And then he remembered that Aliver had been with them. Tall and older, smart, confident, and a bit arrogant: everything it seemed a man should be. Oh, how Dariel felt tiny in his brother's shadow. That's the feeling that washed over him. Quick behind this flood of feeling came remembrance of the brief relationship they had rekindled as men on the battlefield of Talay. The emotion of it stopped his narration.
"Is something wrong?" Skylene asked.
Dariel fidgeted. "Yes. Many things are wrong. Can I have a break?"
"We've just begun-"
"I know. I'm sorry. I just started telling you about one thing and it brought to mind another."
"We have them only for an hour," Skylene said, gesturing toward the scribes, one of whom sat with pen poised, ready to continue. The other waited her turn, should the subject change to a different scroll. "Then they have to return to their work."
Dariel realized he did not recognize them. Perhaps they had been here before. Likely, they had, but in their silent roles they had no identity to him. Perhaps that was good. Because of it, it was easier for him to say, "I told you before about how my brother fought Maeander Mein. It was his great moment. I believe that, even though he died. Maybe it was great because he died. It's hard to explain.
"Everyone who knew him wished he never accepted the challenge. Certainly, the Mein would not have kept Maeander's pledge. In a way, it was a situation in which he could not win. So why do it? Why risk everything for nothing? That's what it seemed like to me at the time, and then when Aliver did die, it was both unbelievable and inevitable. I hated everything at that moment: Maeander and Hanish, the war, every soldier around us. Even Aliver himself. I hated that he had failed and left us. Left me. What I didn't tell you before was what I did in the moments after."
He noticed Skylene nod to the second scribe and knew from the different rhythm of the scratch of her pen that he was being recorded again. Okay, he thought. Let them have this in writing, too.
"Maeander killed my brother with a knife, following the rules the two of them had agreed upon. I swore-along with Aliver-to abide by the rules and honor the outcome. When I saw Aliver on the ground, and Maeander strolling away, so pleased with himself, I couldn't control myself. I hated him so much nothing else mattered. I said, just loud enough to be heard in the silence. 'Kill him.' When nobody obeyed me I shouted it. 'Kill him!' I ordered. Hear? I ordered it done."
He had been looking at his hands for a while but glanced up long enough to make sure Skylene understood him exactly. The scribe's pen scratched a little longer, and then stopped. Her eyes rose to look at him.
"So," he continued, kneading his hands together, "just like that, with a few words, I betrayed the honor my brother modeled for the world. I've always hated myself for that."
"He was an enemy commander," Skylene offered. "You just did what-"
"Aliver would never have done that. Honor is honor. It's not just honor when it suits you. He had agreed to terms, and so had I."
"I'm not sure I understand. Surely, Aliver did not think that the war would be decided between just two men? No matter what, it would have gone on, yes?"
"Yes."
"Then your actions changed nothing, except that you killed one of your enemy's leaders."
Dariel almost laughed. Sadly, he had told himself the same thing many times. Others had said it, too. There was truth in it, but there was also truth in the fact that both he and Aliver believed that people-especially those who led others-should be true to their word. Who knows? Maybe Maeander felt the same. Maybe he would have lived by the outcome of that duel. Dariel would never know because he had betrayed his honor. The irony of it was thick enough to swim in.
It was not just the irony that made him laugh. It was what Skylene had said about the truth having many heads but only one body. "Let's not debate this. We'll end up headless if we do."
The woman ridged her brow for a moment, perplexed, but then registered understanding. "You learn fast, Dariel."
"Not everyone would agree, but I try. And as soon as you start telling me things about Ushen Brae, I will be all ears. Is it time for that yet?"
Skylene thought for a moment. "That's up to Mor."
C HAPTER
When Rhrenna first brought her the missive, Corinn waved her away. Delivegu had been useful. He would be again, perhaps. And he had a carnal sensuality that parts of her-despite the fact that her intentionally cold facade showed no sign of it-had responded to. But that was before Grae had stepped in and so completely replaced the other man. Grae, with his square-jawed nobility and all the legitimately pleasing possibilities his nuptial overtures offered, a gentleman of noble birth who had proven himself of her class each day of his stay in the palace. Since, Delivegu had seemed even more like an anxious puppy. She had stopped reading his notes. For several weeks now Rhrenna had been discarding them without troubling the queen. If he did not desist, Corinn had decided, his yapping would have to be silenced more forcefully.
Rhrenna needed only to see the queen's expression to know her thoughts. In answer, she said, "Yes, I know. But you should read it just the same. I won't be the one who didn't deliver this to you."
Tiny threads of annoyance flared out from the corners of Corinn's eyes, one of the few places the passing years had begun to stake a claim. She took the note, snapped it open. She remarked at how brief it was, which was unusual for the Candovian. Your Majesty, I have captured your foe. I have Barad the Lesser and will deliver him to you shortly. Your loyal servant, D.
She let the note drop from her fingers, blowing air through her teeth. How bold-faced of him! She found no reason to believe such a claim. What was he playing at? Last she had heard, Delivegu had been sulking about the lower town's brothels, digging for secrets and doing whatever else pleasured him. Barad the Lesser, on the other hand, had eluded the empire for years, leaving scarcely any leads, a sort of phantom whom she might have doubted altogether if word of him had not been so consistent.
"Delivegu is a fool," Corinn said.
Rhrenna pressed her thin lips together, stern for a just a second, before laughing. "We both know that's not true, Your Majesty. He's many things, but a fool is not first among them."
"You credit this, then?"
"Doesn't matter if I do. I'm patient enough to wait until tomorrow morning." She held another folded letter, much the same as the first. "He sent me another, you see. A private message." She displayed both sides of it, as if thinking something through. She was not actually doing so, which was clear from the humor in her eyes. Shrugging, she tossed the note onto the queen's table. "But what's mine is yours, of course. Read it, if it pleases you."
She's gone as giddy as Mena with her lizard bird, Corinn thought. As giddy as me with my suitor…
She glanced down, but didn't reach for the letter. Was she growing lax? It had only been a few weeks since Mena and Grae both dropped into her court, but she already suspected she had missed things she would not have before. She had failed to note down a few slights, decided to ignore a suspicion or two so that they did not interfere with her mood. Was that foolish? Or was it time to take some joy in life again?