Lynn Flewelling - Traitor's Moon

Seregil examined it more closely, and smiled to himself when he found a few telltale darker threads among the red.

Alec was less pleased when Seregil showed it to him that evening. "What does Ulan want with you?" he wondered suspiciously.

"I don't know, but I'm betting it's in Klia's best interests if I find out."

"I don't like this 'alone' business."

Seregil chuckled. "I cleared the man's name. He's not going to murder me now. And not after putting this in my hands."

"Are you going to tell Klia?"

"You can tell her after I've gone. Tell everyone."

It was a still night. The full moon's reflection lay flat as pearl inlaid in jet on the face of the Vhadasoori pool.

Seregil entered the stone circle and walked slowly toward the Cup. He thought for a moment that he was the first to arrive; it gave one power to make another wait for you. Then he saw the moon's reflection bob and wink out of sight for an instant as a dark figure glided across the water's surface. Old fears stirred to life, but this was no necromancer's demon.

Ulan slid gracefully to shore and stepped up to meet him. His dark robes blended with the surrounding darkness, while his long, pale face and silver hair caught the moonlight like a floating temple mask.

Seregil distrusted this man, but he had to admire his style. "I had a feeling we might speak again, Khirnari."

"As did I, Seregil of Rhiminee," Ulan replied, linking arms with him. "Come, walk with me."

They strolled slowly along the water's edge as if they were companions. It wasn't hard for Seregil to imagine Torsin in his place. Had the old envoy been able to sense the power that rolled off this man like heat off a forge? Uncomfortable with such proximity, he freed his arm and halted. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's late and I know you didn't ask me here for the pleasure of my company."

"I might have," Ulan countered. "You are a most interesting young man. I'm sure you have many fascinating stories to tell."

"Only with a harp in hand and gold before me. What do you want?"

Ulan laughed. "Truly, you have taken on Tirfaie ways. That's all right, though. I like the Tir and their impatience. It's most

invigorating. I shall adopt the fashion and be direct. Your people still wish to see Gedre open, do they not?"

Ah, here it was at last. "Yes, and my guess is that you're finding Korathan a less subtle negotiator than his sister."

"I expected as much as soon as I heard he was on his way to Gedre with ships of war," the khirnari remarked blandly, gazing up at the moon.

Seregil refused to rise to such obvious bait. Either Ulan knew of Korathan's original orders or he was bluffing for information. With such an opponent, it was best to offer nothing in return.

Ulan tilted his head toward Seregil again, seeming not to have noticed his reticence. "You are clever, and wise beyond your years. Wise enough to know that I have the power and the will to fight against the Skalan's treaty until the Plenimaran fleet rides at anchor in Rhiminee harbor and your beautiful city is in flames. I've been watching this prince of yours. I don't think he has the wit to grasp this, but you do, and you have his ear."

"I can't tell him to give up. Gedre is essential."

"I have no doubt of that. That is why I am willing to abide by the agreement Torsin and I discussed before his unfortunate demise. Rhaish may be dead, and teth'sag satisfied, but I assure you, there are few among the Iia'sidra now who will spare Akhendi much pity. Her new khirnari, Sulat i Eral, is green wood yet, with little backing among the powerful. Your own clan is under a bit of a cloud as well, though I'm certain Adzriel a Illia will do her best. Yet there are so many who use the actions of her onetime brother as a two-edged sword. Is not yours a cautionary tale for those who wish no contact with the Tir? Will not Lhaar a Iriel point her tattooed nose in your direction and cry, 'See what comes of mixing with outlanders? Then, of course, there is the matter of the new queen's honor. That is of great concern to us all."

"I've been wondering, Khirnari—what did you pay the Plenimarans for that information?»

Ulan raised an eyebrow. "That information came to me as payment. The Plenimarans are most anxious for the Strait of Bal to remain open to their ships and to their traders. The Skalans are not the only ones in need of supplies to wage this foolish war of yours."

Seregil's heart sank, though this came as no real surprise. "Are you telling me that you've supported them all along? That the Skalans have no hope?"

"No, my friend, I'm offering you a compromise and my support. Argue for a limited opening of Gedre—say, the duration of your

war? I tell you as one grateful for what you did to clear my name that this is the best you can hope for. Or has your unfortunate alliance with the Akhendi blinded you to your original purpose? Klia did not come to challenge the Edict but to secure aid."

"Can we even hope for that?" Seregil asked.

"You know what to do, my clever friend. You're the master harpist who knows what strings to pluck. If you agree to my tune, you will have my support."

"Are there verses to your tune? Certain strings you want plucked?"

Ulan's ghostly face loomed closer, the eyes lost in shadow. "There is only one thing I want: Viresse remains an open port. Respect that, and whatever else you need I shall endeavor to provide."

"I don't suppose you can do anything about Plenimaran warships blocking the Strait of Bal?" Seregil asked with a wry grin. The khirnari's smile drove his own from his lips. "You can, can't you?"

"There's a great deal the Viresse are capable of, if we choose. Skalan trade has never been adverse to us, and they tend to be more trustworthy. What do you say?"

"I can't speak for Klia or Korathan," Seregil hedged.

"No, but you can speak with them."

"And what should I say to the people of Akhendi and Gedre? That their days of prosperity are numbered?"

"I have already spoken with Riagil and Sulat. They agree that half an apple is better than no apple at all. After all, even in Aurenen, things change with time and death. Who knows what may come of this little crack in the Edict, eh? Slow change is best for our people. It always has been."

"And if things stay the same long enough for you to keep your power?"

"Then I shall die a contented man."

Seregil smiled. "I'm sure there are a great many people who wish for that, Khirnari. I'll speak with the Skalans. There's one last thing I'd like to know, though. Was it you who told the Plenimarans where to ambush us on the voyage over?"

Ulan clucked his tongue. "Now you disappoint me. What use would a princess martyred by Plenimar be to me? Her death would only have united my opposition and created the most inconvenient sympathy for Skala's cause. Besides, I'd have missed out on the delights of the game we've all shared here. That would've been a great loss, don't you think?"

"A game," Seregil murmured. "Or a complicated dance."

"If you like. That's what existence is all about for people like us, Seregil. What would we do if life were ever simple and easy?"

"I wouldn't know," Seregil replied, thinking again of Ilar and the complexities of that long-ago summer. "I was never given the chance to find out."

"You're wondering if I was involved with the Chyptaulos traitors," Ulan said, and Seregil would not have put it past the man to be able to read thoughts and to have the audacity to do it.

"Yes," he replied softly, wondering what he would do if Ulan confessed.

The khirnari turned to look out over the pool. "That game needed no assistance from me, I assure you."

"But you knew about it, didn't you? You could have prevented it."