by Kate Elliott
“That’s right. When I was here last year you had begun housing a few in the second workshop.”
“Yes, away from the main courtyard. We prefer them not to mix with the family.”
“How did this sad turn of fortune’s wheel come about, Belon? The clan’s carving is still first-rate. Circles used to be the most popular game in Toskala because King Anjihosh played it.”
“That was quite some time ago. No one in the palace plays Circles now. They play games brought from the empire. We were fortunate that when Queen Dia first came here she took a fancy to our carving and had us fashion hair ornaments and curtain pulls. That kept us prosperous for many years. But suddenly last year Queen Chorannah let it be known that anyone who wanted her favor should not follow any of Queen Dia’s fashions. Now people are afraid to purchase our wares.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“We’ll come about, Uncle. We’re trying out some new carvings for decorative brooches and door amulets, things not tied to palace favor. The thing is that taxes have been raised again, so we need the extra coin from boarders just to pay our quarterly license fee.”
Kellas looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “Is there some specific reason you didn’t send one of your own boys with the message?”
Belon glanced away with a shame-filled flicker of his eyes. “I sent the lad, Karladas, because he is always happy to run errands and deliveries to make a few extra vey. But the truth is, the city isn’t as safe as it used to be. Wolf Quarter is especially bad.”
Kellas scratched his head. “More crime?”
“Maybe a bit but it isn’t crime we worry about. Young men get arrested right off the streets by Beltak priests. The priests will claim a lad has broken some holy law and next thing you know he’s sent off on a work gang. Our neighbor’s son vanished six months ago when he was out carousing one night in Wolf Quarter. They’ve never heard where he was sent.” His eyes flared. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you…”
“No, of course not.” Kellas hated the fear in his nephew’s usually placid face. Belon was a good man who was proud to call Kel his uncle and went out of his way to treat him with proper familial obligation. “I’m aware of the activities of the Beltak priests, but surely they only take criminals to the work gangs.”
“They can take who they want if there’s no one to say they didn’t catch the lad doing something wrong. Anyone who argues against them is charged with blasphemy and ends up in a work gang as well.”
Kellas frowned. “That’s troubling news. We’ve not had that problem in Mar.”
Belon dropped his voice to a whisper, as if he was afraid the priests could overhear through magic. “People say they are cracking down in the cities first and then they mean to spread their Beltak law. They’re using the prisoners to build new shrines all over.”
“Nothing I can do about that,” said Kellas, careful to keep his tone bland as he filed the information away to send back to Salya in his first dispatch. “But maybe I can find the boy. Describe Karladas.”
“North country boy, from the high valley of Amat. A sweet lad, everyone’s favorite. He came here with his older brother. Adiki is hot-tempered, a real brawler and constantly in fights, but he’s devoted to his brother, which is the only reason we let him stay.”
Memory sifted to reveal faces and names. “I recall Karladas. A good-looking boy. Born in the Year of the Blue Lion. The two lads had come in from the country about the time I left last year.”
“Heya!” Belon chuckled as his expression eased. “You never forget a thing, do you, Uncle?”
Kellas trawled deeper into the memory. “I remember because I met young Karladas at the compound gate the night before I returned to Salya. The boy saw my novice’s ink and told me he had wished to dedicate himself to Ilu’s service but his clan could not afford the dedicatory offering. That’s why he and his brother came to the city. They planned to earn enough money so Adiki can raise a marriage portion and Karladas can take his envoy’s oath.”
“How can you recall all that, from a year ago, from one conversation?”
Kellas shrugged. “Merchants need a good memory to sort through inventory. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that my mother dedicated me to the temple of Ilu when I was fourteen. I spent all my days there wanting nothing more than to escape. So you can imagine how struck I was when the boy confided that he wanted the very thing I had so desperately wished to escape at his age.”
“Can you find him?”
“I’ll ask around.”
Belon let out a troubled sigh. “Be careful, Uncle. Sheh! That things have come to this! Young folk abducted off the streets for no more crime than having no work and being angry about it. Eiya! Meanwhile, let us sit down to porridge and redberry juice and be grateful for our own good fortune.”
Although Kellas smiled and chatted with the family as he shared the morning meal, he left as soon as politeness allowed. The young man named Adiki followed him out the compound gate, his north country accent marking him every time he opened his mouth.
“What comes of my brother? Where has he fallen to? Can you find him? Was it the outlander priests who stole him?” His words rattled down on Kellas like stone, drawing attention from passersby.
Kellas had never had trouble stopping young men with his gaze alone. “I have no authority here except age. Get yourself into trouble by speaking disrespectfully of the Beltak priests and you will find yourself in a work gang far from here. Do you understand me? Because you had better understand me and let me know right now that you do.”
Adiki was not much older than Fohiono, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scarred chin and a badly healed broken nose. He had a scrapper’s belligerent stance, and brilliant eyes, and no ability to back down gracefully. “I promised the family I should look out for the boy! They feared at his coming here. He has too friendly a heart, ver. Please.”
Kellas did not let his expression soften. “I will ask around. You must be patient.”
The young man paced two steps back and one forward and finally turned his right hand palm up in the gesture of acquiescence. Kellas answered with the hand gesture it will be what it will be. Adiki’s shoulders tensed with impatience.
Kellas gnawed on the problem all the way to Wolf Quarter and was still chewing through his options as he walked up to a modest storefront situated on Withering Square. Once a temple dedicated to Taru the Witherer had run along one entire side of the square but it had been replaced by a grain, vegetable, and herb market. The comings and goings of traders made the square a fruitful exchange point to pick up gossip and rumor in the city. That was why Plum Blossom Clan kept a clerk stationed here year-round behind a door banner marked with a five-petaled blossom. The clerk and his family who lived here sold from an inventory of unusual goods from overseas, but really they worked as scouts feeding information back to Kellas.
He stepped off the street onto the raised porch. The small gate that opened into the side courtyard was closed, odd at this time of the morning. On the upper story, the bamboo blinds were drawn down to conceal the balcony. Usually the family would be awake and about but he heard silence instead of the usual daily chatter and clatter. Something was wrong.
He took off his sandals so anyone on the street would not see him doing anything out of the ordinary. Hand hovering by his sheathed knife, he took a cautious step past the entry banners and onto the mats that floored the public customers’ room. To his left the doors that opened onto the side porch, courtyard, hearth, and stairs were still closed although normally at this time of day they would be open. The door into the private office was partially open when it ought to be closed. A soldier stood in the center of the small room, his features obscured by the dimness.
“Oyard?” He slid his knife half out of its sheath. “What in the hells means this lurking?”
“Is that any way to greet me, Captain Kellas?”
Kellas went utterly still, absorbing the surprise. King Jehosh
was wearing soldier’s garb, not palace finery. A leather helmet with cheek guards sat on the mat at his feet.
“King Jehosh, this is an unexpected honor.”
“I have surprised you. I confess that pleases me. I sent your factor for a pot of tea. Wasn’t he cashiered out of the Wolves at the same time you were, for failing to protect my father?”
“Chief Oyard is a loyal man who was found blameless in the matter. He is also a good soldier who took a severe injury that day in defense of King Atani. He has been in my private employ ever since, as you surely know.”
Uneasiness crawled through his flesh. What if the convoluted safeguards with which Plum Blossom Clan guarded their privacy had broken down?
He took a turn around the office but there was nothing out of place: ledgers stacked neatly on shelves, two lockboxes, writing paraphernalia, his city clothes packed away in paper, four cases of inventory, and a stack of cushions embroidered with ibexes leaping and running. Jehosh turned a slow circle, never letting Kellas get behind his back.
“I haven’t stolen anything,” Jehosh remarked, sounding amused.
“Old habit, my lord. I always scout my territory.”
“Before you move in for the kill?”
Cursed if he was going to let Jehosh rile him over Atani’s death. “Killing is usually the last and worst solution to a problem. Did you set an agent to watch my clan’s compound? You and I made an agreement that if I retired quietly, you would leave my people alone.”
“I have left your people alone, Captain. Now I want you to come back.”
He halted before the king. “I no longer serve the palace, my lord.”
“If you serve the Hundred, then you serve me, as its king.”
“You personally disbanded the Black Wolves, my lord. There was no reason for you to trust me after such a devastating blow. I would have done the same in your situation. Had I been you, I would have appointed new people, ones I hoped would serve me better.”
“I thought I had done so but now I realize I was mistaken.”
The side door to the public room slid open. Kellas hurried to take the tea tray. Oyard swayed back, surprised to see Kellas, then recovered himself, retreated, and closed the door.
Kellas carried the tray into his office. Oyard had brought a teapot, a platter of sliced cucumber and ginger, fried shaved coconut, and several boiled eggs still in the shell. There was only a single cup. Kellas poured tea and offered Jehosh the cup, but the king waved it away.
“I need a man I trust inside the palace,” said the king.
“That is what the Spears are for, Your Highness.”
“I believe Chorannah has emptied her treasury by bribing the senior officers in my Spears to her cause.”
“That is a strong claim.”
“She would have corrupted the entire upper palace but she ran out of coin. However, the officials know Farihosh will succeed me. Now they are just waiting for me to die, at which point my son will control the Hundred’s finances.”
“That’s taking a very long view, if I may say so, my lord. You are only forty-three. You can expect to live many more years, if fortune favors you.”
Jehosh’s right hand clenched into a fist. “As long as I do not interfere with Chorannah and her plans. To think I despised her as a weakling all these years. She means to steal the kingship from me in all but title, and she’ll take that, too, if I do not go along with what she wants.”
The words fell out before he knew it. “Can you not kill her, Your Highness?”
Four steps brought the king right up to Kellas, chest-to-chest. They were of a height, but Jehosh was a hale man in his prime while Kellas, though still fit and solid, was old. Twenty years ago he could have taken Jehosh in a direct fight, but only stealth and cunning would save him now if they came to blows.
“Have her killed? How like you to suggest it, Captain. I suppose it is exactly what King Anjihosh had done to anyone who crossed him. If you think of a way to manage it that will not drop the priests, my senior officials, and her sons on my head, then I urge you to act swiftly.”
“That is a harsh indictment of Queen Chorannah, my lord.”
“Perhaps if I had treated Chorannah with more affection she might not have raised her sons as my rivals.”
It is you who sees everyone as a rival, Kellas thought, but he merely nodded.
Jehosh nodded in reply. “I want to make you supreme captain of the King’s Spears.”
Kellas wanted to say, That is impossible, Your Highness. He wanted to go home and go fishing with his granddaughters and sit quietly in the garden with his beloved wife, but that very beloved wife had given him his orders and so he held his tongue and waited as Jehosh went on.
“I need a man who can protect Dia’s son, Kasad. I need a man who can discover what conspiracies are being whispered against me in the upper palace and expose them. I also need a competent man to find out what happened to my aunt Sadah. Aunt Dannarah will have told you the situation with the empire’s succession dispute.”
“She mentioned it.”
“Sadah and her guardsmen embarked on a merchant’s barge headed for Nessumara. Two days later agents boarded the barge at the Ili Toll Station but no trace of her could be found. Agents backtracked along the river but discovered nothing.”
“It seems unlikely she could have left the barge without being traced. Not if your agents are thorough and know what they are doing.”
“I’ve long suspected Ulyar is incompetent. The other possibility is that Chorannah found out about her and had her killed in order to support this ill-considered alliance with her sister to maintain her sister’s feeble son on a throne he cannot possibly hope to hold on to.”
Kellas decided to be rude and, still standing, drained the cup of tea by now too cool to be savored. “May I make a suggestion, Your Highness?”
Jehosh’s mocking smile flashed and faded. “That is why I sent for you, is it not?”
“Do not alter the arrangements in the upper palace. Appoint me as your chief of security in the lower palace. If people believe Queen Chorannah remains hostile to Queen Dia, placing me in charge of lower palace security would be an obvious gesture on your part. It allows people to believe you are solely concerned about Dia and Kasad’s safety.”
“That will do.” Uncannily Jehosh had barely moved for the entire conversation. Kellas remembered him as a restless young man, always pacing or shifting or stamping. “Which leaves me with one question, Captain. I dismissed you most brutally, after my father’s death. I blamed you, and I let the palace and the army blame you. Why serve me now?”
In his years as a Black Wolf running clandestine missions, Kellas had learned an important lesson about working undercover: Always tell the truth when you can. Even if not the whole truth.
“My duty to your father still rules me. He commanded me to guard the Hundred, and so I will.”
The gate rattled. In the silence Kellas heard Oyard’s distinctive limp as he went over to open it. Men entered the side courtyard, one whistling a tune Kellas did not recognize.
“Here he is,” said the king, stepping away from Kellas.
Oyard’s voice lifted. “My lord Vanas. This is an unexpected honor.”
Kellas slid the office screen open. Lord Vanas crossed the mats of the audience chamber. The same age as Jehosh, he had a vigorous stride and, so it was rumored, an eye quick to identify anyone who might be offered a privilege or honor he hadn’t yet obtained.
Jehosh said, “Vanas, delegate men to assist the captain in moving into the gatehouse of the lower palace. Captain Kellas will be taking over as chief of security.”
Vanas took in a breath, let it out, then nodded. “The lower palace. I will leave a cadre to escort you, Captain Kellas.”
Jehosh fitted the helmet over his head and, just another ordinary soldier in a lord’s household, departed with Vanas’s entourage.
The hells! How often had Jehosh and Vanas played that game?
/> He wondered if Jehosh ran off to fight the Eldim rebels so he could pretend to be an ordinary soldier instead of a king.
He went out to the side courtyard. Eight soldiers stood at attention, waiting for orders under the stern eye of Oyard.
A woman came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth. Moon-faced Yero with the red lips and the wary eyes was twenty-five years younger than Oyard. He had found her one night in Wolf Quarter, starving and holding on to a sickly baby who had died soon after. After nursing her back to health, Oyard had, with Kellas’s permission, married her. A safe home and regular meals had allowed her to bloom. She had proven capable and trustworthy, an excellent cook and housekeeper, and startlingly effective at sorting useful marketplace rumor from idle gossip.
“If we are moving house I have a few questions, Captain,” she said as calmly as if the king had not just sneaked in and out of her humble residence.
“Of course you do, verea,” he said in the formal manner he used with her in front of strangers. “You will have to learn the protocol of the lower palace, where you can walk and where you’re not allowed, whom to bow to and whom you may pass with only a greeting. People will offer you coin and preferment to spy on me.”
She had a habit when considering unpleasant thoughts of brushing a fingertip over a burn scar on her chin, an injury she never discussed. Her gaze passed scornfully down the soldiers’ ranks as if trying to decide which fool was hoping to bribe her to sell secrets she would never reveal for any price. “A person who offers to pay for my favor has already lost it,” she said for their ears, then looked back at him. “Is there a palace school for the children of servants? Have they a chance to train for the civil service examinations? Or to apprentice out when the time comes?”
“What will be best for your children I can’t yet say, if you will be patient.”
“Of course. Let me just fetch the tea things.” Passing him on the porch, she lowered her voice. “Hasibal’s Tears. What of those?”
He glanced into the dim confines of the inner office. That the king had just stood there seemed like a dream, or a nightmare. “Soon they may begin to fall.”