There was motion in the chamber below them. Four Marah guards entered the room, each with their hands crossed and holding the hilt of both short and long swords, ready to draw. They squared off around the empty chair, facing it. A moment later a giant of a man entered. Hands secured behind his back, he had to dip his head beneath the door frame. He paused just inside the room and stood for a moment taking measure of the space. His clothes hung ragged about him, soiled. One sleeve had torn at the shoulder. After looking around the room for a moment, he raised his head and glanced straight up at the glass through which the mother and son watched.
Corinn spoke a bit hurriedly and perhaps to reassure herself as much as Aaden. "He cannot see us."
The boy said, "He looks like a peasant. A big one, but still a peasant."
Another guard blocked the doorway behind the prisoner. He shoved him forward with a free hand, the other on the hilt of his short sword. The guard directed him to sit in the chair, and then walked around before him and said something the watchers could not hear.
"So, if we assume that this man is a danger to us, what do we do with him?"
Aaden sat silently thinking for a long time. Corinn thought for the millionth time how much she loved this boy. How was it possible to love so completely and to remember it again and again every day?
"Doesn't that depend on how he is a danger? What he is threatening to do and how?" Aaden finally said.
"Yes, those are things to consider. He is a danger because he has a gift for oratory. He is one of the people; and when he speaks to them, he makes them believe that all their grievances are caused by us. They're not, of course. We expect much from our subjects. In return we give them the stability of a prosperous nation. Commoners rarely understand that, and they forget it when a man like this comes into their midst. So his danger is that he blends together a host of grievances and directs it at one target-the Akaran line. At you, Aaden. What is he threatening to do? Destroy us. He believes his peasants could do better at governing the world than we. Or he believes that he will be empowered by our downfall. I'm not sure which. Either way, he would see me deposed. Likely killed after some mockery of a trial. So what do we do with him?"
"We stop him from talking?"
"Perhaps, but that would not undo the things he has said and the emotions he has stirred. What is better than silencing him?"
"If he must talk… we should have him say what we want him to, instead of what we don't."
A smile slowly bloomed on Corinn's face. The answer did not surprise her-she had thought of it herself already-but it did please her. She reached out and mussed his hair and said, "Clever boy."
Aaden accepted the praise with a shrug.
"You may go now," Corinn said. "I'll tell you later what this criminal had to say for himself."
But Aaden had more on his mind. "Grae said he would go riding with me tomorrow, all the way out to Haven's Rock. He claims he has a fishing line long enough to reach the water from the top. There's no way that's possible. He must be joking! I can go, can't I?"
"You like Grae, don't you?" Corinn asked, trying to make the question sound light and casual. "You've spent even more time with him than I have."
"He fenced with me. Not like the others but steel to steel. I could've gotten cut." The prospect of this seemed to delight the boy.
"Is that so?" Corinn raised an eyebrow. This was not actually news to her. Very little that Aaden did went unreported to her. For that matter, very little that Grae did during the last few weeks escaped her either. She knew what Aaden did not mention about this sparring: that the blades they used were light, with no edge at all. Grae could certainly have hurt him nonetheless, but ten pairs of Marah eyes had been pinned to him the entire time, ready to repay any injury with a quick death. Corinn asked, "Don't you think that's dangerous?"
"No. Not really. He said I was quicker than him. Quicker than he ever was, he said." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "He wouldn't hurt me, anyway. He likes me."
"Of course he wouldn't," Corinn said. "And of course he does."
Aaden's delay in leaving meant that he was still in the hallway when Rhrenna led Delivegu into the viewing area. After the formalities of greeting the queen were seen to, the Candovian said, "Your son looks more like Hanish Mein every day." He motioned toward the corridor to explain the comment's origins.
Corinn eyed him a moment, deciding how severe to be with him. At a glance he was just as elaborately garbed as ever, his shirt brilliantly white, his black breeches tight enough that they seemed to have shrunk to fit his form. The hoops of his gold earrings sparkled, and he wore bracelets on one wrist that clanged together as he moved. But for all the gaudy finery, his face did not betray his usual arrogance. Perhaps his time out of favor had mellowed him.
"You knew Hanish Mein?" Corinn asked.
"To look at, yes. Only to look at. He didn't know me, but he was hard to miss when he had the reins of power. I liked his style." As an afterthought, he added, "Then, I guess you did, too."
Or perhaps it had not mellowed him, Corinn thought. She was unsure as yet. She ordered him to explain his claim and document the identity of the man sitting in the room below them. Delivegu did so readily enough. He explained that he had gained intelligence that led him to a certain commoner's message service. There he had intercepted a message meant for the rascal. He hurriedly transported himself to the message's destination. It was a gamble, a considerable personal expense, but it paid off. He did spot the man. He spied on him long enough to satisfy himself of his identity, and then he decided on a way to capture him.
"How did you do that?"
Delivegu shrugged and looked the closest he could to sheepish. "I'm not proud when it comes to such matters. I came up behind him when he was fumbling with the keys to unlock his rented room. I hit his head with a club."
"Without warning?"
"Of course. How better to do it? And lucky I did, for he didn't go down from that one blow. He turned and reached for me. I needed to hit him twice more before he dropped to his knees. Then he was easier to deal with. A bit, at least."
"How did you know it was Barad?"
"Before I approached him, I questioned an acquaintance of his. A young man with, I daresay, insufficient resilience to resist me."
"This initial information you gained-that which took you to the message service-how was that come by?"
Delivegu cleared his throat. "I have something to report that you may find disturbing." He paused, brow furrowed in an expression of consternation that looked odd. "I wished you to know the other details first, but this part cannot be avoided. You're right to ask. Hear me through, please, before you respond."
Corinn kept her eyes fixed on him as he proceeded. She kept them pinned to his features, focused first on his face as a whole and then on its smaller components: the crook of his nose, the motion of lips, the black hairs of his beard. The focus was necessary, for otherwise she feared she would betray the fact that her heart pounded at twice the rate it had a moment before. She would not even look at Rhrenna, who was hearing the news with her. She knew her face had flushed red, but her expression remained unchanged. Alleys and spying. Following a servant… What he was telling her was-
"As you can imagine, I had to be quite rough with Barad. He's a big man, you see, so I had to be careful. Anyway, he was a little bit out of it, and he asked me, 'Did he betray me to her?' I had explained to him that I was in your employ. When he asked, I almost asked him, 'Who?' The word was on my tongue, but I snipped it." Delivegu demonstrated just how precisely he did so by making scissors of his fingers. "Instead, I said, 'Of course, he betrayed you. He's royalty after all. Why would he side with commoners?' I said this to provoke confusion or disagreement or something. But he responded with none of those. He simply accepted it sadly.