She knows, Medan said to himself. If she does not know which of them is the traitor, yet she knows that one of them is. Good. That will make this easier.
“I will send Kelevandros to fetch him,” Laurana said through pallid lips.
“I do not believe that would be wise,” Medan replied. “I suggest that you ask Planchet to take Kalindas to my headquarters. My second-in-command, Dumat, will look after him. Kalindas will not be harmed, I assure you, Madam, but he must be kept safe, where he cannot communicate with anyone.”
Laurana looked at the Marshal with sorrow. “My lord, I don’t think . . . Is this necessary?”
“It is, Madam,” he said firmly.
“I don’t understand,” Gilthas said, his voice tinged with anger. He rose to his feet. “My mother’s servant is to be thrown in prison! Why? What is his crime?”
Medan was about to answer, but Laurana forestalled him.
“Kalindas is a spy, my son.”
“A spy?” Gilthas was astonished. “For whom?”
“The Dark Knights,” Laurana replied. “He reports directly to Marshal Medan, unless I am much mistaken.”
Gilthas cast the Marshal a look of unutterable disgust.
“I make no apology, Your Majesty,” Medan said calmly. “Nor, do I expect you to make any apology for the spies you have planted in my household.”
Gilthas flushed. “A dirty business,” he muttered.
“Indeed, Your Majesty. This makes an end of it. I, for one, will be glad to wash my hands. Planchet, you will find Kalindas waiting downstairs. Remove him to—”
“No, Planchet,” said Gilthas peremptorily. “Bring him here to me. Kalindas has the right to answer his accusor.”
“Do not do this, Your Majesty,” Medan said earnestly. “Once Kalindas sees me here with you, he will know he has been unmasked. He is a dangerous man, cornered and desperate. He has no care for anyone. He will stop at nothing. I cannot guarantee Your Majesty’s safety.”
“Nevertheless,” said Gilthas steadily, “elven law provides that Kalindas have the chance to defend himself against these charges. For too long, we have lived under your law, Marshal Medan. The law of the tyrant is no law at all. If I am to be king, then I make this my first act.”
“Madam?” Medan turned to Laurana.
“His Majesty is right,” said Laurana. “You have made your accusations, and we have listened. Kalindas must have his turn to tell his story.”
“You will not find it a pretty one. Very well,” Medan said, shrugging.
“But we must be prepared. If I might suggest a plan of action . . .”
“Kelevandros,” Laurana said, shaking the slumbering elf by the shoulder. “Your brother waits downstairs.”
“Kalindas is here?” Kelevandros jumped to his feet.
“The guards refuse to allow him to enter,” Laurana continued. “Go down and tell the guards they have my permission to bring him here.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Kelevandros hastened out the door. Laurana looked back at Medan. Her face was very pale, but she was calm, composed.
“Was that satisfactory?”
“Perfect, Madam,” said Medan. “He was not the least suspicious. Take your seat at the table. Your Majesty, you should return to your work.”
Laurana sighed deeply and sat down at the dining table. Planchet selected the very best fruit for her repast and poured her a glass of wine. Marshal Medan had never admired Laurana’s courage more than now, as he watched her take bites of fruit, chew and swallow, though the food must have tasted like ashes in her mouth. Opening one of the doors that led to the balcony, Medan moved outside, leaving the door ajar, so that he could hear and see what took place in the room without being seen himself.
Kalindas entered at his brother’s heels.
“Madam, I have been frantic with concern for your safety. When that loathsome Marshal took you away, I feared he meant your death!”
“Did you, Kalindas?” Laurana said gently. “I am sorry to have caused you so much concern. As you see, I am safe here. Safe for the time being, at least. We have reports that Beryl’s armies are marching on Qualinesti.”
“Indeed, Madam, I heard that terrible rumor,” said Kalindas, advancing until he stood close to the table at which she sat. “You are not safe here, Madam. You must take flight immediately.”
“Yes, Madam,” said Kelevandros. “My brother has told me that you are in danger. You and the king.”
Gilthas had completed his writing. The parchment in his hand, the king rose from his desk, preparing to leave.
“Planchet,” he said, “bring me my cloak.”
“You are right to act swiftly, Your Majesty,” said Kalindas, mistaking Gilthas’s intent. “Madam, I will take the liberty of fetching your cloak, as well—”
“No, Kalindas,” said Gilthas. “That is not what I meant.”
Planchet returned with the king’s cloak. Holding the garment over his right hand and arm, he moved to stand next to Gilthas.
“I have no intention of fleeing,” Gilthas was saying. “I go now to make a speech to the people. We begin immediately to evacuate the population of Qualinost and make plans for the defense of the city.”
Kalindas bowed to the king. “I understand. Your Majesty will make his speech, and then I will take you and your honored mother to a place of safety. I have friends waiting.”
“I’ll wager you do, Kalindas,” said Marshal Medan, stepping through the door. “Friends of Beryl’s waiting to assassinate both His Majesty and the Queen Mother. Where would these friends of yours happen to be?”
Kalindas’s eyes darted warily from the Marshal to Gilthas and back to the Marshal. The elf licked dry lips. His gaze slid to Laurana. “I don’t know what has been said about me, Madam—”
Gilthas intervened. “I will tell you what has been said, Kalindas. The Marshal has made the accusation that you are a spy in his employ. We have evidence that appears to indicate that this is true. By elven law, you are granted the right to speak in your defense.”
“You don’t believe him, do you, Madam?” Kelevandros cried. Shocked and outraged, he came to stand stolidly beside his brother. “Whatever this human has told you about Kalindas is a lie! The Marshal is a Dark Knight, and he is human!”
“Indeed, I am both those,” said Medan. “I am also the one who paid your brother to spy upon the Queen Mother. I’ll wager that if you search his person, you will find on him a stash of steel coins with the head of Lord Targonne stamped upon them.”
“I knew someone in my household had betrayed me,” Laurana said. Her voice ached with sorrow. “I received a letter from Palin Majere, warning me. That was how the dragon knew to wait for him and for Tasslehoff. The only person who could have warned the dragon was someone in my house. No one else knew.”
“You are mistaken, Madam,” Kelevandros insisted desperately. “The Dark Knights were spying on us. That is how they came to know. Kalindas would never betray you, Madam. Never! He loves you too well.”
“Does he?” Medan asked quietly. “Look at his face.”
Kalindas was livid, his skin whiter than the fine linen of the bed sheets. His lips curled back from his teeth in a sneer. His blue eyes were pale and glittering.
“Yes, I have a bag of steel coins,” he said, spittle flecking his lips.
“Coins paid to me by this human pig who thinks that by betraying me he may win the chance to crawl into your bed. Perhaps he already has. You are known to enjoy rutting with humans. Love you, Madam? This is how much I love you!”
Kalindas’s hand darted inside his tunic. The blade of a dagger flashed in the sunlight.
Gilthas cried out. Medan drew his sword, but he had placed himself to guard the king. Medan was too far across the room to save Laurana. She snatched up a wine glass and flung the contents into Kalindas’s face. Half-blinded by the wine stinging his eyes, he stabbed wildly. The blow aimed for Laurana’s heart struck her shoulder.