Abeni ja Krenta, archminister to the queen of Sanbira, was a traitor. Diani wanted to shout this at the top of her voice, she wanted to brand the woman as such with hot irons. But she hadn’t the proof.
Ean knew that it wasn’t for lack of trying-she and her father had searched Castle Yserne time and again for any sign that the archminister had joined cause with the renegades, and Diani had hardly allowed the woman out of her sight since they left the royal city. Thus far, she had found nothing. She would have liked to listen to Abeni’s conversation with Macharzo’s first minister that morning, as they stood at the edge of the steppe. For that matter, she would also have been interested to know what the first ministers of Norinde and Brugaosa discussed as they walked off on their own. As far as the duchess was concerned, they were all traitors until they proved their fealty. Her father would have scoffed at her suspicions, seeing in them the rash prejudice of a child. Olesya would have felt the same way. So, Diani didn’t speak to anyone of her suspicions. She needed evidence, and though Abeni had been uncommonly clever thus far, Diani remained convinced that she could not conceal her treachery much longer.
The ride down the face of the Caerissan Steppe consumed much of the day. The distance wasn’t great, but the steepness of the path at times forced the riders to dismount and lead their horses on foot. With Raven Falls thundering nearby, filling the air with a fine, cool mist and the soft, sweet scent of lush ferns and mosses, the day never grew too hot. But even for an experienced rider like Diani, the descent was exhausting.
When at last they reached the base of the slope, her back and legs were aching, and her riding clothes were soaked with sweat. At the bottom of the steppe they turned eastward, riding to the banks of Binthar’s Wash. There they made camp, though nightfall was still some time off. This close to the bottom of Raven Falls, the river churned and frothed like some great beast, its wild waters reflecting the brilliant golden light of the late-day sun. Diani could see the famed walls of Eibithar’s City of Kings in the distance, also bathed in the sun’s glow, and she wondered briefly if they would stop there before continuing on to the Moorlands. It made no sense to do so, she knew, but she had always dreamed of seeing Audun’s Castle.
After unsaddling her horse, she returned to where the queen was speaking with her master of arms. Diani had long since decided that even if she couldn’t convince Olesya that her archminister was a traitor, she could do everything in her power to make certain that the queen came to no harm. She rarely let Olesya out of her sight and had privately vowed that she would give her own life before she allowed the conspiracy to strike at Sanbira’s queen.
Diani nodded once to Ohan before facing the queen. “The soldiers are making camp, Your Highness. The captains tell me that we have ample stores to see us through the rest of the journey, but a few of the archers have gone back up the slope to hunt for supper. I didn’t see anything wrong with this, so I told them to carry on.”
Olesya gave an indulgent smile, reminding Diani of her own mother. “That’s fine, Lady Curlinte. Thank you.”
“Is there anything I can do for you, Your Highness?”
“No, thank you. The master of arms and I are going to walk back to the base of the falls. I’ve never been so close to them, and have heard about them all my life.”
“Of course, Your Highness. That sounds very nice.” Diani continued to stand there, waiting for the queen to lead the way.
“Actually, we intended to go alone.”
The duchess blinked, then glanced at the master of arms. Ohan was blushing to the tips of his ears, his dark eyes fixed on the ground. He was tall and lean, with the shoulders and chest of a warrior, but at that moment he resembled nothing so much as a shy boy. Quite suddenly Diani understood that Ohan and the queen were in love, or close to it. The young duchess, her own cheeks growing hot, stared at the queen, who gazed back at her placidly.
“But, Your Highness, it could be dangerous.” She wasn’t quite sure what she was warning Olesya against, but still she forged on. “I believe it would be best if I accompanied you-”
“Diani, think for a moment. Don’t you think that Ohan is capable of protecting me? He is, after all, the finest swordsman in the land.”
“With the possible exception of your father,” the master of arms added hastily.
“Of course, but-”
“Rest, Diani. Go find Naditia. She’s been riding with Edamo and Alao all day. I’m sure she’d be grateful for your company.”
The duchess looked away, feeling foolish. “Yes, Your Highness. Enjoy your walk.”
“Thank you. We will.”
The two of them strolled off, leaving Diani alone with her embarrassment. After standing there for several moments, she decided that she would seek out the duchess of Macharzo as Olesya had suggested. She and Naditia had never been close, but if Diani had been forced to spend the entire day with the dukes of Norinde and Brugaosa, she would have been grateful for any companionship at all. She had just started walking in Naditia’s direction, however, when she saw Abeni speaking with one of the other Qirsi. As she drew nearer to them, she realized that it was Macharzo’s first minister. It was perfect-just the excuse she needed to intrude.
She walked to where they stood, noting that they fell silent at her approach.
“Forgive the interruption, Archminister, but I was wondering if the first minister could tell me where I might find her duchess.”
“You’re not interrupting at all, my lady,” Abeni said pleasantly.
But the other woman regarded her cautiously, overlarge yellow eyes staring out from a small, thin face, so that she looked more like a waif than a minister.
“I believe she’s down beside the river, my lady,” the first minister said at last. “That’s where I saw her last.”
“Thank you.” Diani faced Abeni again, scouring her mind for anything that she might say to prolong their conversation and learn what the two women had been discussing.
“Is there anything else, my lady?” the archminister asked, eyeing Diani as if she thought the duchess simple.
“Actually,” she said, “I’ve been wondering if you’ve given any more thought to the questions my father and I asked you while we were still in Yserne.”
She sensed the woman’s annoyance. “You mean about traitors in the queen’s court?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid, my lady, that I have little more to tell you than I did the last time we spoke of this. After Kreazur’s death, I tried to think of who in Yserne might have been working with him, but I hadn’t cause to suspect any of the Qirsi in our court. That hasn’t changed.”
“A pity.” She glanced at the other woman. “And you, First Minister?”
“My lady?”
“Well, surely you’ve heard of the attacks on me, and the death of my first minister.”
The minister nodded, her expression revealing little. “Yes, I did, my lady. I was horrified, as was all of Macharzo.”
“I’m sure. And since then, has anything happened to make you question the loyalty of the Qirsi in your duchess’s castle?”
“No, my lady. But then, that’s not my way.”
Diani narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
The woman faltered. “Nothing, my lady,” she said, shaking her head. “Forgive me. I should have simply answered your question and left it at that.”
“But you didn’t. And I want to know what you meant.”
The minister glanced at Abeni, but the archminister was staring at the ground, her lips pursed. “It just seems to me that you’ve allowed the treachery of one minister to color your perceptions of all Qirsi. I wouldn’t do that.”