And speaking of that—he should change the subject. Thinking of strategy and tactics would keep both of them from becoming too depressed by their personal thoughts. "Skan Mindspoke with Judeth and some of the others last night. Judeth is coming, along with nine of the Silvers, instead of the diplomatic experts that were originally supposed to join us."
She pondered that for a moment, tracing a pattern on the bed with her fingers. "That's not a bad idea, but I wish we dared have some mages among them. Well, it's not possible, since we don't dare offend Palisar; he's just marginally on our side at the moment, and if we had a mage—"
"He'd probably make up his mind that we'd somehow had the mage working the killings, and never mind what the Truthsayer said." At her nod, he felt a great deal of satisfaction in his reading of the third Advisor. "How does he feel about the Consort-To-Be?"
She laughed, but without real humor. "He'll put up with me, but only because this isn't real. He really doesn't like us very much. I think we disturb him."
"And I think I need a bath." Amberdrake rose, and headed for the bathroom, gesturing for her to follow. That was one place where they were sure to be left undisturbed even by servants. "I believe you are right," he said, as he slid out of his robe and lowered himself into the bath that had been prepared for him with a little shock at the feel of the cool water against his skin. The tub was sunk into the floor, and Winterhart sat next to the head of the tub to talk to him. These people preferred cool baths over hot; not surprising, given the climate. "Silver Veil told us that the Haighlei both crave and fear changes. I think Palisar is probably the representative of the Haighlei who are most afraid of change—and Leyuet represents those who are somewhere in the middle. The Emperor himself probably represents the Haighlei—the fewHaighlei—who would welcome changes."
"And Silver Veil?" she asked. "How does she fit into this pattern of change and denying change?"
"Silver Veil is change itself, but hiding within a changeless package." He was rather proud of himself for such a poetic simile, but she made a face and splashed water at him.
He shook the drops out of his eyes, ducked under the surface to rinse his hair, then came up with a new thought.
"I'd like to keep the real identities and purpose of our new 'diplomats' secret even to the Emperor," he continued, combing his clean hair with his fingers. "The only outsider I want to tell is Leyuet—since he's in charge of the Spears, we'll need him to cooperate with Judeth, and he'll have no reason to do that unless we tell him what she is."
Winterhart just shook her head and shrugged helplessly. "Whatever you and Skan decide is fine with me," she told him. "I'm out of my depth with all this skulking-about talk. The best I can do is keep up my part of the deception. You just tell me what you want me to say and do, and I will."
Good gods, am I becoming a leader? Surely not.
"Exactly as you have been doing." He tilted his head back in open invitation, and she leaned down and planted a warm and lingering kiss, sweet and bitter at the same time, on his lips. "I wonder if you know how remarkable you are," he breathed to her, as her lips left his.
"Oh, I know," she said, with a smile. "But only if you keep telling me."
"In that case," he said, as she reached down to him, ignoring the danger to her robe, and despite the fact that he was soaking wet, "I shall never stop."
They were all together in the gryphons' garden when Leyuet walked in on them with the stiff expression and gray cast around the lips that they had all come to associate with very bad news. This time, at least, he did not bring the Spears with him, but his face betrayed his thoughts, and they were as dark as his skin.
They stared at him in shocked silence for a moment. The sound of falling water seemed unnaturally loud.
Only one thing can have put that particular expression on his face.
"Oh, gods—" Amberdrake exclaimed. "Not another—"
He did not have to say anything more. Leyuet nodded grimly, and sat down in a carved wooden seat as if he were exhausted.
He probably is. This is very, very hard on him.
"We discovered it not long ago, but it happened last night, and I'm certain there will be more folk than I who will recall that Skandranon was flying at the time," the Truthsayer said through clenched teeth. "This is the insidious part; whoever is behind this must know where the two of you are at all times now, and makes the murder appear to be the work of the one without an alibi at that time. He must be learning from his mistake the first time."
"I would be surprised if he were not," Amberdrake said, and ran a hand through his hair. "Can I assume that our killer left evidence pointing to Skan?"
"Are marks of a gryphon's claw enough?" Leyuet countered, but now with an odd and ironic air of triumph. "This victim appeared to have been clawed to death by something that came in by way of the open door of the balcony."
He's holding back something,Amberdrake realized—but also realized that he should allow the man to reveal whatever it was in his own good time. One does not force the conjurer's hand. It isn't polite, and it spoils the trick for everyone, especially the conjurer.
"And Palisar isn't beating down our door?" Skan said in surprise—obviously the gryphon hadn't seen what Amberdrake had. "I am astonished! How have you kept him muzzled?"
"He kept himself muzzled," Leyuet told them, and fished in the capacious sleeve of his robe for something, the sleeves that every Haighlei seemed to use instead of pockets or pouches.
Ah. Now we have the moment of revelation.
He found whatever it was he was looking for, and held out a silk-wrapped trifle in triumph. Whatever it was, it was about the size of a human finger under the wrapping of black silk.
No one touched it, and Leyuet carefully undid the folds of silk from around it. The last fold fell away, revealing a bit of wood.
Very hard, dark wood from the look of it—and very skillfully carved into the shape of a gryphon's talon. By the rough bit ending the third "knuckle," there had been a weakness in the wood the carver hadn't noticed, and it had broken off.
"Well!" Amberdrake said, picking the thing up with a bit of silk between it and his fingers, and holding it up to the light. If there were any traces of the carver's identity still on it after contact with so much blood and pain, he didn't want to muddle them by leaving his own traces. "So Palisar is finally convinced?"
Odd. Something about the carving seemed familiar, but he just couldn't place it.
"He couldn't explain thataway," Leyuet countered, with a grim smile. "He's had temple mages on it, and so far they've found nothing, but he thinks the problem is with them and not the claw; you know how magic is these days. By evening their spells could suddenly go right again."
"Hmm." Amberdrake put the claw back in Leyuet's hand, wrapped again in the insulating silk. "Does anyone else know?"
Leyuet shook his head, and tucked the betraying bit of evidence away again. "Not even the temple mages; Palisar told them nothing. Only the King, the Advisors, and now you know where it was found."
This is important. This might be just what we've been hoping for."Suppress it," Amberdrake decided instantly. "Let it leak that the victim was clawed to death by something like a huge lion. It isn't going to hurt anything at this stage if Skan goes back on the list of suspects, and if he doesn't—then a rumor just might spread that I'm a mighty mage and can call up demonic creatures to murder my enemies at a distance." He smiled grimly himself. "The latter rumor might help keep me in one piece. If people think I can call up demons, they may think twice about attacking me on their own."