The Straits of Galahesh: Book Two of The Lays of Anuskaya (27 page)

“Those are my reasons alone.”

“Yours and Bahett’s.”

“It’s no secret the Kaymakam and I are to be married.”

“This has nothing to do with your marriage.”

The wind blew the willow vines, tickling Atiana’s ankles and the hem of her dress. “I would know with whom I’m speaking before I say one more word.”

“Consider me a friend for now.”

“That’s not good enough.”

In the darkness, she saw him shift his weight from one hip to another, perhaps choosing his words carefully. “I’m a man loyal to the Kamarisi.”

“Then why are you sneaking about his cemetery?”

“It’s not the Kamarisi’s. It’s Bahett’s, the Kaymakam’s, and it is
him
I do not trust.”

“And by that you mean you do not trust
me
.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.”

Again he was silent for a time. “You’ve come here at Bahett’s bidding, and if I didn’t know who you were, I wouldn’t think much of it. A princess from a foreign land, a woman who’ll soon become his ilkadin, would have every right to visit the cemetery, perhaps paying respect to relatives who died here long ago. But it is known that you are Matra, and this is what gives me pause.”

He was coming altogether too close to the mark for comfort. “Who was chasing me?”

“Men who wished to bid you good fortune for your wedding day.” She could hear the sneer in his voice.

“I begin to wonder if they are allies of yours, meant to scare me into telling you secrets.”

“A shrewd thought, My Lady Princess. They were allies once, and not so long ago. They are men fiercely loyal to the Kamarisi.”

“And you are not?”

“We’re every bit as loyal. We merely differ on
how
we think the Kamarisi should be protected.”

“Why?” Atiana asked. “Why does the Kamarisi need such protection?”

A series of clicks came from beyond the willow tree. A moment later, more clicks came from the space before her. She could see little, but she thought she saw his shoulder and arm moving, perhaps from something he was manipulating in his hand, a device of some sort.

When he spoke again, his voice had risen in pitch, and it was subtly faster than before. “He needs protection because he is not himself. And do you know why?”

This was all strangely similar to the conversation she’d had with Bahett in Galostina. This man knew she had come here at Bahett’s request. What he didn’t know was how much Bahett had told her. She thought of lying. She also thought that telling the truth might give him reason to kill her. But she didn’t think this was the case. His motives, strangely enough, felt sincere. And she needed to understand how his purpose differed from Bahett’s.

“He needs protection because the Lady Arvaneh has enthralled him.”

“Which is why Bahett brought you here. A Matra, from the shores of Anuskaya, here just as Lady Arvaneh arrives…”

Atiana didn’t answer. He’d come close enough to the truth. It was she that had contacted Bahett, but now she wondered how much Bahett had looked upon the overture as good fortune. Suddenly it felt like she’d been manipulated into the whole thing, though she knew that wasn’t the case. It couldn’t be…

“It’s said,” he continued, “that the Matri cannot spy upon Baressa or beyond it because of the straits. Is it so?”

“Tell me first why the others, the ones you were so recently allied with, would wish me dead.”

“It must be for the same reason,” he said, more to himself than her. “They see you as a threat.” She saw his head turn, focusing on her once more. There was a pregnant pause where she felt him staring at her in the darkness, his mind working through the implications. “Who is it you’ve come to spy upon?” He spoke these words slowly, the timbre of his voice low and resonant.

Atiana tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She had a primal urge to run. So strong was it that she’d taken a step back before realizing it. She composed herself, forced her breathing to remain steady, as she did in the drowning basin after submerging herself in the bone-chilling water. “I’m here to spy on no one.”

“Come, My Lady.” He took a half step forward. “We both know that isn’t true.”

And then she understood. He thought she was there to spy on him, or his allies, or both. He thought her an ally of Bahett, and Bahett a puppet of the Kamarisi. Surely he thought she was there to protect the Kamarisi. He didn’t understand that Bahett was acting beyond the orders of his Lord.

“You don’t understand,” Atiana said.

He took another half step forward. “Who have you come to spy upon?”

She took one step back. The vines were at her back now, swaying, brushing against her hair.

Another series of clicks came. They were short, and very, very soft.

Atiana heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath. “You must go.”

She shivered as he approached, but he merely guided her quickly, though not roughly, out from beneath the willow, spreading the vines for her as she went. “Go to the break in the wall. Tell Bahett you were attacked, and that you ran for safety.”

“And if he asks who was chasing me?”

“Tell him the truth”—he stepped away, his form receding into the darkness—“that you don’t know.”

“I would trust the Kirdhash family a hundred times before I trust you.”

Yalessa was brought to Atiana’s side by two black forms. They left, speeding along the path behind the mysterious men.

“We’ll speak again,” he said. And with that he was gone, lost behind the pale echo of the tombs.

“Come,” Atiana said, taking Yalessa’s hand.

They fled, but before they’d gone twenty paces, there was the clash of steel, only a few rows away.

Atiana went as quickly as she could. The fighting reached a fervor, but it began to fade as they made their way slowly toward the break in the wall.

At last, they found it. It stood ahead of them like an open maw, the landscape pitch-dark beyond it.

“Ancients preserve us,” she said softly as she and Yalessa climbed over the broken stone and made their way slowly but surely back toward the kasir.

As the sounds of battle slowed and then died altogether, she had no idea who might have prevailed, but she found herself praying.

Praying that the mysterious man at the willow had died.

W
hen Atiana returned to the kasir, she summoned Bahett’s seneschal, a wizened old man who seemed as likely to trip on the hem of his robes as take another step. She spoke with him for two hours, and he was nearly ready to pull Bahett from the masquerade, but Atiana begged him not to. She didn’t want anything to seem amiss, especially since she and Yalessa hadn’t been harmed.

When she finally made it back to her rooms, she downed a small carafe of warmed vodka to calm herself before bed. She did manage to fall asleep, but when she awoke a short while later the effects of the liquor had passed and she found herself wide awake. The words of the man from the willow kept playing through her mind. They had been laced with truth, and yet each time she worked it through, she decided he was lying. Clearly he was an agent of the Kamarisi, or Arvaneh herself, set to turn her against Bahett and his allies.

And still—

A knock came at the door to Atiana’s apartments. Any trace of sleep vanished in an instant.

The knock came again.

In the outer chamber, Yalessa stirred and moved to the door. A soft click came, and the sounds of whispers drifted in to her. A moment later, Yalessa, carrying a lit taper, slipped inside her room and rushed to her bed.

“Bahett wishes to speak with you.”

Atiana swallowed, remembering the words of the tall man from the cemetery. She maneuvered herself down from the bed and pulled on her night coat as Yalessa lit another taper. They moved to the outer chamber, and Atiana settled herself at a table with several opulent, padded chairs.

“Send him in,” Atiana said, “and take my room. We may be a while.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

The dark form of Bahett slipped into the room. Yalessa retreated to Atiana’s bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“I’m most sorry.” Bahett moved to the table, his handsome face filled with regret. “Janissaries were stationed at all the entrances to the cemetery, but it is large. It’s a mistake that won’t be made again.” He sat down, his face lit in soft, golden light. “The guardsman at the southern entrance said he heard fighting among the tombs. Did you hear it as well?”

She nodded. “Just as we were leaving through the break in the wall.”

“And you saw no one?”

And now it came to it. She had told the seneschal nothing about the men near the willow, only that she had heard sounds of battle among the tombs, but she had debated ever since what she would tell Bahett. She did not trust the tall, dark man she’d spoken to, but he hadn’t said anything that ran counter to what she knew of the Kamarisi and the Lady Arvaneh.

Atiana had always been good at trump, and one of the things she’d learned was not to play her high cards early. Not unless you knew you could run the trick. And she certainly couldn’t do that, so for now she would protect what cards she did have.

“Ancients preserve me, I did not,” she said to him.

Bahett’s face relaxed. He lifted her hands and kissed them. It was a warm and tender gesture. “I’m so relieved, Atiana. I don’t know what I would have done had they found you.”

“Who were they?”

Bahett’s eyes went faraway. “I wish I knew, but trust me when I say that no effort will be spared.”

“And what of the servant, the eunuch?”

He focused on her once more. “An impostor. We found the one who should have been sent in his bed, his throat cut.” He leaned forward until he was sitting at the edge of his chair, and then he reached out and took her left hand in his. It was not Nikandr’s hand, but it was nice all the same. “Atiana, I will be blunt. It may be best that we abandon our plan. I would not put you in deeper danger, and the chances that Arvaneh will discover our plans are now too great. Clearly she suspects something, enough that she is willing to have you killed before you can learn more about her.”

Atiana had been ready for him to say something completely different. She thought he would urge her to continue her efforts, no matter what the danger might be, but this was a side of Bahett she hadn’t counted on. He had been so adamant in Vostroma, and now, here he was, asking her to back down.

“I have a duty to my family, Bahett, to the Grand Duchy as well.”

“It may be that the Kamarisi will see reason. He may, perhaps, still be led out from under the shadow of Arvaneh’s influence. I still haven’t had the chance to speak to him at length, but when I do—”

“You said
Arvaneh
is the one pulling the strings. You said the Kamarisi is powerless. There’s something strange happening, and I would learn its nature, danger or not.” He looked as though he was about to speak again, but she talked over him. “My father arrives in less than a week. In order to protect him, to protect all our interests here, I will take the dark, as soon as can be arranged.”

He smiled, the candlelight making him even more handsome than he was in the daylight. “My brave princess.”

She felt herself blush as she pulled her hand away. “Go,” she said, more strongly than she’d meant.

The following morning, Atiana went early to a terrace overlooking an expansive garden. Bahett was hosting a social for the Kamarisi and his retinue to meet the first of the dignitaries from the Grand Duchy who’d come. Atiana would be among the guests, of course, but so would Vaasak Dhalingrad, the younger brother of Duke Leonid and the man Father had chosen to act as his negotiator in the week before his arrival.

For Atiana’s part, she was to meet Bahett’s wives, or at least most of them. Some would be gone, tending to Bahett’s estates around the island of Galahesh. But the most important, including Bahett’s current ilkadin, would be in attendance.

Atiana met them, seventeen in all. They were all pretty, though in markedly different ways. Some were tall with bright eyes. Others had lustrous dark hair and strong cheekbones. Others still had full lips and fuller hips. Atiana felt strange upon exchanging pleasantries with them. They were real women, all of them. She had expected them to have nary a thought in their pretty little heads, but they were refined. They were well spoken. They knew much of the political landscape, if their subtle yet polite hints about her reasons for wedding Bahett were any indicator.