DAVID COE - Seeds of Betrayal

“But?”

Brail turned toward the voice. Ansis was eyeing him closely, looking young still, but not frightened as Brail might have expected.

“But I also agree with Tebeo that it all seems a bit too easy.”

“What of the garroting?” Bertin asked. “What of the scrap of leather in Chago’s hand?”

“That scrap of leather is part of what bothers me. Had Chago really pulled it off the murderer’s belt or baldric, wouldn’t the other man have noticed? Wouldn’t he have retrieved it?”

Bertin threw up his hands. “It was a Solkaran garroting on behalf of the king! Why would he bother with a useless piece of leather? Everyone was going to know who killed the man anyway.”

“What if it was the Qirsi?” Ansis asked in an even voice.

“It wasn’t the Qirsi.”

“What if it was?” the young duke said again, his voice rising as he glared at Bertin. After a moment he faced Brail again. “What could we do about it?”

“Do about it?”

“Well surely we’d have to do something. Warn the king and the other dukes. Interrogate our ministers and Chago’s as well.”

“Warn the king of what?” Tebeo asked. “I promise you, he’s heard the same whisperings as we. We might as well warn him that the snows are coming. And as for the ministers, what would you ask them in these interrogations? Would you ask them what they’ve heard about this so-called conspiracy, or would you come right out and demand to know if they’re traitors?”

Ansis gazed toward the fire. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “But even if we just suspect that the Qirsi might have been involved in Chago’s murder, we ought to do something.”

Tebeo let out a sigh. “I probably shouldn’t have said what I did, Ansis. The Qirsi have been on my mind a good bit lately, but I have no reason to think that they killed Chago. Had anyone other than his minister found the body, I never even would have considered it. Bertin’s right: it was most likely one of Carden’s men. And if it wasn’t there are a hundred other possibilities I’d consider before I blamed the white-hairs.”

“Like what?”

The duke shrugged. “Thieves. The wood’s crawling with them.”

“Not this time of year,” Ansis said. “And whoever did this left Chago’s jeweled dagger and sword untouched. I saw Silbron wearing both of them at the funeral.”

“Maybe another duke, then,” Brail said, “someone who wanted Chago dead for some reason, but wanted the king blamed for it.”

Bertin shook his head. “Only the duke of a major house would have much to gain from such a act. Rowan of Mertesse is as loyal to the Solkarans as his father, and even if he wasn’t, he’s not clever enough to try this.” He looked first at Brail, then at Tebeo, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That leaves the two of you, and I’ve seen no evidence suggesting that you’re clever enough, either.”

All of them laughed, though Ansis quickly grew serious again.

“The truth is,” he said, “there are no other explanations, are there? Either Carden had this done, or the Qirsi. Those are the only possibilities.”

Tebeo said nothing. Brail kept his silence as well, drinking what was left of his wine and watching the others.

“The king did this, boy,” Bertin said quietly. “I don’t like it any more than you do. But that’s just the nature of the man. He doesn’t like rebels and he liked Chago least of all. The poor old fool just pushed him too far this time.”

Ansis turned to Dantrielle. “Tebeo?”

“Carden hated him enough to do this, and he wouldn’t hesitate to have any of us killed if he thought we were threatening his sovereignty.” He started to say more, then stopped himself. “He certainly didn’t look aggrieved at the funeral,” he went on a few moments later.

Bertin sneered. “Of course he didn’t. The bastard got just what he wanted.”

Ansis sat back in his chair and drank some wine. “He did look awfully pleased. I guess I’m not certain which bothers me more, the idea that our king could do this, or the possibility that Chago was the victim of some white-hair conspiracy.”

Brail had been thinking much the same thing and he almost said so. But the matter seemed to have run its course, and he saw no sense in rekindling the discussion, at least not just then.

Bells rang in the city, and Ansis sat forward again.

“Is that the gate close, or is it midnight already?”

“That’s only the gates,” Brail said.

The young man grinned. “Good.” He stood and stretched his legs. “Still, I’ve a long ride awaiting me in the morning. I should sleep.”

Brail rose as well. “Of course, Ansis. One of the guards will see you back to your chamber.” He stepped forward and kissed the duke lightly on each cheek. “I’m glad you came. I hope next time it’s under kinder circumstances, but I’m glad just the same.”

“As am I,” Ansis said. “You’ll thank Pazice for me?”

“You can thank her yourself in the morning. We’ll accompany you to the city gates.”

“I’d like that.”

“Wait a moment, boy,” Bertin called, as Ansis stepped to the door. “I’ll walk with you. I’ve got a journey ahead of me as well.” He nodded to Brail. “Always a pleasure, Orvinti. Good food, good wine, and I always enjoy seeing the hills and lake, even this late in the year.”

“You’re welcome any time, Bertin. You know that.”

Noltierre give a quick smile. “ ‘Til the morning then.”

Brail closed the door and looked at Tebeo.

“Are you going as well?”

Tebeo shook his head. “I’ve a shorter ride than they do.”

Brail nodded, knowing that wasn’t the real reason his friend chose to stay. Dantrielle may have been closer than Kett or Noltierre, but it was still more than thirty leagues from Orvinti. It would be several days before the duke reached his own realm. Brail didn’t say this, of course. He merely had the servants bring another flask of wine before dismissing them for the night.

Even after they were alone, the two dukes merely sat for some time, sipping their wine and watching the fire, which had burned low. Wind lashed the shutters again and Brail knelt by the hearth to place another log on the glowing embers.

“Our young friend may have a point,” Tebeo said as the duke lowered himself back into his chair. “It may be that one of us needs to speak with the king.”

Brail grinned. “One of us?” It would have to be him, and they both knew it. In the eyes of the king, Tebeo had been too closely allied with Chago. By siding first with one and then the other, Brail had managed to keep House Orvinti from becoming entangled in the dispute between Solkara and Bistari.

“All right,” Tebeo said, smiling as well. “You should speak with him.”

“To what end? You don’t expect me to ask him if he had Chago killed.”

Tebeo shrugged, the smile lingering on his round face. “Why not? As Bertin said, the murderer did everything but write ‘The king did this’ on Chago’s neck. If it was Carden’s work, he meant for us to know it.”

“And if it wasn’t Carden’s work?”

Dantrielle’s smile vanished. “Then we have a problem.”

“The Qirsi.”

“This is not just idle talk, Brail. The conspiracy is real. I’m certain of it.”

“What have you heard?” Brail asked, not really wanting to know.

“Rumors mostly. Speculation. But I’ve heard similar tales from so many quarters that I can’t dismiss them anymore. In the past few years, Eandi nobles have been murdered in nearly every kingdom in the Forelands.”

Brail forced a grin. “That’s hardly unheard of, Tebeo. As Bertin said, the Eibitharians don’t need any help butchering themselves. Unfortunately, that goes for the rest of us as well. Court assassinations are as old as the throne itself.”