“That was Lord Laeth,” the healer’s voice took on an odd tone, “visiting from Sianim?”
Wary of the interest in his voice, Rialla nodded.
The healer raised an eyebrow and reached out unexpectedly to touch her face, muttering a few words under his breath as he did so. He jerked his hand away, as if from something hot, and an intense expression that she couldn’t interpret crossed his face.
“Who would have thought it?” he said obscurely, and smiled. “I thought that Sianim frowned on slavery.”
Rialla felt as if she’d missed half of the conversation, and groped for an answer. “My master told them I was his servant and they pretended to believe him.” It was the explanation that she and Laeth had chosen, but it sounded threadbare to her ears.
He shook his head, but shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose, what your story is. My name is Tris. When you need me, anyone in Tallonwood can tell you where to find me.” With that odd statement he blew out the candle and left the room.
Rialla stared stupidly after him. Healers, she supposed, ought to be a bit eccentric, but this one seemed to push it to an extreme.
Cautiously Rialla opened the door and checked the hall. Seeing no one, she continued up the stairs to the suite of rooms that she shared with Laeth.
It was late when Laeth returned to his rooms. He was pale and seemed shaken by the attempt on his brother’s life.
Without a word, Rialla helped him take off the formal, close-fitting dining jacket. She hung it up and silently offered him a cup of warmed brandy, then perched on a fragile table, ignoring the knickknacks that sat on either side of her, and waited for him to speak.
Just as he opened his mouth, the door shook with a series of impassioned knocks. Rialla slipped back off the table and stood near a wall looking discreet, like a good slave—not that the woman who entered when Laeth opened the door had any interest in Rialla.
“Laeth, you must leave. They think that you were the one who attempted to kill Karsten. They say that you’d have the most to gain from his death.” Marri was very much a Darranian lady. She reminded Rialla of a frantic butterfly: beautiful and useless.
Laeth looked at Marri, and not even Rialla could read his face. He shook his head slowly. “There are many people that stand to gain by Karsten’s death, lady. He is threatening to unite Darran with a country full of abominations. The Eastern miners are worried that he’s going to cede mining territory back to Reth; the slavers are worried because he’s threatening their livelihood. Indeed, unless someone saw you come in here, there is no reason to believe that my motive for killing my brother is stronger than anyone else’s.”
Marri shook her head at him with apparent exasperation, her dark eyes flashing with anger. “Plague it, Laeth. Don’t give me that lordly sneer, it doesn’t suit you. No one saw me come here.”
Laeth bowed his head and said politely, “Accept my apologies, madam. Pray feel free to leave if my sneer offends you.”
Marri closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There were white lines of anger along her aristocratic cheekbones. “Will you listen to me, you mule?” Rialla bit back a smile, and decided that she might like Marri after all.
“Do you think I’d risk coming here if I weren’t certain you were in danger?” continued Marri sharply. “Don’t be any stupider than you must. There is someone here who is deliberately setting you up to be Karsten’s murderer—there is no reason suspicion of you would be that strong otherwise.”
Her voice softened. “Karsten knows that someone is trying to kill him, and we have taken every precaution against his assassination. You are not needed here. He may think that you are here for his birthday, but I know you better. Nothing less than the attempt on his life last month would have induced you to return.”
Laeth raised an eyebrow and sauntered back to his bed, where he sat down and began to tug off his boots. “Every precaution? It didn’t seem to help him much tonight, did it?”
“Neither did you!” she replied hotly. Rialla noticed a hint of moisture in her eyes. “I can’t stand worrying about both of you.”
“Tears, Marri?” asked Laeth in a biting voice.
“Yes, plague take you.” Marri wiped her eyes quickly. “I’m sorry for what happened before, but it wasn’t solely my fault. You left me for a year without any word of how to reach you. My parents were in debt and losing the manor, and your brother proposed marriage to me. I have a younger brother and three younger sisters; do you think I should have let them be reduced to poverty when I could stop it? You hadn’t even made a firm offer to me, let alone my parents. Should I have told them not to accept Karsten’s offer because his brother had flirted with me?”
Midway through her speech Laeth had lost his cold manner. Instead he clenched his fists and stared at the floor. When he spoke, it was in a voice very close to a whisper. “It was more than flirtation, Marri.”
Her anger left her abruptly, and there was only sadness in her face. “I know that, but how could I have explained it to my father? I’m not sure that I believed it all the time myself. When you left, you didn’t tell me where you were going or what you were going to do.”
“You knew that I’d be back.”
“Did I?” she questioned, and then sighed. “I suppose that I did, but you didn’t say so.”
She paced the room, ignoring Rialla’s presence. After a while Marri said, “I really do care for him, you know. The chances that he’ll survive until the princess marries King Myr are not very good. He explained it to me, as if I were a child, and then patted me on the head and said that you’d look after me.” She bowed her head and clenched her arms around her midriff. “Gods,” she said bleakly.
It was too much for Laeth. Without his temper to protect him, he couldn’t resist her misery. He left the bed and, with one boot on, strode to Marri and wrapped his arms around her. “Nothing is going to happen to me, and I’ll do my best to see that nothing happens to Karsten either. You’ll have to be satisfied with that.”
Laeth hugged her and rested his chin on the top of her head, staring blindly at a wall. Marri leaned against him a moment and then whispered, “I’d better go, before my maid starts to worry. She wouldn’t say anything, but it’s better not to tempt fate.”
Laeth allowed her to draw away and then said, “I’m sorry, Marri. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to your father. I’m sorry that you’re worried.” He slanted a faint grin at her and lightened his tone. “I’m even sorry that I’m a stupid mule. Karsten is a good man, even if he is my brother.”
He took Marri’s arm in a formal hold and escorted her to the door. “Thank you for your warning, lady. I’ll keep it in mind. If you find out who started the rumor that I’m behind the assassination attempt, I would like to know his name—but send a servant with a message.”
He put a hand on the door to open it, and Rialla casually attempted to use the remnants of her talent to scan for someone lurking in the hall. She suspected that even if there were someone there, she wouldn’t be able to tell—so she was astounded when she found something.
“Laeth, stop,” she hissed urgently, abandoning her post against the wall to sprint to the door and hold it shut. “There’s someone out there. Wait.” Taking a deep breath, she pressed her forehead against the smooth wood of the door. The person outside the room was in a consuming rage; only the force of his emotions allowed her contact at all. Sweating, she tried to find out more.
The anger she felt was directed at… the cat. The miserable, sharp-toed, speedy tabby who’d left with the tasty scrap of meat he was saving for a snack… Rialla could feel the flush of embarrassment that crept up her fair skin. It was one of the castle dogs. The hunting dogs were allowed full run of the keep—one of Karsten’s little eccentricities.