by DAVID B. COE
Evanthya smiled, kissing her again. “Perhaps not here . . .” She raised an eyebrow, leaving the thought unfinished.
Fetnalla shook her head and began to walk again. “No. We can’t.”
“Why not?” Evanthya demanded, striding after the minister and pulling her to a halt again.
Fetnalla jerked her arm away. “We just can’t. Someone might find out.”
“That’s never stopped us before. What is this, Fetnalla? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Fetnalla stared at her until Evanthya thought the woman might cry. But for a long time, she said nothing.
“Walk with me,” she finally said.
Evanthya shook her head. “I won’t. Not until—”
“In the gardens.” She looked down the corridor again. It almost seemed to Evanthya that she expected to see soldiers coming for them at any moment. “We can talk in the gardens.”
Fetnalla started to walk again, leaving Evanthya little choice but to follow. Neither of them spoke while they were in the hallways and even when they stepped into the cold night air, Fetnalla said nothing. The skies had cleared and Panya shone upon the castle, silver-white and bright enough to cast dark shadows across the ward.
They made their way past grey hedgerows and the small, lifeless trees of the orchard. In another turn, all of them would be in bud, but for now it felt to Evanthya that they were walking among wraiths.
Still, Fetnalla did not speak. Evanthya stopped and waited for the other woman to face her. When she didn’t, Evanthya folded her arms over her aching chest and swallowed.
“Tell me what this is about,” she said. “Tell me now, or I’m going back to my chamber.”
Fetnalla turned at that, her lips pressed thin. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I don’t want to.” Evanthya took a step toward her, taking hold of her slender hands. “But you have to talk to me.” She wanted to put her arms around her, but even here, alone in the night, Fetnalla seemed reluctant to have her come close.
“They’re watching me,” Fetnalla whispered, her eyes darting back toward the nearest of the towers.
Evanthya shivered as from an icy wind, though the air was still. “Who?”
“The duke, his men, maybe even some of the other ministers. I’m not certain.”
“Have you seen them?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard them outside my door at night. And I can . . . I can feel them.”
Evanthya’s first thought was that her love had gone mad, that she was gripped by some senseless fear. She thrust the notion away almost as quickly as it came, forcing herself to believe that Brall’s men were indeed keeping watch on her, or at least to accept that Fetnalla believed it.
“Why would they be watching you?”
Fetnalla frowned. “You think I’m imagining it.”
“I only asked—”
“I know what you asked, and I heard the doubt in your voice. You don’t believe me.”
“I believe that you’re frightened and that—”
“Is it so hard to believe that Brall would want to have me watched? He’s been accusing me of every kind of treachery for several turns. My denials mean nothing to him. You know that. You saw how he was in Solkara.”
She had a point. The duke of Orvinti had been suspicious of Fetnalla since before Carden’s death, and subsequent events had served only to deepen his doubts. But for her own duke to spy on her . . .
“Could it be someone else? The conspiracy perhaps. Maybe they hope to turn you, and so they’re watching for signs of a rift between you and Brall.”
Fetnalla shook her head. “Not unless their spies wear swords and soldiers’ boots.” She exhaled, closing her eyes briefly. “I know how this sounds. If you were telling all this to me, I’d probably think you were crazed. But I swear to you, he’s having me watched. Brall is so afraid of the conspiracy and so convinced that I’ve betrayed him that he’ll go to any length to protect himself, even though I pose no threat to him.”
Evanthya had no choice but to believe her. Hadn’t her own duke, a far more reasonable man than Lord Orvinti, expressed similar suspicions?
“So we can’t be together,” she said, her voice flat.
“I’m afraid we can’t, not until this passes, or my duke banishes me from the castle.”
“He’s a fool.” She sounded bitter and small, but she couldn’t help herself.
Fetnalla allowed herself a grim smile. “He’s merely the first of what will soon be a large group of Eandi nobles taking similar steps against their ministers. We have to do something, Evanthya.”
“I know. I’ve wanted to speak of it all night.” She glanced about the ward, abruptly feeling that she was being watched as well. She shivered again and pulled her robes tight around her shoulders. “You received my message.”
Fetnalla arched an eyebrow. “Yes,” she said drily. “You should have heard me trying to explain that to Brall.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to know.”
“It’s all right. I was . . . relieved to learn that we’d succeeded.”
Evanthya glanced up at white Panya. “Only ‘relieved’? I was elated. I wanted nothing more than to find another assassin and start again.”
“And yet you cried for Shurik.”
She looked sharply at Fetnalla. “How did you know that?”
“I know you.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I cried for him. I cried for what the Forelands have become and for what the conspiracy has done to us all, that it might drive me to such a killing. But that won’t stop me from striking at them again.”
“Of course it won’t.”
“The question is, what do we do next?”
“I don’t know.” Fetnalla glanced back toward the castle. “I don’t have enough gold to hire another assassin, and I can’t imagine that either of us is willing to wield a blade ourselves.”
“So what are you saying? That we can’t do any more?”
“I’m merely pointing out that we may have done all that we can, at least for now.”
“No, we can’t stop now. We can at least try to upset their plans.”
Fetnalla shrugged. “We’d need to know their plans first.”
Evanthya nodded, considering this briefly. “Tell me about Numar’s visit.”
“There’s really not much to tell. He spoke with my duke in only the vaguest terms about a possible alliance with Braedon.” Her mouth twitched. “At least that’s all they said in front of me. They spoke for some time in private, and Brall’s told me nothing of what they discussed.”
“What about Pronjed?”
“He and I spoke briefly.” Her brow furrowed. “Actually, now that you ask, we spoke about you.”
“About me?”
“Yes. He wanted to know if you were likely to counsel Tebeo to support a war with Eibithar, should it come to that.”
All the rage Evanthya felt during her own conversation with the archminister returned in a rush, until her hands began to tremble. “What did you tell him?”
Fetnalla smiled. “I told him that I had as much chance of predicting your actions as I did of predicting storms in the planting turns.”
“Good. I had an interesting conversation with him as well.” Once more, as she had for her duke several days before, Evanthya described her discussion with Pronjed, relating to Fetnalla not only his questions about Tounstrel and Noltierre but also his comments about the regent and their mutual distrust.
“You think he’s a traitor,” Fetnalla said when Evanthya had finished.
“I think it’s possible. You thought so after Carden’s death. You even guessed that he had mind-bending magic.”
“I remember.”
“What if you were right? I found myself telling him things that I hadn’t intended, as if he were forcing me to reveal more than I wanted. Perhaps he did kill Carden.”
“What are you suggesting?”
She opened her arms wide. �
��Isn’t it obvious? I believe Pronjed is a traitor, and I think he’s pushing the regent toward this war with Eibithar as a way of further weakening the Eandi courts.”
“You don’t know this for certain.”
“I’m certain enough. Think about the questions he asked us. He’s trying to make certain that all of Aneira’s dukes support the alliance, yet he’s clearly concerned that they won’t. Why? Because if they give it any thought at all, they’ll see that a war with Eibithar would be disastrous, even if we join with the empire.”
“Listen to yourself, Evanthya! That’s not proof that he’s a traitor. Isn’t it possible that he’s merely using poor judgment, that both he and Numar have been seduced by this notion of an alliance with Harel?”
“I don’t think so,” Evanthya said. “Not after what he said about the regent.”
“Maybe he was lying about that.”
“To what end? If he only wished to win Tebeo’s support for the war he would have spoken as the regent’s man. But he didn’t, in fact he made a point of telling me that Numar didn’t trust him, that he was speaking to me without the regent’s knowledge. I believe he was testing my loyalty. He might even have hoped to turn me to his cause.”
Fetnalla turned away again, the look of barely controlled panic returning to her face. “Pronjed scares me. If he really does have delusion magic, he’s too dangerous a foe, at least for us alone.”
Evanthya smiled, touching Fetnalla’s soft cheek so that the woman would meet her gaze again. “That’s the beauty of what I’m proposing. We won’t be standing against him alone. I’m merely suggesting that we serve our dukes as we would anyway. We have to tell them that this war is a mistake and should be opposed. I’ve already said as much to Tebeo. No doubt he and Brall are discussing the matter as we speak.”
“I don’t know that Brall will listen to me.”
“Of course he will, especially because his closest ally will be telling him just what you are. Don’t you see, Fetnalla? If we do this right, we can deal the conspiracy another blow and prove our loyalty at the same time.”
A tear appeared on Fetnalla’s cheek, shimmering in the moonlight as it rolled over her white skin. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It can be.”
“No, it can’t, not anymore, not with what Brall has done to me.” She dabbed her cheek with the edge of her sleeve. “It almost doesn’t matter what I tell him anymore. If I advise him to withhold his men from Solkara’s army, he won’t do it. He’ll be convinced that this is what the conspiracy wants me to say. It won’t matter that Tebeo agrees with me, because he’ll know that you offered the same counsel, and since you’re Qirsi, you’re suspect in his eyes as well.”
Evanthya felt her patience waning. It wasn’t like Fetnalla to surrender so easily, and though she didn’t doubt that Brall’s suspicions and his spies had taken their toll, she knew as well that she couldn’t do this alone.
“Then what do you propose we do?” she asked.
“I told you before, I don’t know. What you’re suggesting makes sense. I just . . .” She exhaled, shaking her head again.
“You’re frightened.”
“Very. More than I’ve ever been.”
“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, from Brall and from the conspiracy.” She kissed her once more. “You know that I’d give my life if it meant saving yours.”
“Yes, I do. I just don’t want it to come to that.”
Evanthya took her hands again. They were shaking. She raised Fetnalla’s fingers to her lips, kissing them gently. It was strange. For so long, Fetnalla had been the brave one, leading Evanthya into this battle, helping her overcome fears and doubts much like those to which she was giving voice now.
“It won’t,” she said, trying to sound strong and certain. “Do as I tell you, and we’ll be fine. I promise.”
Fetnalla’s shivering seemed only to grow more violent. Evanthya frowned.
“Let’s get you to your chamber,” she said. “You’re cold, and you look like you haven’t been sleeping.”
Fetnalla nodded. “Yes. I need to sleep.” She regarded Evanthya for a moment, tilting her head to the side as she often did when she grinned. Her expression remained grim, however, and there was an apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry you can’t join me, but with Brall’s spies about . . .”
“I understand. Perhaps we’ll find time to steal away before the duke and I return to Dantrielle.”
Fetnalla nodded, though she looked doubtful. “I’d like that.”
They walked back to the castle and wound their way through the corridors to Fetnalla’s chamber. Evanthya saw no soldiers, but several times she heard boots scraping on the stone floors just ahead of them, only to turn a corner and find the hallway empty. By the time she had said goodnight to Fetnalla and walked hurriedly back to her own chamber on the other side of the ward, Evanthya no longer doubted that Fetnalla was being watched, as were those who consorted with her.
Weary from her journey, lonely for her love, Evanthya fell quickly into a fitful slumber, only to awaken what seemed a short time later to the sound of knocking at her door. Rising and wrapping herself in her robe, she crossed to the door.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“Your duke,” came the reply. “It’s past midmorning, First Minister. Lord Orvinti and I are about to meet in his chambers and we’d like you and Fetnalla to be there.”
Evanthya pulled the door open, smoothing her white hair. “I’ll be along shortly, my lord, but I’m afraid Fetnalla isn’t with me.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Do you know where she is?”
“I haven’t seen her since I left her last night. Isn’t she in her quarters?”
“No. That’s why I came here.”
She felt herself blanch. “Does Lord Orvinti know that you’ve come to me?”
Tebeo took a breath, wincing slightly. “Yes, he does. I told him about the two of you last night.”
She had to resist an urge to rail at him. What right did he have to share her secret with Brall? An instant later she realized that he wouldn’t see it that way. Fetnalla was Orvinti’s minister, just as she was his. Certainly Brall had as much right to know of their love as Tebeo did. The Qirsi were not chattel, but as ministers in the Eandi courts they did sacrifice certain freedoms, such as the right to share a bed with the ministers of rival nobles. It would have been within Tebeo’s authority to demand that she end her affair with Fetnalla as soon as he learned of it. Allowing it to continue had been an act of kindness. Evanthya doubted that Brall would be so generous.
“You’re angry with me,” the duke said, his eyes meeting hers.
It would have been useless to deny it. “I have no right to be, my lord.”
“Brall was displeased with me last night when I sent the two of you away. He was convinced that you would be plotting behind our backs. I thought it better that he know the truth.”
“I think you’re probably right, my lord.”
“Unfortunately, this brings us no closer to finding Fetnalla.” He rubbed a hand across his brow, as he often did when concerned. “Would she have gone to the city for any reason?”
“It’s certainly possible, my lord. We didn’t speak of her plans for the day, nor did we know that you and Lord Orvinti wished to speak with us this morning. She might have gone to the marketplace without realizing that her duke would be looking for her.” She hesitated. “I take it Lord Orvinti is scouring the castle for her.”
He gave a wan smile. “I’m afraid he is. I tried to assure him last night that Fetnalla serves him loyally, but he’s even more disturbed by what he hears of the conspiracy than I am. This will do nothing to put his fears to rest. The sooner we find her, the better for all concerned.”
Evanthya nodded, trying to think of where Fetnalla might have gone. She thought it strange that the minister would leave the castle at all. It was true that they hadn’t known when the dukes would wish to speak with them
, but Evanthya had assumed it would be this morning. Indeed, she had intended to be awake far earlier than this, expecting that they would all meet with the ringing of the midmorning bells. Fetnalla should have expected the same. She also should have known better than to leave the castle when her duke had guests, particularly in light of Brall’s suspicions. This was not like her at all.
She was about to say as much to Tebeo, when she heard a voice calling for him. A moment later a guard stepped into the corridor, breathless and flushed.
“They found her, my lord,” the man said. “She was walking the gardens. She’s with the duke now.” His eyes flicked toward Evanthya. “They’re waiting for you both.”
Evanthya closed her eyes for an instant, surprised by how relieved she felt, or rather, how frightened she had been.
“Thank you,” Tebeo said to the man. “Tell Lord Orvinti we’ll be joining them shortly.”
“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed once and left them.
“I’ll dress as quickly as I can, my lord.”
“Very well. I’ll wait.”
Evanthya started to close the door, but Tebeo spoke her name, stopping her.
“For what it’s worth, Brall took the news of your . . . of you and Fetnalla rather well. He agreed with me that so long as he and I remain allies, and the two of you continue to serve us well, your private lives are none of our concern.”
She nodded. That was a relief as well, though a part of her couldn’t help feeling that they shouldn’t have needed permission from their dukes to be in love. “Thank you, my lord. I’m glad to hear that.”
It took Evanthya but a few moments to dress and soon she and her duke were making their way through Orvinti’s corridors to Brall’s chambers.
The door was open when they arrived. Brall sat at his writing table, looking at a large ledger by the light of several candles. Fetnalla stood at the hearth, her back to the duke, her color high.
Brall looked up as Tebeo and Evanthya stepped into the room and immediately closed the volume.
“Our apologies for keeping you waiting,” Tebeo said, smiling first at the other duke and then at Fetnalla, who didn’t appear to notice.