Authors: Patricia C. Wrede
“Nothing at all.”
“Then there’s no point in confusing you with an explanation. Unless you want to spend the next three or four hours untangling the snakes’ nest of factions they’ve accumulated over the years. I love Rathane,” he added in a happy tone. “If you pick the right person and the right place, you can steal his purse, his sword, and the cloak off his back and stroll off admiring the scenery, because the locals will take two days to decide who’s responsible for catching you.”
“How long ago did this happen? The business with Gorchastrin, I mean.”
“Two months ago, give or take a day.”
“Two months ago?” Eleret frowned. Her mother had still been alive then. “Where was he killed?”
“In his bedchamber in Rathane. And you really should say ‘died,’ I did tell you I wasn’t sure he was murdered.”
Eleret shrugged. So long as Tamm Salven hadn’t been involved in the fellow’s death, Karvonen’s hairsplitting wasn’t important. “If Gorchastrin’s dead, who tried to persuade the City Guard to arrest me this morning?”
“How should I know?”
“You seem to know an awful lot of other things.”
“There is that.” Karvonen looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Put it down to an inexplicable gap in my otherwise vast fund of knowledge.”
“Karvonen…”
“I’m serious. Well, almost. When I found out that a dead Rathani mage was wandering around in Ciaron, I asked a couple of people who should have known who he was, really. Nobody did. Inexplicable.”
Eleret snorted. “How do you know all the rest of these things?”
For the first time, Karvonen looked uncomfortable. “Family connections. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”
“Very well.” Eleret forced her frustration down. After all, family matters were for family. She was surprised that a thief appreciated that; then she remembered that Charis had said the Aurelicos held to some honor code of their own. Evidently, the City Guardswoman had been right. The thought made Eleret feel friendlier toward Karvonen.
Karvonen looked surprised, then grinned. “For the first time all day, I’m glad you’re a Cilhar, Freelady. Most Ciaronese wouldn’t let go of it that easily.”
“Then they have odd ideas about proprieties.”
“Not odd, just different. If I said I was connected with the Imperial palace, a Ciaronese would nod and say no more. You don’t ask awkward questions about one of the Emperor’s spies.”
“No one would believe you were one of the Emperor’s spies.”
“But if they did, they’d stop asking questions.” Karvonen rubbed his nose, looking thoughtful. “And you’d be surprised at the tales people will swallow, if you put them right.”
“Maybe.” Eleret frowned. Karvonen had not acted as if he knew any of this earlier, so he must have gone out looking for it after their encounter that afternoon. Why? And why was he telling it to an almost-stranger? To her surprise, Eleret found that she wanted to believe him, but she had to consider the possibility that it was some sort of trap. She sighed. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was smitten by your beauty and couldn’t think of any other way to see you again?”
“No.”
Karvonen sighed again. “I didn’t think so. Well, if you must know, it’s because you caught me snagging your boyfr—Lord Daner’s bucket this afternoon.”
“So?”
“So if I don’t do something to make up for it, I’m in big trouble. This is all I could think of.”
“If you came to make up for picking Daner’s pocket, what are you doing in my chamber?”
“Because he’s just a wizard. You’re Cilhar.”
Eleret shook her head. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
With an air of resignation, Karvonen said, “Family policy. You don’t mess with wizards, and you
really
don’t fool with Cilhar. The difference is, not messing with wizards is just a good idea. Basic good sense for anybody, but especially for a thief. Fooling with Cilhar…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
“Yes?” Eleret prompted.
“It’s hard to explain. Look, there are certain people that the family never,
ever
crosses. Not under any circumstances, or for any reason. Most of them are people who are connected with the family in one way or another.”
That made sense; an honorable thief wouldn’t rob his kin, even distantly connected kin. Eleret nodded.
“There are one or two people who’ve done favors for someone in the family at one time or another, and a few we don’t bother out of professional courtesy. And there are some families we don’t bother with because of things that go back centuries. The Kyel-Semruds, for instance.” He shook his head admiringly. “I think we wouldn’t bother
them
even if it weren’t for the tradition. They’re the trickiest bunch I’ve ever heard of. Outside of us, I mean.”
Eleret frowned. “I thought the Kyel-Semruds were Kith Alunel noblemen.”
“Those are the ones. You wouldn’t believe some of the things they’ve done.” Karvonen smiled reminiscently at the corner of the ceiling, then glanced at Eleret and cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Cilhar are the only people who are on the list as a group—not one family at a time, but the whole blasted country at once. The ban on stealing from them goes back almost as far as the one on the Kyel-Semruds; they both date from before the Wars of Binding, anyway.
And
there’s an aid-in-distress clause. So you see my difficulty. When Grandfather finds out I bungled a snag on a wizard, he might be willing to pass it off as stupidity. But when he finds out I put the twist on a wizard with a Cilhar bodyguard—”
“You’ve got it backwards again,” Eleret said absently. She found Karvonen’s explanation almost as disturbing as the information he had given her about Gorchastrin. “Daner was supposed to be guarding me.”
“What?” Karvonen’s face went completely blank. “Why would a Cilhar need a bodyguard?”
“Wizards.” Eleret tapped her fingers absently against the hilt of her dagger, thinking of Jonystra. “I don’t suppose—”
A knock at the door interrupted her, and as she broke off, Karvonen stood up in an economical movement. “Beg pardon, Freelady,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, “but as I said earlier, I’d rather not be seen. Though I’m sure the residents are charming people.” Bowing, he stepped back into the shadows, and a moment later Eleret had to squint to see him, even though she knew exactly where he was.
The knock came again. “Eleret?” said Daner’s muffled voice. “Wake up; I want to talk to you.”
SEVENTEEN
E
LERET GLANCED ONCE MORE
at the dark corner where Karvonen stood, all but invisible, then put a hand to the door. “What have you found out?” she asked, swinging it partway open. “Has Mobrellan turned up?”
“Mobrellan?” Daner’s eyebrows flew up in surprise; then he smiled. “Oh, yes, the Luck-seer’s porter. He’s long gone. We think he had help from one of the servants.” He pushed the door wide and stepped past Eleret, then paced over to the window and looked out, his shoulders stiff with tension.
Quietly, Eleret eased away from the door, to a spot from which she could watch both Daner and Karvonen’s shadowy corner without being obvious about it. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to protect Karvonen from Daner or Daner from Karvonen, but she hoped suddenly and profoundly that she would not have to do either. If Karvonen had told her the truth—and, apart from an ingrained distrust of thieves, she had no real reason to think he hadn’t—he had done her a service of considerable proportions. Whatever his motives, she owed it to him to respect his wish to avoid discovery. Her debt did not extend, however, to letting him pitch a knife into Daner’s back. She raised her left hand to the quick-throw position and held it there, hoping Karvonen had enough knowledge of Cilhar customs to recognize the gesture.
Daner hadn’t moved or spoken. “Well, what is it?” Eleret said at last.
“The Luck-seer’s talking.”
“Already? That healer of yours must be very good.”
“Of course she’s good,” Daner said impatiently. “She works for the Vallaniri.” He turned, frowning into the middle distance. “I wish we knew as much about that wretched Luck-seer.”
“Daner, you’re not making any sense. What’s happened?”
“I told you, the Luck-seer’s been talking. Not much, of course, not with injuries like hers, but enough so we could figure out what she was after.”
“Which was?” With an effort of will, she kept herself from looking directly at Karvonen’s corner, but the knowledge of his presence was a continuing distraction.
“You.”
Eleret made an irritated noise. “We already knew
that.
Either stop being mysterious and let out what you know, or go away so I can get some sleep. Your father was right; it’s been a long day.”
“I’m sorry,” Daner said at once, but the smile that accompanied the words looked a little stiff at the corners. “I wasn’t thinking. Of course you’re tired, after all that’s happened.” He moved away from the window as he spoke.
“So tell me what Jonystra said.” Eleret shifted, drawing Daner’s eyes toward her and away from Karvonen’s corner.
As long as Daner was watching her, he was unlikely to notice the thief standing motionless in the shadows.
Not too much,
she cautioned herself. It would be ironic if, after all the fuss she’d made about it, she maneuvered Daner into blocking her throwing lines.
Daner hesitated. “It has to do with a ring,” he said at last.
“Yes, but
what
does it have to do with my ring? If you can’t make sense, I’ll go find your father. I’ll wager I can persuade him to give me a full report.”
“No, don’t,” Daner said quickly, stepping between Eleret and the door. “He can’t tell you anything more. He—we don’t know any more.”
“You got Jonystra to say that she wanted my ring, but you forgot to ask her why?” Eleret did not bother to hide her skepticism, though she could not imagine why Daner would lie.
“You saw how badly she was injured. We had a hard time getting as much information as we did.”
“None of which is new.” Eleret frowned. Daner was behaving very oddly. “Why are you here?”
“Now that we’re
certain
Jonystra was after your ring, we should make sure no one else gets a chance at it before we find out why.”
“What do you mean?” Eleret asked warily.
“There’s a strongbox built into the wall of my father’s study; it’s been spelled against every kind of interference anyone could think of. The ring will be much safer there than here.”
“I’m sure you think so.” Eleret had to struggle to keep her tone neutral, because she was not at all sure. Everyone else seemed to want the raven ring; perhaps Daner, too, had succumbed to its lure. The thought made her feel alone, as if a comrade she’d depended on had deserted her. Why? Daner wasn’t Cilhar. Before that morning, she hadn’t even known he existed.
“Come, don’t be foolish,” Daner said with a touch of impatience. “This is the best way, I promise to the land’s end. Give me the ring.” He held out his hand toward Eleret.
Behind him, Eleret saw the beginning of movement in the shadows. “Daner!” she shouted, and jerked a raven’s-foot free of the strap that held it against the padded shoulder of her vest. Daner whirled, raising his hands in an unfamiliar motion. Eleret’s arm whipped down, and in the moment of release, her wrist flicked infinitesimally to one side. An instant later, as Daner finished his gesture, the raven’s-foot struck his shoulder. Simultaneously, the raven ring stabbed Eleret’s forefinger.
As she pulled another raven’s-foot loose, Eleret’s mind caught up with her body. Something was wrong with Daner s reaction, his timing, his stance—that wasn’t Daner at all!
“Don’t move, you,” she said. “Karvonen? Can you get his dagger?”
The door swung open. “What dagger?” Daner’s voice said from the hall outside. “Eleret— Stars!”
A second Daner stepped through the open door, stopped short, and reached for his knife, his eyes wide with astonishment. The set of his shoulders and the way he held his knife fit Eleret’s memories of the fight in the alley. Eleret smiled slightly, and kept her eyes on the false Daner and her raven’s-foot raised to throw. “Stay where you are, Daner,” she said to the newcomer. “I don’t want to get you mixed up. Karvonen! Hurry it up.”
“Small chance of that,” the false Daner said. He straightened, clutching his left shoulder, and bowed sardonically in Eleret’s direction. “Fare ill, Cilhar girl, until we meet again, and do believe I’ll try my best to make it so.
Ilmora
!”
Between one eyeblink and the next, he vanished. The candle flames bent briefly toward the empty space as Eleret stood frozen, staring. Then, weapon poised, Eleret advanced, while behind her Daner muttered rapidly.
“No good, he’s gone,” Daner said, sheathing his dagger. “Who—Eleret, look out!”
As Daner spoke, Karvonen half stumbled, half fell out of the shadows toward Eleret, his face twisted and his eyes wild. Both hands clutched at his throat; it looked as if he were trying to strangle himself, and more than half succeeding. Eleret slid her unused raven’s-foot back into place and took three quick steps forward. Her hands closed around Karvonen’s wrists and she threw all her strength into a quick push-pull. There was a moment’s resistance; then the opposition ended abruptly. Karvonen fell against her, choked, and began breathing in great gasps.
“It’s the thief!” Daner’s knife was back in his hand. “What in the Emperor’s name is he doing here?”
“He came to talk to me.” Eleret helped Karvonen over to the bed and let him drop to a seat on the edge of it. He was laboring for breath and unable to talk, but he responded with a wave and an exaggerated nod which Eleret interpreted as thanks.
“You can’t be sure of that,” Daner said. “He might have come to rob you. For all we know, he might be in league with that woman downstairs.”
Karvonen frowned and tried to say something, which set off a coughing fit.
“That’s not what he told me,” Eleret said, shaking her head at Karvonen.
“
Told
you?”
“He was here when I came up. We talked for a while before you—I mean, he—I mean, that other Daner came in.”