“I wanted to make certain that I hadn’t angered you today.”
“When?”
“During our conversation with Gorlan. I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to say, how honest you wanted me to be.”
He forced a smile. He was growing increasingly impatient with her weakness, yet he knew that he needed her, particularly now that his source of gold was gone, at least temporarily. He couldn’t afford to lose any of his servants just now. “You did just fine. I want him to join our cause and I believe he will, thanks in part to what you said. I’m. . I’m pleased.”
She lowered her gaze. “Thank you, Weaver,” she whispered.
“Now, go. I have matters to which I must attend.”
“Yes, of course.” But still she made no movement toward the door.
“Is there something else?”
Clearly there was. He felt her confusion, the turmoil within her heart. He had no time for this.
“No, Weaver,” she said at last. She made a vain attempt at a smile and crossed to the door, hesitating once more as she gripped the handle.
She had been this way since killing Kayiv. It almost seemed that she had still harbored some affection for the man after all. He found himself thinking of Cresenne, of how her seduction of Grinsa jal Arriet had turned to love, rendering her useless to his movement, and then leading her to betray the cause entirely. Brilliant and strong as she was, she had also been terribly young to bear the burdens he had placed upon her. Much like Nitara. Too late, he had come to understand that matters of the heart were more difficult for the younger ones. He would have to take care that this one didn’t turn on him as well.
Matters of the heart. He walked to where she still stood, taking her hands in his and forcing her to meet his gaze.
“You’ve served me well these past several turns. You’ve done more in so short a time than many have done for me over the course of years. And I’m grateful.”
He could feel her trembling as she whispered, “I could do so much more.”
“Soon. We can’t allow ourselves to be distracted now, when we’re so close. But those things that would be distractions before victory will become rewards after. Do you understand?”
She managed a smile. “Yes, Weaver.”
“Excellent.” He kissed one of her hands, then the other, never taking his eyes off of hers. Her smile deepened and her cheeks shaded to scarlet. “Now go,” he said again.
One might have thought that he had commanded her to remove her clothes, so eager was she to obey.
“Yes, Weaver,” she said, pulling her hands free and hurrying from his chamber. Once in the corridor, she looked back at him one last time.
“We’ll speak again shortly,” he assured her, and closed his door.
He listened for the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway. Only when he was certain that she had gone did he pull out the fee accountings and begin to pore over them, making certain that there were no entries that would raise the suspicions of Harel’s master of arms. It took him the rest of the day to examine all the volumes-there were fourteen in all, and he didn’t close the last of them until well after the ringing of the twilight bells-but he was satisfied that they would reveal nothing of his movement to Uriad. A servant came to his door with supper, and the high chancellor ordered the boy to fetch the palace guards.
When the soldiers arrived, he had them remove the volumes from his chamber. They were of no use to him now; they were but reminders of Harel’s continued power over him. He didn’t want to have to look at them anymore.
“Take them to the master of arms,” he commanded. “He’s in charge of the fees from now on.”
The two soldiers began to carry the volumes off, though they could only carry a few of them at one time. “We’ll be back for the rest,” one of the men said, straining under the weight of three volumes.
“Yes, fine. Bring two more men with you when you return. I don’t want this taking all night.”
“Yes, High Chancellor.”
The soldiers returned a short time later with two more men, and together they removed what remained of the accountings. Dusaan stood near the window the entire time, staring out at the emerging stars and ignoring the guards. Long after they had gone, he remained there. His meal sat undisturbed on his writing table until some time later, when the servant returned and took it away.
Tihod needed to be informed that there would be no more gold, at least from this source. No doubt some gold remained in the merchant’s network, converted from imperial qinde to common currency so that it couldn’t be traced back to Dusaan, but not yet disbursed to the Weaver’s various underlings. Dusaan needed to know how much was left.
But first he needed to know that Tihod was still alive. He hadn’t spoken to his friend in nearly a turn, since the latter half of Amon’s waning. At that time Tihod had been on the Wethy Crown, tracking Grinsa, the Weaver who threatened all that Dusaan hoped to accomplish with his movement. Tihod had spoken of killing the man, or at least making the attempt, and though Dusaan had tried to dissuade him, though he had warned the merchant of how dangerous it was for any ordinary Qirsi to pit his powers against those of a Weaver, he had little doubt that Tihod had made the attempt anyway.
As a merchant, and a successful one, Tihod was often a difficult man to find. He conducted business all along the shores of the Forelands, from the Bay of Zahid, in Uulrann, to Sanbira’s southern coast and the Sea of Stars. There had been times in the past when Dusaan had reached for Tihod, intending to speak to the man through his dreams, only to discover that the merchant’s ship wasn’t where he had thought it would be. Since he couldn’t cast his mind over all the realms of the Forelands in search of a single man without exhausting even his considerable powers, they often went half a turn or more without speaking.
And perhaps that was the case this time as well. It might have been that Tihod had been forced by business matters to cut short his pursuit of Grinsa, return to his ship, and set sail for another port.
But Dusaan didn’t think so. Though he made himself search for the merchant once more, casting his mind eastward over the Strait of Wantrae and along the shores of Eibithar and Wethyrn and Sanbira, he knew that he would fail. If Tihod still lived, the Weaver would have found him by now. Dusaan didn’t want to give up what little hope he still grasped, but reason demanded that he do so. Tihod was dead. Grinsa had killed him. That was the only explanation that made any sense.
First this other Weaver had saved Tavis of Curgh from the dungeons of Kentigern, allowing Eibithar to avert a civil war Dusaan had worked for years to ignite. Then Grinsa had taken Cresenne from him, making her fall in love, turning her against the movement. And now he had killed Tihod, Dusaan’s most trusted friend, and the only man in the movement he could never replace.
He opened his eyes, breaking off his search for Tihod. “Enough,” he said to the darkness in his chamber.
Time after time the gleaner had thwarted him, and Dusaan had allowed it to happen, fearing that he might reveal too much of himself. But the time had come to put an end to this foolishness. Enough, indeed.
Chapter Sixteen
The Moorlands, north of the City of Kings, Eibithar
After their misadventure in the Glyndwr Highlands, they had no more time to waste. Grinsa knew that. No doubt the empire’s fleet had begun its assault on the Galdasten shores, and last he and Tavis had heard, the Aneirans were poised to strike at Kentigern. The gleaner felt certain that all of this was the Weaver’s doing, that this war was merely a prelude to a far more critical and perilous conflict. He had confided to the Curgh boy several turns ago that he was the only one capable of defeating the leader of the Qirsi conspiracy, and he still believed this to be true. What he had neglected to say to Tavis, what he was loath to admit to himself, was that he didn’t know for certain whether he could prevail in a contest of magic against this other Weaver. He knew only that his time was approaching. One way or another, he would learn soon enough. He needed to reach Galdasten as quickly as possible, to keep this burgeoning war from destroying the Forelands, and to convince the leaders of the Eandi armies that their true enemy had yet to show himself.