Berayma sighed heavily. “Yes, Chancellor. It must be tonight.”
“But surely it could wait until—”
“Now!” Berayma shouted, and Harnan disappeared. Berayma groaned. “Orkid, I’m sorry. I should not have raised my voice like that.”
“Do not trouble yourself about it, your Majesty,” Orkid said stiffly. “I understand perfectly. It has been a long and trying day for you.”
“Thank you for your patience,” the king said sincerely. “I do not think there are any other matters to trouble you tonight. You may go.”
“There is one small issue, your Majesty,” Orkid said carefully. “Concerning your own recent embassy to Hume.”
“Really?” Berayma was puzzled.
“I have received a message from one of my agents there. I think you should read it.”
“Very well. We have some time before Lynan arrives.”
“We should be alone,” Orkid added.
Berayma nodded to Dejanus. “Leave us please. If you see the constable, tell him to wait until after I have spoken to Lynan.”
Dejanus left, and Orkid placed a long sheet of paper in front of the king.
The recruits had finished putting away all the training weapons. Ager was checking the cabinets when he noticed Lynan’s knife was missing. He called one of the recruits over. “All the weapons have been found?”
“All that were on the grounds, Captain.”
Ager pointed out the missing spot in the cabinet. “Do another search. I want the knife found.”
The recruit gulped and called back his mates. For another half hour they scoured the training arena and fencing shed, but found no trace of the missing knife. They reported glum-faced to Ager.
“All right. Nothing more can be done here tonight. We’ll do another search tomorrow in better light. In the meantime I’d better report this to the constable.”
The recruits went pale, and Ager dismissed them before one of them passed out.
He went to the Long Walk and asked one of the two guards on duty if Kumul was still with the king.
“No, Captain. He did not see the king. He was on his way here when Dejanus called him away.”
“Where did they go?”
“I did not hear, sir. But you can ask Dejanus yourself. He is in with the king now, and should be out soon.”
Ager shook his head. “No. It’s not important. I’ll try the constable’s rooms.” He turned on his heel and left.
“If it’s not so damned important, why did he bother me about it?” the guard asked his fellow when Ager was out of earshot. The two men laughed quietly. “Officers and whores,” the guard went on, “always asking for something.”
“Soldier!”
The guards snapped to attention. Dejanus appeared in front of them, his blue eyes wide with anger.
“What was that about officers?”
“Officers, sir?” The guard tried playing dumb; as often as not, it got you out of trouble.
“Come with me,” Dejanus ordered, then turned to the other guard. “And I’ll deal with you later.”
Dejanus waved the first guard into what had been the queen’s sitting room and closed the doors behind them. The guard had a sinking feeling that playing dumb was not going to get him out of trouble this time. He was afraid to turn and face the Life Guard.
“Look at me, soldier, and come to attention!” Dejanus ordered.
The guard snapped erect and wheeled about on his right foot. Before he finished his salute, Dejanus drove the knife he had been hiding up his sleeve deep into the guard’s midriff, between the iron slats of his armor, forcing out of him a gush of air and his last breath. Dejanus caught him as he fell and eased him gently to the floor.
“And two to go,” he said to himself.
Harnan Beresard had not found Lynan in his chamber, and so had gone to Pirem’s room instead. He banged on the servant’s door until Pirem appeared, rubbing his eyes and wearing nothing but a scowl.
“What the—!” Pirem blinked when he saw who it was. “Oh, forgive me, sir, I thought—”
“I am sorry to wake you, Pirem. But the king needs to see Lynan immediately. He is not in his room. Can you tell me where I might find him?”
Pirem shook his head. “He sometimes wanders around the palace if he can’t sleep. But I’ll find him. I know his favorite places.”
Harnan nodded. “Very well, but see that his Highness sees the king tonight, or we’ll both be in trouble.”
Pirem disappeared back into his room and quickly dressed. He rushed to Lynan’s room and, using the spare key he always carried, let himself in. He found Lynan’s good coat and his father’s sword and belt. He paused for a moment to consider what else the prince might need, then slapped his forehead. “Oh, hurry, you old fool,” he told himself. “The king’s not goin‘ to care what the lad looks like at this time of night.”
He started his search in the gardens, then the south gallery, then along the palace walls, but without success. There was one place left, and that was a long walk followed by a long climb. But the king wanted to see him now! Berayma’s chambers were on the way, and Pirem decided to let him know Lynan would be with him soon rather than letting His Royal Majesty sit alone, twiddling his thumbs and wondering where his brother had got to.
“Hurry, Pirem, hurry!” he urged himself, and set off at a trot.
“I see nothing so urgent about this report,” Berayma said, handing the paper back to Orkid.
“Forgive me, your Majesty, but I thought the information about Queen Charion’s plans to limit Chandra’s trading rights were not only important but relevant, considering your intentions to send Lynan on an embassy to King Tomar.”
Berayma carefully studied Orkid’s face. The two had never get on, but Berayma had to admit he had made a very good chancellor under Queen Usharna, and had been absolutely loyal to her. He nodded slowly.
“And you were right to present it to me. The fact that I do not agree with your opinion should not deter you in future from presenting me any information you consider important.”
Orkid bowed slightly, accepting the truce, and the implicit compliment. Dejanus returned then and nodded to Orkid.
“Your Majesty, the constable has not shown up?” the Life Guard asked.
Berayma shook his head. “I will give you his instructions. You can pass them on to Kumul when you see him.”
Dejanus nodded and Berayma started to write instructions on a sheet of paper. The Life Guard looked over his shoulder as if to read the instructions as they were written. Then Orkid moved forward. Berayma looked up at the chancellor. “You can go, Orkid. Thank you for your advice tonight.”
“Your Majesty.” Orkid bowed deeply, and then before Berayma could react, the chancellor gripped Berayma’s arms just below the elbows.
“What—!” cried the startled king, and pulled back, raising his head. Dejanus took out his hidden knife and drove it straight into the side of Berayma’s neck.
Berayma lurched back, his arms breaking Orkid’s grip and reaching behind him for his attacker, but at that instant Dejanus pulled out the blade. Blood spurted across Berayma’s desk, spraying Dejanus and Orkid. The king tried to stand, but he started falling. He grabbed at his desk, scattering paper and ink, tried to reach for Orkid but could only grab his coat. As he lost consciousness and collapsed, he took Orkid down with him. He crashed into his chair, hit the floor, and was still.
As the jagged wound in Berayma’s neck pumped blood, Orkid frantically jerked his coat loose from the dying king’s hands and teetered to his feet. The flow of blood abated and finally stopped.
“Lord of the Mountain,” muttered Orkid, his arms out wide, his hands and coat covered in blood. It had all happened quicker than he had thought possible, and was far bloodier and more terrible then he could have imagined.
Dejanus looked down grimly at his handiwork.
“No one saw you deal with the guards outside?”