DAVID COE - Seeds of Betrayal

The central table in the hall had been set for six places. Two flasks of wine sat on the table, along with bowls of spiced stew, plates of fowl, mutton, and steamed silverweed root, and a basket of freshly baked breads. A fire burned high in the hearth and torches lined the walls, brightening the hall despite the failing light of late day. The meal at least did not reveal any foreknowledge of Brail’s arrival. A king and queen ate thus every day, with enough extra for ministers or the prelate. An Orvinti banner hung on the wall over the hearth, but it was uneven, as if placed there in haste.

“Please forgive the meager table we’ve set for you,” Chofya said. “If we’d had more time…”

Brail shook his head and smiled. “Not at all, Your Highness. It’s a finer meal than I would find anywhere else in the land. Your generosity is exceeded only by your beauty.”

Carden laughed, though there was a brittleness to it. “Spoken like an Orvinti. I remember your father having Bohdan’s tongue as well. My father always said that he could charm a Wethy trader into giving away gold.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Brail said with a grin. “But it is said to be a family gift.”

Fetnalla cleared her throat. “Speaking of gifts, my lord.”

The duke nodded. “Of course. I’d almost forgotten.” He pulled a small pouch from his belt and removed two objects wrapped in cloth. One was a glasslike crystal, about the size of a sourfruit, worn smooth so that it was almost a perfect orb. Such stones were found in Lake Orvinti and were called Tears of Shanae, for the woman who saved the Orvinti clan from northern raiders back before the Forelands were divided into the seven kingdoms. He handed the stone to Chofya.

“For you, Your Highness, from the people of Orvinti.”

She smiled, taking the stone in her slender hand. “Thank you, Brail. My father gave me one of these years ago when I was just a girl. I’ll put this one with it, and think always of you and your lovely home.”

Brail inclined his head. “Again, Your Highness, you honor me.” He pulled the cloth from the second object, revealing a small glittering dagger, with a silver handle and a blade carved from the same clear stone. “And for you, my liege, also from my people.”

The king took the dagger and held it up to the torchlight, examining the carvings on the handle and the honed edges of the crystal blade.

“I’ve never seen a finer weapon carved from stone,” Carden said. “This was made in Orvinti?”

“Yes, my liege.”

The king nodded. “I’m impressed.” He stared at the blade for another moment before laying it on the table. “Thank you, Brail. It will find a place of honor in my collection.”

“You honor my people, my liege.”

One of the servants poured out five goblets of wine and with the king’s first sip, the meal began. For some time they said little, until Brail began to feel the burden of their silence. It almost seemed that Carden was waiting for him to begin a conversation, or perhaps to explain his sudden arrival in Solkara. The duke complimented both the king and his queen on the fine food they were eating, but Chofya only smiled, and Carden hardly did more than grunt in agreement.

When at last the servants removed what remained of the stew and roots, replacing them with a large platter of dried fruits and cheeses, and a flask of honey wine, Carden looked up from his meal and fixed his gaze on the duke.

“So why are you here, Orvinti?”

Brail cleared his throat, discomfited by the abruptness of the king’s question. He glanced for an instant at Fetnalla, but given how little he had told her, he knew that he would find no support there.

“I’ll be happy to tell you, my liege. But it might be better to wait until we can speak in private.”

The king eyed him briefly, his mouth twisting sourly.

“Leave us,” he said, turning to Chofya.

“But the fruit and cheese have only just arrived.”

“Take Kalyi and the ministers and go to my private hall. You can finish your meal there.”

The queen looked as if she wanted to argue the point further, but instead she said, “Yes, my lord,” dropping her gaze. Recovering quickly she flashed a thin smile at Fetnalla and the king’s Qirsi. “Won’t you join my daughter and me in the king’s hall?” she asked. “It’s not quite as spacious but the food and wine will taste just as good.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Fetnalla said, rising with the queen.

Pronjed cast a look at Carden, who nodded once. The Qirsi stood and followed Fetnalla, the queen, and the young girl out of the hall. A pair of servants approached the table and began to gather the empty plates, but the king waved a hand disdainfully.

“Leave them,” he commanded. “Leave us.”

The servants hurried from the hall.

“Now,” Carden said, facing Brail once more, torchlight reflected in his dark eyes. “Answer me. Why have you come?”

The duke took a breath. He would have given all the gold in Orvinti’s treasury to be back in his castle just then, enjoying a quiet meal with Pazice.

“I wish to speak with you about Chago,” he said, relieved to hear that his voice remained steady.

“Chago,” the king repeated. A smile stretched across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “What about him?”

“I… I wish to know if you had him killed.”

For a moment Brail thought that the king would rage at him for even raising the matter. But Carden merely gazed at him for several moments, before picking up the crystal dagger and toying with it, the same half smile on his lips.

“You’ve always struck me as a cautious man, Brail, not at all the type to take chances. Coming here unannounced and uninvited, asking me such a question-this all seems much more like something one of your friends would do. Bertin, perhaps. Or maybe Tebeo. Did one of them put you up to this?”

“No, my liege.”

“You’re certain. They didn’t suggest that you come to me, knowing that if one of them asked me the same question, I’d have him executed as a traitor? Think hard about this, Brail. Because I really am curious. Isn’t it possible that they asked you to speak with me, perhaps while all of you were together in Orvinti a few days ago?”

Brail licked his lips, which were suddenly dry as sand. A part of him wondered how the king knew that the others had been with him in his castle, but he didn’t dare ask. It mattered little at this point. The king had implied that his question was tantamount to treason. He’d be fortunate to ride out of Solkara alive. Still, having come this far, he wasn’t about to betray Tebeo, even to save his own life.

“No, my liege. I did speak with the others about Chago’s death. We had just come from his funeral, and were-” He stopped himself, uncertain as to how to finish the thought. He had taken great pains to keep himself apart from Solkara’s feud with Bistari. He risked offending the king if he admitted that he and the others were grieving for a lost friend, particularly if Carden had ordered the assassination.

“It’s all right, Brail. You and your friends were mourning his loss. I expected as much.”

The duke exhaled. “Thank you, my liege. Whatever Chago’s faults, we had all known him a long time.”

“And you think I had him killed,” the king went on, testing the edge of the dagger with his thumb. “Why?”

Brail faltered. “The garroting, my liege. And the Solkaran crest found in his hand.”

The king looked at Brail as if the duke were a fool. “I mean why would I have him killed?”

“Your houses have been rivals for centuries, my liege. And you and Chago had more than your share of disagreements, most recently about the wharfages and lightering fees.”