have to deliver it.'
'Well, yes, but-'
'I have seen many things in my life. I have grown to be highly suspicious of coincidences. I believe that you called that breeze. You were not thinking, 'if only a gust of wind, blowing at a certain speed and strength, would come right here and be of sufficient force to snatch away this speech.' You merely wanted to find an excuse to deliver your own message. And you made that excuse.'
The hair along Castyll's forearms began to prickle. 'Damir, you are dangling my dearest hope in front of my eyes. I hope you're not toying with me.'
'I would not do such a thing.'
'No,' Castyll said slowly. 'No, you wouldn't. I… I hardly dared to hope any more.' 'Dare, Your Majesty. Dare.'
The examiner sighed, removed his fingers from the young woman's temples, and told his master what he knew he did not wish to hear.
'She's telling the truth, milord. When she woke up, he was gone. She really does have no idea where he might be.'
Bhakir smothered his anger. Cursed little royal brat. He should have killed the young pup when he had the chance. Accidents happened, after all.
The two little Tenders, huddled close to one another, watched with round eyes. They, too, had been subjected to an examination; they, too, had been exonerated. Now they stared, silent, at their mistress and the big, black-bearded man who had come to see her.
'You must be a very deep sleeper, Blesser,' Bhakir said in a voice that sounded perfectly sincere to those who did not know him well. 'Two of my guardsmen lie dead in your garden. Yet you did not waken.'
The skinny little Blesser shrank back still further. 'I did not know. I shall pray for them and their families. Is Castyll-why would he do such a thing?' She seemed genuinely confused, and Bhakir reluctantly dismissed the idea that she was a collaborator. Women, other than Healers, had no magic. There was no way Adara could have 'lied' to his mind-reader.
'I fear that our good king may have been kidnapped,' he said gravely. Adara's hands flew to her mouth in horror. 'That was why I had guards stationed about your Holy House-though I know that it is against custom to do so. Byrn…' He sighed and shook his dark head helplessly. 'They pose as our allies, but my dear young Blesser, I must tell you that they are no friends to Mhar. I have long feared that such a catastrophe would occur. But to think that even Byrnians would so blaspheme as to kidnap a king from a Holy House!'
'If this is indeed what happened,' murmured Adara, 'then their souls are lost in truth. Your Grace, please-if you have word of Castyll, let me know. I would see him safe.'
'As would I, dear lady.' He bowed as low as the huge bulk about his midsection would permit. 'My men and I shall leave you in peace now. Thank you for cooperating with us.'
He led the way out into the bright, midmorning sunshine. With an effort, he heaved himself into his saddle, his mind working furiously. He slowly motioned for the two guards to ride at his side and the mind-reader to bring up the rear, and the four horses clopped down the cobblestone way toward the palace.
To the guard on his left, Bhakir said softly, 'Keep an eye on the girl. Follow me until we are well out of sight, then slip off the horse and double back.'
'Certainly, milord, but may I ask your suspicions? The girl knows nothing.'
'No, but Castyll may try to reach her — turn her to his cause. If he returns, I want someone there to capture him. It's doubtful, but right now I will not take any risk. Keep the Blesser in your sight at all times, understood?'
'Aye, sir.'
To the guard on his right, Bhakir said, 'Ride up ahead. I want every road sealed off, every ship that docks at the Ilantha port inspected.'
'Quietly, sir, or publicly?'
'Very publicly. Put the word out that he's been kidnapped by Byrnians. Put a reward out for any sightings. If he shows his head anywhere, I want someone to report it. And if he disappears without a trace, well, we can turn that to our advantage as well. What bothers me most about this is, he had help.' His eyes narrowed, thoughtful. 'What do our spies say about Damir Larath? I was suspicious of his coming so close to our borders in the first place.'
'He is still in Braedon, milord. He was apparently ill, but has recovered.'
'You're certain?'
'He was spotted just a day ago at a public ceremony, milord.'
Bhakir swore. 'I would have been willing to wager he was involved directly in this — it's just the sort of thing I'd expect from him. Too clean. But I suppose not. Indirectly, though…' His voice trailed off. Castyll might already be well on his way to Byrn. Time, then, to take the hunt to Braedon, and watch for him there. And, mused the counselor to himself, if the young king of Mhar were indeed in Braedon, then in a very few days, Bhakir's worries would be over.
'My lord Bhakir!' The voice was youthful, strong, the voice of one used to being obeyed. Bhakir stiffened, then turned slowly in the saddle to see who had hailed him.
Striding up boldly to him and his guards was the Blesser of Vengeance. 'We have business, you and I.' The face turned up to Bhakir was handsome, with thick black brows and a strong mouth. Anger snapped in the dark eyes.
Bhakir looked around uneasily. Several people had paused to look at the unusual sight. Mentally, Bhakir cursed the man a thousand times, then smiled ingratiatingly. 'Greetings, Blesser. And what business might that be?'
The Blesser had reached him now. His arms were folded and he stared at the mounted counselor. 'The business of blasphemy.'
Bhakir felt a chill. 'I'm sure I don't know what you mean.'
'My god has revealed to me that you are taking his name in vain. That you are doing something of which he does not approve. You may tread men beneath your heel, my lord, but you defy a god at your dreadful peril. Especially when that god is the mighty and implacable Vengeance.'
Bhakir looked concerned. 'If I have offended, then I ask forgiveness and to be shown what it is that I have done wrong. Blesser, will you come to Seacliff tonight and pray with me?'
The man's tense face relaxed somewhat. 'Well,' he said, slightly mollified, 'I am bound by my oaths to help those who ask for it. Very well. I will be there at sunset. But don't think that false piety will spare the Sword of Vengeance,' he added.
'Of course not,' replied Bhakir. 'Truly, I would atone for whatever sins I may have committed. May I expect you at sunset?'
The Blesser's eyes searched Bhakir's face, then he nodded. Bhakir inclined his head, then gently squeezed his mount, continuing the ride. He said nothing to his guards, and after a moment, the one on the right rode ahead while the one on his left slowed, then circled back, per their lord's instructions. The mind-reader kicked his mount and came to ride alongside Bhakir. The counselor remained silent. There was no way of knowing what the Blesser really knew. Not yet.
But come sunset, Bhakir would have Garith use his 'methods of persuasion' on the man. And then, when they had learned all there was to learn, Bhakir would order the Blesser killed. He'd gone too far to let one loose- tongued, arrogant priest ruin it all.
Alone with her young Tenders, the Blesser of Love brushed out her long hair thoughtfully. Things were very unsettled. Perhaps she needed some advice from another.
'I think I will go visit Love's Blesser in Jarmair,' she said to her Tenders. 'Can you ready my things for the trip?'
Deveren drummed his fingers on the table. He had no interest in the fine food before him, but he absently watched Kyle eat heartily.
The resemblance truly was uncanny. With the wig, putty nose and other makeup tricks, Kyle was almost a mirror image of Damir. He had most of the gestures down and had captured Damir's precise manner of speaking. If Deveren closed his eyes slightly, it could indeed almost be Damir across from him at the table. Kyle had even
