Guy Kay - Tigana

Who felt himself going red. His brain raced frantically back over the events of the day before. He glared at Rovigo. "You didn't find me in The Bird by accident. Alessan sent you. You had him follow me, didn't you?" he accused, turning to the Prince.

The two men exchanged another glance before Alessan replied.

"I did," he admitted. "I had a certain suspicion that there would be funeral rites for Sandre d'Astibar coming up and that we might be asked to audition. I couldn't afford to lose track of you, Devin."

"I'm afraid I was behind you most of the way down the Street of the Temples yesterday," Rovigo added. He had the grace to look embarrassed, Devin noted.

He was still furious though, and very confused. "You lied about The Bird then, all that talk about going there whenever you came back from a journey."

"No, that part was true," Rovigo said. "Everything I said was true, Devin. Once you were forced down to the waterfront you happened to end up in a place I know very well."

"And Catriana?" Devin pursued angrily. "What about her? How did she…”

"I paid a boy to run a message back to your inn when I saw that old Goro was letting you stay inside The Bird. Devin, don't be angry. There was a purpose to all of this."

"There was," Alessan echoed. "You should understand some of it by now. The whole reason Catriana and I were in Astibar with Menico's troupe was because of what I expected to see happen with Sandre's death."

"Wait a minute!" Devin exclaimed. "Expected? How did you know he was going to die?"

"Rovigo told me," Alessan said simply. He let a small silence register. "He has been my contact in Astibar for nine years now. I formed the same impression of him back then that you did yesterday, and about as quickly."

Devin, his mind reeling, looked over at the merchant, the casual friend he'd made the day before. Who turned out to be not so casual at all. Rovigo put down his glass.

"I feel the same way about Tyrants that you do," he said quietly. "Alberico here or Brandin of Ygrath ruling in Chiara and Corte and Asoli, and in that province Alessan comes from whose name I cannot hear or remember, hard as I might try."

Devin swallowed. "And Duke Sandre?" he asked. "How did you know…?"

"I spied on them," Rovigo said calmly. "It wasn't hard. I used to monitor Tomasso's comings and goings. They were wholly focused on Alberico, I was their neighbor here in the distrada, it was easy enough to slip onto their land. I learned of Tomasso's deception years ago, and, though I won't say it is a thing I am proud of, last year I was outside their windows at the estate and at the lodge on many different nights while they shaped the details of Sandre's death."

Devin looked quickly over at Alessan. He opened his mouth to say something, then, without speaking, he closed it.

Alessan nodded. "Thank you," he said. He turned to Rovigo. "There are one or two things here, as there have been before, that you are better off not knowing, for your own safety and your family's. I think you know by now it isn't a matter of trust, or any such thing."

"After nine years I think I do know that," Rovigo murmured. "What should I know about what happened tonight?"

"Alberico arrived just after I joined Tomasso and the vigil-keepers in the lodge. Baerd and Catriana warned us and I had time to hide, with Devin, who had made his way to the cabin on his own."

"On his own? How?" Rovigo asked sharply.

Devin lifted his head. "I have my own resources," he said with dignity. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alessan grin, and he suddenly felt ridiculous. Sheepishly he added, "I overhead the Sandreni talking upstairs between the two sessions of the mourning rites."

Rovigo looked as if he had another question or three, but, with a glance at Alessan, he held them in. Devin was grateful.

Alessan said, "When we went back to the cabin afterwards we found the vigil-keepers dead. Tomasso was taken. Baerd has remained behind to take care of a number of things by the cabin tonight. He will burn it later."

"We passed the Barbadians as we left the city," Rovigo said quietly, absorbing this. "I saw Tomasso bar Sandre with them. I feared for you, Alessan."

"With some cause," Alessan said drily. "There was an informer there. The boy, Herado, Gianno's son was in the service of Alberico."

Rovigo's face registered shock. "Family? Morian damn him to darkness for that!" he rasped harshly. "How could he do such a thing?"

Alessan gave his small characteristic shrug. "A great deal has broken down since the Tyrants came, would you not say?"

There was a silence as Rovigo fought to master his shock and rage. Devin coughed nervously and broke it: "Your own family," he asked. "Do they…”

"They know nothing of this," the merchant said, regaining his calm. "Neither Alix nor any of the girls had ever seen Alessan or Catriana before tonight. I met Alessan and Baerd in Tregea town nine years ago and we discovered in the course of a long night that we had certain dreams and certain enemies in common. The told me something of what their purposes were, and I told them I was willing to assist in those pursuits as best I could without unduly endangering my wife or daughters. I have tried to do that. I will continue to try. It is my hope to live long enough to be able to hear the oath Alessan offers when he drinks blue wine."

He spoke the last words quietly but with obvious passion. Devin looked at the Prince, remembering the inaudible words he had murmured under his breath before he drank.

Alessan gazed steadily at Rovigo. "There is one other thing you should know: Devin is one of us in more than the obvious way. I learned that by accident yesterday afternoon. He too was born in my own province before it fell. Which is why he is here."

Rovigo said nothing.

"What is the oath?" Devin asked. And then, more diffidently, "Is it something that I should know?"

"Not as anything that matters in the scheme of things. I only spoke a prayer of my own." Alessan's voice was careful and very clear. "I always do. I said: Tigana, let my memory of you be like a blade in my soul."

Devin closed his eyes. The words and the voice. No one spoke. Devin opened his eyes and looked at Rovigo.

Whose brow was knotted in fierce, angry consternation.

"My friend, Devin should understand this," Alessan said to him gently. "It is a part of the legacy he has taken on. What did you hear me say?"

Rovigo gestured with helpless frustration. "The same thing I heard the first time this happened. That night nine years ago, when we switched to blue wine. I heard you ask that the memory of something be a blade in you. In your soul. But I didn't hear… I've lost the beginning again. The something."

"Tigana," Alessan said again. Tenderly, clear as chiming crystal.

But Devin saw Rovigo's expression grow even more baffled and dismayed. The merchant reached for his glass and drained it. "Will you… one more time?"

"Tigana," Devin said before Alessan could speak. To make this legacy, this grief at the heart of things, more truly his own, as properly it was his own. For the land was his or it had been, and its name was part of his own, and they were both lost. Taken away.

"Let my memory of you be like a blade in my soul," he said, his voice faltering at the end though he tried hard to keep it as steady as Alessan's had been.

Wondering, disoriented, visibly distressed, Rovigo shook his head.

"And Brandin's magic is behind this?" he asked.

"It is," Alessan said flatly.

After a moment Rovigo sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I am sorry," he said softly. "Forgive me, both of you. I should not have asked. I have opened a wound."

"I was the one who asked," Devin said quickly.