“I’ll be happy to tell you, my liege. But it might be better to wait until we can speak in private.”
The king eyed him briefly, his mouth twisting sourly.
“Leave us,” he said, turning to Chofya.
“But the fruit and cheese have only just arrived.”
“Take Kalyi and the ministers and go to my private hall. You can finish your meal there.”
The queen looked as if she wanted to argue the point further, but instead she said, “Yes, my lord,” dropping her gaze. Recovering quickly she flashed a thin smile at Fetnalla and the king’s Qirsi. “Won’t you join my daughter and me in the king’s hall?” she asked. “It’s not quite as spacious but the food and wine will taste just as good.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Fetnalla said, rising with the queen.
Pronjed cast a look at Carden, who nodded once. The Qirsi stood and followed Fetnalla, the queen, and the young girl out of the hall. A pair of servants approached the table and began to gather the empty plates, but the king waved a hand disdainfully.
“Leave them,” he commanded. “Leave us.”
The servants hurried from the hall.
“Now,” Carden said, facing Brail once more, torchlight reflected in his dark eyes. “Answer me. Why have you come?”
The duke took a breath. He would have given all the gold in Orvinti’s treasury to be back in his castle just then, enjoying a quiet meal with Pazice.
“I wish to speak with you about Chago,” he said, relieved to hear that his voice remained steady.
“Chago,” the king repeated. A smile stretched across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “What about him?”
“I… I wish to know if you had him killed.”
For a moment Brail thought that the king would rage at him for even raising the matter. But Carden merely gazed at him for several moments, before picking up the crystal dagger and toying with it, the same half smile on his lips.
“You’ve always struck me as a cautious man, Brail, not at all the type to take chances. Coming here unannounced and uninvited, asking me such a question-this all seems much more like something one of your friends would do. Bertin, perhaps. Or maybe Tebeo. Did one of them put you up to this?”
“No, my liege.”
“You’re certain. They didn’t suggest that you come to me, knowing that if one of them asked me the same question, I’d have him executed as a traitor? Think hard about this, Brail. Because I really am curious. Isn’t it possible that they asked you to speak with me, perhaps while all of you were together in Orvinti a few days ago?”
Brail licked his lips, which were suddenly dry as sand. A part of him wondered how the king knew that the others had been with him in his castle, but he didn’t dare ask. It mattered little at this point. The king had implied that his question was tantamount to treason. He’d be fortunate to ride out of Solkara alive. Still, having come this far, he wasn’t about to betray Tebeo, even to save his own life.
“No, my liege. I did speak with the others about Chago’s death. We had just come from his funeral, and were-” He stopped himself, uncertain as to how to finish the thought. He had taken great pains to keep himself apart from Solkara’s feud with Bistari. He risked offending the king if he admitted that he and the others were grieving for a lost friend, particularly if Carden had ordered the assassination.
“It’s all right, Brail. You and your friends were mourning his loss. I expected as much.”
The duke exhaled. “Thank you, my liege. Whatever Chago’s faults, we had all known him a long time.”
“And you think I had him killed,” the king went on, testing the edge of the dagger with his thumb. “Why?”
Brail faltered. “The garroting, my liege. And the Solkaran crest found in his hand.”
The king looked at Brail as if the duke were a fool. “I mean why would I have him killed?”
“Your houses have been rivals for centuries, my liege. And you and Chago had more than your share of disagreements, most recently about the wharfages and lightering fees.”
“Do you think I’d kill a man over lightering fees? Is that the kind of king you think I am?”
Brail closed his eyes briefly. If only he had listened to Fetnalla, and given this journey more thought.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that any king must guard against those who would incite opposition to his authority. Chago was angry about the fees, and he may have gone too far in his efforts to fight them.”
The king’s eyes widened. “So you think he deserved to die. Did you come all this way to congratulate me on his murder?”
“Of course not, my liege.”
“Well, Brail, I’m afraid you have me confused. First you imply that I’m a murderer, and then you seem to suggest that I was foolish to let the man live as long as I did. Which is it?”
The duke hesitated again, feeling like a prentice doing battle with a master swordsman. “Neither,” he finally said. He took a breath. “Perhaps I should leave, my liege. I’ve offended you, which was not at all my intent. Unless Your Majesty wishes to imprison me, I should best be starting back to Orvinti tonight. After what I’ve said, I don’t deserve your hospitality.”
“What was your intent, Brail?”
There was little use in trying to be circumspect any longer. Best just to say it and be done, no matter the consequences.
“To find the truth, my liege. We-” He winced. “I feared that perhaps a darker force was at work here. There’s been talk of a Qirsi conspiracy. I worry that Chago’s murder might divide the kingdom against itself, and I’ve wondered if others were responsible and tried to make his death appear to be the work of House Solkara.”
For the first time that night, Carden looked afraid. It lasted but a moment, like the flickering of a candle in a sudden wind. In that one instant, however, he was no longer the ruthless Solkaran king, but rather a young noble seemingly out of his depth. Brail had his answer.
Carden drained his goblet. A servant hurried toward the table from the doorway, as if intending to refill it, but Carden waved the boy away and poured his own wine, not bothering to offer any to Brail. And though it might have been a trick of the dancing torch fire and the shadows cast by the blaze in the hearth, it seemed that his hand trembled.
“I don’t know if you’re the bravest man I’ve ever met, or the most foolish,” the king said a moment later, taking up the dagger once more. “You must realize that I can’t offer you any answers. I would never admit to anyone that I had one of my dukes killed, even if it was clear to every man and woman in the land that I was responsible. Nor would I ever concede that I had allowed myself to be blamed for the crime of another.”
“Of course, my liege. I understand.”
“You understand, and yet you came here hoping that I would acknowledge doing one or the other.”
“I came hoping that I could glean something from our conversation. I never expected you to admit anything.”
“And what have you gleaned, Lord Orvinti?”
He might have been a fool, as the king said. But his foolishness did not run that deep. “Nothing, my liege. I will return to my castle as confused as I was when I left.”
The king smiled thinly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The fire popped loudly, and the king glanced toward the hearth. “I will tell you,” he continued, “that I share your concerns for the kingdom. For better or worse, Chago’s death has angered my enemies, though it’s forced them to quiet their voices for a time.”
“Have you heard talk of the conspiracy, my liege?”
The king’s mouth twisted. “I have, and it… concerns me as well.”
“So you believe what you’ve heard?”
Carden gave a wan smile. “Do you honestly think that a year ago I would have sent my archminister from the room, even at your request?”