Текст книги "Poison Study"
Автор книги: Maria V. Snyder
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
After the praise died down, Brazell made the announcement that the construction of his new factory was complete. Then he went on to more mundane matters of how much wool had been sheared and the expected output of the cotton plantations.
Military District 5 produced and dyed all the thread for Ixia, and then sent it to General Franis’s MD-3 to be woven into fabric. Franis nodded his head in concern as he wrote down the figures Brazell quoted. He was the youngest of the Generals, and had the habit of tracing the purple diamonds on his uniform with a finger whenever he was concentrating.
I dozed on my stool as fuzzy thoughts gathered like storm clouds in my mind. Strange dreams about brandy, border patrols and permits swirled like snowflakes. Then the images turned bright and sharp as a picture of a young woman dressed in white hunting furs snapped into my mind.
She held a bloody spear high in the air in celebration. A dead snow cat lay at her feet. She slammed the tip of her weapon into the pack ice and drew a knife. Cutting a slash in the cat’s fur, she used a cup to collect the blood that spilled out.
She exalted as she drank, scarlet rivulets spilling down her chin. I heard her thoughts clearly in my mind. “No one has managed this feat,” she thought. “No one but I!” she shouted over the snow. Her exhilaration filled my heart. “Proof that I am a strong cunning hunter. Proof that my manhood was taken from me. Proof that I am a man. Men will not rule me any longer,” she cried. “Become the snow cat to live with snow cats, become a man to live with men.”
The hunter turned her face. At first, I took her to be the Commander’s sister. They shared the same thin delicate features and black hair. She wore power and confidence like a cloak. Peering at my dreaming self, her gold almond-shaped eyes drove through me like a lightning strike. Sudden recognition that she was the Commander jerked me awake. My heart pounded and my head thumped and I realized I was staring directly into Mogkan’s searing gaze. He smiled with satisfaction.
The Commander’s reason for hating magicians was as clear to me as glass. He was a she, but with the utter conviction that she should have been born a man. That cruel fate had chosen to burden him with a mutation that he had to overcome. And the Commander feared that a magician might pull this secret from his mind. Pure foolishness, I thought, shaking my head to dismiss the whole crazy notion. Just because I had dreamed about a woman didn’t mean that the Commander was one. It was absolute nonsense. Or was it?
Rubbing my eyes, I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed that I had fallen asleep. The Commander stared off into the distance, and Valek sat stiff and alert, scanning the room, seeking something or someone. General Tesso had the floor.
Valek pulled his gaze back to the Commander, and bumped his arm in alarm. “What’s going on?” he whispered urgently. “Where were you?”
“Just remembering a time long ago,” the Commander said in a wistful voice. “More enjoyable than listening to General Tesso’s excruciatingly detailed report on the corn harvest in MD-4.”
I studied the Commander’s features, trying to superimpose the woman from my dream. They matched, but that meant nothing. Dreams twisted reality and it was easy to envision the Commander killing a snow cat.
The rest of the meeting continued without incident, and I dozed on my stool from time to time, untroubled by strange dreams. When the Commander pounded his gavel, I was awake in an instant.
“Last item, gentlemen,” the Commander announced. “A Sitian delegation has requested a meeting.”
The room erupted with voices. Arguments sprang to life as if the Generals were picking up an old debate right where they had left off. They discussed trade treaties, and quarreled about attacking Sitia. Instead of trading for goods, why not take them? they argued. They wanted to expand their districts and gain more men and resources, ceasing all worries about Sitia attempting to attack Ixia.
The Commander sat in silence and let the flow of advice wash over him. The Generals settled enough to proclaim their beliefs about allowing the Sitians to come. The four northern Generals (Kitvivan, Chenzo, Franis and Dinno) didn’t want to meet with the delegation, while the four southern Generals (Tesso, Rasmussen, Hazal and Brazell) favored a summit with the Sitians.
The Commander shook his head. “I acknowledge your opinions about Sitia, but the southerners would rather trade with us than attack us. We have more men and metal. A fact they are well aware of. To attack Sitia we would expend many lives and large sums of money. And for what? Their luxury items aren’t worth the cost. I’m content with Ixia. We have cured the land of the King’s disease. Perhaps my successor will want more. You’ll have to wait until then.”
A murmur rippled through the Generals. Brazell nodded in agreement, with his thin lips anchored in a predator’s smile.
“I have already agreed to meet with the southern contingent,” the Commander continued. “They’re due to arrive in four days. You have until then to express your specific concerns to me before departing for your home districts. Meeting adjourned.” The bang from the Commander’s gavel echoed throughout the dead silent room.
The Commander rose and with his bodyguards and Valek close behind, he prepared to leave. Valek gestured for me to join them. I lurched to my feet. The full effect of the brandy I had consumed washed over me. Giddy, I followed the others from the room. An explosion of sound slipped through the door just before it closed behind us.
“That should stir things up a bit,” the Commander said with a wan smile.
“I would advise against vacationing in MD-8 this year,” Valek said sarcastically. “The way Dinno reacted to your announcement about the southern delegation I would expect him to pepper your beach house with sand spiders.” Valek shivered. “A horribly painful way to die.”
My skin crawled too, thinking of the lethal spiders the size of small dogs. Our procession continued in silence for a while as we headed back to the Commander’s suite. My gait was unsteady. The stone walls blurred past me, as if they were moving and I was the one standing still.
Outside the Commander’s suite, Valek said, “I’d watch out for Rasmussen too. He didn’t take the news of the change in your successor well.”
The Commander opened his door. I stole a quick glance inside his suite. The same plain utilitarian style that decorated his office and the rest of the castle was present. What had I expected? Maybe a splash of color, or something a bit more feminine? I gave my head a little shake to banish such absurd thoughts. The motion made my head spin, and I had to put a hand to the wall to keep myself from stumbling.
“I watch out for everyone, Valek. You know that,” the Commander said before shutting the door behind him.
Upon entering our suite, Valek stripped off his uniform jacket and threw it on the couch. He pointed to a chair and said, “Sit. We need to talk.”
I plopped into the chair and dangled a leg over the armrest, watching Valek pace the room in his sleeveless undershirt and formfitting black pants. Imagining my hands helping to ease the tension in the long ropy muscles of his arms almost started a giggling fit. Brandy flowed through my blood, quickening my pulse.
“Two things were very wrong tonight,” Valek said.
“Oh, come on. I just dozed for a minute,” I said in my defense.
Valek shot me a quizzical look. “No, no. You did fine. I meant about the meeting; the Generals.” He continued to pace. “First, Brazell seemed unusually happy about the change in successor and the Sitian delegation. He’s always wanted a trade treaty, but he typically exercises a more cautious approach. And second, there was a magician in the room.”
“What?” My breath locked. Had I been discovered?
“Magic. Very subtle, from a trained professional. I only felt it once, a brief touch, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source. But the magician had to be in the room, or I wouldn’t have felt it.”
“When?”
“During Tesso’s long-winded dissertation about corn.” Valek’s posture had relaxed a little, as if the act of talking out a problem helped him deal with it. “About the same time your snoring could be heard halfway across the room.”
“Ha,” I said rather loud. “You were so stiff at that meeting I thought rigor mortis had set in.”
Valek snorted with amusement. “I doubt you could have looked any better sitting in that uncomfortable dress uniform all night. I imagine Dilana sprayed on extra starch with malicious glee.”
Then he grew serious again. “Do you know Adviser Mogkan? He eyed you most of the evening.”
“I know of him. He was Reyad’s primary adviser. They also hunted together.”
“What’s he like?” Valek asked.
“Same kind of vermin as Reyad and Nix,” I said. The words poured off my lips. I slapped both hands over my mouth, but it was too late.
Valek studied me for a moment. Then he said, “There were a number of new advisers at the meeting. I guess I’ll have to check them out one by one. It seems we have a new southern spy with magic abilities.” He sighed. “It never ends.” He dropped onto the edge of the couch as weariness settled on him like a coating of dust.
“If it did, you’d be out of a job.” Before I could stop myself, I squeezed behind Valek and started to massage his shoulders. The alcohol had taken complete command of my movements, and the tiny sober section of my brain could do nothing but yell useless admonishments.
Chapter Twenty-Four
V alek stiffened under my touch. Was he expecting me to strangle him? I wondered. As my hands kneaded his muscles, he relaxed.
“What would you do,” I asked him, “if suddenly the world was perfect and you had no one to spy on?”
“I’d be bored,” Valek said with amusement.
“Come on, seriously. A change in profession.” I dug my thumbs into the muscle at the base of his neck. “A fire dancer?” A rush of warmth radiated as brandy pumped through my blood.
“No. An arms teacher?” Valek suggested.
“No. It’s a perfect world. No weapons allowed.” I moved my hands down his back. “How about a scholar? You’ve read all these books lying around, haven’t you? Or are they just to make it difficult for someone to sneak in?”
“Books serve me in so many ways. But I doubt your perfect society would need a scholar on murder.”
My hands paused for a second. “No. Definitely not.”
“A sculptor? I could carve extravagant statues. We could redecorate the castle and liven things up. How about you?” he asked as I pressed my fingertips into the small of his back. “What would you do?”
“Acrobatics.” The word flowed without conscious thought. I had thought I left acrobatics behind with my fire amulet, but it seemed my excursion through the trees had reawakened my desire.
“An acrobat! Well, that explains a lot.”
Aroused by my contact with Valek’s sculpted body, I slid my hands around to his stomach. Reyad be damned. The brandy had relaxed me past fear. I started to unfasten Valek’s pants.
He grabbed my wrists, stopping me. “Yelena, you’re drunk.” His voice was hoarse.
Valek released my hands and stood. I sat, watching him with surprise as he swooped down to lift me from the couch. Wordless, he carried me to my room and laid me on the bed.
“Get some sleep, Yelena,” Valek said softly as he left the room.
My world spun as I stared into the darkness. Placing a hand on the cold stone wall next to my bed helped to steady my thoughts. Now I knew. Valek had no interest in me other than my job as the food taster. I had allowed myself to get caught up in Dilana’s gossip and Maren’s jealousy. The ache of rejection throbbing in my soul was my own fault.
Why hadn’t I learned by now? People turned into monsters. At least the people in my experience. First Brazell, then Rand, although Reyad had stayed consistent. What about Valek? Would he transform into one or had he already? Like Star said, I shouldn’t be thinking of him at all, not as a companion, and not to fill the dead place in my heart.
As if I could. I laughed. A drunken sound, tattered and ragged, the music of my thoughts. Look around you, Yelena, I chided myself. The poisoned food taster who converses with ghosts. I should be thankful that I breathed, that I existed. I shouldn’t long for more than freedom in Sitia. Then I could fill the emptiness. Dismissing all sentimental, weak thoughts, I focused on the business of staying alive.
Escaping to Sitia would break no bonds with Valek. Once I obtained the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust I could set my plans into motion. Determined, I reviewed lock-picking techniques in my mind until I fell into a deep alcohol-induced sleep.
I woke an hour before dawn with a pounding head. My mouth felt like an abandoned spiderweb. I imagined dust blowing from my lips with each exhaled breath. Moving with extreme care, I inched out of bed. Wrapping my blanket around my shoulders, I went to get a drink. Valek liked cold water and always kept a pitcher outside on the balcony.
The crisp night air blew away the lingering fuzziness of sleep. The castle’s stone walls glowed, eerily reflecting the moonlight. I located the metal pitcher. A thin film of ice had formed on the top. Breaking it with a finger, I poured the water into my mouth, gulping.
When I tipped my head back for a second drink, I noticed a black spider-shaped object clinging to the castle wall above my head. With growing alarm, I realized the shape was descending toward me. It wasn’t a spider but a person.
I searched for a hiding spot, but stopped when I realized that the intruder had probably already seen me. Locking myself in the suite and waking Valek seemed a better plan. But before I could enter the pitch-black living room, I hesitated. Inside, the intruder’s dark clothes would be hard to see. A locked door no longer gave me a sense of security since my lock-picking lessons with Janco.
Cursing myself for leaving my switchblade inside, I moved to the far end of the balcony, clutching the water pitcher in my hand.
The wall climber jumped the remaining distance to the balcony floor. The effortless movement triggered recognition.
“Valek?” I whispered.
A bright flash of white teeth, then Valek removed a pair of dark glasses. The rest of his face was hidden behind a hood that covered his head and was tucked into a skintight body leotard.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Reconnaissance. The Generals tend to stay up late after the Commander leaves the brandy meeting. So I had to wait until everyone had gone to bed.” Valek went into the suite. He removed his hood. Lighting the lantern on his desk, he pulled a paper from his pocket.
“I hate a mystery. I would have let the identity of the Commander’s successor remain a secret, as I have for fifteen years, but tonight’s opportunity was too tempting. With eight drunken Generals sleeping it off, I could have danced on their beds without waking them. Not one among them has any imagination. I watched all the Generals put their envelopes from the Commander right into their briefcases.” Valek motioned for me to join him at the desk. “Here, help me decipher this.”
He handed me a stiff piece of paper. A jumble of words and numbers were scrawled on it. He had copied the eight different pieces of the encrypted message by stealing into each General’s room. I wondered why he was confiding in me. Too curious to question, I pulled up a chair to help him.
“How did you break the wax seal?” I asked.
“Rookie trick. All you need is a sharp knife and a tiny flame. Now read me the first set of letters.” He wrote it down then reordered the letters until he had created the word siege. Opening a book, he flipped through the pages. Symbols like the ones on my switchblade’s handle peppered the document. The page Valek stopped on was decorated with a large blue symbol that resembled a star in the middle of three circles.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The old battle symbol for siege. The dead King used these markings to communicate with his Captains during times of war. They were originally created hundreds of years ago by a great strategist. Read me the next set. They should be numbers.”
I told him the numbers. He began to count the lines of text.
It occurred to me that I could borrow this book and figure out Janco’s message on my switchblade. Eventually, my ass. Won’t Janco be surprised.
When Valek reached that number, he wrote a letter down on a clean page. After he had finished deciphering the message, Valek sat as still as a held breath. Unable to wait any longer I asked, “Who is it?”
“Guess,” he said.
I looked at him. I was tired and hungover.
“I’ll give you a hint. Who was the happiest about the change? Whose name keeps popping up during the most bizarre situations?”
Terror swept over my body like a cloak. If something happened to the Commander, Brazell would be in command. I would probably be his first order of business, and wouldn’t live long enough to see any changes he might implement in Ixia.
Valek understood the look on my face. He nodded. “Right. Brazell.”
For two days the Commander met with each General in turn. My brief and periodic interruptions to taste the Commander’s food created uncomfortable moments of silence. The tension around the castle was palpable as the Generals’ retinues snarled and fought with everyone.
On the third day, when I arrived to taste the Commander’s breakfast, I found him absorbed in conversation with Brazell and Adviser Mogkan. The Commander’s eyes were glazed, his voice a monotone.
“Get out of here!” Brazell barked.
Mogkan pushed me into the throne room. “Wait here until we summon you,” he ordered.
I hesitated outside the door, uncertain if I should heed this unusual request. If it had come from Valek or the Commander I wouldn’t have doubted, but being expected to follow Mogkan’s orders rankled. My worries grew as I imagined Brazell attempting an assassination. I was about to search for Valek, when he burst into the throne room, his expression hard as he hurried toward the Commander’s office.
“What are you doing out here?” Valek demanded. “Haven’t you tasted his breakfast yet?”
“I was ordered to wait. He’s with Brazell and Mogkan.”
Sudden fear crossed Valek’s face. He pushed past me into the office. I followed. Mogkan was standing behind the Commander with his fingertips pressing into the Commander’s temples. When Valek appeared, Mogkan stepped away. He said smoothly, “You can definitely feel, Sir, that this is an excellent way to ease a headache.”
Animation returned to the Commander’s face. “Thank you, Mogkan,” he said. Glaring at Valek’s intrusion, he demanded, “What’s so important?”
“Disturbing news, Sir.” Valek stared daggers at Brazell and Mogkan. “I would like to discuss it in private.”
The Commander rescheduled their meeting for later that day, then dismissed them.
“Yelena, taste the Commander’s breakfast now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Valek watched me taste the food. An intense expression lined his face, making me nervous. Did he think the food was tainted? I rechecked the cooling tea and lukewarm omelet, but detected no foreign substances. I placed the tray on the Commander’s desk.
“Yelena, if I have to eat cold food again, I’ll have you whipped. Understand?” The Commander’s voice lacked passion, but the threat was genuine.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied, knowing an excuse was useless.
“You’re dismissed.”
I fled from the office, barely noticing the bustling activity in the throne room. Walking past the entrance, I paused. “Hungry,” said a flat voice in my head. My stomach growled; I was ravenous. I headed toward the kitchen.
When I rounded a corner, Adviser Mogkan stood there, blocking my path. He linked his arm through mine and guided me to an isolated section of the castle. Going with him seemed natural. I wanted to pull away. I wanted to be afraid, terrified even, but I couldn’t produce the emotions. My hunger had dissipated. I felt content.
Mogkan steered me down a deserted corridor. A dead end, I thought, still unable to conjure a reaction. His silky gray eyes stared at me for a moment before he unhooked his arm from mine. His fingers traced the line of black diamonds down my uniform sleeve.
“My Yelena,” he said possessively.
Fear blazed up my arm and exploded in my chest the second physical contact with Mogkan was broken. My emotional ennui had dissolved, but I couldn’t move. The muscles in my body wouldn’t obey my mind’s frantic commands to fight.
A magician! Mogkan had power. He had used it during the brandy meeting, tipping Valek off. But further contemplation on this revelation was cut short when Mogkan stepped closer.
“Had I guessed you would cause such trouble I never would have brought you to Brazell’s orphanage.” He smiled at my confusion. “Didn’t Reyad tell you that I found you?”
“No.” My voice was husky.
“You were lost in the jungle, only six years old. Such a beautiful, bright child. Such a delight. I rescued you from the claws of a tree leopard because I knew you had potential. But you were too stubborn, too independent. The harder we tried, the more you resisted.” Mogkan cupped his hand under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Even now, when I’m locked into you, you’re still fighting me. I can command your body.” He raised his left arm, and my own left arm mirrored his movement. “But if I tried to control both your mind and body, you would eventually thwart me.” He shook his head in disbelief, as if the whole concept amazed him.
“Fortunately, subtle pressure is all that’s required.” He pulled his hand away, and then made a pinching gesture with his fingers and thumb.
My throat closed. I was unable to breathe. Powerless to defend myself, I sank to the ground. My mind’s screaming went unvoiced. Logic grabbed the panic and wrestled it to the ground. Mogkan was using magic. Maybe I could block it before I passed out. I tried reciting poisons in my mind.
“Such strength,” Mogkan said in admiration. “But it won’t save you this time.” He bent down and kissed me tenderly, almost fatherly, on the forehead.
Peace flowed through me. I stopped resisting. My vision blurred. I felt Mogkan take my hand, holding it in his own.
Chapter Twenty-Five
R eclining against the wall, I clung to Mogkan’s hand as the world faded around me. I felt an unwelcome jolt, then the tight blockage in my throat released. Gasping for breath, I came to my senses and realized I was lying prone on the floor. Next to me sat Valek atop Mogkan’s chest. Valek’s hands were wrapped around Mogkan’s neck, but his eyes were on me.
Mogkan smiled when Valek stood and yanked him to his feet. “I hope you’re aware of the penalty for being a magician in Ixia,” Valek said. “If not, I’d be delighted to enlighten you.”
Mogkan smoothed out his uniform and adjusted his long dark braid of hair. “Some would say your ability to resist magic makes you a magician, Valek.”
“The Commander thinks otherwise. You’re under arrest.”
“Then you’re in for a big surprise. I suggest you discuss these false accusations with the Commander before you do anything drastic,” Mogkan said.
“How about I kill you right now?” Valek stepped closer to him.
A hot, searing pain stabbed my abdomen. I yelped and rolled into a tight ball. The agony was relentless. Valek took another step. I screamed as fire blazed up my back and circled my head.
“Any closer, and she’ll be a corpse,” Mogkan said, a cunning sleekness in his voice.
Through eyes tearing with anguish, I saw Valek shift his weight to the balls of his feet, but he remained in place.
“Well, now. That’s interesting. The old Valek really wouldn’t have cared if I killed his food taster. Yelena, my child, I just realized how incredibly useful you are.”
The intense pain was unbearable. I would have gladly died to escape from it. Before I passed out, my last glimpse was of Mogkan’s back as he walked away unharmed.
I woke to blackness. Something heavy pressed against my forehead. Alarmed, I tried to sit up.
“It’s all right,” Valek said, pushing me down.
I touched my head and pulled off a damp cloth. Blinking in the light, I looked around at the familiar furniture of my own room. Valek stood next to me, a cup in his hand.
“Drink this.”
I took a sip and cringed at the medicinal flavor. Valek insisted I finish it. When the cup was empty, he placed it on the night table.
“Rest,” he ordered, then turned to leave.
“Valek,” I said, stopping him. “Why didn’t you kill Mogkan?”
He considered for a moment, tilting his head. “A tactical maneuver. Mogkan would have killed you before I could finish him. You’re the key to too many puzzles. I need you.” He strode to the door but paused at the threshold. His grip on the doorknob was hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “I’ve reported Mogkan to the Commander, but he was…” Valek’s hand twisted on the knob, and I heard the metal crack. “Unconcerned, so I’ll be guarding the Commander until Brazell and Mogkan leave. I’ve reassigned Ari and Janco as your personal bodyguards. Don’t leave this suite without them. And stop eating Criollo. I’ll taste the Commander’s Criollo. I want to see if anything happens to you.” Valek pulled the door shut, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts.
True to his word and much to the Commander’s annoyance, Valek didn’t leave the Commander’s side. Ari and Janco enjoyed a change in routine, but I made them work hard. Whenever I wasn’t tasting the Commander’s meals, I had Ari drill me with knife defense and Janco give me more lessons on picking locks.
The Generals’ departure was scheduled for the next day, which meant it was time to do some of my own reconnaissance. It was early evening and I knew Valek would still be with the Commander until late. I told Ari and Janco that I was going to bed early, and bade them good-night at the threshold to Valek’s suite. After waiting an hour, I slipped back into the hallway.
The corridors of the castle were not as deserted as I had hoped, but Valek’s office was located off the main throughway. I approached his door, scanning the hallway for activity. Seeing no one, I inserted my picks into the first of the three keyholes, but my nerves made popping the lock impossible. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried again.
I had two locks sprung when I heard voices approaching. Standing, I pulled the picks out of the keyhole and knocked on the door just as two men came into view.
“He’s with the Commander,” said the guard on the left.
“Thanks,” I replied and started to walk in the opposite direction with my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. I glanced behind me until they were gone, then raced back to Valek’s office. The third lock proved to be the most difficult. I was covered with sweat by the time I popped it. I hurried into the room, locking the door behind me.
My first task was to open the small wooden cabinet that held my antidote. Perhaps Valek had locked the recipe in there. I lit a dim lantern to peer inside. Glass bottles of various shapes and sizes gleamed in the light. Most of the bottles were marked Poison. A growing sense of urgency consumed me as I searched. All I uncovered was a large bottle containing the antidote. I poured only a few doses into the flask I had hidden in my pocket, knowing that Valek would notice if I took too much.
After relocking the cabinet, I began a systematic search of Valek’s files, starting with the desk drawers. Even though his office was strewn with books and maps, his personal dossiers were well organized. I found files on Margg and the Commander and was tempted to read them, but I stayed focused on finding any folder bearing my name or a reference to Butterfly’s Dust. Valek had written many interesting comments about my tasting abilities in my personnel file, but there was no mention of the poison or the antidote.
When I finished with the desk, I moved to the conference table. Books on poisons were interspersed with files and other espionage documents. I sorted through the piles. My time was running out. I had to be back in Valek’s suite before he escorted the Commander to his apartment.
I suppressed my disappointment as I finished with the table. There was still half of his office left to search.
I was halfway across the quiet room when I heard the distinct sound of a key being inserted into the lock. One click, then the key was withdrawn. I snuffed out the lantern as the second lock clicked open. Diving behind the conference table, I hoped the boxes piled underneath would hide me from view. Please, I prayed to the forces of fate, let it be Margg and not Valek. A third click made my heart squeeze.
The door opened and closed. A light tread of footsteps crossed the room. Someone sat at the desk. I didn’t risk peeking, but I knew it was Valek. Had the Commander retired early? I reviewed my meager options: be discovered or wait Valek out. I eased into a more comfortable position.
A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door.
“Come,” said Valek.
“Your, ah…package has arrived, sir,” said a male voice.
“Bring him in.” Valek scraped his chair on the stone floor.
I heard the rustle of chains and a shuffling step. “You’re dismissed,” Valek said. The door clicked shut. A familiar rancid smell of the dungeon reached my nose.
“Well, Tentil. Are you aware that you’re next in line for the noose?” Valek asked.
My heart went out to the doomed prisoner. I knew exactly how he felt.
“Yes, sir,” a voice whispered.
Pages crackled. “You’re here because you killed your three-year-old son with a plow, claiming it was an accident. Is that correct?” Valek asked.
“Yes, sir. My wife had just died. I was unable to afford a nanny. I didn’t know he had climbed under.” The man’s voice was pinched with pain.
“Tentil, there are no excuses in Ixia.”
