establishment is a bit above our station.”

“You’ll be my guests, of course.”

“Then we’d be delighted.”

“Excellent. General Sarien is coming along as well. Will you join me in my carriage?”

“You’re most kind.”

“Very good! If you’ll wait a moment, I will make my farewells to the ladies.”

“You’re looking pleased with yourself,” Alec noted as they waited for Reltheus and the general in the corridor.

“Tell you later,” Seregil replied, nodding slightly in the direction of the watchful footmen. “By the way, I hope you didn’t mind me accepting Reltheus’s invitation on your behalf.”

“Of course not. You know the Three Dragons?”

“I’ve been there a few times. You’ll need plenty of money if you want to gamble. That’s not why I accepted, though.” He lowered his voice. “With any luck, I can finagle us another invitation back to his house afterward.” He wanted a look at the letter Reltheus had gotten from the scribe.

Alec leveled an accusing finger at him and whispered, “I’m notgetting drunk again!”

Seregil grinned, making no promises. “And did you and Elani have an interesting conversation?”

“We did. She more or less admitted that her heart is set on Danos. According to her, he’s not only handsome, but a poet and an excellent archer. And he makes her laugh.”

“Good marriages have been made on less. What about the attentive young officer today?”

“Apparently her mother thinks highly of him, and keeps throwing him and others in the princess’s way. It didn’t sound like anything more than that.” Alec shook his head. “It’s going to ruin Danos’s chances, isn’t it, if his father’s arrested?”

“I expect so.”

Alec cast a sad look back in the direction of Elani’s chambers. “If she really does love him, that will break her heart.”

“It’s duty first for royalty, Alec. So long as she makes a respectable marriage and produces a girl baby or two, she can take a second consort when she likes, or lovers. Even Danos.”

“It’s not the same, though, is it?”

“No, tali, it’s not,” Seregil said, taking his hand. Alec hadn’t been much older than Elani was now when he’d fallen in love with Seregil, and Seregil with him. If they’d been separated by circumstance? He shook off the dark thought. “But we didn’t make this mess; Reltheus did.”

CHAPTER 26. Lord Seregil Distinguishes Himself

“MY lord, it’s said that there is no way to cheat at bakshi, so I can only assume you are using magic,” Duke Foris growled that evening as Seregil slapped down one of his carnelian pieces and captured the duke’s spear.

The Three Dragons gambling house stood a few doors down from the Drake and was even more opulent, attracting a clientele made up of higher-ranking nobles. Young Selin had been invited, as well, and several other nobles Seregil knew only slightly; General Sarien was also there in the crowd that had gathered to watch the battle being played out between Seregil and Foris. Seregil’s reputation was well known up and down the Street of Lights, as was that of Foris, a young rake with a reputation of his own-one that had gotten the man banned from several of the brothels here in the Street, including Eirual’s, as it happened. Seregil was enjoying besting the man very much.

“No magic, Your Grace, just Illior’s luck,” Alec drawled, leaning on the back of Seregil’s chair.

“I’ve played him enough myself to agree, Foris,” Reltheus told the man. “He’s just damn good, and lucky.”

“It’s all right,” Seregil said, sliding one of his carnelian pieces into place in front of Foris’s lapis one to blunt another spear. Picking up the captured stones one by one, he glanced up at the duke with a cold smile. “I’m sure it wasn’t your intent to impugn my honor.”

The duke, however, was a little drunk and not put off by the veiled threat. Lord Seregil was better known for avoiding

duels than fighting them. “Nine rounds in a row? You must have a charm on you somewhere!”

A murmur went through the crowd; it was a serious charge.

Seregil leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. “Search me, Your Grace. I swear by Illior you’ll find nothing of the sort.” He looked around at the crowd with the slightly inane grin he affected when dealing with situations like this among the nobles. “Why, the rest of you can wager on it, but I say your money is best laid on me!”

“I’ll take that wager. Have him strip!” one of the ladies cried, holding up her silk purse, and the cry was quickly taken up by the crowd.

Foris’s smile was mean. “Yes, I’ll take that wager. Fifty gold sesters says he has a luck piece or mark on him. What say you, Lord Seregil? Will you stand by your offer?”

“I suppose I must,” Seregil said with a shrug.

“You can’t be serious!” Reltheus murmured, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“It’s a matter of honor,” Seregil said firmly.

“But how will we know it?” the general asked. “A charm could be anything. Is there a wizard here?”

“Here’s one!” someone at the back of the crowd shouted.

Old Reneus, one of the senior Oreska wizards, was none too pleased to be pressed into service for such a menial task, but with some cajoling and a fresh cup of wine he finally consented.

“Now you’ve done it,” Alec muttered as Seregil handed him his sword belt and pulled off his boots and socks.

The wizard took each one with evident distaste and quickly handed them back. “No magic here.”

“Better than a duel,” Seregil whispered back, then climbed onto his chair so everyone had a good view of him. “Really, Foris, you’re throwing your money away.” He slipped off his coat and dropped it into Alec’s waiting arms. The wizard took it and searched through the pockets. Seregil pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside with a flourish.

“There, you see? Nothing,” said Seregil, turning for the crowd to inspect his bare torso.

Foris smirked up at him. “There are still places to hide something. Keep going.”

“Perhaps he has it hanging from his cock!” one wag suggested loudly.

“I’d like to see that,” the woman who’d placed the first bet concurred. “Come on now, Lord Seregil. Out with it!”

One thing Seregil had never managed to master was blushing at will, but he made a good job of looking comically outraged. “You’re not serious? Really now, Your Grace, I’ve left those days behind me.”

“A wager is a wager, my lord, unless you’d rather settle this on the plain?” said Foris.

“I’m afraid he’s within his rights, my lord,” Sarien reminded him with an avid look in his eye. Seregil made a mental note to find out what sort of brothels the man frequented, if any.

Dueling was not allowed inside the city, but a blind eye was turned on whatever went on outside its walls, and killing someone in a formal duel there was not considered murder. It had been some time since Seregil had fought for his honor.

“Very well, then.” He unlaced his leather trousers and pushed them and his linen down with a graceful flourish. The crowd exploded in applause and laughter. Those closest to Alec slapped him on the back. Seregil climbed off the chair and stood grinning, hands on hips, as his trousers were inspected, then took them back and dressed as carefully as if he were in front of his looking glass at home, smoothing out every wrinkle. Money changed hands around him; it was clear that public sentiment was on his side, for whatever reason.

“Bravely done, young man!” General Sarien said, clapping Seregil on the shoulder before wandering off in the direction of the wine servers.

Taking his place again, Seregil raised his chin and grinned across the gaming table at his opponent. “Shall we continue, Your Grace?”

More applause erupted at the duke’s expense.

Caught, Foris had no choice but to finish-and lose-the game. With gritted teeth he paid off the wagers, swept his

stones back into their fancy embroidered bag, and strode off with all the dignity he could muster.

Seregil looked around at his admirers. “Next?”

The woman who’d championed the wager took the chair Foris had vacated and poured her stones into the polished tray in front of her. They were made of blue opal, and she held one up, showing him Illior’s crescent inlaid in silver on the back of it. “The Lightbringer will have to decide between us, my lord, for I’ve been known to have the Immortal’s favor, as well. Or would you like to inspect my clothing for charms first?”

“A tempting offer, Marquise, but your honor is above reproach.”

“You’re very gallant, Lord Seregil, but now I’m disappointed,” she said with a teasing smile. “Well, you had your chance. Shall we play?”

They were still arranging their stones for the first round when a young page made his way through the crowd and whispered something to Alec. He, in turn, leaned down and whispered in Seregil’s ear, “Kepi’s outside.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope?” said Reltheus.

“A messenger,” Seregil told him. “Alec, be a dear and deal with him, would you?”

“I promised Palmani I’d make an early night of it, and it’s nearly midnight,” Reltheus noted after half a dozen rounds.

“Oh, I’d rather hoped we could get in a few more games together,” Seregil told him.

“Come to the house, then, you and Alec, when you’ve finished your business. I believe I might have another bakshi game or two in me.”

“In that case, I hope you have a few coins left in your purse. Just let me go see where Alec has gotten to, and I’ll meet you at the house.”

He found Alec and Kepi on the pavement near the entrance to the gambling house, under the watchful eye of the doorman, who clearly disapproved of such an unsightly character in the Street.

Seregil hustled them both quickly out of sight into the shadows beyond the reach of the street lanterns.

“What is it?” Seregil demanded.

“It’s Atre,” Alec told him. “He’s gone and gotten himself stabbed.”

“That actor fellow’s a friend of yours, ain’t he?” asked Kepi, looking pleased with himself.

“How in the world did you know that?”

Kepi just winked and grinned.

“Bilairy’s Balls! What happened?” asked Seregil.

“Don’t know the particulars, only that he’s over in Brass Alley, back of the Skulpin. I just heard of it and I come straight up to tell you.”

“The Skulpin? What was he doing there?” The gambling house was in the unfashionable-and at this hour, dangerous-area near Atre’s old theater and catered mostly to locals. There were plenty of cutpurses, bawds, and footpads about at this time of night, ready to relieve the unwary of their winnings.

“Is he alive?” asked Alec.

“He was when my friend heard about it. I went to your house and they told me you was here. I come straight on.”

“Good lad. We’ll deal with it.” Seregil took half a dozen coppers from his purse and gave them to the boy. Kepi made him another ill-formed bow and took off at a run, darting between horses and carriages. He was soon out of sight among the evening crowd.

“Damnation!” Seregil scrubbed a hand back through his hair. He needed to find out what the scribe had given Reltheus, but he could hardly abandon the actor in such circumstances.

“I’ll see to Atre,” Alec told him. “You go with Reltheus and make some excuse for me.”

“All right. As soon as you’re finished, come to his house, or send word to me there if you won’t be coming.”

They walked in silence to the nearby stable to collect Alec’s horse. A groom led Windrunner out. As Alec went to mount, Seregil caught him by the arm and brushed his lips over Alec’s. “Take care, tali.”

Alec gave him a knowing look. “You know I will. And you.” He swung up into the saddle and rode out into the

throng. Trying to ignore the knot of tension in his belly, Seregil went back inside to find Reltheus.

Alec road to Brass Alley at a gallop and found the actor alive and groaning on a couch in a poorly lit back room of the gambling den. He was dressed uncharacteristically plainly without a jewel on him-an apparent attempt to fit in with his surroundings. Or perhaps he’d been robbed.

A small crowd of ne’er-do-wells and doxies were peering in from the doorway, but parted for Alec at the sight of his fine clothes and sword.

A drysian was with Atre, tending to a wound on his belly. The actor was white-faced and looked frightened, but at least he was conscious.

“What happened?” Alec asked, kneeling down beside him and taking the man’s hand.

“Oh, my lord!” Atre gasped, clinging to Alec’s hand with both of his, which were sticky with blood. “How did you know?”

“Never mind that. What in Bilairy’s name happened to you?” A few patches of stage cosmetics near his hairline stood out against his milk-pale skin, Alec noted absently. He must have been in a hurry to come here.

“It didn’t happen in my establishment, my lord,” a round-faced man in dusty velvet told him. “This is an honest house.”

Alec doubted that.

“It was a girl, on the street,” Atre told him. “She said she was hurt, and when I tried to help her-look what she did!”

“It’s not as bad as all that,” the drysian scoffed as he bandaged the wound.

“And took your purse, I suppose,” said Alec. It was a common ploy among the girl cutpurses. “What are you doing alone in a place like this?”

“Oh, you know-” Atre was too pale to blush but he looked rather ashamed of himself.

“Got tired of the pampered nobles and came back here, looking for a bit of rougher fun?” Brader growled as he

strode into the room and stood over Atre. Apparently he’d gotten word, as well.

The actor looked away, saying nothing.

“This is no place for the likes of you,” the drysian scolded. “Stay with your fashionable friends and find your fun there. I have better things to do than patch up you silly thrill seekers.”

“I will, Brother. By the Maker, I will!” Atre mumbled, then looked up imploringly at Alec. “Please, my lord, don’t leave me here.”

“Of course not,” Alec assured him, then turned to the master of the house. “Is it possible to hire a carriage at this hour?”

“No need,” said Brader. “I brought the cart.”

The drysian finished with the bandage and straightened up. “There, that should hold your guts in well enough. See that you keep the wound clean and it should be healed in a week or so, if a bit sore.”

“I have to be onstage tomorrow!”

“That’s why you have an understudy,” Brader muttered, handing the healer some silver.

The drysian nodded to them and took his leave.

“Oh, Calieus will be pleased!” Atre groaned. “He hangs over me like a carrion crow, just waiting for something like this to happen.”

Alec chuckled. “It’s his job, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. Good night, my lord.” Brader lifted Atre in his arms as if he weighed no more than a child. Alec followed them outside and watched Brader place the wounded man on some folded blankets in the back of the cart.

“Really, I think a carriage would be more comfortable,” said Alec. “I’ll happily pay.”

“No need, my lord,” Brader said gruffly. It was clear that he was angry with his friend and perhaps meant to deny him the comfort of better transport. Or that’s what Alec thought until Brader added, “With respect, we take care of our own.”

He climbed in and snapped the reins over the grey mare’s back.

That was a bit rude!Alec thought as the cart rattled away. I might as well have stayed with Seregil.

He was on his way back to the duke’s house, riding past a narrow side lane, when he noticed a hand on the ground at the mouth of it, just visible in the faint light of a nearby street lantern. Reining in, he got down and hurried over to see if someone was hurt. A young, poorly dressed man lay facedown in the dirt. Checking quickly for signs of footpads, Alec rolled him over. His eyes were open, but not fixed in death. It was another of the mysterious sleepers. The man was young, with the disreputable appearance of a footpad and the odor of a gate runner. From the looks of him, he’d been lying there for a day or more. All the same, Alec felt guilty at the thought of leaving him to die in the street like a sick dog.

With some effort, he slung the man over Windrunner’s saddle and led the horse to a nearby Dalnan temple. It was late, but temples didn’t close, at least not a Dalnan one. It would only take a moment.

A young, brown-robed girl answered the bell and helped him carry the stricken man in.

“What have you brought me, young man?” asked the old priestess in charge.

“One stricken with the sleeping death, Sister.”

“Ah, another. Bring him into the sick room.”

“Another? You’ve seen more here in the Upper City?”

“Only a few.”

There were two younger boys and a man with the flattened features and slanted eyes of the god-touched laid out on clean pallets.

Leaving the drysian and her helpers to take care of the man, Alec bent over the boys. “This one’s gone,” he said softly, resting his hand on the chest of the smaller boy.

The drysian went to the child and pressed a finger to his wrist, then nodded sadly. “Astellus carry him gently. This one lasted longer than most, from what we’ve heard. Who knows about others left to die unnoticed in some hovel or tenement?”

“How many others have you seen here, besides these?”

“Two others. I think they must have made their way up from the harbor.”

“Sister, when these stricken ones come to you, do you inspect them closely?”

“We do, my lord, looking for any kind of wound.”

“And you find nothing?”

“Nothing unusual, just the occasional bruises or cuts, but not on all.”

He thought a moment, trying to decide what Seregil would ask if he were here. “No markings?”

“What sort of markings?”

“Any kind. Guild marks, tattoos, brands.”

“No, my lord, nothing like that.”

“Are there more of these sick people at any of the other temples in the Upper City?” asked Alec, still kneeling by the dead boy.

“No, but as I said, with us being so close to the Harbor Way, it’s us who finds them. The main temple down in Grampus Street is where most of them are being taken, as there’s more found on that side of Trade Street.”

Only a few streets separated Trade from some of the lowest stews in Rhiminee. He took out his gambling winnings and gave them to her. “Thank you, Sister, and Maker’s Mercy.”

Her eyes widened at the weight of the purse. “Maker’s Mercy to you, too, kind sir.”

The whole household was awake when Brader arrived with the cart.

“What happened?” Merina demanded in alarm, following behind him as Brader carried Atre to his room.

“A foolish accident on my part,” Atre gasped. He made no objection as she helped him out of his clothes and into his ornate bed. “I found myself missing some of our former haunts-”

Merina exchanged a doubtful look with her husband. “More fool you, then. What would we do without you?”

“We’ll be doing without him for a few days, at least,” Brader told her, glowering down at Atre, then at the anxious

people hovering at the door. “Go on to bed, all of you. I’ll sit with him for a while.”

He closed the door firmly after them and pulled a chair up to the bedside. “What in the name of Soru were you thinking, going down there without me?”

“You were off with your family, weren’t you?” Atre’s tone bordered on accusing, and not for the first time. Atre had never married, never cared enough about any woman to do so, though he’d had no end of romantic conquests. If it had been up to him, Brader would have done the same. “Someone has to go. We’re running low again, you know.”

“It’s getting dangerous. You’re taking too many chances.”

“What choice do we have, my friend? Unless…”

Brader clenched his fists. “No!”

Atre gave a maddening little shrug. “Well then. Fetch me a draught, will you, please?”

Brader went to the wardrobe and took out the leather elixir box, selecting a milky phial at random.

Breaking the seal, Atre drank it down greedily, hand pressed to his bandaged belly. “Ah, that eases it a bit. Another.”

“You drank just yesterday. It’s too soon for so much.”

“Not with a wound!” the other man snapped, holding out his hand.

“You’ll still have to pretend to be hurt for a few days,” he reminded him as he went to fetch him another bottle.

“Acting is so much easier when you’re not in pain,” Atre shot back.

“Too easy, perhaps,” Brader muttered. “At least take warning from this.”

At Reltheus’s villa, Seregil and the rest of their party from the Three Dragons settled down over wine and pipes in the smaller salon.

Reltheus disappeared for a moment and came back without his coat on, he noted with interest. Seregil sat laughing over his wine with the others for some time, then announced a full bladder and walked a bit unsteadily from the room.

Reltheus’s study lay just down the corridor. The coat was

thrown carelessly over a chair and the pilfered letter was in the desk, concealed under a stack of other correspondence. Seregil hid behind the study door to read it, so as to be able to hear anyone approaching, and see who it was through the crack in the door. The letter was dated yesterday.

Your Majesty, Dearest Aunt, I made sacrifices at the Sakor Temple for your success and safety yesterday. I hope the Immortal will continue to smile upon you.

It has been raining here, so Master Seneus has held our practices in the smaller ballroom. He praises my sword work and says I’m continuing to improve. I’m sure I will learn even faster when you return as my teacher. No one is your match. I miss your guidance so much!

Seregil smiled to himself. He’d seen a great many young ladies’ letters, and it was clear that Elani was working up to something her aunt was not going to like. Seregil already suspected what that might be. He read on.

Your Lily had eight fine pups two days ago, all healthy and nursing well. She’s a wonderful mother. Duke Reltheus has already asked me to ask you if he might have one of them when they are old enough to give away. I told him you would be back by then and he could ask you himself. I hope you will. The duke has shown me such kindness and I can’t help thinking of him as a sort of uncle. He’s already planning a grand autumn hunt to welcome you home. The deer on his estate are thick this year. He was so very pleased to hear that you speak well of his son, Captain Danos.

Seregil wondered what Elani would think of the news that her swain had been suspected of treason.

Duke Reltheus reads me all of Danos’s letters and it fills me with such excitement! I can’t wait until I can be tested on the field of battle myself. It has been so difficult this summer, being praised for my skills, but having no chance to prove my mettle against a real enemy! As much as I pray for victory to

come soon, in my heart I worry that I will have no chance to see battle before it’s all over. I visit the tombs of our ancestors to give offerings, especially to Queen Gherilain the First.

I have a favor to ask of you, dear Aunt. As I wrote to you in my last letter, I have had occasion to come to know Lord Alec and our kinsman, Lord Seregil and can’t help wondering at your refusal to appoint them to my entourage. They are such good men. Alec is the best archer I have ever seen, even better than my own master of archery, and he has taught me so much! I beg you to reconsider.

Seregil frowned. The last thing he wanted was to return to court, and couldn’t imagine Alec wanting to, either. There was probably little to fear, though. Phoria might tolerate them being friends with her heir, but court appointments seemed very unlikely. It would be so awkward finding a way to refuse, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the girl’s feelings. If the wind did seem to be blowing that way when Phoria got back, he’d have to embroil himself in some suitable scandal and disgrace himself long enough to be banished from the royal presence for a while. Bothersome, but easily arranged.

He replaced the letter in the desk and made a quick check of what was in Reltheus’s secret cache today, which turned out to be one coded document. A scan proved it to be another field report from Rider Caem, which must have been sent before he’d been caught. It was long and took several moments to puzzle out, but finally Seregil read Klia joined queen at Vremont. Heard shouting from royal tent. K chafes at her losses. Chided by queen, K vowed loyalty. K called her officers to her tent for secret talk. Repeat loyalty to queen. Battle tomorrow. Forefront again.

The battle of Vremont had been reported by the royal heralds as a victory several weeks ago. He wondered how long it would take Reltheus to notice that no more messages were coming.

Seregil put everything back the way he’d found it, and made a quick search of the rest of the large desk. In the

locked drawer he found the beginning of a letter to the queen in which Reltheus expressed some concern about Elani’s evident “infatuation” with Alec. He worried that it was unseemly for her to show feelings toward a young man known to be another nobleman’s lover.

Well, well, you double-dealing old fox, Seregil thought with wry amusement. You think there’s a weasel loose in the henhouse and you’re not about to stand for it. Still, Reltheus must think he or Alec could be useful or he wouldn’t keep them in his circle as he had.

He made himself a bit more disheveled and rejoined the company. Reltheus was playing bakshi with Selin while the others talked. Seregil caught Elani’s name.

“That was a pleasant afternoon with Her Highness, wasn’t it?” Seregil drawled drunkenly, flopping down on the velvet tufted couch beside Stenmir just to annoy the man. “The more I see of that girl, the better I like her. Marvelous wise head on those young shoulders. What a queen she’ll make!”

“There are those who disagree,” Count Tolin sniffed. “I’m surprised you don’t have more to say about Princess Klia being passed over, given your friendship with her.”

Seregil waved a dismissive hand. “She doesn’t aspire to be queen, as far as I know. Loyal as the day is long.”

“The days are getting shorter though, aren’t they?” Stenmir mused, deep in his cups.

Reltheus gave the man a sharp look, then smiled at Seregil. “I’m sure yours is the more valuable observation.”

“Don’t tell me people are worried about her trying to take the throne!” Seregil exclaimed.

“There are those who think she might.”

Seregil pretended to swallow another mouthful of wine and shrugged. “Reckless, foolhardy gossip. Don’t they know that could rip the country apart?”

“I told you he’s the queen’s man,” Reltheus said to the room at large as he pushed his last bakshi stone into place and defeated Selin.

“To the queen!” Seregil raised his cup unsteadily and the others joined in the toast.

Reltheus stood and held out a hand to him. “I need some

air and you look like you could do with some, as well. Come take a turn in the garden with me.”

Seregil wavered to his feet, still playing half inebriated, and took Reltheus’s arm. “Just the thing!”

The rain had stopped and a light fog had risen from the harbor, pleasant against the skin.

“I must say, it’s been a delight getting to know you, my friend,” Reltheus said warmly, patting the hand on his arm. “For all your reputation, I believe there’s more to you than you let on.”

Seregil schooled his expression to a tipsy grin, wondering if Reltheus meant to slit his throat here in the darkness. “I hardly think so. As I’ve often said, most of what you hear about me is true.”

“But I’ve heard a great deal, and not all of it scandalous. You were an important envoy in Aurenen, it’s said, threading the complicated politics of that country.”

Seregil relaxed slightly. “I was glad to be useful to Skala. I love my adopted homeland very much.”

“And you wouldn’t see it come to harm.”

“Of course not.”

“Then I may have a way for you to forestall that.”

Seregil stopped in the light of a garden lantern and looked up at him. “Me? How?”

“Oh, just a little thing,” Reltheus assured him. “As it happens, I have reason to believe that your friend Duke Malthus may be one of those wanting to put Klia on the throne in Elani’s place. I fear he might even be planning to assassinate Phoria and the girl. And I think our friend General Sarien may be in on the plot, as well.”

Seregil gave him a horrified look. “That can’t be!”

“I do hope for their sakes that I’m wrong, but I’m trying to find out for certain before I go to the vicegerent. And I think you can help me in that. You socialize with Malthus frequently. Has he ever said anything to you that would make you think he’s unsympathetic to Elani as heir?”