“Indeed, my lord,” Runcer said, carefully neutral on the subject.
“You can go to bed now. Alec and I are in for the night.”
“Very good, my lord.”
They found Kepi curled up asleep by the banked hearth. Seregil shook him gently by the shoulder and nearly got himself knifed for his trouble as Kepi woke expecting who knew what.
He blinked, apparently surprised to find Seregil gripping his wrist. “Sorry, m’lord. You startled me.”
“My mistake. I assume you have some news for us?”
“I do, if you ain’t already heard it. That Kyrin fellow you had me and me friends watchin’? He’s dead.”
“What killed him?”
“Don’t know, but he’s dead, all right. I seen through a
window him all laid out with coins on his eyes, and women cryin’ over him.”
“Any sign of drysians?” asked Alec.
“Not that I seen and I watched fer a while, figurin’ you’d want to know.”
Seregil paid the boy and sent him off to keep watch through the night.
“Kyrin?” Alec exclaimed as they climbed the stairs.
“If Laneus was murdered, perhaps this is a reprisal. But what in the name of Bilairy is killing them? Not one of them has eaten at the other side’s table before they died. If it is poison, then they’re hiring professionals. I think we should go out, Alec, and do a little gossip collecting.”
Gossip spread quickly and it was soon common knowledge that Kyrin had been found dead in an arbor in his own garden, without a mark on him, or any clear sign of poison or magic, according to the high-ranking drysian who’d been called in. Apparently he’d just dropped dead like the others.
“Kylith, Laneus, Tolin, Alarhichia, and now Kyrin?” muttered Seregil as they rode home. “All cabal members, except Kylith, and Kyrin seemed to suspect her. And no sign of what killed any of them.”
“You really don’t think it was just age with Laneus and Kylith, at least? And Kyrin wasn’t young, either.”
“Too many deaths in one small circle in such quick succession, Alec, and not their wives, husbands, children, and so forth. It stinks of treachery.”
They spent the rest of that day making the rounds of what was left of Kyrin’s circle, offering condolences and subtly probing for more information. There were thinly veiled references to poison and enemies, but nothing definite, even from Reltheus, though he was clearly shaken.
CHAPTER 35. From Bad to Worse
THINGS did not improve when two days later Kepi appeared with more bad news.
“Duchess Nerian’s dead,” Kepi said, perched on the rain butt outside the kitchen door, eating his latest free meal. “She was a friend of Duke Laneus, right? I seen her at his house plenty a’ times.”
“Dead how?” Seregil demanded.
“Way I heard it from one of the other boys, she was found in her garden this mornin’ strangled.”
Seregil paid him and sent him on his way. “Well, that certainly sounds like a reprisal, doesn’t it?”
An hour later Kepi was back with news that Earl Kormarin, a known friend of Malthus’s, was found bloated and floating in the inner harbor at the end of Crab Quay with a knife wound between his shoulder blades. According to Seregil’s assassin friend, Nerian and Kormarin were both commissioned killings: Nerian by Reltheus, and Kormarin by Malthus.
“The two cabals have declared war on each other,” said Alec when Seregil came home with the news.
“And saved Korathan the trouble of arresting all of them.”
The following day word came that one of Princess Aralain’s ladies-in-waiting had simply dropped dead in the act of pouring her mistress a dish of tea, and one of Duke Reltheus’s pages had been found dead in a garderobe. The Noble Quarter was in a panic.
“What in Bilairy’s name is going on?” Alec exclaimed as they sat in the library, trying to make sense of it all.
Seregil took out pen and parchment and began to write names and draw lines between them. “Laneus, a Klia supporter; Tolin, an Elani supporter; Alarhichia, on Tolin’s side; Kyrin; now Kormarin, perhaps a conspirator we missed. Now Nerian, also a Klia supporter.”
“But why the lady-in-waiting and the boy?”
Seregil gazed out the window at the street below, where a cart laden with household goods and luggage was rattling by. “Accidents, perhaps? They somehow got the poison intended for their master or mistress?”
“I doubt they’re doing their own killing, don’t you?”
“Yes. So I think I’ll go have a talk with my friend in Knife Street.”
Seregil disappeared in search of his informer in the assassins’ guild, and returned in a few hours, looking unhappy.
“As far as my friend knows, only Kormarin’s killing, Tolin’s, and Nerian’s were commissioned with the guild,” he told Alec as they sat in the garden. “He knew nothing of any other murders by the guild, though they’re certainly adept at poisoning.”
“Could your informer be lying?”
“He hasn’t in the past. The Cat is very generous.”
“My lords?” Runcer called to them from the dining room door. “There is a summons from Prince Korathan. He wishes to speak with you at once.”
Seregil and Alec exchanged an apprehensive glance, then went to dress for court.
It was not a long ride from Wheel Street to the Palace, but by the time they’d reached Silvermoon they’d already seen five costly carriages rattling away toward the Harvest Market with baggage lashed on behind.
Near Ruby Street they encountered a mob of the poor, once again protesting the quarantine and shortages of food.
As Seregil turned his horse to try to ride through the
crowd, he caught sight of Atre down the street, mounted on a glossy bay. The actor waved and rode over to join them.
“Have you come to see the commotion, too, my lords?” he asked.
“No, we have other business,” said Alec.
“There was talk of it at the theater last night. Such a tragedy, this strange plague! But I was actually on my way to see you.”
“A bit of news?” asked Seregil.
“Yes, my lord.” Leaning over in the saddle, he spoke softly in Seregil’s ear. “Earl Kormarin. I saw him at a dinner with Duke Reltheus the day before he was killed. And now he turns up dead!”
“Yes, I know about that.”
“Ah, but I know a bit of what the conversation was. I overheard Duke Reltheus telling Kormarin that all was in place for the queen’s return, my lord.”
“All what?”
“That I don’t know, my lord.”
“Thank you. Are you dining with anyone else interesting tonight?”
“Not tonight, my lord. The theater is dark and I’m going to enjoy a much-needed rest.”
Seregil looked the man over. “You hide it well, my friend. You look fresh as a spring morning.”
Atre laughed, flashing white teeth. “Kind of you to say, my lord. Good day to you!”
They arrived in Korathan’s sitting room to find Thero already there, and looking none too happy. Korathan was still in his robes, but the velvet hat was perched on the head of a nearby statue. Under different circumstances, Seregil might have found that amusing.
“What in Bilairy’s name is going on?” the prince demanded. “My nobles are dying or being murdered and those who are still alive are fleeing! Now this!” He snatched a scroll from the desk and brandished it at the three of them. It still bore the blue ribbon and seal of a royal herald. “Protector General Sarien is dead!”
“Murdered?” asked Alec.
“I don’t know-yet. After reviewing the defenses at Yantis, he dined with the mayor and his family, went to bed, and never woke up. Not a mark on him, just like Laneus and the others. I have had the mayor, his family, and all the servants jailed until the drysians there determine if it was poison.” Korathan leveled a finger at them all. “I have given you time, and you’ve brought me nothing. And people continue to die. Are they all associated with these cabals?”