She put Wind Dancer down gently then strolled toward the paneled wall. Her fingers pressed in one spot, thrust sideways in another. A small opening appeared silently, stayed open briefly, then closed again. It had been large enough for one stooped person to slide through. Both men walked across to join Aisling as she showed them the secret passage. It was uncomplicated but also unlikely to be done by accident.
“Aisling, have you explored along any of this?” Hadrann was curious.
“Of course. I went in the early hours when everyone was asleep and none of Shastro’s spies were likely to be in here because of that. I can identify half a dozen other rooms where we can get into the system. One is right down by the great audience hall, where our beloved duke will meet Franzo. We go there to listen but we shall be ready. If things go bad we run for the passage. Get in, come back up here, and wait.
“If fighting reaches up toward this level we take Wind Dancer and vanish. I took the chance Shastro’s spies would be busy somewhere else and explored again while you were away. Another branch of the passage goes straight down to the stables. If we have horses readied and order our guard to stand to in case, we might be able to get clear of Kars via the small north gate before matters become lethal. If not, I doubt they’ll fire on the palace. We can hide in the wall’s secret passages until things are quiet again.”
“Makes sense to me,” Keelan told her. “I’ll go and tell our guards.”
Hadrann was already moving toward the door. “And I’ll see if I can drop a few hints to Kirion. I just hope he’ll listen, because that fool Shastro won’t, not to me, but he may to his tame sorcerer. Kirion can always claim to have come by the knowledge through his powers.”
Kirion didn’t particularly dislike Hadrann. As far as the sorcerer was concerned Hadrann was simply another young lord at court. It was a pity he was a friend of Keelan, but Kirion was shrewd enough to know Hadrann had been trained by the lord of Aranskeep, a good soldier. He knew the Aranskeep heir kept his eyes open: when Hadrann talked, Kirion listened and nodded. Then he went in search of his duke and laid down the law delicately.
He had to convince Shastro not to attack without frightening him so much that the duke would attack through fear that if he didn’t, he’d be the vulnerable one. He succeeded for the moment but he was worried. Then he went off to make a few emergency preparations of his own. Shastro was becoming less and less stable. If Kirion lost his grip on the duke the whole city could blow up in their faces, a thought that did not inspire his confidence in the meeting’s outcome.
Franzo came armed to the meeting. The duke eyed him nervously. If that soldier thought he’d start anything he was greatly mistaken. There were Kars archers unobtrusively stationed all around the walls of the main audience chamber. Franzo noted them and mentally crossed his fingers. He had his own men waiting as well. If that fool on the throne panicked, they’d have a bloodbath. He marched up to the throne, bowed, half-turned, and his voice boomed out.
“My Lord Duke of Kars, Lords and Ladies of Kars Court, people of Kars, I do not come as a soldier but as an envoy from the Coast Clan and its allies.”
Shastro spoke, his voice thinner and reedier. “It is a strange envoy who comes with an army.”
“The army was to ensure that I arrived. Strange things have been happening to those in power within the clan lately. Nor has Kars always shown itself a friend to the clan. It was felt that I should have an escort of friends to ensure my safety.”
In the upper gallery Aisling muffled a giggle. “An escort of friends”—a lovely way to describe an army of almost a thousand. Franzo certainly wasn’t short of friends. From the looks on the faces of those listening, his words were being taken with a grain of salt there too. Below on his throne Shastro had flushed in anger. He lifted his voice.
“It is a strange envoy I say again who comes with an army. What is it to me that men die in a clan far away. Am I now to be blamed if a farmer falls in the furrow and stubs his toe?”
Franzo eyed him. “It is not you, my Lord Duke, whom we suspect. But there is one close to you who has shown pleasure in, shall we say, acquiring such things as might have lost their owners to accidental death or execution.”
From the gallery Hadrann and the two with him could see Kirion stiffen slightly. His faGe showed a hint of red across the cheekbones. Aisling shivered. Kirion would punish the man for that. Sooner or later in some way that could not be brought home to Kirion. The sorcerer stayed silent. Let Shastro do the talking. It could be useful to see if he defended the man who’d put him where he was.
Shastro had come to a similar conclusion. He planned to be rid of Kirion one day, but for now he needed him against Estcarp and his many enemies, enemies like this man and the clan from which he’d been sent. He looked down, trying hard to appear as if he were considering the man’s words. Unobtrusively he cleared his throat.
“Lord Franzo. You accuse one whose name we both know. What proof do you bring against him? I gave him a gift. I gave it without his request but in gratitude for his aid to me at a time when I had need of it. Ask any in Kars if he walks hung with gold and jewels.” He was safe with that; Kirion didn’t care about them. “Ask any if he has vast holdings.” Safe with that too. Kirion’s tower keep was medium in size and quality. Kirion preferred it that way. He didn’t have to spend too much time away from his studies, running a great estate.
The duke leaned forward earnestly. “Tell me, Lord Franzo. You come with an army. You say this is to protect you, that too many of the powerful in your clan die in strange ways. How strange are heart attacks and bandits? How unusual a fall from a horse that kills an old man growing weak? It is my understanding that the powerful in your clan themselves have decided that it was the brother of your leader who was responsible for his death. In what way do you hold me liable for that?”
With the feeling that he had the other man on the run he pressed on, his voice growing in strength. “You come with an army to protect you from the fate of those others. How does an army save you from a heart attack, from falling over your own feet?” The last sentence had been edged with sarcasm, and it was Franzo’s turn to flush slightly. He opened his mouth to reply and was overridden.
“Lord Franzo. You accuse one who has been my aide and friend for years. You have no proof, only wild tales. It is I who have proof, not of his deeds but of yours, of an attempt by men of your own clan to assassinate their duke.” He listened with satisfaction to the low rumble of anger from the crowd. “Yes. Your clan sent men to murder me secretly, and why? In what way have I harmed your clan?”
He had them now. All were intent on him alone. He stretched out his hands in distress. “Lord Franzo. If I had committed some evil against your clan, was it not their place to come here, stand openly, and speak out. We have laws in Kars and Karsten both. If I had broken these why did your clan not bring an accusation and proof against me.” He sat back, his head bowed a little as if a weight 9/ sorrow rested on him.
“But no one came. Not until you came riding to the gates with an army. You bring accusations but no proof. You terrify my people, you bear false witness, and you threaten me, your duke.” His voice gathered strength. From where he stood Kirion subtly augmented his duke’s voice with power, helping Shastro to produce deeper, more resonant tones. He bled a tinge of power into the words themselves as well, so that they impressed the listeners, even the clansmen and their leader. Franzo stood motionless as Shastro lifted his hands to him.