Bonds of Vengeance

Chapter Thirteen

Solkara, Aneira, Osya’s Moon waxing

“You’re wasting time,” Henthas said, sulking in his chair.

Numar had to smile. “Perhaps. But it’s my time, not yours.”

There was a part of him that actually enjoyed seeing his brother so agitated. Certainly these discussions grew tiresome, but they also served a purpose, reminding Henthas that though he might have been duke of Solkara, Numar, in his capacity as regent, led their house now.

“The longer you remain regent to Carden’s child, the weaker you grow. She’s ten now, and with each year-”

“That’s right, Henthas: she’s ten. She has no claim to the throne for another six years. The fool’s way is to rush matters. And as we both know, I’m no fool.”

The duke’s face colored, and Numar nearly laughed aloud. He was no more a fool than Henthas was a jackal. Jackals were cunning; they were dangerous. His brother was neither. Numar had reduced him to little more than a lapdog, toothless and completely dependent on Numar’s goodwill.

“The dukes won’t follow a regent to war. You said yourself that Dantrielle was already showing signs of defiance. What if he can convince others to stand with him?”

“Then I’ll crush them, just as I intend to crush Tebeo. I don’t have to be king to wield power. Indeed, I believe in most respects you’re entirely wrong. As regent, I have as much sway with the dukes as I would as king, and far more goodwill. Wearing the crown, I become just another Solkaran tyrant, a man to be feared and distrusted, just as Carden was. But so long as I remain regent, I am merely the dead king’s younger brother, humbly serving the land in its time of need.”

Henthas snorted. “You honestly believe they see you that way?”

“Enough of them, yes. And I’m fully certain that were Kalyi to meet her untimely end anytime soon, it would mean my downfall, and Solkara’s as well. Killing a noble or two is one thing. Murdering the child-queen is quite another.”

He saw a quick smile touch his brother’s face and vanish, and there could be no mistaking the gleam in his brother’s eyes. There was just enough malice in Henthas to make the prospect of such an end to Numar’s reign attractive to him. He would never be king, and he would remain duke of Solkara regardless of the house’s standing in the realm. Indeed, Henthas was the sole person in the royal house who would actually benefit from the girl’s death, provided he escaped blame in the matter. With Kalyi gone, her mother, Chofya, the former queen, would no longer have any claim to the status she had first attained as Carden’s wife. Numar, if he weren’t hanged for killing the girl, would be relegated once more to the marquessate of Renbrere, leaving Henthas as Solkara’s leader. The Solkaran riches would belong to him, and any hope the house had of reclaiming the throne would rest with Henthas and his heirs. In light of how little power Henthas had now, he would have been mad not to consider such a course.

Fortunately, Numar had considered it as well.

“I know what you’re thinking, brother,” he said mildly. “I give you my word, you will be blamed for any harm that comes to the girl, not I.”

“How can you be so certain?”

He grinned, opening his hands as if to reveal the answer. “Which of us is the Jackal, and which is the Fool? The dukes may not yet trust me completely, but they’re genuinely afraid of you. To them, you’re just like Grigor. In fact, several of them are still convinced that you had as much to do with the poisoning of the queen and the Council of Dukes as our dear, late brother.”

“Thanks to you, no doubt.”

Numar merely shrugged.

“So what is it you want of me? You summoned me here. There must be something on your mind.”

“I require nothing but your patience, my lord duke. When the time comes, I’ll see to the girl. No one wants her dead more than I. But I’ve a war to fight as well, sooner rather than later if the missives from Curtell are to be believed. If all goes as the emperor says it will, we’ve much to gain from allying ourselves with Braedon. You need only to wait, and support me, and help keep the other dukes in the fold.”

“And how will my patience be rewarded?”

“Our success, and the continuation of the Solkaran Supremacy should be its own reward. But if you require more, I can offer you the lands of Dantrielle.”

Henthas sat forward. “Dantrielle?”

“If Tebeo opposes me, as I fully suspect he will, I’ll have little choice but to lay siege to his castle and seize his lands. The dukedom itself will remain, of course-my authority only goes so far. But as provided in the Volumes of Pernandis, his lesser holdings will be forfeit. And I’ll make certain that they’re given to you.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll have little choice, if he’s guilty of treason.”

Henthas shook his head. “I think you give the other dukes too little credit. As you said a moment ago, they chose you to be regent, not tyrant. They won’t stand by while you strip one of the major dukedoms of her lands. They might have allowed Father to do such a thing, but not you.”

“Treason is treason, Henthas, and the volumes are quite clear on the point. The other dukes will have no choice but to accept my decision.”

Henthas bared his teeth in what Numar took for a grin. “You think you’ve won already. Grigor was the same way, you know. He thought he’d won, and look how it turned out for him.”

“You forget. I’m the one who destroyed him. Grigor would have prevailed, but he took me too lightly. You’d be wise not to make the same mistake, brother.”

“You’re not as smart as you think you are, Numar. Not nearly.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m smarter than you.”

Henthas just stared back at him with an air of calm the regent had never seen in his brother before. That look, that air of grim resolve, frightened Numar far more than anything the duke had said to him. I know more than you think I do, it seemed to be telling him. I know things you don’t. Henthas had always been the least formidable of the brothers Renbrere, weaker than Grigor and Carden, with little of their intelligence. But he was still Tomaz the Ninth’s son, and thus a far more dangerous foe than nearly any other man in Aneira. Could he have finally mastered the art of court politics? Could he have discovered a path to power that Numar had missed?

The regent forced a smile. “We’re being foolish, brother. Father wouldn’t have wanted us to work at cross-purposes.”

Henthas actually laughed. “And would Father have wanted to see Grigor executed so that you could claim the regency?” He shook his head again. “This is a strange time for you to start worrying about what Father would and wouldn’t have wanted.”

“All right. I don’t want you as an enemy.”

The duke stood, still grinning. “It may be too late for that.”

“I’ve already offered you the lands of Dantrielle. What more do you want?”

“I’m not convinced that Dantrielle is yours to offer. To be honest, I’m not certain that you’re in a position to offer me anything at all.”

“You’re wrong,” Numar said. “Long after those who oppose me have fallen, I’ll still be leading this realm, as regent, or as king.”

“You haven’t the faintest idea who opposes you, brother, much less how to defeat them. I’ll enjoy watching the battle, however. I’ll enjoy watching you fail.”

There was a knock at the door, but for several moments they merely held each other’s gaze, neither of them moving. The knock came a second time and Henthas leered at him.

“Duty calls, brother.”

“Yes, who is it?” Numar demanded.

“The archminister,” came the reply. “Queen Kalyi is with me. She wishes to speak with you.”

Henthas looked like he might laugh once more. “You should see yourself now, Numar. You truly believe that playing nursemaid to the girl doesn’t weaken you in the eyes of your dukes? Just look in any mirror.” He reached for the door handle. “When you find the time.”

The duke opened the door, revealing Pronjed and the young queen. Seeing Henthas, Kalyi shied away, hiding behind the minister as if she expected the duke to make an attempt on her life right there. From the beginning of the regency, Numar had taken care in his conversations with the girl to portray Henthas as a threat, as a man who would murder her, despite their blood relation, to satisfy his ambitions. Chofya had done the same, he knew, though out of a sincere belief that her warnings were justified. Clearly, the girl had taken these admonitions to heart.

The minister stepped into the chamber, urging Kalyi to follow. “Lord Rembrere,” he said nodding to the regent. Then, to Henthas, he added an icy, “My lord.”

“Archminister,” Numar said, mustering another strained smile and wondering if his brother was right after all. He bowed to Kalyi, who could barely bring herself to tear her eyes from Henthas. “Your Highness.”

“I should be on my way,” Henthas said, with an effortless smile. He eyed the girl. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing as well.

Kalyi flinched, then seemed to will herself to step forward from the archminister’s shadow. “Uncle,” she said in a small voice.

His smile broadening, Henthas left the chamber, closing the door smartly behind him.

“Forgive the interruption, my lord,” Pronjed said. “But as I say, the queen requested a word.”

Numar continued to stare at the door a moment longer before facing the Qirsi. And here, no doubt, is another enemy. Pronjed did not appear terribly formidable, with his ghostly eyes and narrow, bony face. But Numar sensed that the minister disliked him, or, more precisely, that he saw the regent-perhaps the regency itself-as an obstacle to his own ambitions. He had often sensed that the man was hiding something from him, and had even wondered if the minister might be part of the Qirsi conspiracy, though he had no evidence to support his suspicions. Regardless of where the Qirsi’s loyalties lay, whether with Chofya or with the conspiracy, Numar knew that he couldn’t trust the man. Or rather, he couldn’t trust him fully. For while their ambitions might have been at odds, Numar and Pronjed both needed House Solkara to remain strong in order to realize them. Thus they needed each other, at least for the time being. Of this the regent was equally certain.

“There’s no need to apologize, Archminister. I’m usually glad for any reason to end a conversation with my brother.” He glanced at Kalyi and gave a wink. The child grinned back at him.

“Of course, my lord,” the minister said. “I’m certain we won’t take but a moment of your time.”

“Nonsense. I’m always happy to speak with my niece.”

She smiled again.

“You can go, Archminister,” the regent said, with a quick look toward the Qirsi. “Kalyi and I will be fine.”

Pronjed hesitated, as if unwilling to leave the two of them alone together. “Are you certain, my lord? I’m happy to stay.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Kalyi turned to the white-haired man. “Good-bye, Pronjed.”

She said it with such innocence-Numar felt certain she had no idea what she was doing. But it had the effect of a dismissal.

Looking displeased, the Qirsi bowed to both of them. “My lord. Your Highness.”

When they were alone, Numar took a seat by the hearth, gesturing for Kalyi to do the same.

“I trust you’re well, Your Highness.”

“Yes, uncle,” she said, sitting beside him. “Thank you.”

“Good. Your tutors tell me that your studies are going quite well. Not that I’m surprised, you being such an intelligent young woman. But I am pleased.”

Actually, the tutors told him little, and he asked even less. But he needed something to talk about.

Her cheeks reddened, but she smiled shyly. “Thank you, uncle.”

“It’s very important that you continue to learn about Aneira and her neighbors. A queen must be knowledgeable about both her allies and her enemies in order to rule wisely.”

“Yes, uncle. I’m working very hard. I didn’t know being queen would be so much work.”

“Oh, yes. All nobles work very hard, kings and queens most of all.”

She nodded, and they sat a moment in silence.

“You wished to speak with me?” Numar prompted.

“Yes.” She paused, twisting her mouth, as if uncertain as to how to say what was on her mind. “Were you and my father very close?” she finally asked.

The question caught him utterly unprepared. “We were brothers,” he said, hoping that would satisfy her. The truth was, none of the brothers Renbrere had ever shared anything even resembling affection. Carden and Grigor had been near enough in age to be rivals in every endeavor. Henthas had always been too full of spite and envy to be close to anyone. Even their mother had been afraid of him. And the three older ones had been so wary of each other that they barely took notice of Numar.

She frowned. “I know you were brothers. But Henthas and my father were brothers, too. And I don’t think my father liked him very much.”

A clever response.

“Your father and I were closer to each other than we were to Henthas.”

“Did it surprise you that he killed himself?”

He narrowed his eyes. Where was she going with this? “Yes. I suppose it did.”

Kalyi nodded. “Me, too. He always told me never to be afraid, that a soldier or a king learned to master his fear. I don’t think my father was afraid of anything.”

“Your father was a very brave man.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t think he would kill himself.”

Numar blinked. “What?”

She looked down at her hands, which she was twisting and turning in her lap. “Well, it seems to me that a person would have to be very afraid of something to want to kill himself. And you said yourself that my father was brave.”

“Your father was dying, Kalyi. The surgeon had told him so. That was why-” He was going to say, That was why Carden had the man garroted, but he thought better of it. There were other things he could have said to put her off, but he was forced to admit that she had a point. Numar and his brothers had given little thought to Carden’s death at the time it happened. They had seen it as an opportunity to be exploited, rather than a mystery to be explored. But thinking of it now, it did seem a strange way for Carden to die.

“So you think my father was afraid of dying?”

“I’m not certain,” he admitted. “But clearly you don’t.”

She shook her head.

“What is this about, Kalyi? Why are we speaking of your father’s death?”

“Because I want to know why he did it.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. “I’d like your permission to try to find out.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “You don’t need my permission for this. You’re queen. This is your castle.”

Her face brightened. She so resembled her mother, with her dark hair and eyes. Even the golden circlet on the girl’s brow had once belonged to Chofya. It wasn’t the traditional headpiece of an Aneiran ruler, but it was far more fitting for the girl than was the great crown worn once by her father, and it became her, making her look older than she was and even prettier. She would be a beautiful woman and queen, were she to live that long.

“Really?” she said.

“Of course.” Chances were there was no mystery here at all. Numar had never imagined that Carden would die by his own hand, but there was no telling what a man might do when confronted with the prospect of his own death. Carden was brave, but he was also proud to a fault. Forced to chose between a quick death and a lingering one, turn upon turn wasting away in his shuttered bedroom, he probably would have chosen the former.

But what if the girl was right? What if there was more to this than any of them had guessed? With the surgeon dead, they might never know for certain. But it couldn’t hurt to have the child ask some questions. At least it would keep her busy while Numar saw to more important matters.

“If anyone refuses to help you,” he said, “tell them that I’ve asked you to look into this.”

She practically leaped to her feet, so eager was she to begin. “Thank you, uncle.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.”

She ran to the door, then stopped, facing him again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“I mean about Father’s death.”

He paused briefly. “All right.”

“They didn’t let me see his. . see him. After, I mean. Did you see him?”

“No. By the time I arrived in Solkara, he had been taken to the cloister.”

“Well, everyone seemed so certain that he killed himself. I was wondering how they knew.”

Numar winced. The girl might have been intelligent beyond her years, but she was still only ten. Perhaps he had been too quick to encourage her in this endeavor. If Chofya learned that he had given Kalyi permission to look into Carden’s death, she’d have his head.

“I don’t think it’s my place to say. It’s enough for you to know that it was, from all I’ve been told, a rather gruesome sight. But not one that could be misconstrued. There can be little doubt that your father took his own life, Kalyi. I wish I could say there was, but I’d be lying to you. Your inquiry will be best served if you limit yourself to questions of why, rather than how.” He offered a sympathetic smile. “Do you understand?”

The girl nodded, looking far less hopeful than she had a moment before. “Yes, uncle. Thank you.”

She let herself out of the room, leaving Numar to ponder whether he had just made a terrible mistake.

The girl hadn’t been gone more than a few moments when there came yet another knock at the door. Pronjed.

“What do you want?” the regent asked as the Qirsi let himself into the chamber.

“You’ve had a busy morning, my lord. First the duke and now the queen.”

Numar raised an eyebrow. “Are you spying on me, Archminister?”

The Qirsi gave an easy laugh. “Of course not, my lord. But if I’m to serve you and this house, I should know as much as possible about the matters that occupy you.”

“I assure you, Archminister, if I determine that any of my private conversations pertain to you in any way, I’ll be certain to let you know.”

“You don’t trust me, my lord?”

The regent allowed himself a small grin. “No, I don’t. Nor do you trust me.”

“And yet we have a good deal to gain from working together.”

“I was thinking the same thing just a short time ago.”

Pronjed smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, my lord. Perhaps we can agree at last to put aside our differences, for the good of the queen, of course.”

“Of course.”

The Qirsi just gazed at him, as if waiting for something.

“Is there anything else, Archminister?”

“In fact there is, my lord. I’ve been charged by the queen mother with the responsibility of overseeing the girl’s studies.”

“And so you wish to know what we discussed.”

Pronjed shrugged. “If I may be so bold as to ask.”

“It was nothing, Archminister. She questioned me about her father.”

“Her father, my lord?” Something in the way the minister’s expression changed gave the regent pause.

“Yes. She wanted to know if we had been close as children. If I remembered what Carden was like as a boy, before he became duke and king.” He smiled. “It’s only natural, really. Having lost him at so tender an age, she finds herself desperate to learn all she can of him. Still, I thought it touching in a way, and just a bit sad.”

“Indeed.” The minister pressed the tips of his fingers together. “And your conversation with the duke? What was that about?”

He would have liked to tell the man to mind his own affairs, that a regent did not answer to a mere minister. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he told Pronjed the truth.

“He fears that I’m wasting time. That I ought to be planning for the girl’s murder already.”

“Why does he think this?”

“Because he thinks the dukes are more likely to follow a king than a regent.”

“He sees no danger in killing the girl so soon?”

“He claims not to, but I think there’s a part of him that would like to see me fail.”

“Even knowing that your failure could bring an end to the Solkaran Supremacy?”

“Yes.”

“How did you respond when he urged you to kill the girl?”

“I told him to be patient, that eventually I would rule Aneira as king, and when I did he would be rewarded for supporting me.”

“And did he pledge his support?”

“No. He thinks I’m destined to fail. He says I have enemies close by who will destroy me.”

“Did he say who they were?”

“No.”

The minister said something else, though Numar couldn’t say for certain what it was. Indeed, a moment later he found that he couldn’t remember at all what he had just been saying.

“My lord?”

He stared at the Qirsi for a moment. “What?”

“You were telling me that you’ve yet to hear from the emperor as to his request for soldiers.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. And so you don’t know how high to set the quotas for the other houses.”

“That’s right, I don’t. I expect it will be at least five hundred men from each.”

“Some of the dukes may object. Dantrielle, for instance.”

“Yes. Dantrielle, Bistari, perhaps Tounstrel. I’m aware of the problem.” He frowned. The man always seemed to be prying into Numar’s affairs, as if he considered himself regent. “The dukes are my concern, Archminister. I’d ask you to leave them to me.”

The Qirsi inclined his head slightly and stood. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me. I’ll leave you now.”

“Yes, please.”

He watched the minister leave, and only when the door finally closed did he feel his anger begin to sluice away. He would have to be more wary of Pronjed. The man was probably every bit as dangerous as Henthas. Numar walked back to his writing table and began to search for the most recent message from Braedon’s emperor. After a few moments he paused, however, gazing at the door once more.

Something about his conversation with the Qirsi disturbed him. If only he could remember what it was.

Pronjed strode through the castle corridors, his rage threatening to break free at any instant. It was bad enough that he had to humiliate himself before the Weaver, begging his forgiveness for actions that should have been lauded rather than punished. But to have to tolerate such treatment from the regent was almost too much. Numar might have been intelligent for an Eandi, he might even have been the canniest of the brothers Renbrere, but he was still a weak-minded oaf. Bending the man’s will and mind was proving itself all too easy. Unfortunately, what he had learned from this most recent encounter had disturbed him greatly. Numar, it seemed, was but one dolt among many.

Reaching the door he sought, he rapped hard on the oak and pushed the door open in response to the summons from within.

He was careful to close the door before saying anything. But once it was shut, he whirled toward the figure standing by the open window, leveling a rigid finger at him.

“You’re a fool!”

Henthas grinned, though his eyes blazed angrily. “No, Archminister. I’m a Jackal, remember. I believe you’ve just come from the Fool.”

“This is no joke!”

“ ‘This is no joke, my lord.’ Isn’t that what you mean?”

“You told him he had enemies in the castle?” Pronjed said, ignoring comment. “You told him that he was destined to fail?”

Henthas eyed him keenly. “How do you know what I said to him?”

“I have my sources. I’ve lived in this castle, and among these people, far longer than you have.”

“You had someone listening to our conversation?”

“Why would you tell him these things? Are you so childish that you just have to gloat, or is it more than that?” He took a step toward the man. “Are you planning to betray me to him? Is that it? Are you playing both sides of this?”

He knew, of course, that Henthas was doing just that, but he needed to give the duke an opportunity to deny it. Which the man did, quite convincingly.

“Calm yourself, Archminister. I’m not planning to betray you, and I’ve done far less damage than you seem to think. Numar has never trusted you-you’ve been Chofya’s ally from the very beginning, at least that’s how it seemed to Numar, and to Grigor as well. He’s thought of you as his enemy for so long that I’d imagine he’s looking elsewhere trying to decide who I meant. All I’ve done is confuse him.”

Pronjed exhaled through his teeth and straightened. The duke was probably right, though that did little to ease the minister’s frustration with the man. He shouldn’t have spoken to the regent of enemies, nor should he have been encouraging the man to kill the girl-queen. Of course he could say nothing about that part of their discussion, not without making Henthas even more curious about the sources of his information.

Apparently the duke’s thoughts had wandered in a similar direction.

“What else do you know about what Numar and I said to one another?”

“Very little. Perhaps you’d care to tell me more.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You still think he means to do harm to the queen?”

“I believe it’s possible. Numar wants to be king, and the girl stands in his path.”

“You want to be king, too.”

His face colored. “Yes, I do. But I know that the dukes will never allow such a thing. They’d overthrow the Supremacy before they accepted me as their ruler. That’s why Numar is so dangerous for the girl. They’d believe him innocent of any crime against her. I doubt Chofya will ever believe this, but I’m far more suited to be regent than my brother.”

“Because your reputation is so poor that you could never get away with murdering the child.”

“Precisely.”

Pronjed gave a thin smile. “Such reasoning hardly flatters you, my lord.”

“No,” the man said, “I don’t suppose it does. But you can’t deny that it makes sense.”

It was hard to know just what Henthas had in mind to accomplish with all his machinations. The minister could have used magic to divine his thoughts, just as he had with Numar, but he thought it safer to employ such tactics against only one of them. And though the regent had made the mistake of taking his brother too lightly, Pronjed still considered Numar the more intelligent of the two brothers, and therefore the more dangerous. Thus he had to content himself with gleaning what he could of Henthas’s intentions from his conversations with the man, and from his probing of Numar’s mind.

It seemed that the duke hoped to raise Pronjed’s fears of Numar, claiming that he did so out of concern for the queen, and as a secret ally of Chofya. At the same time, he plotted with the regent, urging him to kill the girl. No doubt he hoped that any attempt on Kalyi’s life would confirm all he had said to Pronjed of Numar’s dark ambitions. If the girl survived, Numar’s disgrace would hand him the regency. If she died, Numar would be executed, and he would claim the throne.

The role he envisioned for Pronjed in all of this was even less apparent. Clearly he needed to have someone else calling Numar a murderer, since no one would trust him to tell the truth. But more than that, he had probably guessed that Numar would attempt to blame him for Kalyi’s death. He needed Pronjed to protect him from his brother.

“So,” Henthas began after a long silence, “do you intend to speak to Chofya of this?”

“She should probably know that the queen’s life is in danger,” Pronjed said. “But if you’d prefer to tell her yourself, I’ll keep silent.”

The duke shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I. . I don’t think she’d believe any of this coming from me. And then the danger to Kalyi would remain. You should tell her.”

“What if I don’t believe you?”

Henthas frowned. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Any number of reasons. Your reputation, all that you have to gain from destroying your brother, all that you could gain from killing the queen yourself and making it seem that the regent was responsible. You came to me some time ago, indicating that you would help me keep the girl alive, and telling me that Numar was my enemy. But I’ve seen no evidence of any of this beyond your word.” He opened his hands. “And I’m afraid that doesn’t count for very much.”

Henthas gave that same thin smile again. “What is it you want?”

This had to be handled delicately. The Weaver wanted Solkara weakened as war with Eibithar drew nearer, but Henthas would resist any action that was too obvious. And with relations between the brothers deteriorating, there was no guarantee that Numar would listen to him anyway. Still, Pronjed had to try.

“What do you think of this war your brother is planning with the emperor?”

“If it succeeds, it will strengthen the realm and our house for generations. If it fails, it will probably mean the end of the Supremacy.”

“Do you think it will fail?”

Henthas stared at him, his eyes narrowing. “Perhaps I should ask the same of you, Archminister.”

“I’m not certain I know what you mean.”

“Then allow me to be more explicit. For some time now I’ve wondered when this conspiracy of which we’ve heard so much might strike at House Solkara. Ours is the leading house in the realm, after all, and if the rumors reaching Aneira from throughout the Forelands are to be believed, the Qirsi have been more than willing to strike at other royal houses. I find it impossible to fathom that the conspiracy would ignore us. Which leads to a most obvious question: who is the traitor in our midst?”

Pronjed stood motionless, struggling to ease the pounding of his pulse. He had anticipated such an accusation from Numar-not because he thought the regent knew anything for certain but because it would have served the man’s purposes to raise doubts about Pronjed’s loyalty. But for Henthas to have reasoned it through. . This was the last thing he had expected.

“Are you asking me if I am this traitor?”

“Would that surprise you?”

“Yes, my lord, it would. I’ve served House Solkara for many years, and no one has ever questioned my loyalty.”

“Nevertheless, I must ask. Are you a traitor?”

The minister let out a short laugh. “How am I to answer? Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t?”

“Probably not. But neither would I have you hanged if you said you were. At least not right away.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We’re both traitors, Archminister.”

“I never said-”

“That you were part of the conspiracy? Of course you didn’t. You don’t have to. Even without such an admission, you’re guilty of treason, as am I. We speak openly of defying the regent, of undermining his power. Yes, we do so to save the queen, but it’s still treason. It matters little if you have compounded that betrayal by joining the conspiracy. If one of us decides to betray the other, we’re both dead men.”

Pronjed wasn’t certain what to say. The duke’s accusations left him shaken; the man’s reassurances only confused him.

“You needn’t look so worried, Pronjed. I don’t intend to speak of this to anyone, at least not for a while. Regardless of where your loyalties lie, our interests are the same for now. We both need House Solkara to remain strong and we both need to keep Numar from growing too powerful, which means that we share a desire to keep the queen safe. At some point in the future, our interests will diverge, and I make no promises about what I will and won’t do then. But for now, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“You speak of treason with unsettling ease, my lord. I assure you, I am no traitor. I may speak against the regent, but only because you tell me that he threatens the queen, to whom I owe my allegiance.”

Even the minister could hear how hollow his denials sounded, but he had little choice but to offer them anyway. The duke would expect no less.

“Of course, Archminister,” Henthas said, sounding unconvinced. “You understand, I had to ask.”

“Of course, my lord.” He paused. Then, “Perhaps I should go.”

“Probably.”

He turned toward the door, but the duke spoke his name, stopping him.

“My lord?”

The man was grinning once more, as if he had just won a great victory, looking every bit the jackal. “I trust you’ll never come in here again calling me a fool, or questioning my actions.”

Pronjed had to stifle a retort. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Now get out.”

The archminister stalked from the chamber, gritting his teeth. It would be a pleasure killing the man. Killing them both, actually. The brothers Renbrere.

In good time.