“You can’t listen to people who make glass,” said Nettle. “What do they know?”
“They know who they want their daughters to marry. They know that it was a Koramite in Whitecliff.”
“You didn’t learn anything back there, did you? The glassmaster was never interested in you. I say good riddance.”
Easy for Nettle to say. Talen had learned plenty and it had nothing to do with the glassmaster. He’d learned that Koramites would never rise as long as they protected and hid the bad elements among them. He’d learned that no matter what he did, his blood would drag him down. He’d learned the smith’s wife had stolen from him, stolen from them all. Talen flicked the reins and started Iron Boy walking.
First he’s beaten by villagers who know him. Next he’s attacked by hunters and accused of Slethery. Now this. It would only get worse. There was only one way to turn things around. He had to prove in some way that evil did not run in his blood. That it didn’t infect all Koramites.
He’d told the glass master he had nothing to do with Sleth. And yet he himself was falling into the trap, hiding the bad elements.
“I’m going to turn in those hatchlings,” said Talen.
“You do,” said Nettle, “and you start the wheels of your own doom. They’ll pry your name out of that little blind one. What then?”
“Look,” said Talen. “We wouldn’t hide a thief or murderer, why then should we hide Sleth, which are both? There’s got to be some way to deliver them and preserve ourselves.”
“There’s only one way to do that,” said Nettle.
“And that is?”
Nettle gave Talen a sober look. “Dead. You’ll have to deliver them dead.”
28
Rubaloth stood on the portico, the sun-warmed marble under his naked feet, the warm breeze washing across his legs and bringing the sulfur scent of the hot mineral pools. Behind him in the chamber, the lord of the Fir-Noy, the one they called the Crab, lay on a couch, trying to gather his wits.
“Pour him another cup of the tea,” Rubaloth said to Leaf, the dreadman who was his guide. Rubaloth had just performed a seeking and then a minor binding on this man, forming a link between the Crab and an escrum, a weave that would allow them to communicate over distances. Bindings disoriented a man, made him dizzy and stupid. But Rubaloth did not have the time to let this man sleep it off. It would take a few days for the binding to cure completely, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be useful before then.
He heard the clink of the teapot, the sound of a cup being filled with wizard’s tea, then Leaf’s footfalls over to the couch.
Rubaloth had been cold the whole time on the sea and rummaging through this man’s mind made him feel filthy. He ached to submerse himself in the hot water that lay at the end of the marble path.
“This is a bitter brew,” said the Crab.
Rubaloth did not reply. He waited for the clink on the platter that would signal Leaf had returned the empty cup.
“So what is it you want us to do?”
“I want you to find out all you can about this Captain Argoth. Where his family is from, his business dealings, the types of foods he eats. I want to know if he has a regimen of exercise.”
“Exercise, Great One?”
“I want to know what he puts in his body and what comes out. You’ll dig in his privy. You’ll search his pantry and root cellars.” Anyone who used the lore needed to eat certain foods to keep the body from wasting. They needed to exercise in a certain way to prepare the body for the moment of quickening.
“Do you suspect him?”
“I suspect everyone, Clansman, including you.”
“Argoth’s sister married a Koramite,” said the Crab. “There are a number of us in the Council who have never trusted him.”
“You will provoke nothing,” continued Rubaloth. “He must know nothing. His wife must suspect nothing. You will take action only upon my command. And that will come through this minor binding.”
“What about questioning the Koramite?”
“Your tower is not secure. You’ll move him immediately. Far from Whitecliff.”
“Yes,” said the Crab.
“Do not touch him.” If the Koramite had anything to do with the rebellion here, if he had any secrets, Rubaloth would seek them out himself. He did not want to risk incompetent men killing or damaging the man.
“You do not want us to press him?”
“What did I just say?”
The Crab bowed. “Please forgive my stupidity, Bright One.”
“Be faithful over these few things and you shall be made ruler over many. Fail me, and you will be cast aside like rancid meat.”
He heard the Crab rise. His voice slurred slightly. “My heart is given to Mokad,” he said.
His heart was given to Mokad only because he saw that as his path to glory. Rubaloth felt that clearly during the seeking. He also felt nothing to suggest the Crab was part of the cabal that had murdered Lumen, which meant such ambition could be used.
“Prepare yourself. Wait for my command to use the weaves I’ve given you.”
“Yes, Bright One.”
Rubaloth turned the screw one last time. “I expect great things from you. Remember, the Glory is searching to replace Lumen. Which means he is also looking to raise one or two as candidates. It is not”-he paused-“impossible for a man of your experience and talents.”
The Crab’s voice echoed strongly off the floor, which meant he was bowing deeply. “I will not disappoint you, Bright One.”
Rubaloth dismissed him. Leaf walked the Crab out. When he returned, he said, “Do you trust him?”
“I trust his ambition.” Rubaloth took a breath, satisfied with this part of his plan. “Where’s Uram?”
“He’s coming, Bright One.”
Moments later the sound of studded sandals echoed down the hallway and stopped in the room. “My Lord?” said Uram in his pleasing voice.
“Argoth must come to the ship willingly. That is your mission. If he tries to escape, subdue him, but avoid killing him at all costs. When we’re out to sea, I will be more comfortable pressing him. But not a moment before. Defer to him, treat him as you would a lord.”
“May I respectfully suggest that we do not know the enemy’s size or strength. Will it not be safer to take him directly to the ship, Bright One?”
“Safer, yes, but also less effective. This enemy is a serpent, Captain. The moment it feels threatened, it will attack or flee. And so we shall give it no cause for alarm. When he’s cut off from all help and all prying eyes, I shall crack his mind like a nut. In that moment, surprise will be on our side. We will know his secrets. And if he is Sleth, then I will direct our allies here to quickly and quietly move on them all.”
“Yes, Bright One.”
“You may go, Uram. I will see you on the morrow.”
Rubaloth turned to Leaf. “Now our part. We cannot let a pack of traitors think we are uneasy, can we?” He held out his arm for Leaf to take and turned to the pools. “Have you got the wine?”
“Yes, Bright One. I have arranged for a massage.”
They walked out of the chamber and down the path arm in arm. At that moment a clamor arose ahead, punctuated by screams.
Rubaloth felt for Leaf’s mind so that he might see. Had they underestimated the enemy?
Through Leaf’s eyes, he saw a number of knee-high, red-faced beasts run across the path. A troop of green-and-white-clad servants ran after them with sticks and stones.
“G’alls!” he exclaimed. “Woodikin?”
Leaf drew the sword he kept at his side.
The beasts ran up the hill on his left and disappeared over the top with many screeches. The servants followed, throwing rocks and ringing bells.
Another servant carrying the wine walked along another path as if nothing were happening. Leaf called to her. “Hoy, what is this?”