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„The trading climate would improve if a friend ruled the east. He's been trying to gather financial backing."

Bragi stared at the books. Her explanation sounded plausible. As far as it went. Was she yielding two-thirds of the truth to mask the remainder?

„Sounds like a good idea to me. It would benefit Kavelin, surely, if the historical inertia of Shinsan could be shifted. Otherwise it doesn't matter who's in power."

Again she made him sit through an extended silence. He did not let it distract him.

„What are you saying?"

„That I wouldn't be averse to a scheme. But I want an understanding up front. You're Chatelaine of Maisak. I don't want to worry about my hold on the Savernake Gap."

„I see. You want guarantees. What did you have in mind?"

Bragi smiled. Her attitude betrayed her thinking. „Not now. Not here. We need time to think. And I want wit­ nesses. Varthlokkur and the Unborn."

„You don't trust anyone, do you?"

„Not now. Not anymore. Why should I? Your scheme is just one of my problems. I'm going to walk light and careful till it's all under control."

She laughed. He responded with a smile. She said, „It's too bad you were born a westerner. You would have made a great Tervola."

„Possibly. My mother was a witch."

She seemed startled. She started to say something, but was interrupted by a servant who announced, „My Lady, there's a gentleman here looking for His Majesty."

Bragi looked at Mist and shrugged. „Send him in," she said.

Dahl Haas bustled through the doorway. He still looked fresh. „Sire, I've been looking all over."

„What is it?" Bragi had a bad feeling. Haas looked grim.

„An emergency, Sire. Please?" He gave Mist a meaningful glance.

What is this? Bragi wondered. „We'll talk later," he told Mist, and followed a frantic Dahl out of the house. „Come on. Spill it, Dahl."

„It's General Liakopulos. Somebody tried to kill him."

„Tried? He's all right?" Kavelin's army was the founda­ tion of Ragnarson's power. Liakopulos was one of his most important officers.

„He's in bad shape, Sire. I left him with Doctor Wachtel. Doc said he didn't know if he'd make it. That was three hours ago."

„Let's ride, then. Who did it? A brawl?" The General frequented rough dives. He had been warned, but warnings did no good.

„No, Sire. Assassins." Haas kicked his mount into a trot beside his King. „He was riding outside the palace. They ambushed him in the park. He got one of them, but they cut him up pretty bad. Gales found him and brought him in."

„Who was the dead man?" Wind streamed past Bragi's ear. It bore a smell of rain.

„Nobody recognized him. There wasn't anything on him to identify him."

„Harish?"

„No. He was fair. Possibly from the north."

„Find Trebilcock when we get back."

„He was with the General when I left, Sire." Haas kicked his mount again. The animal had been pushed hard for a long time. Bragi recognized its fatigue and eased the pace. Dahl added, „He seemed to take it personal. Like it was an attack on him."

„Good." Bragi eased the pace even more. It had been a long day for his animal, too.

And this long day was not over yet. Not for him.

5

Year 1016 AFE; Mystery Attackers

Ragnarson pushed into the room where General Liakopulos lay. The Guildsman was as pale as bone china. „How is he?"

Doctor Wachtel, a grisled old man who had been Royal Physician forever, replied, „He's resting."

„Will he make it?"

„It could go either way. He lost a lot of blood. The wounds aren't that bad. Nothing vital injured. But when you've been cut so many times... ."

„This the dead man?"

„The assassin? Yes."

Ragnarson lifted the linen covering. He saw an unprepos­ sessing young man of medium height, slightly overweight. He tried to imagine the man on his feet, moving around. He reminded himself that they looked smaller and meeker when they were dead. „Where's Trebilcock?"

„The General came to an hour ago. He described his assailants. He'd cut the other two. Michael went looking for wounded men."

„Uhm. You talk to Varthlokkur about this?"

The doorway sentries stirred. Wachtel shrugged. „He may know. I haven't told him. Didn't see any need."

„Maybe he could give you a hand."

The old man scowled. „Am I incompetent?" He was the best physician in Kavelin, and jealous of his reputation.

„Guards. One of you get the wizard. He's in the brown guest suite." To Wachtel, Ragnarson added, „Who better to question our friend?" He indicated the dead man.

„Uhm." Wachtel put a world of disgust into his grunt. He and the wizard had collaborated before. He had a profound loathing for sorcery in every form, though he grudgingly admitted that Varthlokkur was a master of life magicks, and occasionally offered hope when his own science failed him.

He did not protest much. He was a truly good man, incapable of a spiteful or wicked act. If there had been no other hope for Liakopulos, he would have summoned the wizard himself.

It would not have occurred to him, though, to yield the corpse to the sorcerer. He only concerned himself with the living.

He was quite civil when a sleep-fuddled Varthlokkur arrived. He quickly accounted the locations, depths, and severity of his patient's wounds. He controlled his scowl as Varthlokkur ran his hands over the General, making anoth­ er examination.

„You've done all you can? Hot broth, and so forth? Herbs for the pain?"

Wachtel nodded.

„He ought to recover. Might have trouble using the one arm, and there'll be scars. No point me getting involved."

Wachtel's scowl lapsed into a somber smile. He turned it on Ragnarson.

„Check this one," Bragi told the wizard. „This's the man Liakopulos killed."

„One of the assassins?" Varthlokkur peeled back a lid and stared into an eye.

„Presumably." Of the room in general, Ragnarson asked, „There couldn't be any mistake, could there?"

„The General identified him while he was conscious," Wachtel replied.

Varthlokkur looked at Bragi, said nothing. Ragnarson's skin felt crawly. „The Unborn?" he suggested softly.

The wizard nodded. „That's the easiest way. Down in one of the closed courts where we won't disturb anybody."

„Guards. One of you find your sergeant. Tell him I need four men and a stretcher."

Four Guardsmen came. One was Slugbait. He gave Ragnarson a big grin and rattled a pocket filled with coins before assuming a more businesslike manner. He was a soldier here, not a Captures captain. He and his compan­ ions rolled the corpse onto the stretcher and awaited in­ structions.

„The back exercise court," Ragnarson told them. „Just take him down and leave him."

Their eyes went to Varthlokkur, slid away. The color left their faces. They had guessed what would happen.

„Did anyone interrogate Gales?" Bragi asked.

„Trebilcock," Wachtel replied. „I didn't pay attention. Varthlokkur. Does his breathing seem easier?"

The wizard bent over the General. „I think so. He's definitely past the worst. He'll make it."

Ragnarson and the wizard followed the stretcher-bearers. Bragi said, „I saw Mist tonight. I'd stumbled across a couple things I was curious about. She answered my questions, but she was evasive."

„And?"

„She's involved in some scheme to get her throne back. She claims a group of Tervola approached her, but nothing would come of it. She's in deeper than she'll admit."