Spy's Honor

shroud mages. Only him!”

“I came here to help my people in any way I could,” said Janto. “That woman is one of my people.”

“You have to put the most important things first,” said Iolo. “It’s awful what Micah does to those women, but if we lose you, and Mosar loses the war, how many more of them are going to be raped or killed by Kjallan soldiers?”

Sirali folded her arms. “I think if a prince would let his people get hurt right in front of him, he deserves to lose his kingdom.”

“What about everyone else in that kingdom?” snarled Iolo. “What do they deserve?”

“Right, and if it were men being hurt instead of women—,” began Sirali.

“Quiet, both of you,” said Janto. “What’s done is done.” He only hoped it didn’t turn out as disastrously as Silverside. “Sirali, you say he does this frequently?”

She nodded. “He picks out a slave. Does what he likes with her.”

Janto bit his lip. “What can we do to stop him from doing it?”

“Kill him,” she said cheerfully.

Yes, kill. Sashi bared his teeth.

“Oh, no,” said Iolo. “You couldn’t possibly. There’d be an investigation.”

“Iolo’s right,” said Janto. “But start thinking. I helped one woman tonight, but that won’t help the one Micah chooses next time. Come up with an answer.”

10

When Rhianne arrived at the bench under the Poinciana for her language lesson the next morning, Janto wasn’t there. Annoyed, since it was beyond ridiculous for a slave not to show up for an appointment with an imperial princess, she sat down to wait for him. Ten minutes dragged by, and he did not come.

“Do you suppose he might be sick?” she asked her bodyguard.

“We could ask the head gardener,” replied Tamienne.

“What about that man?” Rhianne angled her head toward an anxious-looking slave who kept glancing over at her as he pulled weeds. “Maybe he knows something.” She raised her voice. “You there.”

The man stood, trembling but confused.

“Pox it,” said Rhianne. “Probably doesn’t speak Kjallan.” She switched to Mosari, hoping she wouldn’t need any difficult words. “Where is Janto?”

A flood of frantic Mosari erupted from the man.

“Wait, wait,” she called. “I don’t understand. Come closer.”

He approached.

“Speak slowly and use easy words. Please. Where is Janto?”

“Guards came,” said the man. “Took him.”

“What?” she cried. “Why?”

The man looked frightened. He shook his head and shrugged.

He knows something, but he doesn’t want to tell me, thought Rhianne. “What guards? Where did they take him?”

“Legaciatti,” said the slave. He pointed toward one of the garden exits.

Rhianne nodded. “Come on, Tami. We have to find him.”

“He said Legaciatti. If they took him—,” began her bodyguard.

“I don’t care.” If Janto’s crime had been something minor, like insubordination or being late to work, ordinary guards or the slave overseer would have dealt with it. Since the Legaciatti were involved, Janto was accused of something serious—theft or the assault of a Kjallan, perhaps. Or they might suspect him of being a spy. From what she’d seen of Janto, it didn’t surprise her terribly that he’d wound up on the wrong side of Kjallan law, but it did frighten her. She realized just how much she didn’t want to see Janto come to harm.

* * *

Janto was trapped. He’d been refilling his wheelbarrow in the company of three other slaves when a bruised and angry-looking Micah had stalked through the gate not twenty paces away, flanked by two orange-garbed Legaciatti. Janto could not throw a shroud over himself with an audience so near. He’d tried to discreetly slip away, but it hadn’t worked. Micah had spotted him.

Micah grabbed him by the tunic and hauled him before the Legaciatti. “This is the one. This is the slave who attacked me last night.”

Sashi, invisible, came running. I’ll bite him, su-kali!

Do not, cautioned Janto. Stay hidden and stay close. His ferret, who lived in the moment and lacked the capacity to regret past errors, would not chide him for failing to kill Micah the night before. But Janto had regrets enough for both of them.

“He’s not on the books?” asked a Legaciattus with a scar on his lip.

“No. I don’t even know his name.”

Lip Scar jerked his chin at his uniformed partner. “We’ll take it from here.”

The Legaciatti led Janto out of the garden and down a long pathway through the courtyard. They entered a small, simply furnished outbuilding with a table and four chairs. Sashi, still invisible, slipped in the door before they closed it and pressed himself into a corner, out of the way.

Kill them now? asked Sashi.

I don’t have a plan yet, said Janto. Sit tight. Killing, unfortunately, was beyond his means. They were armed, and he wasn’t, and one or both of them might be war mages.

Lip Scar pushed Janto into one of the chairs, cuffed his wrists, and sat down across from him. “Get a mind mage,” he ordered his partner, who nodded and left.

A mind mage. Janto felt sick with despair. They would use a truth spell on him, and then he would have two choices, either of which would reveal him. He could use his magic to repel the truth spell, but the mind mage would know if he did that, and he would give himself away as a mage. If he didn’t repel it, the mind mage would know when he lied. One way or another, he faced torture and death. Iolo had been right. Unless he could talk his way out of this, the best he could hope for was to take his poison pill.

“Tell me,” said Lip Scar, speaking Mosari. “How is it that we have an Imperial Garden slave with no paperwork, who is unknown to the overseer?”

“Sir, I believe you need a better overseer.”

Lip Scar snorted. “Oh?”

“The overseer spends his time ravishing the slave women. He has no interest in learning the names of the male slaves, or in keeping his paperwork up-to-date.”

“He says you attacked him.”

“He assaulted a woman,” said Janto. “It was an unfair fight, so I evened the odds.”

“You are not to assault your overseer under any circumstances,” said Lip Scar. “But disciplinary matters among slaves are not my concern. We’ll see how your story holds up when the mind mage gets here.” He shuffled through some papers, initialing a couple of them.

Your tame Kjallan is at the door, said Sashi.

Janto blinked. Tame Kjallan?

The door opened. “I heard you needed a mind mage.”

Janto turned and stared. It was Rhianne. The second Legaciattus followed her into the room.

Lip Scar leapt to his feet. “Your Imperial Highness! I requested a mind mage, but I would never have presumed to trouble you.”

Rhianne flashed him a dazzling smile. “It’s no trouble at all, Bruccian. I ran into your partner outside, and he said you were looking for one, and it happens I’ve no other obligations this morning. What sort of spell do you need?”