Iani all but choked with rage. "And Taquar allied himself with a monster such as this?"
"You have to admire his effrontery," Laisa said. "And it's not the worst thing he has done. Tell Iani about the bracelet you found, Jasper."
Jasper did look at her then. Her face was faultless, her eyes rimmed with cosmetics, her lips reddened. She appeared unaware of the enormity of what she was asking him to say. He had wanted to speak to Iani in his own time, if he had to, not like this. Not now, not in front of her. She cocked her head at him and raised a pencilled eyebrow, encouraging him to go on. Jasper found himself hating her.
He cleared his throat. "This may not be something you'd like to hear, Lord Iani." He dug into his belt pouch and drew out the bracelet. "I found this at the Scarcleft mother cistern, which is where Taquar was keeping me prisoner. There were clothes there, too, for a little girl." He handed him the bracelet and looked away, not wanting to see the expression on that ravaged face.
In the end, the prolonged silence of the rainlord forced him to look back. Senya was staring at the bracelet in a mixture of fascination and horror. Iani held it in hands that shook, and rubbed the name with fingers that trembled. His face was stark with pain. Jasper looked away.
"It is hers," the rainlord said at last, his voice so low Jasper had to strain to hear. "You are saying he took her? Because he wanted a stormlord?"
"I think so."
"What-what happened to her? What happened to my little Lyneth?"
"I don't know."
"Is she-is she-"
"If he still had her, he would not have needed me."
Another long silence, and then, in a whisper: "All those years, all those years of looking me in the face and pretending sympathy." He looked up from the bracelet, straight at Jasper. "How long did she live?"
"There were clothes there to fit a child of nine or ten."
"She wasn't yet six when she disappeared."
"I know."
Iani dragged in a deep breath and tried to still his shaking hands. "What-what do you think happened to her?"
"I don't know. He would not have hurt her or mistreated her physically, you know. He never mistreated me." He thought of a six-year-old child locked up at the mother cistern and repressed a shudder. Iani did not need to hear the details. "Her death would have been a disaster for his plans. An-an illness perhaps. There were other clothes there, too. For at least one adult woman. I suspect he had someone to look after her. Lyneth would not have been alone the way I was."
Laisa, who had continued to eat her meal, said between mouthfuls, "Of course, this is all speculation. I find it hard to believe that Taquar is capable of villainy such as that."
"Do you, my dear?" Nealrith said. "I don't find it hard at all."
Jasper looked up, startled. Too intent on their conversation, he had neither seen nor felt Nealrith enter.
"I will kill the bastard," Iani said. "Sunlord help me, I swear I will kill him!"
"Only if you are the first to get the opportunity," Nealrith said, sitting down next to him. "Before he is finished, there is going to be a long line of people wanting to effect his demise. I am sorry, my old friend. More sorry than I can say. We have all been blind."
"Perhaps you should have acted when Jasper first told us about all this," Laisa told her husband.
"And done what? Gone to war with another of our own cities? With a man supported by the Cloudmaster as Quartern heir, whose guards use ziggers when we have none?"
"What did Granthon say about Iani's news?" Laisa asked, pouring herself some more tea from the pot on the table. "Get me some more seeds, will you, Jasper?" He rose to do her bidding, bringing the cruet of resin seeds to the table from the sideboard. She sprinkled some on her drink, apparently oblivious to the emotional turmoil of those around her. Jasper, annoyed with himself, had to drag his eyes away from the sheer attractiveness of her languor. Senya watched him with a catlike stare.
"He says we cannot send guards to Qanatend," Nealrith said in answer.
Iani's head jerked up. "What?"
"He says it would leave Breccia City vulnerable to attack. And we don't have the numbers, anyway. He's right about that, Iani. By your own account, there were some seven or eight thousand tribesmen besieging Qanatend. We have barely thirty packpedes and thirty-five myriapedes at our disposal at the best of times, although we could seize those belonging to traders and individuals, I suppose. We have only five hundred permanent guardsmen. Father ordered me to send most of them to guard our mother cistern and the tunnel."
"Every man in Qanatend-and half the women and children-will fight. They were fighting when I left. What Qanatend needs now is rainlords!"
"I know, my friend. I know. But by the time we got there, the fighting would be over. You know that. Qanatend has probably already fallen."
Iani stood, knocking his chair over, and looked down on them all. "Do any of you know what it is like to abandon the groves outside your gates, which have been your city's life for fifty generations? Do you know what it is like to hear the ziggers coming over the city walls and know that they will not rest until they have found a victim? Do you know what it is like to feel you cannot sleep, because you are one of too few rainlords to defend your city? Moiqa knows! Then she had to watch while I fled for my life, pursued by Reduner warriors and too many ziggers to count. She can have no idea if I even survived."
Jasper stood and righted Iani's chair. The man sat down again, trembling, and added with a disturbing coldness, "I came across people caught outside the walls. People who had torn their own flesh trying to rip the ziggers out. People who had dropped in the midst of their tasks, dead. I saw a baby slaughtered in his mother's arms, with a zigger hole through his cheek. They like babies, you know. Because of the softness of their skin." He stopped and looked at the bracelet still clenched tight in his hand. "My poor, poor Lyneth. I couldn't find a way back into the city to help. I couldn't find my sweet Lyneth, either."
"And is Granthon at least going to stop all the storms to the Red Quarter now?" Laisa asked, sipping her tea.
Nealrith shook his head. "No. It would unite the rest of the tribes in opposition."
Iani cried out, his misshapen mouth distorting the words. "They are already united!"
"It doesn't matter which of you is right," Laisa said. "What is important is that having no water would kill the tribesmen, a favourable result for us, surely." Beside her, Senya's gaze flicked from speaker to speaker in fascinated interest.
"Not fast enough to save Qanatend. Or us," Nealrith said quietly. "They have supplies for months and would become more determined than ever to steal water from our cities. Thirst also kills the innocent. Granthon thinks to court the moderates and to use water supply as leverage. He wants to support the resistance under the leadership of Vara Redmane-"
For the first time, Laisa lost her calm. "Granthon is not fit to rule. He won't fight to save us, nor will he stop supplying water to our enemies! What shall we do: sit here and wait for them to come riding across the Sweepings to our walls?" She made a gesture of disgust. "Are there no men in your line, Nealrith?"
"Granthon has decided it is time to send a team of negotiators to Davim, to tell him we have Shale Flint. We will threaten to stop the storms to the Red Quarter unless they withdraw. When Davim discovers his unholy plot with Taquar is missing the most important element, he will be forced to obey. As long as we have Jasper, we are safe."
"Rubbish," Laisa spat at him. "What if Davim doesn't mind going back to random rain, as Jasper says? What if he comes in search of Jasper? We should at least send a couple of rainlords to assassinate this blighted sandmaster. Without its head, this unity of tribes may fall apart."
Nealrith didn't answer. Instead, he said, "All rainlords are going to be ordered to Breccia City."