Covenants (58 page)

"Because His Majesty has no direct heir and Lord Teram ibn Flavan e Dru only has forty lines to the throne, Your Grace," Suiden said as he reached us, "as opposed to Rabbit's sixty-four—and Rabbit has proved surprisingly impervious to attempts on his life."

Wyln once more turned his head to stare at me.

"Flavan e Dru! The House of Dru was involved also?" the Fyrst asked, frowning.

"Dru provided the funds for arms, horses, and mercenaries, Your Grace," Suiden said. "Some, as he was Lord Treasurer, through embezzlement, but the majority through smuggling.”

The frown disappeared as the Fyrst's face went blank. "Dru was involved in the running?”

Everyone from Iversterre stared back at the Fyrst. "Chancellor Berle didn't tell you when you met with her, Your Grace?" Suiden asked, his voice careful.

"No," the Fyrst replied. "She just said that the 'ring' had been smashed and those responsible caught." He looked at the haunts. "Dru did this?"

"Among other things," Captain Javes said.

"Such as?" Wyln asked, his voice soft, now also looking at the haunts.

"He used his cousin in the assassination attempts on Lord Rabbit," Javes said.

"The same cousin also killed the White Stag, honored Fyrst, Enchanter," Laurel added, indicating Basel.

"And didn't you say, Your Highness, that this Slevoic also is a sorcerer?" Allwyn asked, somewhat recovered.

"Yes," Suiden said. "He came into his power during the rebellion while wearing a hauberk made of dragon skin and carrying a staff made of a murdered tree sprite.”

"Slevoic ibn Dru," the Fyrst said, his eyes all of a sudden narrowing.

Again, everyone from Iversterre stared at the Fyrst. "You know him, Your Grace?" Suiden asked, his voice once more careful.

"He visited here a few years ago, in the company of the Turalian ambassador to the human kingdom,"

Wyln said.

"Slevoic here?" Javes asked, sitting upright, his head turning from the Fyrst to Wyln.

"Sro Kenalt," Suiden said at the same time. "A cousin of mine," he added at the Fyrst's look. The captain's clan markings were dark scars against the sudden grayness of his face. He took a breath, hesitated, then took another breath. "I should tell you, Your Grace, that it appears that Tural was in league with Gherat." He took another breath. "Goods and slaves—”

"Slaves!" Wyln stood up, his black eyes full of fire, while the Fyrst leaned forward in his chair, his own eyes still narrowed.

"—were smuggled out of Iversterre while the Turalian navy played cat and mouse with ours.”

"True, honored Fyrst," Laurel said. "The djinn storm was most likely sent by a Turalian wizard to stop us from reaching here.”

I had sat silent as first Doyen Allwyn and then Captain Suiden admitted to the misdeeds of elders and family, mulling over what had been told—and not told—to the Fyrst, and what would happen if certain things became known just as I stood before the High Council. I now looked over at the Fyrst—and found his narrowed eyes on me.

"Yes, Two Trees'son?”

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I took a deep breath, and tried again. "Did the chancellor tell you, Your Grace, that a near kinsman of the vice admiral's and mine was also involved in the smuggling?"

"No, she did not," the Fyrst said.

I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat, fighting the desire to look away from the Fyrst's gaze. "My da's eldest brother, Your Grace, Lord Maceal of Chause."

"Was he part of this rebellion also?" the Fyrst asked.

"No, Your Grace," Uncle Havram said before I could respond, his mouth like a wound. "Nothing so noble. My brother just likes his silver.”

I took another deep breath. "I am also close kin to Teram ibn Flavan. He's the son of my mother's brother.” In the abrupt quiet of the room I could hear the wind outside start to pick up, whistling a bit as it gusted around the buildings of the keep.

"May I ask why Slevoic was here, Your Grace?" Javes finally asked, breaking the silence.

"That's something for the High Council to answer," the Fyrst said, his face as remote and cold as it was when we first saw him in his hall. He turned his head again to look at Laurel. "All this you kept from me, Faena. Why?”

Laurel's ears were against his skull as he indicated the haunt-crowded room. "Did you know, Your Grace, that these are from just one shipment of—goods?" He nodded at Honor's haunt standing next to my chair. "I left Honor Ash Faena alive and well, but when I reached Iversly, I found her body already there, seasoned and fashioned into a church Staff of Office. With bells. As Rabbit Two Trees'son has said again and again—for five years the High Council couldn't find the runners preying on its people? On this scale?" He rumbled deep in his chest. "And just how did these runners manage to kill a Faena?” Both Loran and Wyln turned to look at Honor, frowns gathering on their faces.

"I also found out upon my arrival in Iversly that King Jusson had no intention of repudiating the treaty between Iversterre and us," Laurel said. "In fact, when honored Jusson discovered that the treaty had been violated, he charged me to find a way to prevent war.”

"What are you saying, Faena?" the Fyrst asked, his frown deepening.

"Then I further discover that not only is Dragoness Moraina one of the treaty signers," Laurel said, ignoring His Grace's question, "but that she also carried on a correspondence with King Jusson's great-grandsire.”

"What?" All remoteness fled as the Fyrst pushed himself out of his chair and stood staring down at Laurel, while Wyln shook his head slowly.

Laurel's eyes glowed. "But am I told this? Am I told any of it? No. Instead, I'm sent off to search for Rabbit in the back mountains of the human kingdom. I'm even kept away from Veldecke, where there was a rape and murder of a fae—and, though the Faena who strode there knew who did it, he took no one.” The Fyrst and Wyln turned their heads to Groskin, who flinched.

"Oh, no, Your Grace," Laurel said. "He was the only one present who hadn't, and he was punished for naming who did." He settled back in his chair. "You say I've kept things from you. Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm saving my questions and comments for the full Council." Laurel's whiskers swept back to show his eyeteeth. "Then I will question everyone most diligently, even the Council representative for the dark elves.”

"Will you?" Wyln asked, his flame-filled eyes matching Laurel's amber stare.

"No, Wyln," the Fyrst said, putting his hand on the Enchanter's shoulder, and Wyln subsided. "The Faena can ask all the questions he wants, for I am very interested in the answers.” It fell silent again and in the quiet we could hear trumpets. The Fyrst looked over at the window. "More of the Council arriving. I shall have to go greet them." He looked back at us. "The only way a secret between two can be kept is for one to be dead—"

A very faint smile came over Javes' face.

"—and even that is not certain." The Fyrst started to turn to leave. "Still, I'd ask that we keep what was discussed here—" He broke off as he caught sight of the guard sent to get Captain Suiden still standing in the room. His eyes went to the open door and the other guards bunched there staring back at us.

One stepped forward and then stopped, blocked by the haunts. "Slaves, Your Grace?" he asked.

The Fyrst hesitated, then nodded. "It appears so.”

A moaning sigh ran through the guards, echoed in the wind outside. "Sold in the Turalian slave markets,"

another whispered, and Suiden's face clouded with shame.

The trumpets sounded again and the Fyrst once more looked at the window. "Even more arriving. At this rate the Council will soon be fully assembled and the Faena can ask his questions." He faced Wyln. "I have to go down and greet the new arrivals who, I'm sure, will also request to see Two Trees'son. If any such requests come to you, turn them down."

Wyln nodded. "Yes, Your Grace.”

The Fyrst turned to me. "You will stay close to your Cyhn, young human. Even better if you stay close to both your Cyhn and the Faena. Do not wander off by yourself, or allow anyone to lure you away.”

I nodded also, thinking that the space around me was going to be awfully crowded, especially as a couple of the guards, at His Grace's gesture, attached themselves to us. The trumpets blew again, signaling the arrival of anomer Council member, and the Fyrst moved towards the door.

"I will send for you again when I have time," he said, unclear on which "you" he was speaking to, but I had a nasty suspicion that he meant me.

Uncle Havram went back to his ship, "to conduct an inquiry as to how the archdoyen managed to get past his vigilant guards." He looked at me, his face drawn with concern. "But I'll be back, lad." As he turned to go, he tried to smile at Captain Suiden. "Hmmph! Should' ve let you toss His bloody Reverence over the side—or at least hang him from the yardarm a little."

He didn't wait for the captain's response, which was just as well as Suiden didn't give one. The captain did rouse himself to follow Laurel's suggestion that we quit the Fyrst's chambers. As we left, I looked around the room, thinking that a battlefield had fewer wounded.

Laurel, Wyln and I did not bother to return to the garden, as the wind had risen to a continuous wail, and instead went with Suiden, Javes, and Allwyn to our chambers. Upon entering, I'd expected to see Chancellor Berle there, but besides the embassy staff, only Lord Esclaur was present. He sat before the fire with a goblet of wine and a book borrowed from the castle's library.

"Where is the chancellor?" Javes asked.

"Berle discovered the steam bath." Putting the book down, Esclaur stood and stretched. "She said rocks are heated and water poured over them to make steam while you sit in it. Supposed to be very relaxing, but it sounds much too much like summer in Iversly, indeed it does.”

I smiled, sort of. "I don't know how relaxing the chancellor will find it as it's communal." I saw the question on Esclaur's face. "Males and females, lords and servants all share the same bath.”

"My word," Lord Esclaur whispered, awe and glee fighting for supremacy on his face. He then took in the haunts pouring into the room after us and he sobered. "They took off a little while ago as if someone had yelled 'fire.'" He looked back at me. "Is everything all right, Rabbit?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, of course, but nothing came out. I blinked, took a deep breath and tried again. "No.”

Esclaur frowned as he stared at me and it deepened as he looked around at the rest. "What has happened?”

"A reckoning, Lord Esclaur," Doyen Allwyn said. He also tried to smile but didn't quite make it. "I'm going to pray and meditate. Blessings." The doyen went into his chamber.

"Chancellor Berle did not tell His Grace who was behind the smuggling, Sro Esclaur, or why," Suiden said, his voice tired. He ran a hand over his face. "So we did." He went over to the wine decanter and poured a goblet.

"What?”

"Makes you wonder exactly what Berle did tell the Fyrst, eh?" Javes said. Esclaur shot a glance at Wyln standing quiet next to me watching all of us, and Javes gave a short laugh. "Oh, they've figured us out so completely that we've no secrets from them." He joined Suiden at the wine decanter. "On top of that, Obruesk escaped."

"What?”

"Some pious sailor apparently yielded to His Reverence's entreaties, dressed him as a crew member and helped him jump ship," Javes said, taking a gulp of wine. "He's now loose in the city somewhere, having cast off his seaman's togs for another disguise.”

"It doesn't make sense, sirs," I said. "There's absolutely nothing or no one for him here.” Javes shrugged.

"Perhaps he heard about the steam baths and decided to mount a holy campaign against them."

"But—"

"But," Laurel said over me, "mysteries and revelations aside"—he started herding me towards my chamber door, Wyln falling in with us—"there is much we still need to cover."

"Why?" Suiden asked.

We all turned and looked at the captain as he set his empty goblet down on the table. Javes started to refill it, but Suiden laid his hand over the top of it as he stared at us.

"Honored captain?" Laurel asked.

"Why?" Suiden repeated, distant curiosity on his face. "Do you really think you can affect the High Council's decision?”

"Do you know something, Suiden?" Javes asked, setting his own glass down as he also looked at us.

Suiden shrugged. "Think on it, Javes. The Fyrst dissolved Rabbit's indentures because he was disposed to do so, not because of any clever arguments, triple oaths, or jewels from dragon hoards."

"But the dead bird—" Esclaur began.

"That was just a convenience, Sro Esclaur. His Grace didn't even bother to verify whether you were telling the truth—which he could've very easily either through Laurel or the Witness Circle—even though you'd volunteered." Suiden looked back at Wyln and Laurel. "He was much more interested in King Jusson being an elf wizard—”

"Oh, no," Wyln said, smiling. "Not a wizard. Or an enchanter. Yet. Say talent-born.”

"—and that Rabbit was both his cousin and sworn to him. I think it was then that the Fyrst decided to keep Rabbit, if not for himself, at least out of the—"

"Magus," Laurel said, shooting a glance at Wyln.

"—Magus' hands." Suiden shrugged again. "Up until that point, His Grace was more than willing to give Rabbit back to his master—and didn't give a pox-rotted damn what anyone else thought or wanted.”

"Yet knowing this, honored prince, you were eager to negotiate Cyhn for your, ah, charge," Wyln pointed out.

"Protection is protection, Sro Wyln. Even so, I was assured by the Fyrst's refusal to jettison Laurel and appoint you in his stead," Suiden pointed out in return. "Why is that, I wonder?”

"Again, I'm amazed, honored prince, in your shrugging off the Faena's not revealing who sent him," Wyln said, ignoring both Suiden's question and Laurel, who turned and stared at him.

"As I said before, I trust Rabbit's instincts. He turns his back on Laurel. He does not turn his back on you.”

In the silence I could hear the wind howl, and a gust rattled the windows. Javes jumped and then looked around, frowning as he took in the embassy staff watching us with wide eyes. "I think that perhaps we should have this conversation somewhere less public, what?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed for the sleeping chamber he shared with Suiden.