“Seregil, he’s been helping to depose the rightful heir,
whether he was going along with regicide or not. And the others were serious enough about it to kill you and Alec to protect their secret. Why are you still so loyal to him? I know you’ve been friends with him for a long time, but treason is treason.”
“I know. According to Laneus, though, they’re merely protecting Klia from being murdered by Reltheus and his lot. He bragged of his loyalty to Phoria and Elani.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Laneus? No. There must be more to his cabal than merely protecting Klia. Otherwise why would he try to have us killed rather than use us?”
“Indeed. If I were you, I’d get dressed, and quickly, before you have a larger escort,” Thero warned. “The sooner you appear before Korathan, the better.”
They left Wheel Street the back way, narrowly missing running into a turma of the City Regiment, who no doubt carried a demand from Korathan to attend him, or a warrant.
“Do you think they’ll arrest us on sight?” Alec asked nervously as they entered Silvermoon Street.
“I doubt it.”
Outside the gates to the palace grounds a throng of angry, shouting commoners were waving bits of cloth and various household implements over their heads.
“What’s going on?” Seregil asked a young noble watching from a safe distance across the street.
“It’s the quarantine, my lord,” the lad replied. “The sleeping death is striking people left and right now.”
Prince Korathan had issued a formal edict of quarantine after speaking with Valerius, but only on the areas where the sickness had occurred, rather than on the entire Lower City. The ends of those streets were boarded up and patrols of the City Guard joined the City Watch in patrolling the streets and rooftops once the riots began. Korathan managed to quell most of these quickly by sending in cartloads of food and ale, as reassurance that he didn’t mean to solve the problem by starving them. But the patrols and barricades remained in place.
“He’s feeding them, isn’t he?” said Alec.
“But not their families, who continue to suffer from the shortages.”
“If it was one of you, you wouldn’t leave them in that pest hole!” a woman across the street shouted, shaking a broom at the Palace. “Bad enough the high-and-mightys are starving us. Now they’re leaving our loved ones to die alone.”
“Plague don’t strike the nobles, does it?” someone yelled back.
The roar of the crowd swelled, some demanding their family members back, others shouting for flour and meat.
Guards with halberds parted the crowd for them. Inside the grounds, all was peaceful except for the distant shouting. A full troop of mounted guards sat their horses near the Palace entrance, armed with truncheons, and there was considerable activity down at the nearby cavalry barracks.
“This looks serious,” Alec murmured as they left their horses with a groom and went inside.
“I’ve never seen the like.”
No one tried to stop or apprehend them as they entered the receiving hall, either. Instead a servant led them to the small audience chamber, a room almost as grim as the palace exterior, and one with which they were already acquainted. It was long and rather narrow, and lit by a row of stained-glass slit windows set just below the vaulted ceiling. At the far end, several rows of long oak benches faced a large throne on a raised dais. The vicegerent’s banner hung behind it, signifying that Phoria was out of the city, and that Korathan dealt with all state business while she was away at war. At the moment the chamber was empty except for the three of them and the servant at the door keeping watch on them.
“I hate this room,” Thero muttered, sitting stiffly on one of the front benches.
“So do I,” Alec agreed as he paced restlessly back and forth.
Seregil sat down beside Thero. “We generally don’t get a warm welcome here. I’d be happier if we’d been taken to Korathan’s chambers.”
“I don’t welcome possible traitors there,” the prince said as he swept in with a female wizard.
Alec recognized the woman; she was Korathan’s wizard, Ymany, and a truth knower. He and the others dropped to one knee with a fist pressed to their chest before the dais.
“I see you’ve preempted my summons,” Korathan noted, sitting down in the ornate chair to the right of the throne.
“I brought them,” Thero told him.
“I won’t even ask how you knew before I did,” Korathan said with a sigh. “I suppose you two have come to explain yourselves?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Seregil told him, remaining formal under the circumstances and in front of the wizard. “We were aware of the letter and its rather ambiguous contents.”
“Really? And how is that?”
“I saw it last night,” Alec told him.
Korathan raised an expectant eyebrow. “Why would Laneus, who thought you were friends, write such a letter?”
“Probably for the same reason he tried to have us killed,” Seregil replied.
“Twice,” added Alec.
“You’re certain of that?”
Seregil nodded.
“And it’s still your belief that Klia has no part in the business, nor supports it in any way?”
“More than ever,” Thero replied.
“No one understands the gravity of the situation better than we do, Highness,” Seregil told him. “Laneus’s letter was addressed to Your Highness. That could implicate not only Klia, but Princess Aralain or yourself, as well. We don’t want to place you in the position of having to keep our secrets from the queen any more than you already have. But I swear to you by my life that Alec and I are acting only on Skala’s behalf.”
“That’s not completely true, Highness,” Ymany said.
Korathan gave Seregil a level look, waiting.
“And to save Klia.” It was the truth and the wizard nodded.
“Very well. What new information have you gathered in your mysterious ways?”
“I believe I may have been attacked by some of Sarien’s men last night.” Seregil took out the bronze charm and gave it to him.
“Yes, his soldiers wear these,” Korathan said, staring unhappily down at it. “But soldiers give these things away to children and loved ones, too. Anyone could have one.”
“That’s one explanation,” Seregil allowed. “Or maybe someone wanted to throw suspicion Sarien’s way, although they’d have had no idea that I was going to tear it from the man’s neck.”
“Then what exactly do you suggest I do?”
“Give us a little longer to find proof of Klia’s innocence.”
“And the letter mentioning you?”
“Give out that it was some misunderstanding? You could say the man had a grudge against me. It’s the truth anyway.”
Korathan glanced at his wizard, who nodded. “Did you have a hand in Laneus’s death?”
“No.”
The wizard nodded again.
Korathan thought for a moment, then said, “I can’t look the other way for much longer. I need you to work more quickly.”
Seregil and the others bowed with their fist to their chests again. “Of course.”
CHAPTER 30. An Unexpected Turn of Foul Luck
LANEUS’S sudden death so close on the heels of Kylith’s caused a minor stir among the nobility; that of Count Tolin a few days later fueled talk of some mysterious illness at work among the nobility. After all, wasn’t there a plague among the poor? Or, others whispered, perhaps a murderer? The drysians reported no traces of wounds or poison in either case, but perhaps magic?
For all the talk, neither Thero nor Valerius could determine what had killed Tolin, or Laneus; their hearts simply seemed to have stopped beating. Nonetheless, it wasn’t lost on anyone that they were members of rival cabals, one of which most certainly had access to Wyvern Blood.
The heat held, and while Seregil and Alec attended the princess and kept an eye on their collection of conspirators, the denizens of the Lower City stews continued to sicken and die.
It had been another late night with Reltheus. As Alec rode beside Seregil through the dark, quiet city toward Wheel Street, he wanted nothing more than some cool water and a soft bed. The late-summer air was charged and humid even at this hour, with the promise of thunderstorms to come. Flexing his sweating shoulders under the unwelcome weight of his linen coat, Alec added a nice refreshing wash in for good measure, perhaps with Seregil’s help.