He stopped.
My mouth was suddenly very dry.
“What about the other guy?”
Adyar Lah shook his head. “No one knows. But he—his body or whatever was left of it—was never found. There was another expedition to that world, and they didn’t find anything; nothing that could kill one of our best men.”
He paused and it took me a while to understand what he was implying. “You think Tayrel Kan killed him,” I said, surprised how calm my voice sounded.
I remembered a few things about Tayrel Kan that struck me as odd; how he insisted that humans shouldn’t wield magic, and how he never worked with a partner. It all made sense now.
Surprisingly though, I couldn’t bring myself to think about him as a murderer. I spoke with Tayrel Kan; I knew he wasn’t a bad man, and having witnessed the power he wielded, it was not hard to imagine it getting out of control. So even if his partner died, I couldn’t think of it as anything other than an accident. Especially when one looked at the effect it had on him.
So no, knowing it didn’t make me think less of Tayrel Kan. The only thing I felt was deep sorrow.
Plus, the warnings given by Laik Var and Malyn Tol made much more sense now. I just wished one of them had bothered to tell me the truth. But that was a very Dahlsi thing to do—not to lie, just not tell you things.
“I don’t know.” He turned his head away. “Look, I learned my lesson about not judging people from what others say, but… everyone thinks so. Tayrel Kan doesn’t speak. There was an investigation, but he wouldn’t say a word, and without a body, there was no evidence, so…”
“So, he was acquitted. But still, everyone believes he’s a murderer.”
“Yeah.” He waved, but it lacked conviction. “You want to know the creepiest part?”
I gave him an encouraging nod.
“This guy’s first name… was Myar.”
He looked at me expectantly.
Again I wasn’t sure what he was implying, but then remembered his first reaction to my question about Tayrel Kan. Was the name another thing that made the sorcerer gravitate toward our kar-vessár? I wondered how popular it was. Come to think of it, I never met another Myar.
“Next you’re gonna tell me that he looked like our kar-vessár,” I tried joking, but it came out flat.
“I honestly don’t remember. I only saw him once or twice and always at a distance. But many people noticed Tayrel Kan displays an unhealthy obsession with our current leader. More than a simple infatuation. Crazy theories are circling, about how he sees him as a sort of reincarnation of this other guy?”
I couldn’t help raising my eyebrow. “That… does sound a bit crazy.”
“Everyone knows he’s not exactly stable. Wouldn’t that be something though? Tayrel Kan devoting himself to Myar Mal because he reminds him of the lover he killed?”
“I’m not sure if ‘devoting’ is the right word; I’ve heard they’re fighting all the time.”
The other thing Adyar Lah told me about Tayrel Kan’s previous relationship popped in my mind and I blushed.
“Yeah, but it’s all for show. Tayrel Kan may moan and bicker, but as soon as Myar Mal raises his voice, he shuts up and does as he’s told. I think some people exaggerate his defiance because no one else dares speaking up to kar-vessár.”
“I’ve heard Myar Mal was feeding Tayrel Kan drugs to make him easier to control.”
Adyar Lah sent me a lopsided grin. “You think someone like Tayrel Kan needs an incentive to get high? Not that he doesn’t have a reason, but still…” He paused for a moment, before picking up, “look, there are a lot of rumors—really nasty ones about Tayrel Kan. I don’t want to repeat them, or even wonder if they’re true. But anyway, there was a time when he was close to getting kicked out of Mespana. He pissed off all the vessár-ai; no one wanted to work with him. But then Myar Mal took him in and basically created a new position just for him.”
“Tayrel Kan is a powerful sorcerer.”
“Yeah, but how often does he use his skills?”
“He was pretty useful last time.”
“And it was his first job since Myar Mal became commissioned. Some people go so far as to call him Myar Mal’s pet.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. I leaned back, struggling to reconcile what I’d just heard with everything I’d learned before, wondering what was true and what was hearsay. I didn’t suspect Adyar Lah—or Saral Tal, for that matter—of trying to bash our leader or Tayrel Kan or anyone else. And yet, they couldn’t both be right. And both of them only based their knowledge on hearsay. It was impossible to discern what was fact, what was misheard, and what was just slander. In the end, the truth either lay somewhere in the middle or was completely different, and to figure out which, I would have to speak with one of the interested parties.
I couldn’t imagine it going well.
Besides, what I realized—and not without regret—was that I didn’t even know how to find Tayrel Kan now that we were back in Sfal.
My mood for company died after that. The waitress came to clear the dishes and asked if we needed anything else, but I wasn’t hungry. Adyar Lah paid the bill, and we both got ready to leave.
A man approached our table. A Chaarite, with skin like copper and dark, almond-shaped eyes. His head was completely hairless, with a line of white tattoos running through the middle, and he wore intricate clothing with more layers
