It was a matter of minutes before the snake arrived. It slithered in through the front entrance as though it had been invited, all seven scaled feet of it. “I said I would speak to you again,” it said.
“Tell me about your settlement with the Lord of the Sky.” The snake reared its head, and hissed, but I continued as nonchalantly as I could manage. “I think Artau Ehat has grown tired of trying to rid the kings of Therete of the curse. The murder of the priests was the breaking point. It didn’t help that you had deprived him of the woman who was to produce the curse-free heir. You meddled with my sister, the way Artau Ehat meddled with the unborn princes of Therete, to make her fit for the purpose.”
“Perceptive, Son of Ysas,” said the snake, lowering itself again.
“You want an end to your quarrel with the Lord of the Sky, but you also want vengeance on the kings who insulted you. The Lord of the Sky wants a king he can speak to directly. Pious and obedient as he is, Atehatsqe doesn’t qualify. But Varoshtej does.” The snake stared at me, unblinking. “And so you and Artau Ehat agree that Atehatsqe must die.”
The snake’s tongue flickered. “To satisfy me, Atehatsqe must die of my poison. Atehatsqe’s virtue makes the normal means impossible. The sky lord consents to your being the instrument.”
“What profit for me?” I asked, my stomach turning.
“What do you wish?”
“You said you could make me intact again.”
There was the briefest of hesitations. “It is possible.”
I leaned back in my chair, made myself take a sip of wine. “I wouldn’t live long afterwards. You’ve made promises to whoever has taken my father’s place.” No answer. “I have no chance of surviving anyway. Varoshtej will certainly have me killed.”
“I will promise that you escape safely.”
“And then?”
“You may set reasonable conditions on your death.”
“If I give the poison to Atehatsqe, I will only be killed by the person I choose.”
“If you give the poison to Atehatsqe and he dies, you will only be killed by the person you choose. Name the person.”
“I must consider carefully.” I took another swallow of wine. “Ask me again when Atehatsqe has died.”
“When Atehatsqe has died, I will ask you again. If you refuse to appoint someone the choice will be mine.”
I drained the cup and leaned forward to proffer it to the snake. “We’re agreed.”
I sent my servants back to the city on some pretext, with a message for Qes. She was to take the rest of the women and return to the dowager’s household. I dared not say more than that, but there was no need — Qes would know. She already knew, and had tried to tell me when she’d spoken of her anger with Varoshtej’s ambitious wife.
When Atehatsqe sent for me, I brought the cup. He was sitting in the carved chair drinking wine, the bandage white against his hand. Varoshtej had left his knife on the table and it shone dully in the lamplight.
I knelt beside him and held out the cup. “What is it?” he asked.
“Snake venom,” I said, quietly. His face went deadly calm. “The snake…” My throat was tight. “The snake has an agreement with the sky. You are to die by its poison, but it can’t bite you.”
“And you are to deliver it.” His voice was just the slightest bit unsteady. “What was your agreement with the snake?”
“If I give you the poison and you die, then I will only be killed by the person I choose. It seems to me that if I don’t give it to you, you can’t be killed.” I swallowed. “We could leave here. Or you could have me killed. The agreement specified that I would poison you.”
“Tell me exactly what was said.” I reported the conversation as exactly as I could remember it. “And who,” he said when I was done, “do you plan to have kill you?”
“My son.”
He raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Do you have a son?”
“I have no idea.”
He stared a moment, and then he laughed. “Oh, that’s excellent.” He rose abruptly from the chair, paced to the entrance of the tent and back. “If you don’t have one yet…”
“The god will have to give me one.” I was still kneeling. “Can I get up?”
He reached down and took my arm, raised me standing. “You realize,” he said, serious again, “that neither of us is going to survive this.”
“Leave. Stay as far away from me as you can.”
“What if the rains won’t fall while I live?”
My throat was tight again. “I’d hoped we might cheat them for once.”
Atehatsqe took the cup from me. “How long do I have after I drink this?”
“You could swallow snake venom by the dipperful and never be harmed, unless you had a cut in your mouth. It has to get under your skin.”
The truth of the matter hadn’t penetrated until then, I saw it on his face. He looked at the bandage on his hand. “I suppose his courage failed him,” I said. It was the kindest thing I could find to say.
“He might at least have told me.” I had no answer for him. “How long?”
“Four or five hours.”
He smiled grimly and took the knife from the table. “We can follow the agreement to the letter and still cheat, just as gods do. If you poison me and I cut myself, I’ll bleed to death well before five hours have passed.”
“How can you be so calm?” I was blinking back tears.
“I’m not,” he said, sharply, not looking at me but at the knife. “Don’t ask me that again.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “Take my clothes. It’s dark, no one will know it’s not me. Be sure and take a cloak. I imagine it will rain tonight. Or tomorrow at the latest. Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “I smiled when I saw your sister because she looked so much like you. I would have been kind to her, I swear, but it was you I loved, from when I saw you. I know you could never love me, but I had hoped that you might someday.” As I tried to speak he laid his fingers on my mouth. “Don’t lie to me, now of all times. If you meet Varoshtej, tell him…” He looked away, and then back again. “No. Just greet him as king.” He handed me the cup, and pulled the bandage off his hand. “Give me the poison as you agreed to.”
I did, and then when he needed it I handed him the knife. I stayed with him until the end.
The soldiers outside the tent saluted me, but twenty paces beyond I met Varoshtej. He knew me immediately, I saw the change in his stance, even in the dark saw him draw breath to call out. “I was promised my life, Priest,” I said, quietly. “What were you promised?”
“You acted to revenge yourself!” he whispered harshly. “I loved him.”
“Wrong both times,” I said, and wished I could see his expression. “Hail, king of Therete! Rule wisely! But remember that no matter how pious and virtuous you are, you will never be able to trust your god.”
“You know nothing of the Lord of the Sky.”
“I know what I need to know,” I said, and walked on unchallenged.
By morning clouds had rolled across the sky. I had no idea where I was, or what direction I was walking. The wind blew cold, and when the first fat drops fell I found shelter in a half-fallen shed in the corner of a field. I was tired and hungry and thirsty, though I supposed in a short while I’d have all the water I cared for.
I slept, and when I woke the rain was so heavy that I could barely see a foot away from where I sat. “Well,” I said aloud. “Now what?”
“A question you should have asked sooner,” said a small, hissing voice.
“I gave the poison to Atehatsqe, and he died. I will only be killed by my son.”