Don Bassingthwaite - Word of traitors

“Then what happened?” asked Dagii.

Chetiin made a face and his ears folded down. “I was careless. When I left Haruuc after our argument-after he ordered me out of Khaar Mbar’ost-I was angry. I forgot the first law of the shaarat’khesh: watch and listen. Someone put a crossbow bolt in my back. Poisoned.”

Breath hissed between Geth’s teeth. “Just like Haruuc. Did you see who did it?”

“No.” Chetiin shook his head. “The bolt was bad. The poison was worse. It worked fast, burning in me. It made me weak and blind. Strandpine sap, I think. A big dose, maybe as much as they used on Haruuc.”

“And you’re smaller than he was. How come you’re not dead?”

“An assassin who works with poisons for many years develops a resistance to them,” the goblin said. “As it was, I was as good as dead. That probably saved me. I think if I had been any more alive, my attacker would have been certain to finish the job.”

“Lucky,” Ekhaas said.

“It wasn’t my only piece of luck. I drifted in and out of consciousness after that while the poison ran its course. When I finally woke up, I realized that I’d been stuffed up onto a ledge in one of the chimneys of Khaar Mbar’ost. If not for the ban on fires during the period of mourning, smoke in the chimney would have suffocated me.” He spread his hands. “The bolt had been pulled out of me, maybe to make it easier to hide my body. That spared me further exposure to the poison. My daggers had been taken, of course. When I managed to climb down, I discovered the ledge I’d been hidden on was above the fireplace in my own chamber.”

“Your chamber was searched,” said Dagii. “I was there.”

“Whoever attacked me did a good job. The ledge was invisible from below. Smoke and heat would have preserved my body. What little smell there might be would have been whisked up the chimney. I might never have been found.”

He said it with a chilling bluntness, as if talking about his own murder was the most natural thing in the world. Geth held back a shudder. “And we would have kept on thinking you’d gone into hiding. Why didn’t you come to us?”

“I overheard that Haruuc was dead and that I had done the deed. I didn’t know who had attacked me, but it was clear that anyone who found me wasn’t going to let me live long enough to explain. I could barely move, much less defend myself. It was two days after Haruuc’s death. I bandaged my wound, disguised myself, got out of Khaar Mbar’ost, and made my way to a shaarat’khesh house. It was deserted-those of my clan had fled the city or moved to more secure shelter-but it was enough for me. I spent eight days recovering there until the end of the mourning period.” His expression darkened. “With the beginning of the games, I was able to move around Rhukaan Draal in disguise. I learned everything that had happened-and I started to watch for my chance to talk to you. You gave it to me tonight.” He spread his hands. “Sit ya toomiish-those are events as they happened to me. I didn’t kill Haruuc, but someone wants it to look like I did.”

“If you didn’t,” asked Geth, “who did? And why?”

“You believe me then?”

“I-” Geth hesitated. He wanted to believe the goblin. What Chetiin had told them made at least as much sense to him as the idea that Chetiin could have turned on Haruuc. And yet the time he had spent since Haruuc’s death cursing Chetiin’s name wouldn’t leave him so easily. Both versions of events were incredible.

Dagii spoke into the silence. “I believe you,” he said firmly. “You have too much muut, too much atcha to have acted against Haruuc on your own. I know that you would have come to us first.”

Geth glanced at Ekhaas. The duur’kala’s ears were cocked. Slowly, she nodded. “I think you’re telling the truth,” she said to Chetiin. She smiled. “Khaavolaar, I hated thinking of you as a traitor!”

Geth’s gut felt a little hollow, as if he was a traitor now. He forced a smile to his face, though. “I believe you, too. It’s good to have you back.”

Chetiin didn’t smile. His dark-stained face remained pensive. “I’m not back,” he said. “Too many people think I was the one who put Witness into Haruuc’s eye.” He shook his head. “I’ve thought about it ever since I escaped, but I don’t know the answer to your question, Geth. I don’t know who actually killed Haruuc.”

“A changeling in your shape?” suggested Dagii.

“A changeling can’t imitate a goblin,” said Chetiin. “We’re too small. A changeling child might be able to, but no child could have done what I am told I did.” The muscles of his jaw tightened. “I can only come up with one plausible explanation. It was another of the shaarat’khesh,”

“One of your own clan?” Geth asked. “They would do that?”

“Not all of them. Shaarat’khesh can refuse a request, but there are those who would have considered it a challenge.”

“And they would have tried to kill you to do it?”

“I have my rivals,” Chetiin said grimly, “though so far as I knew, none of them were in Rhukaan Draal at the time. But yes, they would have.”

Dagii looked doubtful. “Why use your identity to kill Haruuc? The honor of his death would fall on you.”

Chetiin gave him a thin smile. “You fight open battles, Dagii. Among the Silent Clans, the assassin would be twice-honored: once for killing Haruuc, once for concealing his true identity.” The smile faded from his face. “But I’ve been in touch with shaarat’khesh I trust who remain in hiding in Rhukaan Draal. None of our clan has claimed Haruuc’s death. Maybe no one will-because of the trouble that it brought down on us, the clan is angry. I had to talk fast to get even old friends to believe my story. In any case, if Haruuc truly was killed by one of the shaarat’khesh, the blame doesn’t fall on the assassin, but on the one who hired him.”

“Then we need to think about why Haruuc was killed,” said Ekhaas. “What did anyone have to gain from Haruuc’s death?”

“They could stop him from becoming a tyrant,” Geth said. “They could prevent a war-they would have had their plans in place before he tried to turn the warlords away from Breland toward Valenar.”

Dagii shook his head. “Those are the reasons we’ve been chasing since Haruuc’s death. Except that, as Tenquis pointed out, most Darguuls liked the way Haruuc was acting under the rod’s influence. They would still welcome a war with Valenar. Or with anyone else, never mind the consequences.” His ears flicked. “Could a non-Darguul have hired one of the shaarat’khesh?”

“It would be difficult,” said Chetiin, “but not impossible. If one of my clan wanted the honor badly enough-”

“We’ve forgotten something.”

They all turned to look at Ekhaas. Her ears were flat against her skull and her eyes were narrow. She pointed at Geth. “You said that after he killed Haruuc, the assassin looked at you and said ‘We swore we would do what we had to.’ That’s what made us all think Chetiin believed Haruuc had discovered the power of the rod.”

“And we were wrong,” Geth said, but Chetiin’s eyes opened wide and he drew a long hard breath. Dagii’s lips peeled back from his teeth. A moment later, Geth understood what Ekhaas had seen as well.

Only the six of them who had recovered the rod and understood its terrible secret knew about the oath they had made. The idea left him cold. He looked out across the burned ruins to the eastern sky. Khaar Mbar’ost stood as a silhouette between them and the coming dawn. “One of us hired the assassin? Who would have done that? Who could have done that?”

Dagii spoke through clenched teeth. “Midian.”

Geth whirled to question this blunt accusation, but Ekhaas was already talking, building up evidence. “He was the only one of us who wasn’t there. You, Geth, and you, Dagii were with Haruuc on the dais. Ashi was just off of the dais in the side room. I was with Senen Dhakaan on the floor of the throne room. Chetiin was lying wounded. But Midian was conveniently out of Rhukaan Draal. He could have hired the assassin, told him what to say to make his disguise as Chetiin even more convincing, and left for the ruins at Bloodrun.” She began to pace back and forth among the ashes as she thought. “You knew that Haruuc hadn’t really discovered the power of the rod, Geth. You told me and you told Ashi. If one of us had hired the assassin, we had time to stop the assassination.”