9780981988238

by Leona Wisoker

  Scratha's grin reminded Alyea of the snarl just before an asp-jacau snapped its sharp teeth into flesh. “Ish-tchiki, ha'rethe esse chaka. I paid the price to the watcher of the eastern Wall passage, and was granted entry to its underground ways.”

  “Damn it, Scratha!” Lord Irrio said, and pushed forward urgently. “Don't speak of this here! Are you mad?”

  Scratha's eyes held a bright and feral light. “When a secret is used to kill those it should protect, I no longer consider it sacred.”

  “You'll damn us all for the folly of one?” Lord Irrio demanded. “Save this for Conclave!”

  “The damage is done,” Lord Faer said, his face unusually stern. He glanced over the crowd, assessing, and shook his head. “Close the camp, and we'll hold the rest of this discussion in private. Scratha, not another word on this topic until then!”

  “While you're closing the camp,” Scratha said, “would someone be so good as to bring Pieas Sessin to me?”

  Lord Faer, who had begun to turn away, swung back to face Scratha. “Why?”

  Irrio turned away to mutter in the ear of a lean, scarred man dressed in Darden Family colors. The man nodded and hurried away. The other lords, Alyea noticed, were motioning to their own assistants and sending them off on hasty errands.

  “I have words for him,” Scratha said, and his mouth twitched as though with brief amusement. “He may have none for me, but it's my damn land and he'll have to listen, at the least. Is he in your tents, Lord Faer?”

  “Yes. He came to me for shelter. He claims the young lady here— Alyea, isn't it?—laid unfair accusations against him, and wanted his chance to be heard in Conclave.”

  Scratha's mouth stretched in a thin smile. “Bring him here.”

  “I promised him my protection, Lord Scratha,” Lord Faer said coldly.

  “I won't hurt him,” Scratha said, without a flicker in his expression.

  Lord Faer frowned. “I want to know your intentions, Scratha.”

  “I've invoked my right to change the supplicant's choice in the sunlord's blood trial. If Pieas agrees, he will switch places with Chacerly.”

  Lord Faer blinked, his eyebrows arching, and stared at Alyea, then back to Scratha. “You've lost your mind!” he said. “Pieas would be agreeing to his own death!”

  “But an honorable one,” Scratha said mildly. “In any case, my lord, it's not a request. So go get him before I do.”

  Lord Faer shook his head, his lips tightening, and seemed about to refuse again.

  “You promised him the chance to clear his name,” Deiq said. Everyone turned to look at him as if they had forgotten he stood there. “What better way to do that than to let him confront his accuser? Does that really have to be in full Conclave?”

  Lord Faer started to speak, then hesitated, rubbing his forehead fretfully.

  “How's this,” he said. “I'll grant you a meeting with him. If he convinces the majority of the full lords present that he's innocent, then I'll release him from my protection and you can pursue the matter of the blood trial with him without my interference. If he's guilty of the charges, you can do as you like with him.”

  “Agreed,” Scratha said promptly. “Now will you go get the boy already?”

  Lord Faer sighed and hurried away without looking back.

  Deiq moved to stand beside Alyea, his expression somber and a little worried.

  “That man,” he said in her ear, “is a lunatic.”

  “Lord Faer?” she said, keeping her voice as low as his. The crowd around them buzzed with whispers and muttering; even the desert lords nearby probably wouldn't hear her through the noise.

  “No,” he said. “Scratha. He just talked openly about one of the most sacred secrets the desert lords hold. If he had spoken those words so publicly anywhere else but his bound land, he'd be dead right now, desert lord or not, along with every servant present who isn't bound under the Threefold Oath. But they can't kill him here, not now.”

  “The—”

  “I'll explain later. As it is, most of the servants who heard him are likely dead as soon as they leave his land. The camp's being closed to keep the smart ones from bolting.”

  “Does he know that?” Alyea said, shocked.

  “Oh, yes,” Deiq said. He went back to watching the crowd, eyes narrow and thoughtful, and only shook his head to further questions.

  Lanterns and torches flared into life as the afternoon sunlight faded. Scratha seemed content to wait, blinking almost placidly in the uncertain light. Lord Evkit made no move to withdraw; Alyea had the sense that he knew better than to test Scratha's volatile temper further.

  At last, the camp was declared secured and Lord Faer returned, Pieas Sessin glowering sullenly at his side.

  “Let's move away a bit for this discussion,” Lord Scratha said. He lifted two long-necked torches and their holders and motioned for the assembled lords to follow him. Scratha led them around the side of the fortress, back to the place where he had first surprised Alyea. Chac and Micru, dim shadows in the growing twilight, stood up as the group approached. The light from the torches in Scratha's hands wreathed his face in shifting, demonic light.

  “I'll beg your pardon, my lords,” Scratha said, “that I'm not inclined to invite you inside my home until I resolve a few issues, given you were plotting to take it from me.” He drove the torches into the sand, one to either side of him. The flaring, sputtering light threw shadows into disarray among the assembled group.

  Lord Rest said, “You've changed, Lord Scratha, since I last saw you.”

  “I've learned a lot since the last time you saw me, Lord Rest.” His dark stare swept over the group again. “I only wonder why you haven't tried to kill me before, since I'm such an inconvenience to your little plots and plans.”

  “We don't want you dead,” Lord Faer said, appearing deeply shocked.

  Scratha grinned fiercely. “Dead or safely out of the way in the northlands, what would be the difference?”

  “You'd have been happier wandering the north,” Lord Irrio said, prompting a startled, dismayed look from Lord Faer. “You were only ever granted desert lord status as a courtesy, Scratha. Last of a dead line? You didn't have a chance.”

  “What?” Lord Faer gasped. They ignored him.

  “Except that I'm not the last,” Scratha said. “Sons and daughters of the line are still living, and one of them is less than two hundred yards from where we stand now.” His gaze went to Lord Evkit, and what little humor he had been displaying faded.

  “We didn't know that then,” Lord Irrio said carefully.

  “Oh?” Scratha said, not taking his stare from the teyanin lord. “Imagine, Lord Evkit keeping secrets from his darling. The sands may swallow us all.”

  A dark flush spread across Lord Irrio's face. For a moment, he looked ready to launch an attack on Scratha. Alyea found herself tensing, unsure whether to back away or to intervene. Deiq's pressure on her elbow tightened briefly.

  Lord Irrio drew a deep breath, seeming to gain control of himself.

  Lord Evkit watched everything with a bland detachment that seemed almost eerie in the midst of the raging tempers around him.

  “It's not worth arguing,” Lord Faer said abruptly. “Scratha's a full lord, bound to his lands, and with a true female line open he'll be rebuilding his family within a few years. You're never going to be able to leave your lands again, Scratha, and neither will the girl—her name's Gria, isn't it? She'll never leave the southlands.”

  Lord Evkit opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head and subsided, a faint smile on his face. Alyea suspected he had been about to mention his previous claim on Gria, and had thought better of it for some reason. More than likely, the fact that the poor girl wasn't a virgin any longer had been enough to kill his interest. And what would Scratha do when he found that out?

  “She'll never leave the walls of my fortress, if I have anything to say about it,” Scratha said. “I want her to stay alive.” His
glare went to Lord Evkit, then back to the gathered lords.

  “I want this held aside,” Lord Faer said sternly. “Your accusations against Lord Evkit and the teyanain should be aired in Conclave. Just because you're on your bound land, my lord, does not mean you can sidestep the laws of the desert.”

  Scratha stared at the plump desert lord as if considering arguing the point, then shrugged. “I'll agree,” he said, “if you'll hold him here for that time.”

  For the first time, Lord Evkit showed anger. “You think I would run?”

  Scratha looked down at the small man from the whole of his towering height, managing to convey a sense of utter scorn.

  “Enough,” Lord Faer said hastily, and stepped between the two men as the teyanin lord visibly stiffened with rage. “Hold it for Conclave, the both of you! I'll vouch for Evkit's honor, Scratha. You two stay apart until this is brought up formally!”

  Lord Evkit hissed, his glare pure venom, and turned away, his shoulders and lips tight.

  “I have other business this night which is not a matter for Conclave,” Lord Scratha said, turning his stare on Pieas Sessin.

  Pieas lifted his chin and sneered at Scratha, but a livid bruise on the side of his face and a haggard puffiness under his eyes detracted from the attempt at arrogance.

  “You asked for a chance to clear your name,” Lord Faer said before Pieas could speak. “Here is your accuser, and several desert lords to hear your defense.”

  “You promised me a hearing in Conclave!” Pieas said. His hands knotted into fists.

  “I promised you a chance to defend yourself against the charges,” Lord Faer said with no trace of uncertainty. “That doesn't have to be in Conclave. Tell your story.”

  “I was being set up!” Pieas cried. “Lies, my lord, and manipulations. She had no basis for a challenge, but nobody would believe me!”

  “What were the charges, and what is your defense?”

  Pieas wet his lips and glanced around at the faces watching him.

  “I was accused of rape,” he said, “unfairly. The servant girl was a slut and threw herself at me. Lady Alyea came around the corner, the girl started to fight, and the lady decided I was raping her. I believe it was set up from the beginning, to put a bad name against me. The girl was a former servant of the lady; how can you view her actions without suspicion?”

  “Lady Alyea?” Faer said without a flicker of emotion in his voice or face. “How do you respond to that?”

  Alyea had to admit that Pieas seemed utterly sincere, even to her newly sharp senses.

  “I had no idea they were around that corner,” she said carefully. “I saw a struggle and separated them, and the girl claimed he had been forcing her. She had marks of rough handling, and I know her character; she's no slut. Pieas himself, when accused, did little more than sneer and swagger away, without the least guilt or remorse. I brought the matter before the king, with Pieas and Lord Eredion Sessin in attendance, and backed my charge with personal experience—”

  “More lies!” Pieas cried, but his gaze darted away from Alyea as he spoke. “I never touched you!”

  “That is a lie,” Lord Faer said immediately, a deep scowl forming on his face. “Don't be a fool. You're not good enough to lie in front of this many desert lords.”

  Pieas wet his lips again and glanced around.

  “Running now would be exceptionally stupid,” Lord Rest rumbled. “Hold still, boy.”

  Alyea stared. Lord Faer hadn't challenged Pieas's earlier statement about Wian; did that mean it had been true? She considered that for a moment, forcing herself to be fair, then said slowly, “I can speak to Pieas Sessin's actions regarding myself, but on the other matter, I only know what I saw when I came around that corner. I believed Wian when she told me it was rape. I still have a hard time believing she could have acted as Pieas claims she did.”

  “The girl came at me as I was returning to my rooms,” Pieas said. “She told me she found me handsome and had long wished for my attentions. She was attractive; I wasn't inclined to put her aside if she was so desperate to throw herself in my path. As soon as we were alone and I was roused, she sought to leave. I'll admit I was losing my temper when Lady Alyea came round the corner, and I'd hit the whore once already. She tried to claw at my eyes! I was defending myself.”

  Alyea drew a deep breath, hearing absolute truth in Pieas' voice.

  Lord Scratha's face remained stony. “And you had no knowledge of her previous to this?”

  Pieas shook his head. He looked at Alyea directly and went on, his voice wavering: “I admit to and apologize for my earlier offense. I used to experiment with—ah—exotic substances.” He looked away and lifted his chin, straightening to a stiff posture. “I've made mistakes. I'll do what I can to make amends.”

  “When you fled from us at Sandsplit Village,” Lord Scratha said unexpectedly, “you left Wian behind. Are you claiming you're not responsible for the state she was in?”

  “Sandsplit!” Alyea said before she could stop herself. “She should be safe in Bright Bay!”

  “She is now,” Scratha said without taking his attention from Pieas. “Answer the question!”

  Pieas's lips thinned. “No,” he said at last, “I won't say that.” He swallowed and shifted in place. When he went on, his voice had dropped to a near-whisper. “The people I used to deal with weren't pleased when I decided to distance myself from them. I believe they sent the girl after me to cause a scene, and when it wasn't as public as I think they wanted, they went looking for the girl . . . and left her in my apartments. I woke in the middle of the night. . . .” He made a vague gesture with both hands. “She'd been badly beaten. I knew nobody would believe I hadn't done anything to her. I couldn't leave her behind. I decided to follow Scratha and convince the girl to tell him the truth. But she fought me the whole way, screaming and clawing, and I had to restrain her with drugs and rope to make any speed.” He drew a deep breath and rubbed at his face with his hands. “It wasn't pleasant.”

  “You'll have us believe this entire accusation comes from the manipulations of a disgruntled potions dealer?” Lord Rest said skeptically.

  Pieas made a despairing motion with both hands. “It's the truth. I know I haven't been the most admirable person, my lords, but I've been trying to get free of my poor choices for months now. It's harder than I expected.”

  “Why did you decide to distance yourself from your former friends?” Lord Faer asked.

  Pieas looked as if he'd rather sink beneath the sand than answer that question. After a long, flushed moment, he said, barely audible, “My sister, Nissa.” He swallowed hard. “We've always been close. I could never refuse her anything if she leaned on me hard enough. She said she'd found someone she wanted to marry, if he'd have her, and if he knew who she was . . . that she was related to me . . . I had such a name that she didn't believe he would even look at her. She said she was going to have to lie about who she was, just to get his attention. She begged me to clear my name, so that when her lie was finally revealed, as she knew it would be, she could at least not have the shame of my behavior held against her.”

  Scratha's face held a grey tinge in the uncertain light.

  “She swore to me that if I cost her this chance,” Pieas said, “she'd never speak to me again, and do her damnedest to get me thrown from the family as a disgrace. I wouldn't have taken that from a single other person walking this earth, but she's my sister. I'd die to keep her happy.” He raised a ferocious glare to Scratha. The two stared at each other; and for the first time, Alyea thought Pieas looked the stronger man.

  Scratha looked away first, visibly shaken, but said nothing. Alyea didn't know what to believe. Everything she remembered of Wian said the girl couldn't have been involved in any such scheme to disgrace the son of a desert family, but she had heard no false notes in Pieas's voice. None of the desert lords seemed to doubt his word, and even Deiq offered no objection.

  She didn't envy Scratha his
new knowledge, either. Nissa was obviously naive about politics. She had apparently assumed Scratha's legendary hatred of Sessin Family came from her brother's disgraceful antics, and sought no deeper for a reason.

  Alyea met Pieas's gaze squarely. He almost quivered with tension and seemed more than a little sullen, like an asp-jacau that had been kicked too many times by its master; but his stare ran clear and honest.

  “I won't fight you, if you want to punish me for . . . for hurting you,” he said. “My mistakes are going to follow me all my life, and damage those around me on the way. At least I've had a chance to clear my name of the lies. That's all I wanted, for Nissa's sake.”

  “Why did you run?” she demanded.

  He grinned bitterly. “My own uncle was going to kill me. Nobody else would have defended me, once that was said. I didn't want Nissa thinking that I'd broken my promise. Once I knew Scratha wasn't going to listen to me, I decided to try my luck in the desert.”