“Well, he is a good deal easier to deal with than his sister,” Seregil pointed out with a smile. “But the Rhiminee merchants and the nobles who back them won’t like losing
custom to smaller ports up the coast, or beyond the Cirna Canal if he decides to close the Lower City, especially on account of an illness that strikes down only those in the most wretched wards.”
“Which is why the vicegerent relies on me and not them to judge such things.”
“Maybe whatever it is will pass when the heat breaks,” said Alec.
“Perhaps,” said Valerius, but he didn’t sound particularly hopeful. “I think it might be best if you two come with me to speak with Korathan, since you’ve seen more of it than I.” He cast a baleful look in the direction of the priest. “I should send him, so he can explain why he kept all this secret, but I see no point in wasting the prince’s time.”
The prince’s formal audience hours had not yet begun in the great hall. A servant led them instead through the royal household to the queen’s garden, where Korathan was taking breakfast alone and reading a tall stack of correspondence as he did so. Seregil hid a smile at the prince’s look of surprise as he and the others bowed.
Korathan rose and took Valerius’s hand, then raised an eyebrow at Seregil and Alec. “You two again? This is unexpected.”
“Please forgive the early intrusion, but we bring word of a matter of the utmost importance,” the drysian replied. “A new sickness has appeared in the Lower City and over a hundred people have died.”
The prince’s pale eyes narrowed dangerously at that. “And this is the first I’m hearing of it?”
“I only heard of it this morning, and from these two,” Valerius explained.
Korathan glanced at Seregil. “You certainly are busy fellows.”
The drysian went on. “The priests and healers down there have been trying to study it and manage it themselves, but it continues to spread. Last night Alec found a man in the Upper City, who’d apparently come up through the Harbor Way.”
Korathan sat down and waved them to the other chairs. “Bilairy’s Balls! As if we needed anything else this summer. Tell me more.”
“Seregil and Alec have seen more of it than I have.”
The two of them told the prince of the people they’d found, and the temple drysians’ reactions.
“You handled the bodies and yet you come here?” Korathan asked incredulously.
“Yes, and as you can see, Your Highness, we haven’t caught whatever it is,” Alec replied.
“How it is passed is a mystery so far,” Valerius explained. “But it doesn’t seem to be through physical contact. I mean to look into this personally.”
“Very good. See that you keep me apprised of your progress. Of all the damnable luck!”
“With all this heat, I’m surprised we haven’t seen more sickness,” said Valerius. “Hopefully this one will run its course quickly.”
“I’ll issue the edict of quarantine immediately.” With that Korathan returned to his breakfast and the papers he’d been studying.
Parting ways with Valerius at the front gate, Seregil and Alec headed for Wheel Street.
“There, that’s handled,” Seregil remarked as they rode down Silvermoon. “Are you satisfied?”
Alec shrugged. “Quarantine isn’t going to help the people who are already sick.”
“It’s in Valerius’s hands, now, tali. There’s nothing more we can do. Come on, let’s see Thero, then it’s home for a nap for me.”
CHAPTER 28. Ruby Lane
SEREGIL had his answer about the attempted assassination the following afternoon when Runcer appeared at the library door. “My lord, there’s an urchin asking for you.”
“The usual urchin?” Seregil asked, setting his book aside.
“No, my lord. A new one.”
The boy in question had been left waiting on the front doorstep. He wasn’t much older than Kepi, and had the same capable, starved look about him. He hopped to his feet as soon as Seregil stepped out.
“Message for you, m’lord,” he said, making a sort of bow.
“Yes?”
“Just one word, m’lord. ‘Laneus.’ ”
Seregil felt a cold sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, although he’d expected something like this. He gave the child a silver penny and went back inside.
Alec came in from the kitchen and found Seregil staring at the murals, absently rubbing at the thin scab on his throat.
“What’s wrong?”
“Laneus didn’t waste any time. He set the assassins on us. I doubt they’ll stop at just one attempt.”
“Time to pay him a visit, don’t you think?” asked Alec.
“Perhaps he and his lady would enjoy an evening out? I’ll send invitations to him and Malthus, and Eirual and Myrhichia, too. The women will be a good distraction. I’ll fall ill at the last moment and send you to play host. Take them to the Red Hart. If anything goes wrong, you can excuse yourself and ride like hell to warn me.”
“Why can’t I do the housebreaking? You’re better at entertaining the nobles.”
“You’ll be fine.” Seregil leaned forward and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “Besides, it’s my turn.”
“We’re taking turns now? If that’s the case, then you’re wrong. You burgled Malthus, and Reltheus,” Alec countered, undeterred by the kiss. His expression darkened ominously. “This is the second time you’ve tried to keep me from going out alone. Is this about that night I broke into Kyrin’s house without you?”
“No, tali, I just-” Seregil broke off with a sigh. He’d sworn long ago not to lie to his talimenios. “Well, maybe a bit.”
“I’m going,” Alec said in a tone that he seldom used with Seregil, or anyone else, for that matter. “Either you trust me, or you don’t.”
“It’s not a matter of trust.”
“Yes, it is.” Alec took him firmly by the shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “You’re going with Laneus. Because you are much better at charming the nobles than I am, and always will be. I’ll be fine-and careful. I promise.”
A muscle twitched in Seregil’s jaw as he clenched his teeth against all the arguments he wanted to make. It was true; he hated the thought of Alec doing the job alone, in a large and unfamiliar villa. But Alec was also right about their individual skills. His young partner had taken to nightrunning and swordplay far more naturally than he had to the delicate thrust and parry of social subterfuge.
Caught in the strong current of that earnest blue gaze, Seregil gave in. “All right. You do the housebreaking.”
Alec grinned. “And I won’t set anything on fire.”
Dressing for the evening, Seregil was careful to leave the lacings of his shirt loose, so that the garrote mark showed. It would be interesting to see how Laneus reacted to the sight of it.
The sharp thud of an arrow striking a wooden target drifted in through the open bedroom window. Seregil shrugged into one of his more elaborate coats and wandered over to watch
Alec send another shaft to the center of the painted bull’s-eye. The setting sun cast a mellow light over the garden and picked out glints of pure gold in his lover’s hair as he smoothly nocked an arrow and raised the bow again, speeding a third arrow to split one of the first two. It was a neat trick, if hard on arrows, and one that never ceased to impress people. Alec made it look as easy as picking a single ward lock.
As he lingered there at the window, however, another image came to him: Yhakobin’s villa in Plenimar, and the day he’d stood at a barred window, seeing Alec alive in another garden, walking with Ilar.
Stop it, Seregil told himself, willing the painful image away. The past was past and Alec was right about his unreasoning fears.
He stood a moment longer, admiring the strong lines of Alec’s slim body, and the lean, corded muscles in the younger man’s bare forearms as he pulled the bowstring to his ear again. Seregil had long since come to appreciate that archery was far more to Alec than a mere skill; it was a kind of meditation, a way he sometimes focused that fearless mind of his.