Casket of Souls (24 page)

“In one of the messages Seregil found, it sounds as if the queen was considering making you general of the regiment, then changed her mind?”

“There was some concern about General Moraus’s health—a summer fever—but he recovered. I have no hard feelings over it, Thero.”

Thero feared that Klia might be too trusting, but he kept that to himself for now. “The messages also mentioned ‘wolves.’ Seregil thinks that may refer to Urghazi Turma. They’re referred to as being too loyal.”

“To whom? The queen or me?”

“We don’t know for certain, but I assume to you.”

“Do you think Elani is in any danger?”

“There’s no evidence of that yet, but Seregil and Alec have recently been taken into the royal circle, thanks, ironically, to Reltheus himself.”

“She must be protected at all costs! You have to go to Korathan with this.”

“We need to gather more evidence before we risk implicating anyone. Seregil and Alec won’t be much good to me in the Tower, or me to you.”

“I don’t like it, Thero. The longer I keep this from Phoria and Korathan, the worse it looks for me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But do you really want a repeat of what happened with your mother, with the falsely accused traitors being executed? We could have lost Seregil then.”

“Very well. But I want regular reports!”

“Of course. It could be that Reltheus is merely being
cautious, considering you potential competition for the throne. My fear is that you may be in danger, one way or another. Do you have spies of your own?”

“Yes, but they’ve never been called to spy on their own comrades.”

“I’m afraid it’s necessary now.”

“But what am I supposed to do about Danos? He’s a damn good captain, and I’ve never had any reason to doubt his loyalty to me or the regiment. Sakor’s Flame, Thero, it was his people who were killed the night the assassins came after me.”

A ruse to throw off suspicion?
“Watch him. And you and your spies will need the key to the code.”

Klia reached under the bed for a wax tablet and a stylus and copied down the specifics of the offset code. When they were done, she set the tablet aside and ran a hand over her chestnut widow’s peak. “Once again, I wish you were here, my friend.”

“So do I,” Thero replied, heart beating a little faster at her words. “I miss our peaceful time in Aurënen.”

“I do, too, very much. But this war can’t last forever. If nothing else, I’ll be back in a few months. You still owe me a round of cards, you know.”

Thero smiled. “Of course. I look forward to it.” Then he paused. “How is the war progressing?”

“Well, I think. We crossed the Folcwine two weeks ago and are in southern Mycena. Resistance is hardening against us, but Phoria believes we can break through.”

“Sakor’s luck to you all. Be careful. I can’t bear finding you wounded every time I look in on you.”

She grinned. “I’ll try, but no promises. Good night, my dear friend.”

Thero closed the spell and sat for a moment, trying to hold her image in his mind a little longer, and the sound of her voice as she called him “dear friend.”

It was all he dared hope for, but when he slept that night, his dreams were filled—as they so often were—with that sweet voice and lovely visage, and, tonight, the sight of a bandage encircling a slender bare leg.

W
HEN
Thero was gone, Klia lay there for a moment, picturing his face and, as always, missing the wizard more for having had such a fleeting glimpse of him. During those precious, peaceful months together in Aurënen, she’d come to first like Thero, then something more began to develop—or so she thought. One moment they’d be laughing together, the next he’d be his old stiff and formal self again. But tonight, just before he’d broken off the spell, she was sure she’d seen him color when she called him “friend.”

She had no time for such thoughts now. Pulling the blanket around her, she limped to the tent door, where two of Beka’s men were on guard duty. “Rider Yonus, send a runner for your captain. Where’s the major?”

“Here.” Myrhini stepped from the shadows beyond the watch fire.

“Come in, and close the flap.” Klia lowered herself into one of the chairs by the map table with her wounded leg stretched out in front of her. “We have a problem.”

It was not unusual for Beka to be called to Klia’s tent. But Klia’s and Myrhini’s deadly serious expressions as she came in made her halt just inside the tent flap. “Commander?”

“Come, sit with us,” Klia said, gesturing her to a stool very close to her own. She and the major appeared to be trying to keep anyone else from hearing. Beka soon understood why.

“You’ve never given me reason to doubt your honor, Beka,” Klia began. “Apart from Myrhini, I trust you the most
of any of my officers, so I’m about to put my life in your hands.”

Beka went down on one knee and pressed her fist to her chest. “Your Highness, command me.”

“No need for that. Sit, please. I’ve had some disturbing news. There may be a cabal who want to put me on the throne in my niece’s place. There’s another that may be working against me. Beka, would you say you’re friends with Captain Danos?”

Beka felt a flicker of apprehension. “Yes, Commander, I am. I saved his life in the spring and he’s done the same for me. He’s a good man, and a friend.”

“That makes this even harder. I’ve had word from Thero that Danos may be sending news of my movements to his father in code. Do you know of any reason he would be doing that?”

“No,” Beka replied, shocked.

“Thero is working on this from Rh
í
minee, with the usual help. I need you to be my eyes and ears here, Beka.”

“Of course, Commander,” said Beka at once, though she disliked the idea of spying on her own people. She liked what Klia said next even less.

“The information Thero has is still unclear, but there was mention, we think, of your Urghazi Turma.”

“You want me to spy on
them
?”

“Both you and they are known to be completely loyal to me. The conspirators supporting me might approach you, thinking that supersedes your loyalty to the queen.”

Beka thought of the conversation she’d had with Sergeant Werneus the night after the battle at the ford. “We’re good Skalans, Commander, and Phoria is our queen.”

“And when Elani takes the throne?”

“As I said,” Beka replied solemnly. “We are loyal to the queen, whoever wears the crown.”

“As am I.” Klia smiled sadly. “I know what I’m asking of you. But there’s no one else I can trust with this. It could mean my life if Phoria finds out and thinks I’m part of it.”

“Can’t you just go to the queen and tell her, Klia?” asked Myrhini.

“My sister is not a trusting woman. She recalled me because she needed me in the field, and Korathan spoke for me. But it was on the condition that I recognize Elani as the princess royal, and give up any claim to the throne.”

“It still doesn’t seem fair,” Beka said without thinking.

“Understand this, Beka, and don’t ever forget it,” Klia told her sternly. “I don’t
want
to be queen. Growing up, I had two sisters ahead of me in line for the succession. I never expected to be queen. All I want is to do my duty to Skala. When Elani takes the throne, I will serve her, and gladly. But I want to know who is behind this plot, and how serious it is before I send anyone to the Tower.”

Beka pressed her fist to her heart again. “I won’t fail you, Commander.”

“I know. It’s why I asked you. Now that you know what is going on, I want you both to keep this to yourselves,” Klia warned. “Except for Nyal, Beka. He works with all the troops, coming and going without any questions asked. I know I can trust him as I trust you.”

“I’d stake my honor on it, Commander.”

“Good. I want you to court Danos, so to speak, see if you can be taken into his confidence. And most especially, I want you to intercept any secret messages he tries to send. They’re written in code.”

She handed Beka a wax tablet with the key written down. Beka read it over several times. It was fairly straightforward, so long as you could count.

“I think that’s about it,” said Klia when Beka handed it back.

Beka took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t remain silent in the face of all Klia had just told her. “There’s something I should tell you. I should have brought this to you sooner, but I thought—” She shook her head. “The night after you defeated the Plenimarans at the Silver River ford, I overheard some of Anri’s men talking. From what I could make out, they’d back you for the throne, and seemed to think I would, too.”

Klia sighed, running a hand over her tangled hair. “Watch her, too, then.”

“From what I gathered, she didn’t know about any plot. The men were unsure of her.”

“That could have changed by now,” Myrhini said, frowning. “You should have brought this to Klia sooner.”

Beka pressed her fist to her heart. “I’m sorry. I thought it was just the usual grumbling. I took them to task for it at the time.”

“Who was it you heard all this from?”

Beka knew better than to hesitate in speaking out against the sergeant, regardless of what she owed him; she owed Klia far more. “It was one of Anri’s sergeants, a man named Werneus.”

“Have one of your trusted riders bring him to me, but don’t tell Werneus where he’s being taken. And you stay with your squadron. I don’t want you associated with this, or Nyal.”

“Werneus is likely to guess why, since it was me who spoke to him about it.”

“That can’t be helped. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, Commander.” With a final salute, Beka took her leave.

Myrhini had known Klia a long time and could tell when her friend was angry, even with the princess doing her best to hide it.

“It could just be an overabundance of loyalty, Klia.”

“One that could get me executed. And Danos?” Her anger was clearly tinged with hurt.

“I’ve never had cause to doubt him. Maybe you should bring this to the queen yourself.”

“I will, when I have more proof. Seregil and Alec are working on it in Rh
í
minee, thank the Four. And Thero, of course.”

“Of course.” Grinning, Myrhini clasped her friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake. “Then you have the best of the best working in your favor.”

“I just hope they work quickly.”

Beka found her husband at a watch fire with some of Danos’s riders.

“Nyal, a word?” she said, stepping into the firelight.

This elicited, as always, a fair amount of ribbing and whistling, but they were used to it and took it with good humor.

The Aurënfaie waved and grinned over his shoulder, but waited until they were away from the light to slip an arm around her waist. “Talía,” he whispered in his own language, “I looked for you but couldn’t find you. Someone said you’d been called to the commander’s tent.”

“Yes. We need to talk.” She kissed him as they walked across the trampled battlefield toward a stand of trees near the edge of the encampment. Beka skirted it, checking for nearby pickets, then led him into the trees and told him all that had passed between her and Klia.

“I’ve heard muttering, but nothing treasonous,” Nyal told her.

“Be especially careful around Danos and his troop,” she warned. “Bring anything the slightest bit suspicious to Klia at once.”

“I’m always careful, talía.” Nyal took her in his arms and kissed her again. He was tall for a ’faie, and her head was level with his shoulder. He smelled of leather and horses, as she did herself.

Beka ran her fingers through his long hair, chuckling at the tangles there. He did the same with her thick red hair, and the feeling of those long fingers caressing her scalp sent a shiver of need through her. It had been weeks since they’d found the time to be alone together. Time was short and life was uncertain. She didn’t want to waste such a rare moment, and neither did he. She wore a pessary as a matter of course, as all the female soldiers did—not only so they could indulge in pleasure without getting a round belly, but in case of rape in the field. The little hank of wool soaked in oil worked well. In the shadow of the trees, moving only as much clothing as was absolutely necessary, they made hurried, silent love, groaning into each other’s mouths as they came together.

Sergeant Werneus looked suitably uneasy as he ducked under Klia’s tent flap and went down on one knee before her. “You sent for me, Commander?”

Myrhini stepped behind him, guarding the door.

“Yes,” said Klia. “At attention, rider.”

Werneus, a grizzled warrior at least two decades her senior, stood stiffly, hands behind his back, eyes fixed on a spot just over her shoulder.

“I’ve heard some disturbing rumors, Sergeant. Rumors involving me.”

Werneus said nothing, but she caught a flash of alarm in his eyes.

“Speak, Sergeant!” she ordered.

“It’s just soldiers’ talk, Commander.”

“About what?”

A muscle flexed in the man’s stubbled jaw. “Just talk, Commander, about what it might be like if you was in charge of the regiment, that’s all.”