“In my own time,” she said softly. “For my own reasons.”
For a breath or two she didn’t think he would relent, but then he laughed. “I will have to kill you one day,” he said. “But for now, I love you. Go now; invent delightful things for Lord Rhel. I will see you tomorrow.”
In the corridor, her knees wobbled.
“Xhuth!” she swore.
She hated Toel, hated him, now more than ever. And yet her body didn’t care about that at all. It was disgusting.
Later, in her rooms, she drew out her locket. Maybe tonight Attrebus would answer, finally.
But did she want him to? What would she tell him? How could she explain what she had done to Slyr? Or talk about what had happened with Toel?
She couldn’t. And so she closed the locket and sought sleep, turning so she could not see Slyr’s empty bed.
EIGHT
Colin woke sometime after midnight. At first he thought he was alone, but then he noticed Arese standing at the window. She reminded him of one of the white poplars that grew along streams in the hills outside of Anvil.
She heard him approaching and glanced over her shoulder, but her features were shadowed by the moonlight behind her.
“I shouldn’t still be here,” she said.
“Right,” he replied. “Why are you?”
She shrugged. “I guess I thought we weren’t through.”
She must have seen the expression on his face, because she laughed. “No, I think we’re done with that for the night,” she said. “I mean-you came here for something, right? To tell me something?”
“Yes,” he said, surprised at how unimportant it seemed at the moment. But he explained it anyway-about what Hierem did in Black Marsh.
“That only seems to confirm what we already thought,” she said.
“It’s something,” Colin replied. “The journal is proof, isn’t it?”
“It is proof,” she said. “Just not very good proof.”
“How good does it have to be? The Emperor was suspicious enough to plant you in Hierem’s ministry. Shouldn’t this be enough to convince him?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you know about Hierem?”
“Not much,” Colin admitted.
“He’s been around forever. He had a position in the old Empire-he was an ambassador to Morrowind. He was a minister to Thules the Gibbering, the witch-warrior who ruled what little remained of the Empire before Titus Mede took it from him.”
“I remember. Not a well-liked ruler.”
“Maybe not beloved, but he was Nibenese, and despite his various perversions, many on the council favored him over a Colovian usurper. Hierem is from an old Nibenese family, with a lot of connections. He smoothed over the conquest, helped convince the council to accept Mede as a liberator rather than a conqueror. He’s also extremely influential with the Synod. He’s the second most powerful man in the Empire, despite his servile public appearance, and if Mede were to move against him without an unimpeachable reason, it could lead to civil war.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Only because you don’t know Hierem. I feel certain that Mede would win any such conflict, but it would be costly.”
“What then?”
She turned back to the window. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ll work something out.”
“Your life is in danger,” he said. “Go to the Emperor, tell him what you know. Get out.”
“It’s not enough,” she said. “And any cover I might have left-”
“Surely you have some means of communicating with him. Secret means.”
“There is a secret word,” she said. “If it reaches the Emperor’s ear, he will know to go to a certain place. But if I do that, he may do exactly as you say.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“Yes, because we fail to stop Hierem. After ten years-I have to have something.”
“Then let me go,” Colin said. “I’ll speak for you. I’ll explain it all.”
He didn’t hold his breath, but he felt like it.
She saw right through it.
“You don’t believe me,” she said. “You think I’m lying about working for him.”
“I want to believe you,” he said.
She looked back out the window and chewed her lower lip.
“Jasper,” she said. “The word is Jasper.”
The second time Colin met the Emperor it was in a narrow, unfurnished room. He’d been brought there bound and blindfolded, and he didn’t see a door. The stone was the same color as the interior of the White-Gold Tower, but beyond that he had no clues at all as to where he was.
This wasn’t court, and the Emperor wasn’t dressed for it. He wore a plain Colovian soldier’s tunic of dark gray wool and leather breeks. His crown was a plain gold circlet. A broadsword in a battered scabbard hung at his side. Two soldiers stood yards away, but Colin suspected that if he tried anything, he would be dead at Mede’s hand before either of them could move.
“I know you,” the Emperor said. “You’re the young man who told me my Attrebus wasn’t killed when his men were massacred.”
“Yes, sire,” Colin replied.
“You’re an inspector in the Penitus Oculatus.”
“Yes, sire.”
“And yet you’ve come to me over all of your superiors, using a password and sign that only I and one other know.”
“Knew, sire. I know it now, as does the man who brought it to you. It’s as few as I could manage to involve, but more than I would have liked.”
Titus Mede conceded that with a nod. Then he signed for the guards to leave, and Colin was alone with the most powerful man in the world.
“Who sent you?” the Emperor asked.
“Letine Arese, majesty,” Colin said.
“Why didn’t she come herself?”
“Two members of the Dark Brotherhood tried to kill her a few nights ago. She’s afraid that if she came to you herself, she would be followed. She’s in hiding.”
“Who sent the assassins?”
“I wasn’t able to discover that, sire. Both men are dead, and I cannot find any trace of their shades-it’s rumored the brotherhood has ways of ensuring their members don’t leave behind talkative ghosts. Not surprisingly, they had no material evidence to connect them to anyone either.”
“But surely Arese has suspicions about who might try to murder her.”
“She suspects your minister, Hierem, majesty.”
The Emperor nodded. “Of course. How are you mixed up in this, inspector?”
“Arese asked for my help,” he replied. “In finding proof to implicate Hierem in the massacre-in the attempted murder of your son.”
“That’s funny,” the Emperor said. “Hierem has supplied me with some evidence that Arese was behind that herself.”
“She arranged the attack,” Colin said, “but the order came from higher.”
“From Hierem?”
“She believes so.”
“Believes so?” Mede paced, hands clasped behind his back. “Ten years she’s been there,” he muttered. “In all of that time, no proof. Nothing I can use against him.”
“Sire, I don’t understand. If you’re suspicious of the minister…”
“It’s not so simple,” the Emperor said. “I can’t risk an internal conflict-especially when we face this-bonewalker army, if it can be called that.”
“Sire, Arese and I believe that’s no accident,” Colin said. “We believe Hierem is somehow involved in this Umbriel business.”
He outlined what they had learned about Hierem’s trip to Black Marsh. When Colin was done, Mede stood still and silent for a long time, his forehead wrinkled.
“You have the journal?”
“Yes, sire.”
He handed the Emperor the book and waited while he read it.
“Why didn’t you go to your superiors with this?” he asked when he was finished.
“I wasn’t sure I could trust them, majesty,” Colin said. “I really don’t know who to trust anymore.”