“I wasn’t the one who killed Haruuc,” Chetiin said.
He held the dagger under Geth’s chin a moment longer, then vaulted off to land well away from him, Ekhaas, and Dagii. Geth thrust himself up, wheezing as he sucked in air.
“Geth,” said Ekhaas, “I think we should listen to him.”
“Why?” Geth croaked.
“Because we’re alive. He could have killed any of us from the shadows before we even knew he was there, but he didn’t. He could have killed you just now, but he didn’t.”
Geth looked at her and at Dagii, then at Chetiin. “I saw you. You killed Haruuc right in front of me.”
“It wasn’t me. A disguise. An illusion, maybe.” Chetiin remained in his crouch, dagger ready. “Blood of six kings, I swear it.” He gestured. “Put away Wrath.”
“No.”
“Geth-” Dagii said. The hobgoblin sheathed his sword. So did Ekhaas. Geth grimaced and put Wrath away as well. Chetiin made his dagger disappear into the sheath on his forearm with a smooth gesture. Geth glared at him with narrowed eyes. A part of him wanted to trust the goblin elder. He’d been a wise and capable friend. The rest of him still stung from Haruuc’s death and Chetiin’s betrayal of their friendship.
“Why should we believe you?” he demanded.
“For the reasons I said. If I wanted to kill Haruuc, I wouldn’t have done it the way that it happened. It was far too public. If you believe nothing else I say, believe that.” He spread his hands. “You know I believed in Haruuc’s vision of a stable Darguun as much as anyone else. Such an obvious killing, especially when Haruuc had not named an heir, would have served no purpose.”
“Except to separate him from the rod if he’d discovered its true power,” said Geth.
Chetiin scowled and jerked his head at the windows around the square. “This isn’t the place to discuss secrets,” he said. “Come with me. There’s a place we can talk.” His face softened. “Trust me. On Haruuc’s memory and my word, I’m telling you the truth.”
Geth glanced at Ekhaas and Dagii. Ekhaas’s ears flicked and she nodded curtly. He looked back to Chetiin. “No tricks,” he said.
The goblin nodded. “After the last two weeks I don’t think I have any tricks left.”
The place he led them to was a fragment of brick wall standing in the middle of large swath of burned-out ruins. The nearest surviving buildings were some distance away.
“One of the fires that burned on the night of Haruuc’s death destroyed this area,” said Chetiin. “It will be reclaimed, but between the mourning period and the games, no one has had time. We won’t be overheard.” He squatted down in the shelter of the wall and looked up at them. “I’ve been watching you for the last few days, waiting for a chance to speak with you alone,” he said. “I saw you leave Khaar Mbar’ost tonight and I followed you to the tiefling’s house. His shutters fit badly. I know your plans. Who thought of creating a false rod?”
Ekhaas answered. “Midian. When he returned.”
Chetiin nodded. “I heard what you told Tenquis about the rod’s influence on Haruuc. Maabet, I should have seen it. Nothing he did in the last days of his life was like him.”
“You said as much when you argued with him just before his death,” said Geth. “You said, ‘You’re not the Haruuc I’ve known for so many years.’”
“If we knew truth when we spoke it, we’d all be seers.” Chetiin’s mouth tightened. “I didn’t guess that the rod had a hold on him. If anything I would have guessed that he had begun to grasp the rod’s power.”
“That’s what we thought you believed,” Geth said. “You also told Haruuc that he would destroy what he’d built unless he was stopped.”
“And you thought that I had followed through and stopped him.” Chetiin fell silent for a moment before adding, “I would have considered it. We swore to keep the rod’s powers secret by any means necessary.” He glanced at each of them in turn. “But we all swore to that. I wouldn’t have acted on my own. I would have come to you.”
“Then what happened?” asked Dagii.
Chetiin made a face and his ears folded down. “I was careless. When I left Haruuc after our argument-after he ordered me out of Khaar Mbar’ost-I was angry. I forgot the first law of the shaarat’khesh: watch and listen. Someone put a crossbow bolt in my back. Poisoned.”
Breath hissed between Geth’s teeth. “Just like Haruuc. Did you see who did it?”
“No.” Chetiin shook his head. “The bolt was bad. The poison was worse. It worked fast, burning in me. It made me weak and blind. Strandpine sap, I think. A big dose, maybe as much as they used on Haruuc.”
“And you’re smaller than he was. How come you’re not dead?”
“An assassin who works with poisons for many years develops a resistance to them,” the goblin said. “As it was, I was as good as dead. That probably saved me. I think if I had been any more alive, my attacker would have been certain to finish the job.”
“Lucky,” Ekhaas said.
“It wasn’t my only piece of luck. I drifted in and out of consciousness after that while the poison ran its course. When I finally woke up, I realized that I’d been stuffed up onto a ledge in one of the chimneys of Khaar Mbar’ost. If not for the ban on fires during the period of mourning, smoke in the chimney would have suffocated me.” He spread his hands. “The bolt had been pulled out of me, maybe to make it easier to hide my body. That spared me further exposure to the poison. My daggers had been taken, of course. When I managed to climb down, I discovered the ledge I’d been hidden on was above the fireplace in my own chamber.”
“Your chamber was searched,” said Dagii. “I was there.”
“Whoever attacked me did a good job. The ledge was invisible from below. Smoke and heat would have preserved my body. What little smell there might be would have been whisked up the chimney. I might never have been found.”
He said it with a chilling bluntness, as if talking about his own murder was the most natural thing in the world. Geth held back a shudder. “And we would have kept on thinking you’d gone into hiding. Why didn’t you come to us?”
“I overheard that Haruuc was dead and that I had done the deed. I didn’t know who had attacked me, but it was clear that anyone who found me wasn’t going to let me live long enough to explain. I could barely move, much less defend myself. It was two days after Haruuc’s death. I bandaged my wound, disguised myself, got out of Khaar Mbar’ost, and made my way to a shaarat’khesh house. It was deserted-those of my clan had fled the city or moved to more secure shelter-but it was enough for me. I spent eight days recovering there until the end of the mourning period.” His expression darkened. “With the beginning of the games, I was able to move around Rhukaan Draal in disguise. I learned everything that had happened-and I started to watch for my chance to talk to you. You gave it to me tonight.” He spread his hands. “Sit ya toomiish-those are events as they happened to me. I didn’t kill Haruuc, but someone wants it to look like I did.”
“If you didn’t,” asked Geth, “who did? And why?”
“You believe me then?”
“I-” Geth hesitated. He wanted to believe the goblin. What Chetiin had told them made at least as much sense to him as the idea that Chetiin could have turned on Haruuc. And yet the time he had spent since Haruuc’s death cursing Chetiin’s name wouldn’t leave him so easily. Both versions of events were incredible.
Dagii spoke into the silence. “I believe you,” he said firmly. “You have too much muut, too much atcha to have acted against Haruuc on your own. I know that you would have come to us first.”
Geth glanced at Ekhaas. The duur’kala’s ears were cocked. Slowly, she nodded. “I think you’re telling the truth,” she said to Chetiin. She smiled. “Khaavolaar, I hated thinking of you as a traitor!”
Geth’s gut felt a little hollow, as if he was a traitor now. He forced a smile to his face, though. “I believe you, too. It’s good to have you back.”
Chetiin didn’t smile. His dark-stained face remained pensive. “I’m not back,” he said. “Too many people think I was the one who put Witness into Haruuc’s eye.” He shook his head. “I’ve thought about it ever since I escaped, but I don’t know the answer to your question, Geth. I don’t know who actually killed Haruuc.”