Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) (33 page)

“It went further than that. We met when he saved my life after I ran away from home. I won’t bore you with the details of that escapade. Suffice to say I lived with him and his
adda
for nigh a year. He was still one of the most sought after companions at his
hethare
club—you remember the Seralye? Well, I fell in love with him and he with me. I went so far as to ask him to be my leman should I be forced to wed my sire’s choice of mate for me.”

“My sire finally tracked me down and insisted I return home. Dylen persuaded me to do so—to protect my name and reputation and safeguard my future. He knew I intended to follow in
Aba
’s footsteps and join the diplomatic corps. All he asked of me was that I remember him and stay his friend. I promised I would and more. I told him I would always love him and when I had established myself I would come back for him.”

Riodan sighed. “I broke every promise. I betrayed his trust and turned my back on him when he needed me most. You know his father fell deathly ill and only Eiren could possibly heal him. But Eiren was abroad and Rohyr alone could summon him home. By sheer luck, you chose the Seralye in which to celebrate Rysander’s majority and thus Dylen revealed himself and gained Rohyr’s help. What you don’t know is just the previous evening, Dylen approached me for the first time in almost fifteen years and begged me to get him an audience with Rohyr. I refused him.”

He closed his eyes, shame and misery pinching his features.

“To do as he asked would have revealed our previous association and jeopardized both my standing in society and the betrothal my parents had labored to arrange for me. Worse, I pretended to have been no more than a one-time patron of his to keep my intended from knowing the truth of our affair.”

“Sweet Veres,” Keosqe muttered, too shocked to say more.

“No one save for our parents, Rohyr, and possibly Lassen knows this about us. Now you do as well. It shames me to the core to admit my perfidy and cowardice. All the more since Dylen has forgiven me and taken me back. Truth be told, I don’t feel I deserve either. My joy and relief when he gave me that second chance knew no bounds. But I still feared that he might yet change his mind; that I might still lose him anew. I tried not to do anything that might displease him and held my tongue with him even when I knew I shouldn’t lest he take it askance. He noticed this and chided me for my lack of faith in him. And he reminded me that he loves me for who I am, all my virtues and faults included, and I shouldn’t change into someone he doesn’t know.” Riodan’s sad smile turned luminous. “I still don’t feel I’m worthy of him. But I accept that he believes I am. And when I find myself behaving otherwise I remember his words and take comfort in the knowledge that he loves me and has sworn before Veres to share himself and his life with me evermore.”

Keosqe looked down, understanding just how strongly Riodan identified with Tristen as someone who had erred and struggled to regain his beloved’s love and trust.

“You all think I risked my life in Asmara out of duty,” Riodan continued. “In truth I did it to protect Dylen. And it was worth it—the burns and the pain and the ruination of my back. It was all worth it. Because he forgave me and bound himself to me. My scars remind me every day to be grateful for that. It helps that they are visible and I can touch them. The same can’t be said for Tristen. He has no wounds to speak of. At least, wounds you can see. Nonetheless they are there and your inability to trust him deepens them to the point of festering.”

Riodan clasped Keosqe’s shoulder and gently shook him. “Reach out to him, Kes. Don’t wait until he’s changed so much that you no longer recognize the Deir you fell in love with.”

Chapter 22

Unmask

“You did well, Tris-
min
. I laud you for acting so quickly.”

Tristen smiled with pleasure. He had just assisted Eiren Sarvan in cutting away gangrenous tissue from a patient’s limb. Hardly had they finished when the sleeping drought administered to the Deir beforehand wore off and the patient started awake, crying out in agony. Tristen reacted instinctively and, placing his hands on the bandaged limb, managed to banish the pain long enough to give Eiren time to sedate the patient once more.

He glanced back at the unconscious Deir as they left the room. “He came around too soon, didn’t he?” he murmured.

Eiren nodded. “The dosage Coreon prepared was too weak. I’ll have to reassess his progress. This isn’t the first time he’s erred. Imagine if he’d given a much too strong dose instead.”

Tristen shuddered at the thought. It was not unheard of for a patient to succumb to an overdose of a medication. The resulting charges of incompetence or criminal negligence had cost healers their reputations and stalled many an apprentice’s medical career before it started. Tristen pitied his fellow apprentice but he could not defend Coreon’s carelessness.

They headed back to Eiren’s consultation room. Upon entering they found Keosqe waiting none too patiently. He stood up as soon as they appeared.

While thrilled to see his lover, Tristen could not help worrying about his reason for being there. Generally, the Rikara Public Hospital served the ordinary folk. Upper-class Deira either consulted with their personal physicians or went to the Order of the Hospitallers’ Health Center. Apparently, Eiren shared the thought.

“Last you visited me here, it was to introduce Tristen,” he commented. “I hope your reason this time is just as benign.”

Keosqe smiled faintly. “Rest you, cousin, I didn’t come for a consultation. But I need Tristen’s assistance. Can you spare him?”

Eiren regarded him searchingly. Keosqe returned his gaze without flinching.

Though he was no adept, Tristen had a born healer’s sensitivity to the employment of the mind gifts. He perceived quickly that Keosqe and Eiren were engaged in mind speech. His suspicion was confirmed when Eiren frowned and then glanced at him.

“I can spare him,” he said. “But do take good care of him, Kes. He isn’t as experienced as you and I.”

Keosqe nodded. “I should have trained him. No matter, we won’t go alone.” He turned to Tristen. “Have you an idea where your friend Mirdan might be? He hasn’t been to his rooms near the University all week.”

Tristen started. “All week? How odd. I wonder why?”

“Possibly because he knows we’re looking for him.”

“Looking for him?” Tristen tensed. “Why would you—? Has he done anything wrong?”

“I fear he has,” Keosqe confirmed. “Will you help me find him?”

Tristen looked from him to Eiren. At the slight nod of the physician, he made up his mind to trust Keosqe. Without further ado, he pulled off his smock, hung it on one of the hooks by the door and fetching his tunic and belt, hurriedly donned them.

“Mirdan kept a room at a boarding house in the Quarter,” he said as he dressed. “I stayed the night once during a storm. I can take you there.” He flushed when Keosqe eyed him questioningly. “I slept on the floor on a pallet,” he hastened to add.

Keosqe looked away but not before Tristen espied his expression of hurt and distaste. He cringed in renewed shame and regret.

“Now is not the time to dwell on your errors, Tris-
min
,” Eiren quietly reminded him. “Kes needs you. Do your best to help him.”

Tristen swallowed. He started when Keosqe lightly gripped his shoulder. The warmth of Keosqe’s hand reminded him how much he missed the noble’s touch.

“Let us go,” Keosqe said.

Exhaling to force his tension to ebb, Tristan nodded and followed him out.

* * * *

The boarding house was one of many nondescript establishments tucked into a side street far from the lively main road of the Quarter. It was a three-story affair with little more than a miniscule foyer preceding the narrow stairs. Mirdan’s room was on the third floor, Tristen told Keosqe.

Keosqe sent two agents down the alley to the left of the establishment to cut off any attempt to leave the house by its windows. Another ushered the alarmed owner of the house back into his cubbyhole of an office while the remaining two followed Keosqe and Tristen up the stairs to their quarry’s room.

Tristen wondered what his erstwhile friend had done but had not dared thus far to press Keosqe for more details. When they arrived on the third floor and started to walk down the corridor, he finally ventured a question.

“Are you going to apprehend him?” he softly asked.

Keosqe said, “That remains to be seen.”

Tristen frowned but said no more. He came to the door of Mirdan’s room and raised his hand to knock. Keosqe caught his wrist with a slight shake of his head.

He pressed an ear to the door and listened for a bit. He then nodded to his agents, which Tristen guessed indicated he’d heard movement inside. Keosqe very carefully pushed the door but it was bolted from inside. He and the agents drew back on either side of the door and motioned to Tristen to knock.

His heart pounding, Tristen obeyed. There was the faint sound of footsteps approaching from inside.

“Who is it?”

Tristen gulped at the sound of Mirdan’s voice. “It’s Tristen.”

“Tris? What do you want?”

Mirdan did not sound hostile or suspicious, only surprised. Tristen supposed that was not unexpected given the circumstances of their last meeting.

“I need to speak with you,” Tristen said, amazed at the steadiness of his voice. “About what happened with Keosqe. Wherefore your attempt to seduce him? And he said you claimed I slept with you. Why did you lie about that? I don’t understand, Mir.”

There was a pause followed by a rueful chuckle. “Yes, I imagine that is confusing.”

Tristen heard the footsteps retreat and then return after a minute or so. The bolt slid back with a slightly grating sound.

The door swung open to reveal Mirdan. He was dressed to go out and likely far away, Tristen realized, when he caught a glimpse of a packed bag and a thin cloak on the bed behind.

“You’re leaving?” he blurted.

Mirdan shrugged. “A family emergency. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before too long.”

“Say rather you won’t be leaving at all.”

Mirdan stepped back with a jerk when Keosqe elbowed his way past Tristen into the small room, one agent on his heels while the other barred the way out.

“What’s the meaning of this,
Dyhar
?” Mirdan demanded. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Keosqe nodded toward the bag. “Then you won’t object if we search your belongings before you leave.”

Mirdan scowled. “Go ahead. You won’t find anything.”

Keosqe motioned to the agent to search his bag. As the Deir proceeded to do so, Mirdan paced impatiently back and forth.

At length, he stopped and glowered at Tristen. “I take it you led them here. A fine friend you are,” he groused.

Tristen flinched. “I’m sorry. Mir. But I couldn’t refuse Keosqe’s request.”

“Why? Are you afraid he’ll toss you out on your arse again?”

“Nay! I—” Tristen stopped. “You know I’ve moved back?”

Mirdan snorted. “Easy enough to discover that. All I had to do was follow you home.”

“Follow me? Why did you—?’

The agent straightened and, looking at Keosqe, shook his head. At that, Mirdan rolled his eyes and said, “Satisfied? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to catch the last coach to Edessa.”

“Edessa?” Keosqe regarded him skeptically. “Surely you mean Tenerith?”

Tristen looked from Mirdan to Keosqe then back again. Did he imagine it or had his friend looked apprehensive for a moment? But Mirdan shook his head and then met Keosqe’s gaze.

“Why in Aisen would I wish to go to Tenerith?” he challenged.

“To meet with your employer,” Keosqe replied. “Or should I say your fellow separatists?”

Mirdan huffed. “What are you talking about? I hail from Edessa,
Dyhar
, not from that rebel-infested province.”

“Hardly infested,” Keosqe scoffed. “The Ferrenda sympathizers are largely confined to the western hills, holed up in their burrows like the rodents that they are.”

Mirdan’s mouth tightened and his eyes flashed. “That’s odd. Last I heard they overran three border towns,” he said a touch tauntingly. “Despite the royal forces’ best efforts to stem their charges.”

Keosqe’s eyes glittered. “And where did you hear that?”

Mirdan seemed to falter and his cheeks colored slightly. “Oh, just from gossip here and there,” he answered with a vague wave of his hand. “It isn’t a crime to listen to simple talk, is it?”

“But the situation in Tenerith is not common knowledge and therefore hardly fodder for simple talk,” Keosqe grimly pointed out. “Outside of certain government offices, the only people who would be aware of the skirmishes in the province would be the Tenerithians themselves. And given the embargo on all correspondence to and from Tenerith, casual news of any kind would not make its way to Rikara.”

“What are you insinuating,
Dyhar
?” Mirdan asked, his tone now belligerent.

“That only one in direct and secret communication with certain elements in Tenerith could possibly know of the fighting occurring in the province at present.”

Mirdan sneered. Tristen was shocked at how the expression changed his friend’s face into something less benign.

“You searched my bag and found nothing. You have no reason to detain me.”

“Search him,” Keosqe ordered the agent.

Mirdan scowled and then rolled his eyes. He spread his hands and allowed the Deir to search his person. When that yielded nothing either, he glared at Keosqe and sarcastically said, “You’ve wasted your time and mine.” He looked sideways at Tristen, an unpleasant smirk curving his mouth. “Really, Tris, will you take your swain and his lackeys away already?”

With a flippant salute to Keosqe, he walked to the bed. Mirdan meticulously folded his cloak and, cradling it in one arm, then picked up the bag. He turned around and smiled sweetly at the others.

“Well, I must be off. Wish me a safe journey, Tris,” he drawled.

Of a sudden, Keosqe blocked his way. “Hold!” He glanced at the agent and said, “Take the cloak. See what he’s hidden in it.”