by Raby, Amy
It was no guard at all but Taya, who inexplicably carried a wilted branch in her hand.
Seeing her lightened his heart. All at once, his pain and stiffness eased. “Taya,” he said, drawing her eye to him.
A line appeared in the middle of her forehead—she must be worried about his condition.
“I’m all right,” he said.
“Nobody said you could come in here, Coalition,” said Bel-Sumai. “Get out.”
Taya did not obey, but closed the door behind her. “You’re not taking Mandir with you.” She looked Bel-Sumai in the eye. “He didn’t kill Tufan. You did.”
Time seemed to stop as the guards absorbed this accusation. Mandir wondered what game she was playing. Had she actually determined that Bel-Sumai was the murderer, or was this a delaying tactic?
“Outrageous,” said Bel-Sumai. “My job is to protect Tufan.”
“Fine job you did of that,” said Taya.
“Failing to protect my charge is not the same as killing him,” said Bel-Sumai. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, but your partner murdered Tufan. We know because the poison used to murder him was found among your partner’s personal items.”
“Because Bel-Zaidu planted it there,” said Taya.
Bel-Sumai’s brows rose—that accusation, naming Bel-Zaidu specifically, had hit home. Clearly Taya had learned something since yesterday. Mandir leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.
“I know,” said Taya, “because Mother Isatis showed me in a fire vision.”
“She seems to have shown nobody else,” said Bel-Sumai. “These fire visions are awfully convenient for you. You can accuse anyone you want of anything you want, and attribute it all to the goddess. Why don’t we all be fire seers? ‘Bel-Zaidu spit in my wine; I know because I saw it in a fire vision!’ What nonsense.”
Taya turned to Mandir. “I know now how Tufan was killed. The two nepenthe vials held different concentrations of the drug. Gadatas’s vial was ten times stronger than Tufan’s. The guards swapped the contents of the vials, causing Tufan to poison himself with an accidental overdose. Yanzu did the same thing when he stole Tufan’s nepenthe to ease his pain, although nobody intended for him to die.”
Mandir blinked, intrigued by this theory. But it didn’t entirely make sense. “How could the two vials be of different strengths? Gadatas was taking one drop, and that’s what Tufan used to take. They’re the same.”
“Maybe that was true when you were a child here,” said Taya. “But it’s not true now. Tufan must have switched suppliers, because now he uses a dilute variety and takes ten drops. When the guards put the stronger nepenthe in his vial, Tufan and Yanzu ended up taking ten times too much.”
How she’d worked that out, Mandir had no idea, but he knew she wouldn’t make the accusation if she didn’t have some evidence to back it up. And it sent his mind spinning. Had Bel-Sumai and the other guards truly murdered the man they’d been charged with protecting? What a shocking betrayal of King Izdubar. Mandir had known from the beginning that the guards possessed ample opportunity to kill Tufan; what they lacked was motive. “Why would you do such a thing?” he asked Bel-Sumai.
“I didn’t kill anybody—”
“Of course not, you just swapped the contents of the vials so Tufan would kill himself.” Mandir snorted. “Nice and detached, no blood, no mess, you get to keep your hands clean. What a cowardly way to kill somebody.”
“I didn’t kill Tufan!” said Bel-Sumai. “You did.”
“What you did wasn’t just murder,” said Mandir. “It was treason.”
“I would never betray my king,” Bel-Sumai snapped. “Your partner’s theories are wild conjecture.” He turned to Taya. “What evidence do you have that the contents of the vials were swapped?”
“In a fire vision—” she began.
“Of course, a fire vision.” Bel-Sumai rolled his eyes.
“In a fire vision,” she repeated, “I saw Yanzu enter this room through the window and tip ten drops of nepenthe from Tufan’s vial into a cup. I assume he took it for pain, since he’d been stabbed that night during his fight with Runawir. I have it on good authority that ten drops is the normal dose when Tufan’s children steal his nepenthe, and yet it killed him. Tufan, presumably taking his usual nightly dose—ten drops—died in the same way.”
Mandir was beginning to put it all together. If the contents of the vials had been swapped and Tufan’s vial had become ten times stronger, Gadatas’s vial had become ten times weaker. “That explains why Gadatas was shaking!” He leaned forward, his muscles straining against their bonds. “His vial of nepenthe became weaker, so that when he took his customary dose, he wasn’t getting as much as he usually did. That’s why he had withdrawal sickness!”
“Even if I accept that the contents of the vials were swapped,” said Bel-Sumai, “it’s clear that Mandir was the one who did it. Since he had possession of the second vial.”
“Because Bel-Zaidu took it from Gadatas and planted it in Mandir’s saddlebag,” said Taya. “Gadatas can confirm this. He won’t talk about it right now because he’s afraid of being beaten and strangled again by Bel-Zaidu, who threatened his life. But if I take him to safety among the Coalition, he can tell the authorities the real story.”
Mandir saw by the look on Bel-Sumai’s face that Taya’s words were hitting home. Her case didn’t depend entirely on fire visions; she had a witness. Not the most reliable of witnesses, given that he was a nepenthe addict, but apparently he could verify that Bel-Zaidu had stolen and planted the vial. That was, indeed, damning to the guards’ case.
He wouldn’t like to be Gadatas right now. If the man’s life hadn’t been in danger before, it certainly was now. Mandir wished he and Taya had some physical evidence, something that wasn’t fire visions and wasn’t Gadatas either. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s test both nepenthe vials. We can catch a couple of rabbits. Feed one of them a drop from Tufan’s vial and the other a drop from Gadatas’s vial and see if they react differently.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Taya.
“Preposterous,” said Bel-Sumai. “We’ve no time to hunt rabbits, and even if you’re right about the contents being swapped, anyone could have swapped them.”
Clearly Bel-Sumai would do nothing but deny Taya’s accusations. It was time to put an end to this farce. Mandir called fire into the ropes that bound his ankles and pulled. The ropes parted. Then he did the same to the ropes that bound his wrists. He rose from the chair, letting his arms swing forward into their natural position. Pain flooded stiff muscles as the blood rushed back into them.
“Sit down,” demanded Bel-Sumai, even as he retreated a step.
“No,” said Mandir. “I’m done with sitting down.”
Bel-Sumai and Bel-Ditana pulled their bronze swords from the sheaths.
Mandir eyed the swords. “Are you threatening me with those, when you saw what I did to your ropes?”
Bel-Sumai lowered his weapon, as if offering a parley. “You know you can’t do this. I’m an agent of the king—”
“Not for much longer. Not after he learns that you killed his son.”
“If you refuse to stand trial for your crime,” said Bel-Sumai, “you might flee to your Coalition Temple easily enough, but your respite there will be short. It won’t be long before the king sends an army and demands that the Coalition hand you over.”
“You’ve got balls of bronze, I’ll grant you that,” said Mandir. “You could have accused any of my brothers, who could hardly have defended themselves, but you chose to point your finger at a Coalition mage. Could it be that you want to spark a conflict between the Coalition and the crown?”
“I’m trying to avoid a conflict,” said Bel-Sumai. “That’s why I’m asking you to come peacefully.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” said Mandir.
Footsteps approached, and they all turned toward the door, which opened to reveal Bel-Apsu.
Bel-Apsu looked at the scen
e and blinked. “What’s going on? Did you know there’s...” He trailed off and, seeing that his partners had drawn their swords, he drew his own.
Mandir considered the odds. It was three against two, assuming that Taya would help him. It could end up four against two if Bel-Zaidu showed up, but their magic evened the odds. He’d like to subdue the guards without killing them, but that might not be possible. Fire was a destructive force, not much good for subduing an enemy. Maybe he could do this the old-fashioned way.
He called fire into all of the guards’ sword hilts at once.
The hilts turned red-hot, and the guards dropped their weapons. Judging Bel-Sumai to be the greatest threat of the three, Mandir charged at him with the force of a crazed zebu.
∞
“Mandir!” Taya cried. A fight had broken out, and she didn’t know what to do. The guards had lost their swords, but they still had their fists, and there were three of them against a lone Mandir. She had to find a way to help, but she didn’t want to burn anyone to death.
Bel-Sumai was on the floor and gasping for breath. Mandir’s initial charge had knocked the wind out of him, but as she watched, Bel-Ditana hit Mandir and took him to the ground. The two of them grappled.
Bel-Apsu ran to help his fellows. Taya knew a third opponent would be too much for Mandir. Operating on instinct, she called a wall of fire in front of Bel-Apsu. He skidded to a halt and then tried to go around it. Taya extended the flames, blocking that route. He tried going around the other side, and she blocked that as well.
Changing tactics, he turned and charged at her.
She threw up a second fire wall to block him.
She had him pinned on all sides now, in a makeshift cage of fire. The cage was sloppy and bigger than it needed to be, so she tightened it and moved the cage slowly toward the wall, forcing him to go with it.
Holding him there, out of the fight, she turned her attention to Mandir. Bel-Ditana lay on the floor, apparently unconscious, and Mandir had his knee in the small of Bel-Sumai’s back, pinning him. Bel-Sumai yelled incoherent threats as Mandir pulled his arms back to bind him.
Mandir glanced up at her. “Can you get me some rope?”
“Where would I find it?”
“The chest.”
Concentrating to maintain the fire cage that held Bel-Apsu, she went to the chest and found the rope. She threw it to Mandir, who bound Bel-Sumai’s wrists and ankles.
“Let me out!” Bel-Apsu cried. “I’m burning up in here.”
Taya lowered the height of the fire cage enough to see his face. He was hot and sweaty, but he wasn’t burning to death.
She left him there while Mandir tied the unconscious Bel-Ditana.
Mandir stood. He cocked his head at the fire cage that held Bel-Apsu. “Nice work. I’ve never seen you do that before.”
“I’ve never seen me do that before either,” said Taya.
“It’s a handy trick; I wish I had that kind of control. You can let him go now.”
Taya let her fire walls drizzle away.
Bel-Apsu, newly freed but sweating and overheated, threw a couple of weak punches at Mandir, who dodged them and then kicked his legs out from under him. Taya threw him the rope again, and Mandir bound Bel-Apsu.
“There’s still Bel-Zaidu,” she pointed out. “And I don’t know where he is.”
“Find Gadatas,” panted Mandir. “He’s the only witness we have, and we need to protect him.”
“Right.” She glanced at the spotted corobane in her hand. She’d never gotten around to explaining its significance, but perhaps it didn’t matter anymore. Now that hostilities had broken out, it would be hard if not impossible to resolve the conflict between Bel-Sumai and Mandir over Bel-Sumai’s long-ago poisoned dog.
She dropped the corobane and ran from the room.
Chapter 29
Taya sprinted to Gadatas’s quarters. If Bel-Zaidu had seen the fighting in Tufan’s chamber, he might move immediately to kill the only witness to their crime. But as she rounded the back of the house, she saw Bel-Zaidu near the entrance to the compound, surrounded by an enormous group of unfamiliar men and horses.
She stopped short. Who were these people?
The men were tattooed with stars on their faces, which meant they were palace guards. One of them had two stars and must be a veteran. Why would a large group of palace guards come here? Bel-Sumai had not sent a messenger to the palace about Tufan’s death. These new men could not possibly know what had happened.
She counted fourteen new arrivals, twelve of them on horseback and two sitting on the driver’s seat of a horse-drawn wagon. For a moment, she had the thought that this might be nothing more than a routine delivery of supplies. But surely that wouldn’t require so many guards, and the wagon wasn’t laden with goods.
Bel-Zaidu spoke to the man in front, the veteran guard.
These new men would naturally be allies of Bel-Sumai and the others. If they discovered what she and Mandir had just done, another fight was likely to break out—and this time she and Mandir would be more seriously outnumbered.
Perhaps she should run back and warn Mandir about this unexpected situation. They could grab Setsi and Nindar and flee the compound. But, as Bel-Sumai had correctly pointed out, their respite would be short. The guards would pursue them, catching up to them at the Coalition temple if not sooner. She’d have to warn Mandir so they could figure out what to do, but perhaps she should first learn why the men were here.
She approached the group, trying to look casual.
The conversation between Bel-Zaidu and the veteran guard appeared sober and concerned. There were no smiles, no jokes, and none of the touching of fingers she might expect from a reunion of long-separated fellow guards.
When she reached them, she asked, “What’s going on?”
The veteran guard looked her over. “Who are you?”
“She’s Coalition,” said Bel-Zaidu. “She’s the partner to that man I was telling you about.”
“My name is Taya,” she said. “What did you tell him about Mandir?”
“That’s not important right now,” said the veteran guard. “Taya, I’m here because King Izdubar has been given to Isatis.”
She gasped. “The king is dead?”
“Yes, and—”
“Was he sick?” Taya struggled to process this information. King Izdubar had ruled over the river country longer than she’d been alive. She had never met him. She knew him only as a public figure, not as a person, and part of her had subconsciously assumed he would be around forever.
“Yes, he had been sick,” said the veteran. “The throne now passes jointly to his three sons. We came here to collect Prince Tufan and escort him to the palace for his joint coronation.”
Taya sent a panicked look at Bel-Zaidu.
“I told him about the situation here,” Bel-Zaidu explained.
“How long ago did King Izdubar die?” asked Taya. Mandir had been accused of killing a prince, but depending on the timing of Izdubar’s death, the accusation might now be that he’d killed a king. Of course Mandir hadn’t killed anybody, but the guards would swear he had, and the fact that he’d just disarmed and tied up three of those guards would not be a point in his favor. This turn of events could turn to disaster.
“He died ten days ago,” said the caravan guard.
Then yes, whoever had killed Tufan had killed not a prince but a king. “What will you do now? Given that the man you came to escort to the palace has gone to Isatis like his father.”
“Bel-Zaidu was telling me that he and Bel-Sumai and the others meant to return to the palace today with the news, and with the man who will face trial for the crime of killing Tufan,” said the veteran guard. “We need to rest our horses, but I imagine we’ll all travel together.”
“I see.” She needed to do something quickly, before they discovered the situation in Tufan’s chambers, and she and Mandir and the guards ended up in an all-out war.
“
I’ll show you to the stable,” said Bel-Zaidu to the guards. “You can cool out your horses and let them rest for a while. Then we can get on with our business.”
Good, that gave Taya a little bit of time. As Bel-Zaidu gestured the guards toward the stable, Taya walked casually back in the direction she’d come. When she rounded the corner of the main house and was out of sight, she ran.
∞
Taya reached Tufan’s chambers, panting from her sprint across the grounds. The guards were still tied up on the floor in the bedroom, and Mandir was examining the two nepenthe vials. One she recognized from Gadatas’s quarters. It was the vial that had been planted in Mandir’s saddlebag. The other was less familiar and must be Tufan’s nepenthe, which she’d seen only from a distance in her fire vision. It was a larger vial than the other, but because its fluid level was low, it appeared to hold about as much nepenthe as the smaller one.
“Fourteen guards are here from the palace,” she blurted.
Mandir’s head popped up. “What?”
“They say the king has died. They were to escort Tufan to the palace for coronation, but...well, obviously that’s not going to happen, and I think we need to get out of here before the situation gets out of control.”
The bound guards twisted their heads around. “King Izdubar is dead?” asked Bel-Sumai.
“Yes,” said Taya.
Mandir stared at her, stunned.
“I know it’s a shock,” she said, “but we can’t stay here. Those men are going to come to the main house soon, and if we have to fight them, it’s not going to end well. For them, I mean.”
Mandir turned to Bel-Sumai. “Did you know about this?”
Taya blinked, puzzled. “He couldn’t have known. It happened ten days ago, far away from here.”
“Did you know?” Mandir repeated.
“Of course I didn’t know about the king’s death,” said Bel-Sumai. “How could I?”
“What did the king die of?” Mandir asked Taya.
“I don’t know,” said Taya. “They said he was sick.”