Aly cleared her throat. “With regard to the main members of their group, I can vouch for their loyalty,” she said modestly. “I've had them watched.” With normal spies she would have waited for them to observe their quarry for months before she could say with near-certainty that they were loyal to their fellow conspirators. With the darkings able to follow those who met in the Teak Sitting Room, she was certain that none of them was in communication with the Crown. Not only had her small allies watched the heads of those families, but they had inspected their desks, their wardrobes, and even their diaries.
“They could have hidden something from you,” argued Quedanga.
Aly shook her head. “You must trust me.”
“What good might you do us?” Ulasim asked the duchess and Lady Nuritin. “You are formidable allies in your own persons, but we need fighters, and weapons, and horses. We need ships, and crews. We need money.”
“All of which we have,” said the duchess.
“What if your warriors choose not to obey your wishes?” Chenaol asked, curious rather than hostile. “What if they report you to our new rulers?”
“Remind them of Topabaw's fate, and that of two commanders of the King's Watch,” said Dove. “Remind them that Imajane and Rubinyan are less than loyal to those who serve them.”
“You might also want to mention those dead persons who have appeared with the word spy on their clothing recently,” Aly murmured. “And those who will be found tomorrow, and the day after. I think we'll have the Windward District fairly well cleared by then.” She gazed at them under her lashes. Everyone had turned to look at her. She added, “After that, we'll start on the rest of Rajmuat. District by district, that's the best way to handle these things.”
“And only think, she is on our side,” Fesgao said at last.
Nuritin smiled frostily at Aly. “Or we need simply to remind such would-be traitors that the Crown will not believe they were innocent while their fellows conspired.”
Aly grinned. “That will work, too.”
Someone rapped on the door in the rebels' signal. Aly went to open it, to find Guchol outside. “Lady Nuritin's secretary, Jesi, is here with two priests of the Black God.”
Aly looked back at Nuritin, who nodded regally. “Bring them,” she ordered.
“Here?” asked Guchol, startled. “But . . .” One look at Aly's raised eyebrow changed her mind. “Right away, Duani.” Guchol trotted off down the hall.
“Duani?” Aly heard Nuritin ask. Aly remained in the doorway, listening to the talk as she watched the hall.
“She is our spymaster,” Ulasim explained. “Her people call her that.”
“And how did a maid from Tortall become a spymaster?” demanded Nuritin, outraged.
Aly flapped her hand for silence as people came down the hall, Jesi in the lead. She nodded when she saw Aly, and stood aside to let the priests go ahead. When they walked into the room, Imgehai Qeshi put back her hood, revealing her pale luarin face lit by amber eyes. With a nod to Winnamine and Nuritin, she leaned against the wall as Aly locked the door. The other priest looked around the room from the shadow of his hood, then pushed it back. Aly recognized the eagle nose and short-cropped gray hair of Duke Nomru. Some of the raka murmured in surprise.
You sly thing! Aly thought, beaming at Nuritin with approval. All the realm's soldiers and spies are hunting for him, and you've had him tucked away in your vacant town house! She bowed to Nuritin to show her appreciation.
Winnamine and Dove stood to kiss the renegade duke on the cheek. Nomru's eyes swept the room, lingering on some faces, then settling on Ulasim. The raka met the duke's gaze with one of equal strength. Ulasim would make sure these people, normally luarin masters, would learn right away who was in charge here.
After a moment the duke asked Ulasim, “May I join you?” Ulasim nodded.
Secret stretched a long neck up from its place in Aly's bead necklace to whisper to her.
“Excuse me,” Aly said. She went into her workroom for privacy, locking her door behind her. Taking off her necklace, she held it in her hands as it reshaped itself into her two darkings. “Say that again?”
They conferred. Finally Trick said, “Servants took food to house of mages inside Gray Palace walls, took food to guards on watch. A man of Rittevon Lancers comes to say fresh guards come soon, but guards eat now because mess is closed. Guards eat. Dark come. Guards start to fall. They try to breathe, but breath not come. Their faces swell. They lay down, no breath coming. They stop trying to breathe.”
“How do you know?” asked Aly, her mind ticking away. “All the guards? They're all dead?”
“Peony go to mage house, after Grosbeak run away,” explained Trick. “Peony not want to go with Grosbeak, and we think darking should watch mage house. Darkings know mages. They stir things up. Peony stays at mage house.”
“Oh, dear,” Aly said ruefully. “I didn't even try to find Peony.”
Trick and Secret shook their heads. “Darkings here to work. Aly can't do everything,” Trick said. “We think of some.”
“No, I do not remember everything. And I should have taken you more seriously,” she admitted.
“Darkings learn,” Trick said with pride. “Peony check all guards outside mage house. All dead. Peony go inside mage house. Five mages there and families. All dead.”
Aly felt her bowels tighten. Were the new rulers mad? “What else?” she asked.
“Wagons coming to mage house,” Secret continued. “Men packing up dead mages, dead guards. Rubinyan send them. He say, give the dead to meat-eating fish. He wants no one but trusted guards to know what happened to them.”
Aly shuddered. It was a fate she would not wish on anyone. “What are the king and queen doing now?” Aly wanted to know. “Are they, I don't know, slumbering the sleep of those without cares?”
Both darkings shook their heads.
“Imajane screaming and throwing things at Rubinyan,” replied Secret. “Bottles, brushes, mirrors. She says Rubin-yan . . .” It cocked its head as if listening. “She says he is tumbling a lady?”
“Ah,” Aly replied. “It means he is making love with a lady. If Imajane is throwing things, she believes he is in love with some other woman. Is she still throwing things?”
“She has nothing to throw unless she picks up chair,” said Trick. “Uh-oh.”
“She picked up chair,” Secret explained.
Shaking her head, Aly returned to the meeting room, interrupting an intense discussion of numbers of household men-at-arms. She waited for a lull in the conversation, then announced, “I have some interesting news.” She looked at Ulasim, who nodded for her to speak. “Someone—I suspect Imajane—has poisoned the court mages. Either a natural poison was used, one no one would notice in food, or they didn't look at their supper properly.”
They stared at her. Nomru was the first to speak. “My dear young woman, not even Imajane is so mad. For that matter, how can you possibly know this?”
“She has means that we do not,” Chenaol told him.
Aly knew Chenaol probably thought the god had told her. That was good enough for the time being.
“Imajane would certainly be that mad if she were getting rid of evidence,” said Nuritin. “Everyone knows the storm that sank the Rittevon was no accident. The Rittevons have been wary of mages since that cabal that worked for Carthak was uncovered fifty years ago and since Oron's mage killed his father. And the Crown does have a reputation for doing away with their tools, once used.”
“Rubinyan is no Rittevon,” Imgehai Qeshi remarked.
“Rubinyan didn't know,” Aly told her. “She ordered their deaths without consulting him. He is quite upset.”
“And so he should be!” Nomru said. “Letting a woman decide a matter of state . . .”
He looked down at the strong brown hand that gripped one of his arms, then up into Fesgao's eyes. “Perhaps we have not made ourselves entirely clear,” Fesgao told him mildly. “We are not
in this to put another luarin man on the throne. We are here to reclaim our homeland and set a proper queen of our own blood to rule.”
Nomru took a breath, as if to argue, then halted, and released it. “I confess, we have done poorly with our charge,” he admitted reluctantly. He looked at Dove. “Of course. The one who is twice royal.” He fell silent, then nodded. “I am an old dog, but I believe I am still able to learn. Dovasary might do very well for us all.”
The next day callers returned to visit the duchess. That night Duke Nomru moved secretly into Balitang House. One or two or three at a time the luarin conspirators, starting with the Fonfalas, learned they had new allies, people who were not prepared to allow them to take over. It took little to persuade most, particularly because Aly urged the duchess, Nuritin, and Dove to let them know what had happened to the court mages, their families, and the men set to guard them. The luarin conspirators could work it out for themselves that Imajane had done all this to cover up some dreadful act like regicide.
Two days after Matfrid Fonfala visited his grieving daughter, Trick told Aly that the Fonfala estates on Malubesang, next to the Nomru lands, had risen against the Crown. They were led not by servant and slave rebels, but by Winnamine's brothers. That same day word came from Malubesang of the discovery of the royal governor's body, hanging from the cliffs that overlooked Fajurat Bay.
When a twentieth Crown spy turned up dead, courtesy of Boulaj and Junai working from Aly's lists, Rubinyan and Imajane instituted a twilight curfew throughout Rajmuat. Even with the curfew, neither spies nor the night patrolmen themselves were safe from the rebels. From her sources Aly cheerfully reported growing unease in the warehouses commandeered for use as barracks and in the barracks proper for the army. The men complained that death in battle was expected; simply disappearing from the street was not.
Two nights after the curfew began, the chief conspirators, including Duke Nomru, the priestess Imgehai Qeshi, Winnamine, and Nuritin, met outside at Aly and Nawat's suggestion. Certainly it was stifling indoors; the garden was cooler by far. Urged by Nawat, the miniature kudarung came out to meet the four luarin, who were charmed and awed. No kudarung had come voluntarily to Rajmuat in over two centuries. Aly thought better of the stern Nomru when she saw how gently he handled a small piebald foal that tried to eat the trim on his tunic.
The curfew gongs were ringing when the southeast horizon flared orange. Aly pointed it out to her companions as a big explosion thudded in their ears. Nomru started to his feet, the ladies and then the raka beside him. Over the southeastern wall of the house the orange glow expanded. Where the white light-veils and the multicolored sparks shifted over the sky, the orange glow kept its place on the horizon. Soon they heard the now-familiar clang of the city's alarm bells.
Nomru frowned. “That looks like it comes from the naval shipyards,” he said.
Aly sighed happily. “It does. My little ones do such wonderful work.”
“Their Majesties will start executing people over deeds like this,” Nomru warned.
“They would do it sooner or later in any case,” replied Ulasim. “They must, to show they have control. They will find it is not so easy to kill rebels here. And while they search for people to execute, they will force those who did not want to choose between them and the rebels to pick a side.”
Aly pointed upward. The multicolored points of light scattered across the sky blazed more strongly than ever. “So nice to know our work is appreciated,” she remarked.
The next morning, when she went to her workroom, her pack was already there, freshly washed and wearing clothes that did not smell of blazebalm.
“Very good work last night, my lambs,” she told them as she flung herself into her chair and laced her fingers on her stomach. “Very inspiring. What is left?”
Jimarn unfurled a small, deadly smile. “Very little. No wonder it's a death sentence for a raka to possess blazebalm. It's very useful stuff.”
“What next, Duani?” Olkey wanted to know. “We have ideas for our recruits, of course, but do you have anything special in mind?”
Aly tugged an earlobe. She would have loved to get to work inside the palace, but the raka there were too easily trapped. For the time being she named four people in the city as targets. All were the prince's cronies, placed in high offices when he became regent. It was even more galling that the lone raka among them was in charge of the Crown prisons on Gempang and Kypriang, where the prisoners were also mostly raka. If he felt anything for them, he had yet to show it.
“You might advise these four that it's a mistake to support the current government,” she said. “They should be allowed to live. But they should remember they cannot hide from us. Indulge your imaginations. Be mindful of their children. Many times children grow up to make different choices than did their parents. Jimarn, you might want to visit the Crown warehouses on Josefa Street. They are packed with grain. Wouldn't it be nice to hide it someplace so we can share it with those in need this winter? Do as you like with the empty warehouses.”
“Duani, remind me to stay on your good side,” Hiraos commented, shaking his head. “You really know how to hold a grudge.”
“And she makes it painful,” Guchol remarked soberly.
Aly waved goodbye and watched them go. Their tasks would keep them occupied for a few days. By then she ought to have some ideas for the palace in general, and the Gray Palace in particular. The darkings had already mentioned that their noisemaking and item-throwing had increased the tension of all who lived there.
As soon as the pack was gone, Trick told Aly that Imajane was sending Lady Edunata home to her family covered in bruises. The morning after Edunata left, Imajane woke to find that two more ladies-in-waiting had left her service in the night. They did not want to risk Imajane's jealousy.
That same day Rubinyan brought Varwick Jimajen, his oldest son by his first marriage, to court from his home estates. Aly passed on to the conspirators that Rubinyan confided to Varwick his fear that he could not control his queen. It worried him that she had ordered the deaths of the mages without consulting him. He rightly asked himself what other orders she might give.
Nawat expanded the work of the crows. They had already put a stop to the Crown's attempts to communicate with the outer Isles by winged messenger. The only reliable ways to get news or give instructions were through messengers on the ground or by mage. Since the queen trusted what her new mages told her no more than she had the old mages, the newcomers were a jumpy crew. Nawat then made sure that it was not safe for a noble or soldier on the open palace grounds. When Imajane tried to do a day's hunting just outside the walls, Nawat and his friends mobbed the falcons, driving the royal party back to the Gray Palace.
Seventeen days after Dunevon's death, Kioka raced into Aly's workroom. “I just came from the docks!” she announced, panting. “You won't believe it! They posted it on the docks while their messengers delivered the letters to the palace. They're calling their ambassadors home!”
Aly drummed her fingers until Kioka caught her breath. “I would share your joy more quickly if I understood what to be joyful about,” she said gently.
“I'm sorry, Duani. It's the Tortallans, and the Carthakis. They say their mages discovered the storm that sank King Dunevon's ship was magical, and they traced the magic back to the Gray Palace. They say they will not trade with king-slayers! Every Tortallan and Carthaki ship in port is weighing anchor, even if they don't have cargo. Even if they're half unloaded! Olkey says the Tyrans are debating cutting their trade with the Isles, though he isn't sure they'll do it. Tyrans are less choosy about where they get money.”
Aly stopped drumming her fingers. She hadn't expected this. Tortall and Carthak had just put the Isles under a trading ban until the king's murderers were caught. With a bad harvest and national unrest draining the royal treasury, this was a heavy blow. How would the monarchs cope? They would have to find someone to take the blame. A pity that Imajane had been so quick to
kill the mages, but Aly supposed the princess had decided she couldn't be certain that the mages would keep quiet about who had issued their orders.
Would the Crown try to hold the Tortallan and Carthaki ambassadors here in Rajmuat? Aly hoped so, but surely Rubinyan and Imajane wouldn't be that stupid. If they did try, they could expect the Tortallan and Carthaki navies within the week.
“It's good, right?” Kioka asked, brushing her hair back from her eyes.
Aly sighed. “Think how distressed Their Majesties must be,” she said. “And shouldn't the people know our two richest, most powerful neighbors have stopped trading with us?”
“Got it,” said Kioka. She raced from the room, squeezing past Nawat.
Aly raised her eyebrows. “You left me to sleep the rest of the night alone,” she said.
Nawat grinned. “I was helping to steal soldiers who couldn't keep up.”
“What do you do with them?” she asked, curious. “I haven't heard of bodies being found.”
“Nor will you,” Nawat informed her, sitting on a corner of the worktable. “They were still alive when we gave them to my warriors at the edge of the jungle.” He picked up Aly's hand and laced his fingers with hers. “My warriors will be able to say they last saw the missing soldiers alive, when the troops went on a visit to the jungle.”
Aly walked her free fingers over their entwined hands. “But why would Crown soldiers visit the jungle?”
“They didn't think they would at first,” Nawat admitted. “So my warriors show them the beauties of the deep jungle. They take away all the things the soldiers have of the civilized world, such as clothes and weapons and armor, so the soldiers will appreciate the jungle with their entire bodies. But my warriors have seen jungle before, so they get bored and leave. The soldiers stay longer.”
“Like the tax collectors,” Aly whispered, awed by the beauty of what he described. “Take away all they have and leave them to survive the jungle. If you're questioned under truthspell, you can say they were alive when you left them. And the only way they could survive naked out there . . .” Nawat was shaking his head. Aly nodded. “I take it you don't leave them near any trails.”
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