Выбрать главу

She had forgotten. “Yes, Your Highness. I just had a conversation with Lord Brugaosa and Lord Norinde. They’re eager to return to their duchies, fearing that if they remain here you’ll take command of their armies. They intend to request that you give them leave to go, and they tried to convince me to support them in this. I refused, but I thought you should know what they have in mind. They may go to the other duchesses.”

“No doubt they will,” the queen said, looking pensive. “Thank you, Diani. I’ll deal with the dukes. You just find the traitors in my castle.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, pulling the door open. “It will be my pleasure.”

Abeni had known it would come to this, that in making it appear that Kreazur was a traitor and thus confirming in the minds of all the worst suspicions of Diani of Curlinte, she would deny herself the one asset that made her most valuable to the Weaver: her access to the queen. Given some time, she felt reasonably certain that she could regain Olesya’s trust, but until that happened, she lived in constant fear of her next encounter with the movement’s leader.

She actually believed some good might come of the queen’s refusal to confide in her, though she knew that explaining this to the weaver might prove difficult. Among the Qirsi who had come to Castle Yserne with their ladies and lords, two were already pledged to the movement-the first ministers of Macharzo and Norinde. The rest remained loyal to the courts. For now. But with each day that passed, the queen and her nobles made it easier for Abeni to draw others to the Weaver’s cause. She sensed the growing resentment of the loyal Qirsi. Olesya and Diani may have believed that they were guarding themselves from further treachery by keeping the ministers from their discussions, but in fact they were making it more likely that others would turn against them.

At the same time they were also allowing Abeni to win the ministers’ trust. During the past turn, she had begun to convene discussions of her own. She claimed that these audiences, like those of the queen, were intended to find some way to combat the movement. “If we can help our lords and ladies,” she told the others at their first gathering, “perhaps we can prove to them that we deserve their faith.”

In fact, she hoped to determine which ministers were most angered by the way they had been treated, and to begin forging deeper friendships with these few. And she wished to remind all of them as frequently as possible that she was no better off than they were, that she had been shut out by the queen, just as they had been by their lords and ladies. She was one of them, a victim of Eandi suspicion and prejudice. Perhaps, when the time came for the Weaver to reveal himself and for his followers to strike at the courts, she would be able to deliver to him not one or two ministers but many.

She also knew, however, that she could not allow her ties to Olesya to become too tenuous. To that end, every few days, she requested and was granted an audience with the queen. On this day, Olesya did not see her until after the ringing of the prior’s bell, as the sun began its descent toward the western horizon, its golden light reflected in the still waters of Lake Yserne.

“Good day, Your Highness,” the archminster said, stepping past the guards into the queen’s presence chamber and bowing before the throne.

“Archminister.”

“I trust you’re well?”

“Yes, quite.” As an afterthought, the queen added, “And you?”

Olesya seemed particularly distant this day. Abeni wondered if something more had happened, if perhaps word had come from one of the other realms of another betrayal.

“I wish I could say that I was well, Your Highness.”

The queen glanced at her, her expression unreadable. “Does something ail you?”

“Of course. The same thing that ails all the ministers in your castle. I’m concerned, not only for myself and for the other Qirsi but for you and the nobles as well. The Qirsi in this realm seek only to serve the courts, and you must know that you’re stronger for the counsel we offer. This rift between us must end.”

“I agree, Archminister. But until I know who among you can be trusted and who among you can’t, I fear that your service to the courts is more dangerous than it is valuable.” There was something strange in the queen’s manner. It almost seemed that she knew of Abeni’s ties to the movement.

“But perhaps we can help you in that regard, Your Highness,” she said, searching the queen’s face.

Olesya smiled, though the expression in her dark eyes didn’t change. “Can you see into the hearts of others, Abeni? Is that one of the powers you wield?”

“No, Your Highness. I think you know it’s not.”

“Then how can you possibly help me? How can you even ask me to let you try, when you can’t prove beyond doubt your own fealty to House Yserne.”

“Haven’t I served you well for all these years, Your Highness? Isn’t that proof enough?”

“Yes, you have, and no, it’s not.” Olesya hesitated, as if considering something. But then the thought seemed to pass and she said, “After Kreazur, I don’t know if I can ever trust a Qirsi again.”

Even Abeni could see the irony. She had killed the man and made him seem a traitor to conceal her own treachery, and yet by doing so, she had made herself suspect in the queen’s eyes. Somewhere in the Underrealm, the first minister was laughing at her.

They held each other’s gaze for several moments, Olesya’s face grim but composed. At last, Abeni looked away, wondering what she would tell the Weaver if he came to her that night.

“It seems there’s nothing more to say.”

“No, I don’t suppose there is.” The queen continued to watch her, as if she expected the minister to attack her at any moment. Something definitely was wrong.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Abeni bowed, then stepped to the door.

“If you were to help me,” the queen said, forcing her to turn once more, “what would you do?”

“Your Highness?”

“Just now you offered to help us determine which Qirsi are loyal and which are not. Is there a way to do that?”

She briefly considered lying, telling the queen that there was. But she knew that eventually Olesya would learn the truth, and when she did, Abeni’s life would be forfeit.

“None that I know of, Your Highness. At least none short of torture. That’s what makes this movement so. . insidious.”

Olesya nodded. “I thought as much. Thank you, Archminister.”

Abeni bowed a second time and left the queen’s, chamber, making her way back to her own. Was it possible that Olesya knew something? she wondered, winding through the corridors. Kreazur had been dead for more than a turn. Surely if his death had raised the queen’s suspicions, Abeni would have known it long before now. And nothing had happened since that would give Olesya cause to question Abeni’s loyalty in particular. Yet, there could be no mistaking the change in the queen’s manner.

The archminister was so preoccupied with her thoughts of the queen that she was nearly to her chamber before she noticed that someone was there in the corridor, leaning against the stone wall beside her door. Craeffe, Macharzo’s first minister.

Abeni glanced behind her, fearing that there might be guards nearby. There were none. Still, she was hardly in the mood to speak with anyone right now, even another member of the movement.

“Archminister,” the woman said, straightening as Abeni approached and sketching a quick bow. “I assumed you were meeting with the queen.” She pitched her voice to carry, in case there were others nearby. “I was hoping that you had managed to convince her that she and the nobles had been wrong to doubt us.”

“Not yet,” Abeni said.

“May I have a word with you, Archminister? In private.”

Abeni took a breath, scanning the corridor a second time. “Briefly,” she said at last.