“Did she continue to offer sound counsel?”
“Actually, no,” Kearney said. “Her counsel suffered as well, until I found myself relying more on my high minister and underministers than on her.”
The thane glanced at Gershon, raising an eyebrow.
“It does give one pause, Your Majesty,” the swordmaster said. “All this time we thought that the archminister merely grieved for a lost friend. Perhaps there was more to it than that. Perhaps they were both in league with the Weaver.”
“No!” the king said, stepping away from the window. “Keziah wouldn’t betray me that way.”
“My father said the same thing about Enid, my liege.”
“This is different! She’s different!”
Clearly Marston didn’t believe this, but it seemed the young noble knew when to retreat. “Of course, my liege.”
“Leave me now,” the king said, refusing to look at either of them. “Both of you. I wish to be alone.”
Gershon rose and stepped to the door, gesturing for the thane to follow. “Shall I send word when Lathrop arrives, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. That will be fine.”
The swordmaster led Marston out of the chamber, closing the door softly behind them.
Once in the corridor, the thane closed his eyes and leaned back against the cool stone wall. “That didn’t go as I had hoped.”
“No, I don’t suppose it did.”
“I didn’t realize that he still felt so strongly for her.”
Gershon frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Come now, swordmaster,” Marston said, opening his eyes. “Shanstead may not be the seat of the dukedom, but it’s more than a farming village, and it lies in the heart of Thorald. We hear what others hear.”
“And what have you heard?”
“That the king and his archminister were once lovers.”
It was an irony more bitter than tansy that word of Kearney’s love affair with Keziah had spread through the land only after he became king, and their love ended. It was forbidden under the laws of every realm in the Forelands for an Eandi man to lie with a Qirsi woman. Qirsi and Eandi alike called such unions the sin of the moons, for Panya and Ilias, a Qirsi woman and Eandi man who defied the laws of men and the commands of their gods for a love that ended in tragedy. Over the past several turns these rumors had become one more arrow in the quiver of those who refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of Kearney’s claim to the throne.
Gershon didn’t know that he had reached for hilt of his sword until the blade was halfway out of its sheath.
“Stand down, swordmaster,” Marston said sharply. The younger man’s hands trembled, but his voice was steady. A pair of guards standing a short distance from them had paused in their conversation to watch the two men. “I meant no offense to you or your king,” Marston began again, dropping his voice. “You must realize by now that I’m loyal to the throne. If I could speak for Thorald, I would throw the weight of our house behind the king and end this conflict before it begins.”
The swordmaster slowly slid his sword back into place.
“The rumors are true, then,” the thane said.
“You’ll never have that from me.”
“All right. But do you think the woman could have turned? Would her bitterness at losing him have run that deep?”
“As I said, you’ll never get me to say anything about this.”
“Damn it, man! We’re speaking of the future of Eibithar! Don’t you understand? If the archminister has betrayed him, then the rest of this means nothing! It won’t matter that this Qirsi woman has confessed, or that Lord Tavis has been vindicated, or even that you might be able to end the threat from Kentigern! She can destroy everything.”
Gershon didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t very well defend Keziah, not without raising suspicions of a different sort. But neither could he bring himself to impugn her further. She was in too much danger already, and though he had never cared for her, he had in the past few turns, come to respect her courage and accept that in her own way she served Kearney as faithfully as anyone in the realm, including himself.
“You heard the king,” he finally told Marston. “He believes that she’s loyal, and he knows her better than anyone. That’s good enough for me.”
“It shouldn’t be. He’s blinded by his passion for the woman. Surely you can see that.”
This time Gershon did draw his sword, holding it loosely before him, its tip lowered.
“You’re a good man, Lord Shanstead. Young yet, but wise beyond your years and brave. Some might say too brave for your own good. Be that as it may, if you speak thus about my lord and king again, I’ll have no choice but to kill you where you stand.”
Marston eyed him for a long time, his hands hanging at his sides though he wore a blade on his belt as well. The guards were staring at them again, the silence in the corridor as thick and dark as smoke from damp firewood.
When at last the thane spoke, it was in a voice scraped bare by fear and anger. “Watch her,” he said. “Believe what you will. Make your threats against me if you must. But watch her as you would a beggar in your marketplace.”
Gershon said nothing, but he nodded and after a moment sheathed his sword once more.
Their eyes met briefly, but before either man could speak, the city bells began to toll for a second time.
“Tremain arrives,” Marston said, looking toward the narrow window at the end of the corridor. “What do you know about his Qirsi?”
Keziah and Shanstead’s minister walked wordlessly to the nearest of the towers, descending the steps to the inner courtyard and then making their way toward the gardens, which were just beginning to blossom after the harsh cold of the snows. Even after putting some distance between themselves and the guards standing watch in the ward, neither of them spoke. Keziah couldn’t help noticing that the minister was quite handsome. She usually liked Qirsi men to wear their hair long, as did Grinsa and so many of the other ministers. But though his hair was as short as the duke of Curgh’s beard, she found herself drawn to him; the pale eyes and angular features reminding her of a boy she had known years ago, when she and Grinsa still lived in Eardley. Shanstead’s minister was only slightly taller than she, but broad and muscular for a Qirsi.
Walking in the sun now, she also noticed the glint of a gold band on his finger, and she gave an inward smile. Always the joined ones. Just once, why can’t I find a man who wears no ring?
She knew why they had left Kearney’s chamber. The thane wished to speak to the king of the conspiracy, and he didn’t want any Qirsi present. And no doubt he had instructed his minister to try to learn whether Keziah had betrayed the king.
“Isn’t this where you ask me if I can help you join the Qirsi movement?”
The man glanced at her, a slight smile on his lips. “In Shanstead we call it the conspiracy.”
Keziah grinned. So handsome. “Xivled, isn’t it?”
“Yes. My friends call me Xiv.”
“Does that mean that I can?”
He laughed. “Yes.”
“Thank you. Tell me, Xiv, does your thane believe me to be a traitor?”
“My thane knows little more about you than I do, Archminister. He makes no judgements as to your loyalty to the king, or lack thereof.”
“But he wonders.”
“Shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t we all?”
“Not necessarily,” Keziah said, shaking her head. “You think you serve the realm by questioning the loyalty of every Qirsi in every court. But all you’re doing is fueling the doubts of our lords, widening the chasm that already divides Eandi from Qirsi. You’re making matters worse, and you’re not learning anything new. I congratulate you for unmasking the traitor in Tobbar’s court, but I fear that your success has made you too bold.”
“You’re wrong.” He halted, faced her, looking earnest and young. “We didn’t create the chasm of which you speak, nor are we responsible for the deepening mistrust between the races. But the conspiracy is real. There are traitors in nearly every court in the Forelands. That’s the reason the conspiracy is so strong, so dangerous. I was once a trusting person, as was Lord Shanstead. I wish I could be still. I don’t enjoy questioning the motives of every Qirsi I meet, or assuming the worst about a person until she can prove to me that she deserves my trust. But that’s the world in which we now live. The conspiracy has done this, and so long as we continue to trust without question, we enhance its strength.”