Harlmut picked one of them up and held the blade to the light. A greasy gray liquid covered the blade … it had been coated with something, some poison. Mari had been right.
“Cut him down,” he said to his men. “Take the body outside the city and burn it.”
“Such a shame …” Haltengabben said.
“It’s suicide, then,” he said, looking at her.
She met his gaze unflinchingly. “So it would seem.”
“I trust you won’t allow this sort of visitor in the Temple of Ela again.”
“Of course not,” she said. “I have no idea how he could have gotten in here. His credentials must have been forged.”
“Of course.” Harlmut stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably. “Come to the castle this evening,” he said firmly. “I think it’s time we spoke. I’ll have dinner prepared for just the two of us.”
“Very well,” she said. “I am honored, Harlmut.”
After Harlmut left, Haltengabben stormed into her office and slammed the door. She felt like hurting someone. Very carefully, she controlled her rage.
He’d cost her a very expensive assassin. She’d have to make reparations to the Grevesmühl branch of the Temple of Ela to compensate for their loss.
He’d been sloppy. He’d almost been caught, and he’d led them to her. If he’d talked … she didn’t take chances. She’d had to kill him.
Dinner tonight … she could imagine what Harlmut wanted. Her support never came cheaply. But with Bowspear gone, it couldn’t hurt to listen to what he had to say.
Eighteen
Bowspear’s arms ached. He shifted, trying to relieve the pain in his wrists and shoulders, but the movement made things only worse. Groaning, he tried to catch his breath.
He’d been left hanging here for what felt like hours. Several times the pain had grown so intense that he’d blacked out.
Now, he opened his eyes to find the Hag standing before him. The masses of serpents that made up the lower half of her body writhed and undulated and hissed. He moaned in pain and fear.
“Pretty-pretty, what lovely skin you have,” the Hag said, reaching out and caressing his cheek again.
He tried to pull away, but she seized his head with both hands and stared deeply into his eyes. Bowspear felt a cold shock run through him. He began to tremble all over.
Slowly she brought her face close to his, and then she licked him very gently on the tip of his nose.
He shuddered. “What do you want?” he whispered.
“The truth, pretty-pretty.” She released him. Slowly he began to turn on the chain before her. She showed him the Eye of Vadakkar. “What brings you through the goblin mountains armed with a trinket such as this?”
“I came to kill Orin Hawk,” he said.
She cackled as if this were the funniest thing she had ever heard. “Kill my pretty boy? Why?”
He hesitated. Perhaps he could bargain with her. The information had to be worth something to her, perhaps even his life.
“Release me, and I’ll tell you,” he said, trying to sound bold.
“I have a better idea,” she said, catching him and looking into his eyes. Her pupils seemed to grow larger, peering into his soul. “You will tell me everything, because you love me.”
“I… love … you …” he felt himself whispering.
He blinked, and suddenly it was true. He realized he loved her more deeply than he had ever loved anything or anyone in his life. Her face … her hair … her eyes … even the serpents that made up the lower half of her body … He had never seen anyone more gorgeous. He loved her. He wanted her for his own.
He tried to reach for her and found his arms caught in chains. Struggling against them only made him spin more quickly. Why didn’t she let him down? Couldn’t she see how he loved her? He longed to rush to her, to hug her to him, to possess her and never let her go.
“There, there, my pretty,” she crooned. Softly she stroked his hair. “Tell me all you know, and I’ll release you.”
Quickly, eagerly, he told her everything: about the wizard who’d come to Grabentod, about Harlmut’s mad plans to save Orin Hawk and bargain for the release of King Graben.
Then he told her how he longed to rule Grabentod himself. “I’ll make you my queen when I have the throne,” he promised. He could see it all in his mind, “We’ll rule together—”
“All you would-be princelings say that,” she said wryly. “I could be a queen twenty times over, if promises came true!”
Rising, she headed for the mouth of her cave.
“Wait!” Bowspear called after her. “Release me! I love you! I love you—”
“If promises came true …” She gave another cackle, then was gone.
Bowspear began to weep.
Candabraxis woke in pain. His whole body seemed to be on fire. He struggled to sit up.
“Lie back!” an old woman’s voice said.
He tried to focus on her. “I must—”
“You must sleep.” She pressed what felt like a cup to his lips, and he found himself gulping a sweet-smelling broth of some kind.
Almost at once he felt himself drifting away. Everything had a fuzzy look.
“Sleep,” the old woman said again. “Sleep …”
Harlmut had an elegant table set for two that evening in one of Castle Graben’s smaller dining rooms. He stood in the doorway, surveying the fine Anuirean bone china, the gold forks, spoons, knives, goblets, and finger bowls, the intricate lace tablecloth and napkins. Yes, he thought, this would certainly do for entertaining Haltengabben. It was more than she deserved.
At seven o’clock, the high priestess arrived with a small retinue. Harlmut met her and ran through all the tedious formalities, then escorted Haltengabben in to their meal.
“Your people can eat in the kitchens,” he told her. If she noticed the implied insult, she made no sign of it.
“This is the first time you’ve invited me to dine with you,” she commented as he seated her at one end of the long table. “I had begun to think you might be avoiding me, Harlmut.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I am not the king, and I have no desire to rule Grabentod. Necessity has forced this position on me. I hold no more banquets or celebrations than the court demands, and I entertain no one myself … until now, that is.”
She raised her elegantly plucked eyebrows slightly. “Ah? And why do I deserve such an honor?”
He took a chilled bottle of Anuirean summer wine and filled her crystal goblet. “Why do you think?” he asked.
“Perhaps … to eliminate one you mistakenly perceive as a rival for the throne?”
She smelled the wine, tasted it gently with her tongue, then set it down. Harlmut frowned a little. Did she think him a common poisoner? If he had wanted her dead, it could have been accomplished far more quickly and far more subtly. She wasn’t the only one, after all, with connections to assassins. King Graben had several times removed troublesome relatives and ambitious captains like Bowspear, and Harlmut had acted as go-between on each occasion.
“I wish to strengthen the ties between the Temple of Ela and the king,” Harlmut said firmly. “I fear they may have become … shall we say, frayed?”
“How so?”
“May I speak openly?”
“It would be a pleasant change,” she admitted.
“The world is overfull of subterfuge in these troubled days.”
Harlmut leaned on the table. “I know you and Bowspear have conspired to seize the throne,” he said.
Quickly Haltengabben murmured her denial.
“No, let me finish,” he went on. “I also know that Bowspear has gone to prevent Captain Evann from retrieving Orin Hawk from his accursed servitude to the Hag. And I know that you equipped him with certain, ah, magical protections to help him in this task.”