Casket of Souls (23 page)

Seregil committed the short message to memory, then examined the remaining documents, which proved to be the most interesting of all. There were three dirty, ragged scraps of parchment with lettering on them that to an untrained eye would appear to be mere gibberish. Seregil, however, recognized the writing at once as some sort of cipher. The messages were too long and complex to chance copying all of them, and it would be a bit too obvious to steal them, especially since the night watchman had caught him wandering the corridors. Laying the three of them out side by side on the floor in front of him, he studied them in the glow of the lightstone, trying one system after another to get them to make sense. It took only a few minutes to recognize it as nothing more than an offset code. With his host’s pen and ink, he copied the shortest, then interpreted the other two and wrote them down. He frowned down at the revealed messages, then tucked them inside his shirt and hurried back up to his room.

Alec was fast asleep on his side, snoring softly the way he did when he’d had too much to drink. Rather than chance disturbing him, Seregil settled in an armchair and took out the copies he’d made, puzzling over them for some time.

Alec woke the next morning with a throbbing head and queasy stomach, but managed a humble apology to their hosts. He suffered their well-meant reassurances and managed not to throw up in the carriage on the way home.

“Next time,
you
get drunk!” he groaned as the carriage jounced over a rough patch of paving. “You never feel this ill afterward.”

“I’m sorry, talí, but your sacrifice was not in vain,” Seregil said. “I found a report on us, and these.” He showed Alec the letters he’d copied. “Thero will certainly want to see these.”

Alec cradled his head in his hands. “Then you can damn well go on your own!”

“Y
OU’VE
certainly kept yourself busy,” Thero said approvingly as Seregil followed him into the workroom. “Tea?”

Seregil accepted a cup and pulled out the copied documents. “I found another copy of a letter from Elani to the queen, a report on Alec and me that mentions you as one of our friends, a letter from Malthus to Laneus, and these.” Seregil handed him the copy of the enciphered document first. “I found three written in this code. I didn’t have time to copy them all, but I did this one as an example.”

Thero frowned as he scanned it. “I don’t know this system. Can you read it?”

“Yes. It’s just an offset encryption. Let me show you.”

He went to Thero’s desk across the room and took out a sheet of scraped parchment and a quill.

The wizard joined him, looking over his shoulder. The first line on the page read
SORITO ALA TIRLYK SMIEXT YWBIMTUH YHSAWWEKRI
. The second was longer:
BIUB UI KJNA ERTOARXMEN BMOPIU YNERSBQUIUS ESPYTEBV CWATP OSMRYIUP TRADFTVIH OUY
.

“It’s not a hard code, but whoever wrote this knew a trick or two. The beginning of it is pure gibberish, designed to throw off anyone trying to make it out.” He struck out the first two groupings of letters of the first line, except for the last one in the second grouping: A. “Taking every second letter from there, you get AILK.”

“Klia, backward.”

“Exactly. But from here, taking every second letter, you
get them in proper order left to right: METWITHHAWKI.” He drew a series of slashes between the letters, dividing them into MET WITH HAWKI.

“Hawki?” asked Thero.

“It’s probably meant to be ‘hawk.’ And we don’t know who that is. Perhaps someone from the Red Hawk or White Hawk regiments?”

“But that cipher doesn’t work on the next line,” Thero pointed out.

“No, because you start with the third grouping and read every third letter. It’s a common system, although whoever wrote this may not have known that. An amateur intriguer, probably. So using that …” Seregil slashed through the letters of the second line, leaving: ATREMINSUSPECTSYMPATHY. “ ‘At Remin suspect sympathy.’ The second word nearly threw me off, but Remin is a small town on the Folcwine, probably the site of a battle.”

The wizard shook his head. “The first part sounds like something that could be common knowledge. But the ‘sympathy’ suggests some sort of collusion.”

“I think you may be right. Here are the two I translated.”

The first read:
ailk recalled to queens camp given more riders appears in favor rumor she is to be made general wolves with her
. The second read:
no general ailk shows no ill will openly but ire among ranks hawk seen three times spent several hours alone in tent unable to get close wolves too loyal forgive slow progress difficult
.

“This ‘hawk’ again,” Thero noted. “And Klia’s name spelled backward. But still with no clue as to who the hawk is, or the wolves.”

“ ‘Wolves’?” said Seregil, surprised the wizard hadn’t twigged. “
Urghazi
is Plenimaran for ‘ghost wolves.’ It’s common knowledge, especially in the cavalry.”

“The message said that the wolves are too loyal. Too loyal to do what? Involve in a coup to convince her to mutiny? Or too loyal to turn against her?”

“Either one could be true, believe me. They’re her personal guard.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Seregil. What else did you make of them?”

“All three were written in the same hand, so one spy,” Seregil replied. “And they were all written on grubby scraps of parchment with rough surfaces and torn edges. Cheap scrap. What does that suggest to you?”

“That’s what the military uses. Even Klia.”

Seregil nodded. “So there may be a spy in the regiment. And I think I know who it might be.”

“Who?”

“Reltheus’s son Danos also serves under Klia.”

“He serves in Klia’s squadron?”

“You didn’t know?”

“He didn’t at the time of the hunt last winter. Perhaps Elani had something to do with it, since she was so taken with him.”

“More likely the father.”

“But it makes sense. The father would trust his own son above anyone else. I do wish he’d been a bit more forthright in his communications, though this is quite a help all the same. But why spy on her at all?”

“Perhaps it’s not only Klia they’re worried about. Perhaps there’s a rival cabal who favor Klia for the throne. I hate to say it, but the letter from Malthus, and the fact that Reltheus has it, suggest that he may be part of one.”

Thero frowned down at the messages. “Two warring cabals. That doesn’t bode well.”

“Not with the unrest already brewing in the city. I can’t help thinking of that list Alec found, the one with us and a number of our acquaintances, including Malthus, on it. I think it’s safe to say that Reltheus’s cabal has taken an interest in us, though I have no idea why. But we’re going to need a lot more than we have here to prove anything one way or the other.”

Thero turned back to the messages regarding Klia. “Even by the royal courier service, it takes at least a week by land to get a message back to Rhíminee, and nearly that long by sea,” he mused. “These messages could be old news by the
time they get here. And by the time any kind of answer was sent, things could have changed completely.”

“I’m afraid this is as far as I can take you for now,” Seregil told him, “unless we find more of these.”

“This is frustrating. Without names, interpretation is impossible. And he has letters from Elani, as well. What is he doing with those? They don’t contain anything particularly sensitive. Do you think it’s connected with the cabals?”

“If Malthus had them, then I’d be more inclined to think so, but with it being Reltheus? He’s very anxious for Danos to marry Elani. Could be he’s looking for signs of favor, or mention of rival suitors.”

“I’d like to know who in Elani’s household is doing the copying.”

“I’m working on that.”

“If you’re right, then Reltheus is taking a terrible risk. If word of this ever got out, he’d be ruined at court, if not worse!” Thero paused, drawn to the coded messages again. “Why would anyone think that Klia would betray her sister and niece in the first place?”

“Because someone other than Klia is thinking of doing it? Reltheus clearly knows something we don’t.”

“Klia simply wouldn’t involve herself in something like that!”

Seregil clapped Thero on the shoulder. “I don’t believe it, either. But there could be a faction building that plans to put her on the throne, even without her knowledge of what they are planning.”

Thero ran a hand back through his black curls. “You must get me more than this. There’s nothing that proves that Danos is the one, other than supposition.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we communicated directly with Klia? I’m guessing you can do that.”

Thero nodded. “I will, after you and I are done.”

“I see.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

Thero scowled. “Like you know something.”

Seregil held up his hands, grinning. “I don’t know a thing, and I’m not asking. I’ll leave you to it.”

When Seregil was gone, the wizard went to his bedchamber, shut the door, and retrieved the marble box containing Klia’s handkerchief from the wardrobe. Opening it, he held it to his nose for a moment, imagining that the scent of her perfume still lingered there. Her fingers had brushed his when she gave it to him, one of a hundred such innocent touches that heated his body—

Stop it!
he told himself sternly. A princess and a wizard? It was impossible, but that didn’t cool his passion, just made him ache to the center of his being. Seeing her wounded so recently had only made it worse.

Pressing the precious handkerchief between his palms, he spoke the spell softly and waited for the vision to take shape. His unruly heart was racing again at the thought of actually seeing her.

The vision came almost instantly. Klia was lying on a cot again, grimacing as a healer bandaged a wound on her leg. Her breeches were off, leaving her in just her linen, and he felt a rush of heat through his body at the sight of those smooth, slender legs.

He waited while Myrhini covered her with a blanket. The tall, dark-haired woman’s face was solemn as she looked down at the princess and asked, “How is it?”

Klia flexed her leg under the blanket and gave her friend a wincing grin. “I’ll be able to ride tomorrow.”

“You heard what the healer said.”

Klia snorted as she folded her arms behind her head. “I’ll be fine.”

Choosing his moment, Thero opened a small window spell a few feet from the two women and whispered, “Your Highness.”

Myrhini’s hand flew to her sword hilt as she looked around, instantly alert to possible danger.

“It’s all right. It’s just Thero coming to call again,” Klia said with a chuckle as she found Thero’s face floating in midair. “Hello, my friend. Do you have some news for me?”

“May we speak alone?”

“Since when do I not speak openly before Myrhini?”

“It’s all right, Klia,” Myrhini said, stepping out of Thero’s view.

Klia waited a moment, watching her go, then turned back to the wizard. “Well?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

How to couch it?
thought Thero. “Seregil and Alec have been working for me. I believe they’ve uncovered a spy in your regiment.”

Her bright blue eyes widened. “A spy? Who?”

“Captain Danos.”

“That can’t be right!”

“We have some evidence, Klia, but not enough, and it’s not completely clear what he’s up to. It appears that he’s been sending his father coded messages about your movements.”

Klia’s expression darkened. “Impossible! Why would he be doing that?”

Thero paused, not relishing what he had to say next. “We think that his father, Duke Reltheus, believes you might be plotting to supplant Elani for the throne.”

The incredulous look she gave him eased his heart considerably. “On what grounds?”

“Again, we’re not quite sure, except that there may be a cabal unknown to you who want you on the throne. But Reltheus definitely means to marry Danos to the princess royal.”

“Thero, are you asking if I am plotting against Elani and the queen?”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Thank you for that. But if it needs to be said, I’m not. I have no reason to.”

“I know. But Duke Reltheus seems to think there is a cabal working on your behalf. He could be right about that. Alec found a list of names, including his, mine, Seregil’s, and Duke Malthus’s. And yours.”

“If word of this got to Phoria—”

“I understand. We’re working as quickly as we can to learn more. We haven’t even spoken to your brother yet. In one of Danos’s coded letters, he mentions someone called ‘the
hawk,’ someone close to you. Does that mean anything to you?”

“That’s what the riders call General Moraus.”

“Is it unusual for him to visit you?”

“Not at all. He’s my commanding officer, and he’s known me all my life. He’s been concerned about my losses.”

“He is not alone. There are those in Rh
í
minee who think Phoria is trying to get you killed.”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re stretched thin this year. Every officer is doing all they can with what they have. You know the Queen’s Horse has always been in the forefront.”