Shapers of Darkness

Chapter Five

Curtell, Braedon

It gnawed at his mind like wood ants attacking old timber.

He could see the emperor’s plans taking shape, and so the Weaver’s as well. The master of arms trained his men with growing urgency; the quartermaster gathered provisions for Braedon’s army like some forest beast hoarding food for the snows; and Emperor Harel himself wandered about the palace daily, overseeing the preparations. At other times Kayiv jal Yivanne might go an entire turn without seeing the emperor at all, despite being a minister in Harel’s court. Now he saw the man constantly.

And each time the emperor came near, the minister had to resist an urge to warn him of Dusaan jal Kania’s betrayal, to tell him that the leader of this movement that had struck fear into the hearts of every Eandi noble in the Forelands resided here, in his own palace.

He didn’t dare, of course. If the high chancellor really was a Weaver-and the minister had come to believe beyond any doubt that he was-he would find a way to kill Kayiv, even if he was branded as a traitor. More to the point, the minister wasn’t certain that he wanted Dusaan unmasked, at least not yet. Kayiv had long dreamed of a day when a Qirsi in the Forelands could aspire to being more than merely a minister or a festival entertainer. He disliked the high chancellor; he had since first coming to the emperor’s palace three years before, and when Nitara ja Plin ended their affair and made it clear that she now desired Dusaan, that dislike had deepened to hatred. But there could be no denying that the man was both cunning and powerful. If anyone could lead the Qirsi to victory, he could.

Still, not even Kayiv’s contempt for Eandi nobles like Harel could entirely overcome his fear of Dusaan. Even when he allowed himself to envision all that the success of the Qirsi movement might mean, he found his anticipation of this glorious future tempered by his knowledge of the man who would be the Foreland’s first Qirsi king. The emperor was a weak-minded fool. The Solkarans of Aneira were uncultured brutes, and Eibithar’s major houses had shown again and again that they were too concerned with their petty squabbles and limited ambitions to rule their people properly. Those who reigned in the other realms were no better. Nine centuries of Eandi rule had proved beyond doubt that Ean’s children were poorly suited to being kings and queens and emperors.

But would Dusaan be any better? As much as Kayiv wanted to believe so, all he knew of the man convinced him otherwise. He had seen how ruthless the high chancellor could be, and he sensed that Dusaan would be a savage, merciless ruler. Yes, the man was Qirsi, but a tyrant was a tyrant, no matter the color of his eyes.

It had been more than half a turn since Stavel jal Miraad, the elder chancellor, had come to him with evidence that Dusaan was offering false counsel to the emperor, convincing Kayiv that the high chancellor was a Weaver and the leader of the Qirsi cause. In the days since, the minister had grappled with his doubts, wondering if he could continue to support the Qirsi cause knowing where its triumph would lead, wondering if he possessed the strength or the courage to oppose Dusaan should he decide on such a course. To his dismay, he had come to understand that he was a coward at heart, a man who had hungered for Qirsi rule so long as the cost wasn’t too great, and who would allow his land to suffer at the hands of a demon rather than risk his life opposing him. No wonder Nitara had chosen Dusaan, despite the nearly two years Kayiv and she had been in love, and the countless passionate nights they had spent together. The high chancellor led a movement that might well change the course of history in the Forelands, and he looked like a warrior, with his broad shoulders and wild hair. Kayiv could offer her nothing more than his heart and devotion, and it seemed Nitara had grown weary of these.

But though he no longer hoped to win back the minister, in recent days Kayiv had begun to see that there might be a way to combat the Weaver without placing himself in harm’s way. It was the coward’s path. He knew that. Still he thought it better to do something, anything, than to sit by idly as Dusaan brought ruin to all the land.

Oddly, his plan demanded that he turn for help not only to Stavel, but also to the Eandi in Harel’s court, something the minister never thought he might do. He hated the Eandi, and had nearly all his life. He still believed that the Forelands would be a far better place were its realms led by Qirsi nobles. As for Stavel, for as long as he could remember he had been disgusted by the blind devotion with which the older chancellors served Harel, and to his mind, none had been worse in this regard than Stavel. The chancellor embodied all that Kayiv hated about his own people’s history in the Forelands. The man debased himself with his obsequiousness. When Kayiv’s people spoke of white-hairs whose blood ran more Eandi than Qirsi, they did so with men like Stavel in mind.

But it was the chancellor who had first revealed to him that Dusaan was advising the emperor to begin his attack on Eibithar early, and that the high chancellor was presenting this as counsel that came from all of Harel’s Qirsi. Even had there been another Qirsi whose help the minister preferred to accept, he would have had to turn to Stavel eventually. And as it happened, there was no one else.

First, though, Kayiv needed to enhance his standing in Harel’s court. And for this, he needed the help of the one man who, only a short time ago, would have seemed an even more unlikely ally than Stavel: Uriad Ganjer, the emperor’s master of arms.

Rumor had it that the arms master was livid at the emperor’s decision to hasten the invasion of Eibithar, and that much of his ire was directed at Dusaan and the rest of the Qirsi, whose counsel he believed had convinced Harel to attack so soon.

As Eandi went, Uriad was more intelligent than most, and though a warrior, he was not given to the blind hatred of all Qirsi that Kayiv had observed in other Eandi men of arms. Still, the minister had never before had occasion to speak with Uriad other than to exchange pleasantries at an imperial banquet or while passing one another in the palace corridors. No doubt the master of arms would view with suspicion any overtures Kayiv made. The minister could only hope that Uriad’s anger at Dusaan and his concern for the success of the invasion would overmaster his distrust.

For several days after resolving at last to speak with the master of arms, Kayiv searched for ways he might contrive to begin such a conversation without seeming too obvious. The truth was, however, their paths rarely crossed, and it occurred to Kayiv that this was hardly a discussion to be started casually, or by chance. At last, on the eighth day of the waning, the minister decided that he had little choice but to approach Uriad directly.

He found the armsmaster early in the morning in the central courtyard of the palace, training the men of Hare’s imperial guard. Most of the soldiers would be sailing for Eibithar in another few days. There was little that Uriad could teach them in the time he had left. Kayiv sensed, however, that the master of arms no longer did this for the men, but rather for himself. Perhaps fearing that the emperor’s decision had upset all his careful planning, Uriad sought to reassure himself that the army wouldn’t fail for lack of preparation. Or perhaps he merely vented his anger at Harel by working his men mercilessly. Whatever his reasons, the master of arms watched the men with a stony expression on his long face, his black eyes narrowed, as if he were watching for the next mistake so that he could yell at the soldiers again. Occasionally he barked out instructions, his voice echoing off the palace walls.

Faced now with the prospect of approaching this imposing figure, Kayiv faltered, nearly retreating back into the palace. But he could imagine Nitara laughing at him, calling him a coward and worse. Taking a breath, he crossed to where Uriad stood, stopping just beside him. The master of arms was nearly a full head taller than Kayiv, and the minister felt like a child standing with him.

“The men look to be in fine form, armsmaster.”

Uriad glanced down at him, his expression unchanged.

“I’ve no doubt that they’ll acquit themselves quite well in the coming war.”

Still the man offered no reply, and Kayiv found himself casting about for something else to say. Too late, he realized that complimenting Uriad on the training of the men had been a poor idea. As far as the armsmaster knew, he was one of the Qirsi who had joined with Dusaan in recommending that the emperor begin his invasion sooner rather than later. No wonder Uriad had greeted him so coldly.

“What a shame that others in the palace aren’t showing such dedication in their preparation for the invasion.”

Uriad cast him another look, then turned fully to face him. “What do you want, Minister?”

Gods, the man was big! Kayiv had to fight an urge to flee. “Merely to speak with you, armsmaster. You may not believe this, but you and I are allies in this fight.”

The man frowned. “What fight? What are you talking about?”

Kayiv winced. He wasn’t handling this well at all. “I know the high chancellor made it seem that all the emperor’s Qirsi were in favor of moving the invasion forward, but that’s not the case. Some of us-a good many, really-feared that by upsetting your plans so, we risked dooming the invasion to failure.”

Uriad’s eyes flicked toward his men, and when next he spoke, his voice had dropped lower. “The plan is still sound. I would have liked more time, but the invasion will succeed.”

“Of course it’s sound, armsmaster. None of us questions that. But if you could have more time, wouldn’t you still want it?”

“We both know that’s not possible.”

“But the high chancellor-”

“The high chancellor merely told the emperor what he wanted to hear. The emperor had long since grown impatient with my preparations.”

“But he never would have changed his mind had the high chancellor not recommended it.”

“What is it you hope to accomplish, Minister? As I say, the decision has been made. You and I both know that the emperor isn’t about to change his mind. The men will soon sail for the waters off Galdasten, perhaps before the end of the waning, and by then the fleet’s battle with Eibithar’s ships will already be under way. There’s no more time.”

“You can’t know that for certain. And even if you’re right, don’t you find it alarming that the high chancellor should wield such enormous influence with the emperor?”

“Not at all. It’s to be expected.”

“But these are dangerous times. Don’t you fear giving such power to the Qirsi? What if a man in the high chancellor’s position didn’t have the best interests of his realm at heart? What if he were abusing his influence, misrepresenting the counsel offered by his fellow Qirsi?”

Uriad’s eyes widened. “Is the high chancellor doing that?”

“It would be cause for concern, wouldn’t it?”

“Answer me, Minister. Is the high chancellor doing that?”

“I’ve already told you he made it seem that all the emperor’s other Qirsi supported rushing the invasion. We didn’t.”

The master of arms frowned. “That’s hardly the same thing. I wouldn’t expect the high chancellor to relate to His Eminence every point of view presented in your discussions. The emperor hasn’t time for such foolishness. It’s proper that he merely inform the emperor of the decisions you reach.”

He didn’t discuss it with us at all, Kayiv wanted to say. But he couldn’t go that far. At least not yet. “We reached no decision,” he said instead. “The high chancellor imposed his will upon us and then presented the recommendation to the emperor as if we had all agreed with him.”

The armsmaster seemed to weigh this for some time, shrugging at last. “I’m not even certain I see anything wrong with that. He leads your people here in the palace, he speaks for you. It seems natural to me that his opinion on certain matters should carry greater weight. I say that even knowing that he and I are working at cross purposes in this instance.”

Kayiv shook his head. “You still don’t understand.”

“Then tell me what’s on your mind and be done with it!”

“I can’t. Don’t you see? The high chancellor is a powerful man-as you say, he leads our people. I. . I’m afraid of him, of what he can do to me.”

Uriad’s eyes narrowed once more. “And what is that?”

“He can have me banished from the court.” He can have me killed.

“And you honestly think he would?”

“If I defy him openly, yes.”

“Well, I have no desire to see you sent from the palace, but I still don’t understand what you want of me. I have no sway with the high chancellor. I respect him, and I believe he respects me. But I wouldn’t presume to tell him how to treat the other Qirsi any more than he would tell me how to train my men.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything of that sort, armsmaster. I merely wish to help you convince the emperor that the invasion has a better chance of success if we follow your original plans. I’d be willing to approach the emperor with you, to let him know that some of his Qirsi feel as you do, that this was the wrong decision.”

A wry smile touched the man’s lips and was gone. “Harel the Fourth does not take kindly to being told that he’s in error. We’d both wind up with our heads on pikes.”

“Not if we made it clear to him that he was the victim of poor counsel. Surely he couldn’t take offense at that.”

Uriad pressed his lips in a tight line, glancing at his men once more. “We still have several ships in the yards at Finkirk. If we wait another turn or two, the ships will be completed and we can add them to the fleet. Our navy would be stronger than it’s ever been.”

“How many ships?”

The armsmaster looked at him again. “Four. Each with three masts and three rows of sweeps. They’ll be the finest warships ever to sail the waters of the Forelands.”

“Four ships,” Kayiv repeated. “Such vessels could mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

“Perhaps.”

“Don’t we owe it to the emperor to tell him as much?”

The armsmaster smiled thinly, though there was no hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “You can be very persuasive, Minister. But I still want to know what game you’re playing.”

“I assure you, armsmaster-”

“Don’t,” Uriad said, shaking his head. “I may not be as skilled in the machinations of the court as you are, but I’ve served here for long enough to learn a thing or two. You want something. It may not be from me directly, but you certainly seem intent on using me to get it. And that’s fine. If you’re sincere in your desire to help the emperor and delay this invasion a short while, then I’m willing to play along, within reason. But I won’t do so blindly.”

Kayiv felt like a child, caught breaking one of his father’s rules. “I am sincere,” he said. “And I will do all in my power to delay the invasion, to return it to the timing you had foreseen. As to the rest. .” He shrugged weakly. “The rest is difficult to explain.”

Uriad merely stared at him. “Try.”

“It’s a Qirsi matter.”

He faced the soldiers once more. “In that case, I’d suggest you enlist the help of your fellow ministers and chancellors and leave me alone.”

“I intend to go to them, armsmaster. You must believe me. But I need the help of someone outside our circle. In essence, I’ll be pitting myself against the high chancellor, and if I give the other ministers and chancellors such a choice, they’ll be afraid to ally themselves with me.” He hesitated, though only briefly. This was the path he had chosen; there could be no turning back now. “But if I can claim you as an ally, the others may be willing to join me.”

“And what would you do with such an alliance, Minister?”

Expose the high chancellor for what he truly is.

“I’d make certain that the counsel offered to our emperor was sound, that if it was said to come from all of his Qirsi, it would come from all of his Qirsi and not just one man. Consider the times in which we live, armsmaster. Can we truly afford to do any less?”

“You raise an interesting point,” Uriad said, with some reluctance.

“I can’t promise you that we’ll change the emperor’s mind about the invasion. But I’ll try, and perhaps I can prevail upon other ministers to join me in the effort.”

“What would you want from me in return?”

“As I said before, I need your support. I need to know that when the time comes for my fellow ministers and me to approach the emperor, you’ll be with us, in body and spirit.”

“You believe I can protect you from the high chancellor.”

Kayiv knew he hadn’t been terribly subtle. Still, he was discomfited by the directness of Uriad’s statement. In truth, if Dusaan was a Weaver, there was no one in the Forelands who could protect him. But under the circumstances, Uriad was the most powerful ally for whom he could hope. And since at the moment he was utterly alone, he was desperate for any friends he could find.

“I’m but a minister in this court, armsmaster. I’ve some influence with the other Qirsi, and I’ll bring it all to bear in this effort. But if I stand alone against the high chancellor I’ll be crushed. With you on my side, my prospects improve significantly. Surely you can see that.”

“Yes, I can,” the master of arms said. He paused briefly, then finally nodded. “Very well, Minister. When the time comes, you’ll have my support. Speak with the other Qirsi, and send word to me when you’re ready to seek an audience with the emperor. I’ll be there.”

It was more than he had expected, more than he had dared hope. “Thank you, armsmaster. I’m most grateful.” He felt that he should bow to the man, or embrace him, so thankful was he. But he merely said “Thank you” a second time and hurried away, intending to return to his chamber so that he might consider how best to proceed now that his conversation with Uriad had gone so well.

Before he had gone far, though, he heard the midmorning bells begin to toll in Curtell City. It was time for all the emperor’s ministers and chancellors to gather in Dusaan’s ministerial chambers. Instantly, he found himself glancing about the courtyard, looking for any other Qirsi who might have seen him speaking with the master of arms. And doing so, he caught a glimpse of white hair as a figure vanished into the tower nearest the high chancellor’s chamber. It was no more than a split second, a glimmer of white in the darkened archway, but for Kayiv, who had committed to memory every facet of her appearance, it was more than enough.

Of course it would be Nitara, and no doubt she would go directly to Dusaan, to tell him what she had seen. Kayiv felt his legs start to tremble.

He’d done nothing wrong, nothing for which the high chancellor could punish him without revealing more about himself than he wished. Certainly it wasn’t all that unusual for one of the emperor’s ministers to speak with Harel’s most important military advisor. Except that Kayiv and Uriad had never before spoken at length, and somehow the high chancellor would know this. Kayiv was certain of it. News of their conversation would start Dusaan thinking. What could the minister possibly have to say to Uriad? If anything, a member of the Weaver’s movement would wish to avoid such an encounter. The risks were too great.

The minister closed his eyes for just a moment, cursing his carelessness. He should have found somewhere less obvious to speak with Uriad, even if it meant going to the man’s private quarters. Dusaan would be watching him now, searching for other signs of odd behavior, and making whatever Kayiv decided to do next that much more difficult.

Unless Nitara didn’t tell the high chancellor. Perhaps she would seek to protect Kayiv. Maybe there remained some residue of the affection they once had shared that would keep her from speaking of this to Dusaan. The minister nearly laughed aloud at the notion.

Reaching the high chancellor’s chambers, he took a moment to compose himself, then entered, taking a seat near the door and as far from Nitara as possible. That much at least Dusaan would expect. As he lowered himself into the chair, she eyed him briefly, her expression revealing little. The high chancellor glanced at him and nodded a greeting, but that was all.

The morning’s discussion was unremarkable. The ministers and chancellors spoke briefly of preparations for the invasion and of the apparent settlement of a conflict between the lords of Grensyn and Muelry that had occupied the emperor and his Qirsi for more than a turn. The time passed slowly. Kayiv spent much of the time watching the high chancellor for any indication that he was angry or suspicious of him, and seeing none, he began to wonder once more if Nitara had kept silent about what she saw in the courtyard. Or had Kayiv been mistaken? What if the figure he saw disappearing into the palace tower wasn’t Nitara at all? What if his fears and his lingering love for the minister had played tricks with his sight?

When at last Dusaan dismissed them, Kayiv rose quickly and hurried to the door, determined to keep as far from both Nitara and the high chancellor as possible. Regardless of what he had seen in the courtyard and what Dusaan might or might not know, he thought it best to take no chances in the coming days.

Before he could even take hold of the door handle, however, the high chancellor called out his name. Kayiv turned to face the man, terror spreading like a cold fog through his body.

“Would you remain for a moment please? There are matters I wish to discuss with you.” Dusaan was grinning, his face looking much the way Kayiv imagined one of Bian’s demons must look just before a kill.

“Of course, High Chancellor,” he answered, marveling at how calm he sounded.

He returned to his seat, conscious of how the others stared at him as they filed past, but keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. Only when Nitara went by did he look up. She was eyeing him with unconcealed curiosity, a slight smile on her lovely face. She said nothing, though, and a moment later she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.

The high chancellor hadn’t moved, and he still wore that same predatory grin.

“It’s been some time since last we spoke,” the man said at last. “Nearly an entire turn.”

“Yes, High Chancellor.”

“I wonder if you still feel comfortable with your decision to join the movement.”

“Of course I do, High Chancellor.”

“You’re certain?”

“I joined because I hate the emperor, I hate what Eandi rule has done to this realm, indeed all the realms of the Forelands. That hasn’t changed.”

“I’m glad to hear that, though I must say, I’m also confused.”

Kayiv’s mouth was so dry he could barely speak. “Confused, High Chancellor?”

“Yes. If all you say is true, I can’t imagine why you would have been speaking with the master of arms early today.”

He couldn’t deny it. Dusaan would know that he was lying and assume the worst.

“I spoke to him of the invasion. I was interested in knowing how preparations were going and thought it best to ask Uriad directly.”

The high chancellor frowned. “Don’t I keep all of the ministers and chancellors informed of such things? Didn’t I speak of the armsmaster’s preparations just now, in this very chamber?”

“Yes, of course, High Chancellor. But I thought that perhaps you weren’t telling the others everything, and so I spoke to the master of arms myself. Forgive me if I was wrong to approach him.”

The apology seemed a good idea. Anything to blunt the high chancellor’s anger.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Minister. You’re welcome to speak with whomever you choose.”

“Thank you, High Chancellor.”

“What did he tell you?”

Kayiv blinked. “High Chancellor?”

“The master of arms. What did he tell you about the invasion?”

Was Dusaan testing him? Was he indeed keeping some information back from the ministers, information that Uriad wouldn’t have hesitated to share with Kayiv?

“Very little, High Chancellor. I mean nothing that you hadn’t told us already. It seems I was wasting my time.”

The high chancellor said nothing.

“He told me that preparations were going well, and that the men would be ready when the emperor ordered them to their ships. That was all.”

“Really? From what I hear, you and Uriad spoke for quite some time.”

A drop of sweat crept down Kayiv’s temple, making his skin itch. The minister brushed it away with his fingers, trying to appear untroubled as he did. “I assure you, we merely spoke of the men and their training. I asked a few perfunctory questions. I thought it best not to raise the matter too abruptly. I wouldn’t want to make him suspicious.”

“No, of course not.”

The minister felt as though he were sinking in swamp mud. Clearly Dusaan didn’t believe any of what Kayiv was telling him. And perhaps that was why he said next what he did. “Actually, we had a very pleasant conversation.”

Dusaan raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes. I find the armsmaster quite intelligent, for an Eandi, and not nearly as cold toward our people as some of his race.”

“I’ve noticed the same thing,” the high chancellor said, though he didn’t look pleased.

He had spoken out of desperation, but Kayiv realized now that he might well have saved his own life. The minister had thought eventually to use the armsmaster as his protector, and here he had done just that, far earlier than he intended.

Emboldened, he went on. “It seems that he was unhappy with the emperor’s decision to begin the invasion this soon, and he blames the Qirsi for advising Harel on the matter. I tried to assure him that we wish only to see his plans succeed, and I think, by the end of our conversation, he had begun to believe me. Given some time, I think that I can win the man’s trust.”

“Oh?”

“Surely it would be a boon to the movement if I could.”

“Yes, I expect so.”

“Shall I continue to speak with him, then?”

Dusaan was glaring at him, but what could the high chancellor say? “Yes, I suppose you should. Keep me informed, of course.”

“Certainly, High Chancellor.” He hesitated. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Minister. You can go.”

Kayiv rose and crossed to the door, his hands trembling, not with fear anymore, but with excitement. He could feel the high chancellor’s eyes boring into his back, but he didn’t look at the man again. Once he was in the corridor, making his way back toward his bedchamber, he allowed himself a smile of his own. He hadn’t truly been courageous-he would never fool himself into thinking that. He’d acted on instinct and out of fear. But he had bested the high chancellor. Not only had he made it clear to Dusaan that he was building a rapport with Uriad, he had managed to get the high chancellor to give him permission to do so.

In a way it made no difference what the high chancellor knew, or thought he knew, about what Uriad and Kayiv said to one another. All that mattered was that the minister and arms-master were linked in Dusaan’s mind. That was enough to ensure Kayiv’s safety. At least for a time.

As he turned the corner onto the corridor where his chamber was located, he saw Nitara waiting outside his door. Kayiv slowed, silently cursing his heart for pounding so at the very sight of her.

“What did he say to you?” she asked, standing there with her back against the wall, one foot resting against the stone as well, her knee bent at a perfect angle.

He should have told her to leave him alone, that what had passed between him and the high chancellor was none of her concern. Qirsar knew that he wanted to. But it seemed he wasn’t capable of speaking to her so. He stepped past her, opening his door and motioning for her to enter. She hesitated, then pushed herself away from the wall and walked into his chamber. Kayiv followed, closing the door behind him.

“He wanted to know why I was speaking with the master of arms,” he said.

“And what did you tell him?”

He had his limits, and his pride. “Why do you care?”

She shrugged, wandering restlessly around the small room. “I don’t. I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Does he have you watching me now? Is that why you went to him in the first place?”

Her cheeks burned red, and for just an instant Kayiv thought that she would deny it. But then she smiled, cold and certain. “I told him because he should know such things. Even if there was nothing more to your conversation with the master of arms than an exchange of pleasantries, the high chancellor needs to be informed.” Her eyes sparkled, the smile deepening. “And clearly there was more than that to what the two of you said. It almost appeared that you were plotting together.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that your loyalty to the cause is so absolute.”

“It is, Kayiv,” she said, earnest now. “You shouldn’t doubt that for a moment. I cared for you once, but I won’t allow that to keep me from serving the movement.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Only if you’re foolish enough to make one necessary. What were you doing with him?”

“Are you asking me that as a servant of the movement, or asa. . a friend?”

“I’m asking as someone who pledged to end Eandi rule in the Forelands, just as you did.” Her gaze slid away. “And also as someone who doesn’t want to see anything. . happen to you.”

For so long, he had wanted to hear her say something like this. But even having tied himself to the master of arms, Kayiv wasn’t immune to fear of the high chancellor. Any satisfaction he took in her last words was negated and more by the terror that settled deep in his gut. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he said, hoping he sounded brave. “I was merely asking Uriad about preparations for the invasion. When you speak with Dusaan, as I’m sure you will, he’ll tell you that I said the same to him. He’ll also tell you that he gave me his permission to continue building a rapport with the armsmaster.”

Nitara frowned. “Dusaan instructed you to speak with him?”

“This time I did it on my own. But I’ll speak with him again soon, on the movement’s behalf.”

“Why did Uriad look so angry with you?”

Sun from the narrow window lit her white hair, making it glow like Panya, the pale moon. Kayiv had to remind himself that this woman was no longer his lover, but rather a servant of the Weaver. In many ways she was the most dangerous person in the emperor’s palace, at least as far as he was concerned.

“He’s angry with all of Harel’s Qirsi,” he answered, looking at anything but her. “He believes we’re responsible for the emperor’s decision to rush the invasion.” Their eyes met for just an instant, before Kayiv looked away again. “I guess Dusaan saw to that, didn’t he?”

“He had his reasons,” she said abruptly, sounding defensive.

Kayiv wished he’d kept the thought to himself; this wasn’t an argument he wanted to have just now. “I’m sure he did. I was just trying to explain why Uriad looked angry.”

“I should go.”

“All right.”

Nitara walked to the door, pulling it open quickly. She paused on the threshold, though she didn’t turn to look at him again. “He’ll be watching you. You know that. And I will be, too. He. . he expects it of me.”

“I understand.”

She nodded, then left him, closing the door behind her.

By now he should have been used to this aching in his chest; he’d felt it every day since their romance ended, and that had been a long time ago. Or so it seemed. Maybe this was just something to which a person couldn’t grow accustomed.

They would be watching, and that would make what he needed to do next even more difficult, though not much. He had known from the start that enlisting Uriad’s aid would be the least of his worries. Now he needed to turn Stavel to his purposes, and with him as many of the other Qirsi as possible.

A voice in his mind screamed for him to stop, to forget this madness and simply follow Dusaan to whatever future his movement managed to create. He owed nothing to the emperor or his people. Even if Dusaan turned out to be a tyrant-and with each day that passed Kayiv grew ever more convinced that he would-he would be a Qirsi tyrant. And wouldn’t that be preferable to what Braedon had now?

As if in answer, Kayiv saw once more in his mind the way Nitara’s face flushed at the mere mention on the high chancellor. He wanted to believe that he acted out of more than jealousy and the pain of losing her. But all of it seemed tied together now in some great, impenetrable knot: his broken love, his hatred of Dusaan, his hunger for revenge, his fear of what the high chancellor might do to the Forelands if given the chance, his desperate need to make Nitara love him again. He couldn’t explain anymore what he was doing, or what end he hoped to achieve. He merely knew that he had to act.

Which meant that he had to approach Stavel.