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“So you wandered off into the lower city.” She fluttered eyelashes. “How very foolish.”

Keelan looked wry. “Quite so. But it was a pleasant day, I had my bridle, and I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously!” Hadrann snapped. “Will you stop discussing that witch-damned bridle and tell us what happened to you?”

Keelan’s tale was interesting if only because it illustrated what he’d said about the lower city. He’d wandered along the streets, purchased food from a street vender, and when he failed to pay attention to his direction, managed to get himself turned around in the maze of alleys. He’d gone the way he thought to be right only to find it wasn’t, not by some distance. Then he’d heard footsteps following. He’d dived around a couple of corners, which seemed to have been the intent. Now and again he glanced casually at Aisling, reading the words her hands wove. He nodded, following her lead as he continued.

He groaned. “I was an idiot, I admit it. They let me hear them following to make me hurry in the direction they wanted. When I came around a corner, someone dropped a roof on my head. I woke up in a cellar. I’d been stripped down to my underclothes, my head was killing me, and that place was filthy!

“That’s how I got this way.” A wave of his hand indicated the befouled clothing he’d dumped at one end of the room. “I’d been tied and I could hear them talking up the stairs. They were going to murder me, take my body out after dark, and dump it in the river. The tide would just be starting out, and I’d go with it.”

Hadrann looked startled. “Whoever they were, someone wasn’t a fool. They kept you alive just in case a major search was mounted. They could dump you out somewhere and stop the poking into everything any searchers would be doing.”

“True. One of them checked me, and I played dead. He believed I was still unconscious. As soon as he was gone I wriggled all over that damned cellar, found a chip of stone and frayed the rope to where I could break it. After that I waited. They went off somewhere to check if I’d been missed and left the door at the top of the cellar stairs unlocked. I didn’t waste time, I can tell you. I got out of there and made a run for it. Bumped into the duke’s guards almost at once.”

Aisling clasped her hands. “Thanks be that our duke cares for his people. And they brought you back. Did they find your prison or any of the wicked men who had attacked you?”

Keelan nodded, then yelped and held his head. “Ow. I must remember not to do that for a while. Yes, they found the cellar. No trace of the men though, but the duke will search. What an insult to him that a member of his court should be kidnapped in the duke’s own city. And do you know, I really couldn’t swear to it, but I thought one of those I heard had the merest trace of a mountain accent.”

His voice became self-righteous. “I didn’t mention it. After all, I’m not certain. It could have been one of those mush mouths from the very far South. But he didn’t speak in quite the way of the city. Of that I am sure.” He ducked down and continued to scrub. Aisling was listening. After a minute she grinned.

“He’s gone. It’s a nuisance that passage is there, but they can only listen to what’s said in this room.” She stared at her brother, ran her fingers through his hair to feel the lump. “Hold on and I’ll do something for that. I can’t fix it completely in case Shastro has the court healer check, but I can take most of the pain.” She did so, and Keelan sighed in relief.

“Thanks be. That headache was killing me.”

“Right. Now that you can think clearly, how much of that tale is the whole truth?” Hadrann queried.

“Most of it. I omitted that I think the whole house was a nest of spies. The leader was furious with whoever hauled me in. I gather I was a mistake on the part of some overzealous idiot who thought I was snooping. And,” he paused teasingly, “they weren’t Estcarp either. I recognized a voice. Remember Duke Pagar?”

“We’re hardly likely to forget him.” Aisling’s tone was dry. “He got the whole Karsten army killed and our great-grandfather. Why? You aren’t saying that it was Pagar’s ghost returned?”

“No, I’m saying that Pagar married into a powerful clan who lost most of what they had when Pagar failed and would like to have it back. They weren’t at all happy when the other lords chose to skip two previous ducal lines and accept Shastro as duke. That was the voice I heard: Lord Sarnor or one of his sons. They all sound alike.”

Hadrann whistled softly. “Now that could send the hunter out. We must see Shastro gets the message. Set him against Sarnor’s clan, and they’ll keep each other occupied while we follow our own road.” He lounged back against the wall. “This could be very very useful!”

VII

Keelan was summoned the next morning. But a long sleep and Aisling’s minor healing had left him in shape to obey and be helpful to the agitated and inquiring Shastro.

“Now, Lord Keelan, please give me a full account. I want in particular to know any thing that could help us recognize your kidnappers.”

So it had been the duke’s man listening. Keelan nodded. “I shall do my best, my Lord Duke.” He had nothing to hide so he was meticulous. He described every event in detail, every word he could remember, although here and there he shaded those a fraction. Once, when he mentioned the mountain accent, he added in his own ideas.

Shastro nodded thoughtfully. “Likely. Certainly not impossible. Those who’ve risen to power seldom like it when the wheel turns. I daresay they hoped to influence me to some action using a member of my court as leverage.” He turned to address the heavy tapestry covering a corner at the back of his throne room.

“What do you think, Kirion?” His sorcerer emerged from behind the heavy embroidered cloth to glance at his duke and Keelan.

“I think my brother may have the right of it. It’s unlikely he was taken to pressure you. More likely it was I they planned as a target.”

“You?” Shastro looked disconcerted.

“Why not? Look at the facts. Keelan is a minor member of your court, not a particular friend of yours, and of no strategic importance to Kars. On the other hand he is my brother. The kidnappers may well have believed that they could force me to obey instructions if they held him.”

Keelan kept his mouth shut. He knew Kirion and was under no illusions on that score. Kidnappers could have cut him into pieces at high noon before the entire court, and Kirion wouldn’t have lifted a finger unless he saw an advantage for himself. But Keelan thought there was an advantage his brother might not have noticed as yet. He opened his mouth and spoke as if puzzled.

“It was a mountain accent. The more I think the more I am sure of it. But what had Pagar’s clan to gain? They’re rich enough. They have moderate lands, and they were almost destroyed by Estcarp. Surely it isn’t likely…” He let his voice trail off into silence as he saw the two suggestions strike home.

Kirion’s face had gone blank at the mention of lands and coin. Shastro’s look had darkened as he thought his way through possibilities. Then he erupted in fury.

“I—me. It was me they sought to betray when they took Keelan.” He spun to stare at his sorcerer. “Look at the facts, Kirion. If they could use your brother to force you to act against me, then I would be helpless. Who in Kars has the power you have?”

“I would not have listened to them.”

“No, no, of course not. But they wouldn’t know how loyal you are.”

It wasn’t loyalty, Keelan reflected. Kirion didn’t know the meaning of the word. In reality Kirion hated the brother who’d inherited. He would have made a great play of his anguish and higher loyalties, then let the kidnappers murder Keelan and smiled happily in private. Shastro was working himself into a fury of wounded pride and fear.