“Like what?”
The duke shrugged. “Thieves. The wood’s crawling with them.”
“Not this time of year,” Ansis said. “And whoever did this left Chago’s jeweled dagger and sword untouched. I saw Silbron wearing both of them at the funeral.”
“Maybe another duke, then,” Brail said, “someone who wanted Chago dead for some reason, but wanted the king blamed for it.”
Bertin shook his head. “Only the duke of a major house would have much to gain from such a act. Rowan of Mertesse is as loyal to the Solkarans as his father, and even if he wasn’t, he’s not clever enough to try this.” He looked first at Brail, then at Tebeo, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That leaves the two of you, and I’ve seen no evidence suggesting that you’re clever enough, either.”
All of them laughed, though Ansis quickly grew serious again.
“The truth is,” he said, “there are no other explanations, are there? Either Carden had this done, or the Qirsi. Those are the only possibilities.”
Tebeo said nothing. Brail kept his silence as well, drinking what was left of his wine and watching the others.
“The king did this, boy,” Bertin said quietly. “I don’t like it any more than you do. But that’s just the nature of the man. He doesn’t like rebels and he liked Chago least of all. The poor old fool just pushed him too far this time.”
Ansis turned to Dantrielle. “Tebeo?”
“Carden hated him enough to do this, and he wouldn’t hesitate to have any of us killed if he thought we were threatening his sovereignty.” He started to say more, then stopped himself. “He certainly didn’t look aggrieved at the funeral,” he went on a few moments later.
Bertin sneered. “Of course he didn’t. The bastard got just what he wanted.”
Ansis sat back in his chair and drank some wine. “He did look awfully pleased. I guess I’m not certain which bothers me more, the idea that our king could do this, or the possibility that Chago was the victim of some white-hair conspiracy.”
Brail had been thinking much the same thing and he almost said so. But the matter seemed to have run its course, and he saw no sense in rekindling the discussion, at least not just then.
Bells rang in the city, and Ansis sat forward again.
“Is that the gate close, or is it midnight already?”
“That’s only the gates,” Brail said.
The young man grinned. “Good.” He stood and stretched his legs. “Still, I’ve a long ride awaiting me in the morning. I should sleep.”
Brail rose as well. “Of course, Ansis. One of the guards will see you back to your chamber.” He stepped forward and kissed the duke lightly on each cheek. “I’m glad you came. I hope next time it’s under kinder circumstances, but I’m glad just the same.”
“As am I,” Ansis said. “You’ll thank Pazice for me?”
“You can thank her yourself in the morning. We’ll accompany you to the city gates.”
“I’d like that.”
“Wait a moment, boy,” Bertin called, as Ansis stepped to the door. “I’ll walk with you. I’ve got a journey ahead of me as well.” He nodded to Brail. “Always a pleasure, Orvinti. Good food, good wine, and I always enjoy seeing the hills and lake, even this late in the year.”
“You’re welcome any time, Bertin. You know that.”
Noltierre give a quick smile. “ ‘Til the morning then.”
Brail closed the door and looked at Tebeo.
“Are you going as well?”
Tebeo shook his head. “I’ve a shorter ride than they do.”
Brail nodded, knowing that wasn’t the real reason his friend chose to stay. Dantrielle may have been closer than Kett or Noltierre, but it was still more than thirty leagues from Orvinti. It would be several days before the duke reached his own realm. Brail didn’t say this, of course. He merely had the servants bring another flask of wine before dismissing them for the night.
Even after they were alone, the two dukes merely sat for some time, sipping their wine and watching the fire, which had burned low. Wind lashed the shutters again and Brail knelt by the hearth to place another log on the glowing embers.
“Our young friend may have a point,” Tebeo said as the duke lowered himself back into his chair. “It may be that one of us needs to speak with the king.”
Brail grinned. “One of us?” It would have to be him, and they both knew it. In the eyes of the king, Tebeo had been too closely allied with Chago. By siding first with one and then the other, Brail had managed to keep House Orvinti from becoming entangled in the dispute between Solkara and Bistari.
“All right,” Tebeo said, smiling as well. “You should speak with him.”
“To what end? You don’t expect me to ask him if he had Chago killed.”
Tebeo shrugged, the smile lingering on his round face. “Why not? As Bertin said, the murderer did everything but write ‘The king did this’ on Chago’s neck. If it was Carden’s work, he meant for us to know it.”
“And if it wasn’t Carden’s work?”
Dantrielle’s smile vanished. “Then we have a problem.”
“The Qirsi.”
“This is not just idle talk, Brail. The conspiracy is real. I’m certain of it.”
“What have you heard?” Brail asked, not really wanting to know.
“Rumors mostly. Speculation. But I’ve heard similar tales from so many quarters that I can’t dismiss them anymore. In the past few years, Eandi nobles have been murdered in nearly every kingdom in the Forelands.”
Brail forced a grin. “That’s hardly unheard of, Tebeo. As Bertin said, the Eibitharians don’t need any help butchering themselves. Unfortunately, that goes for the rest of us as well. Court assassinations are as old as the throne itself.”
Tebeo shook his head. “These are different; at least some of them are. Take the incident in Jetaya early last year.”
“Jetaya? You mean Hanan? He was poisoned by men from Rouvin. The two houses have been rivals for centuries.”
“He was killed with sleeping camas-seems his food was laced with it.”
“So?”
“Camas works slowly, and its symptoms are subtle compared to most. In most cases, the victim is in a death sleep before those around him suspect anything.”
Brail raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea you were so well versed in the ways of poison. I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m asked to a feast in Dantrielle.”
“This is no joke, Brail.”
He opened his hands. “I’m sorry, Teb. I guess I don’t see your point.”
“My point is this: Hanan was killed with a poison that must be used in large doses. It’s rare and costly, works slowly, and is difficult to spot. Whoever killed him went to a great deal of effort and did so with some skill. Yet within a day of his death, guards in Jetaya found a vial that had held sleeping camas and were able to determine beyond question that it came from Rouvin. Doesn’t that seem a bit strange?”
Brail had to admit that it did. “But that’s only one-”
“Cyro of Yserne was garroted, just like Chago. And just like Chago, he had recently challenged the authority of the royal house.”
“All that proves is that the queen of Sanbira is no more tolerant of dissenters than our own king.”
Tebeo eyed him briefly before looking away and raising his goblet to his lips. Again they sat in silence for a time.
“Earlier this evening you were agreeing with me,” the duke finally said, his voice so low that Brail almost couldn’t hear him for the wind and the snapping of the flames. “What happened?”
Brail wasn’t certain how to answer. The truth was, he did agree with much of what Tebeo had said this night. He was neither blind nor a fool. Nobles in the Forelands were dying in strange, terrible ways, and in numbers that chilled his blood. But talk of this conspiracy disturbed him even more. Qirsi ministers lived in every castle and served every noble in the Forelands, from the lowliest baron of Wethyrn to the emperor of Braedon.