Nitara frowned. “Dusaan instructed you to speak with him?”
“This time I did it on my own. But I’ll speak with him again soon, on the movement’s behalf.”
“Why did Uriad look so angry with you?”
Sun from the narrow window lit her white hair, making it glow like Panya, the pale moon. Kayiv had to remind himself that this woman was no longer his lover, but rather a servant of the Weaver. In many ways she was the most dangerous person in the emperor’s palace, at least as far as he was concerned.
“He’s angry with all of Harel’s Qirsi,” he answered, looking at anything but her. “He believes we’re responsible for the emperor’s decision to rush the invasion.” Their eyes met for just an instant, before Kayiv looked away again. “I guess Dusaan saw to that, didn’t he?”
“He had his reasons,” she said abruptly, sounding defensive.
Kayiv wished he’d kept the thought to himself; this wasn’t an argument he wanted to have just now. “I’m sure he did. I was just trying to explain why Uriad looked angry.”
“I should go.”
“All right.”
Nitara walked to the door, pulling it open quickly. She paused on the threshold, though she didn’t turn to look at him again. “He’ll be watching you. You know that. And I will be, too. He. . he expects it of me.”
“I understand.”
She nodded, then left him, closing the door behind her.
By now he should have been used to this aching in his chest; he’d felt it every day since their romance ended, and that had been a long time ago. Or so it seemed. Maybe this was just something to which a person couldn’t grow accustomed.
They would be watching, and that would make what he needed to do next even more difficult, though not much. He had known from the start that enlisting Uriad’s aid would be the least of his worries. Now he needed to turn Stavel to his purposes, and with him as many of the other Qirsi as possible.
A voice in his mind screamed for him to stop, to forget this madness and simply follow Dusaan to whatever future his movement managed to create. He owed nothing to the emperor or his people. Even if Dusaan turned out to be a tyrant-and with each day that passed Kayiv grew ever more convinced that he would-he would be a Qirsi tyrant. And wouldn’t that be preferable to what Braedon had now?
As if in answer, Kayiv saw once more in his mind the way Nitara’s face flushed at the mere mention on the high chancellor. He wanted to believe that he acted out of more than jealousy and the pain of losing her. But all of it seemed tied together now in some great, impenetrable knot: his broken love, his hatred of Dusaan, his hunger for revenge, his fear of what the high chancellor might do to the Forelands if given the chance, his desperate need to make Nitara love him again. He couldn’t explain anymore what he was doing, or what end he hoped to achieve. He merely knew that he had to act.
Which meant that he had to approach Stavel.
Chapter Six
By the time Kayiv awoke the following morning, much of his resolve from the night before had vanished, leaving doubts that threatened to undo all that he had accomplished the previous day. The minister forced himself out of bed and was soon walking across the palace courtyard toward Uriad and his men, intending to speak with the master of arms again. Dusaan had given him permission to build on their growing rapport, and Kayiv was determined to take advantage of the opportunity given to him by the high chancellor.
Upon seeing him, however, Uriad furrowed his brow, striding in Kayiv’s direction, so that they met far enough from the training men to ensure that none could hear them.
“You’ve already spoken with the other ministers and chancellors?” the armsmaster said.
“Well. . well, no. But I-”
“Then what’s happened?”
“Nothing, armsmaster. I merely thought that. . after yesterday. .”
“We’re not friends, Minister. You asked for my help, and I’ve given you my word that when the time comes, I’ll be there beside you. But I have to assume that the invasion is going to begin when the emperor says it will. I have men to train, and I certainly don’t have time to chat idly with you.”
“Of course. I was-”
“Good day, Minister.”
Before Kayiv could say anything more, Uriad had turned away from him and was making his way back to the soldiers. He was certain that Nitara was watching-he could feel her gaze as if it were sunlight on a stifling day. No doubt she was laughing at him, shaking her head at his folly. Any alarm the high chancellor had felt the day before learning of Kayiv’s conversation with the master of arms would be gone soon enough. After standing there alone for several moments, feeling like an idiot, Kayiv returned to his chamber and awaited the midmorning bells. He would attend the daily audience with Dusaan, and then he would contrive to speak with Stavel.
When at last the bells rang, he hurried through the corridors to the high chancellor’s chambers, wondering if Nitara had already told Dusaan about what happened in the courtyard. But when he reached the ministerial chamber, there was only one other minister there, and it wasn’t her. Dusaan nodded to him as he entered, but kept silent as others filed into the chamber. When Nitara arrived, she chose a seat that placed as much distance as possible between herself and Kayiv, just as he had done the day before. Kayiv saw Dusaan staring at her as she sat, but he couldn’t tell what passed between them.
This day’s discussion proved far briefer than most, with Dusaan dismissing them well before the midday bells. Kayiv followed the others out of the chamber, and almost called to Stavel then. But realizing that Nitara was nearby, he said nothing.
Abruptly he found himself wondering if there were others among the Qirsi who might be watching him as well. Surely it was possible that Dusaan had enlisted others in his cause during the past turn. Better to wait and follow the old chancellor until Stavel was back at his chamber. Instead, though, the old man descended one of the tower stairways to the palace courtyard, and then left the palace entirely, making his way toward Curtell City. Kayiv couldn’t have asked for more. Even if Nitara trailed behind him, she’d never get close enough to hear what they said, not without revealing herself.
Kayiv followed the chancellor at a safe enough distance that he was able to make their encounter in the city’s marketplace seem nothing more than a chance meeting. He wandered past the peddler’s cart at which Stavel had stopped to examine some wooden toys, pretending to be surprised to find the man there. With the moment at hand, with his plans about to be given life, Kayiv felt fear claw at his chest and he nearly walked on past. Certainly it seemed from the way the chancellor regarded him that Stavel wished he would.
But he drew upon what little courage he possessed and offered a hearty “Good day, Chancellor,” stopping beside him to look over the peddler’s wares. “I didn’t know that you had children.”
“I don’t,” Stavel said, clearly uncomfortable. “I just came to the marketplace to. . to walk. I’ve always enjoyed looking at such trifles.”
“I can see why,” Kayiv said. He glanced at the vendor. “You do fine work.”
“Actually,” the man said, his voice thickly accented with the brogue of lower Wethyrn, “I merely sell them. They were carved by craftsmen in the south, Caerisse I believe. They’re made from Trescarri oak, a very difficult wood to work. Only four qinde apiece.”
“I see.”
Stavel started to move on, nodding once to the peddler. Kayiv followed.
“Do you come down here often, Chancellor?”
“Only when my duties to the emperor allow.” Stavel didn’t look at the minister, and his tone carried little warmth. “You?” he asked, seemingly as an afterthought.
“Not nearly as often as I would like.”
They walked a short distance in silence before Stavel paused briefly to look at some silver work, mostly women’s jewelry, although there were some blades on the cart as well. Kayiv found himself eyeing a necklace that only a turn or two before he might have considered buying for Nitara. Looking up, the minister realized that Stavel had left him, and he hurried to catch up.