The White Gryphon

anyone who helps to break it and anyone who does not aid the bonded ones. If he who tried to interfere in the bonding is a ruler, the curses would fall even upon the people as a whole. You have done a good thing, Amberdrake, by recognizing this bond and telling us of it. You have not only saved the Emperor’s honor, you have prevented the curses of all of our gods and yours as well from falling upon this land.”

“You were well within your rights to withhold this knowledge from me,” Shalaman said miserably, shaken to his bones. “If I had not the opportunity to obtain your forgiveness, it is possible that the curses would still have come, and you would have had your revenge upon me threefold. It would only have been justice—your withholding of information in exchange for my omission.”

The Emperor shuddered, his lips pale with strain. “There is nothing I can give you in my entire Empire that can compensate you—”

This was too much. Amberdrake cast a glance of entreaty at the Truthsayer for help, since nothing he had said seemed to penetrate the Emperor’s reaction. Leyuet placed a hand upon Shalaman’s, keeping him from saying anything more. “It is enough. It did not happen. Amberdrake and Winterhart understand and forgive. They both know—well, enough.”

‘That is the truth,” Amberdrake said hastily. “Remember, we were all caught in a web of deception. The blame should rightly fall on the spider who spun it; let the curses fall upon him.”

That was evidently exactly the right thing to say; the Emperor closed his eyes and nodded, relaxing a little.

But Leyuet was not finished. “And you know, my Emperor, that even if Amberdrake were to perish in the next instant, Winterhart would still not be for you, nor for any other man. You may wish to consult Palisar on the matter, but I would say this proves that the gods regard those of White Gryphon as they would the Haighlei, in matters of the soul and love.”

That last was said with a certain stern relish that made Amberdrake wonder if the pointed little reminder were not Leyuet’s tiny act of revenge for his own mental and emotional strain over this situation. Poor Leyuet. He walked a thread above a chasm, and he survived. I should not be surprised if he garnered more white hairs from this.

Shalaman nodded weakly. “I know. And I swear that I will think of her from this moment as I would my own sister, my own mother, my own daughter—and with no other thoughts in my heart.” He shook himself a little, then looked up at Amberdrake. “Now, you will assert your innocence in this matter, and Leyuet will verify it, and I will make this public if there is no other way to prove that you are blameless. Will that suit your plan to trap this plot- spinning spider?”

“It does. But do not reveal my innocence unless there is no other way to save my life,” Amberdrake reminded him. “We must make our enemy think that he has us trapped, all of us. He will never make any mistakes unless he becomes overconfident.”

We have to think of other things that will make it look as if I am still the chief suspect. . . .

Leyuet assumed his Truthsaying “trance” again, and Amberdrake carefully stated his innocence in all the murders. There was no point in doing this if Shalaman would still be wondering if Amberdrake had anything to do with the other three deaths. “Nor would I harm any other member of your court,” he added, “except to bring this killer to justice.”

There. I think that covers everything. Shalaman hardly looked at Leyuet, who confirmed everything Amberdrake said in a dreamy, detached voice. Odd; he looked so strained before, but now he actually seems to be experiencing something pleasant! I wonder why?

“Now, for Makke—” Amberdrake brought the trembling woman to sit in front of Leyuet. She seemed to be on the verge of tears, but bravely held them back, looking only at Amberdrake. She seemed to take comfort and heart from his presence, and he put a steadying hand on hers as he knelt beside her chair, out of Leyuet’s way.

“Makke, you are the servant and cleaning woman for myself, Winterhart, Zhaneel, and Skandranon, are you not?” he asked in a gentle voice.

She nodded mutely, and Leyuet echoed the gesture. “One of your tasks is to see that our clothing is taken to the laundresses and returned, is that not so?” he continued; she nodded, and Leyuet confirmed the truth of the statement.

“Now—today, this morning, when you fetched the clean clothing, some of it was missing, correct? Whose was it?”

Makke’s voice trembled with suppressed tears. “Yours, great lord.”

“And that was before the afternoon recess, when all the Court takes a rest, was it not?”

“Yes, great lord,” she replied, a single tear seeping out of the corner of her eye and escaping into the wrinkles of her cheeks.

“When you took it away yesterday, did it ever leave your hands from the moment you received it to the moment you delivered it to the laundresses?” he asked. She shook her head mutely.