“My name is Jastanne ja Triln. I’m a merchant and sea captain.”
“What else?”
“I’m a chancellor in the Weaver’s movement.”
“What powers does she possess?” the king asked.
“In addition to shaping, she has mists and gleaning.”
Before the king could ask anything else, a voice called to him from a distance. A woman’s voice. A moment later, the duchess of Curlinte stepped into their circle, accompanied by several soldiers and a tall Qirsi man who was walking unsteadily and bleeding from a wound on the back of his head. This Qirsi also had shaping, as well as delusion magic, gleaning, and mists. No doubt he, too, was one of Dusaan’s chancellors.
Grinsa took hold of his magic.
“You!” the man said in a whisper, staring at him wide-eyed. “You’re the one who stopped me from killing them.”
“Yes.”
“He’s a minister, Your Majesty,” Diani said. “From Aneira, if his accent is any indication.”
“Actually,” Grinsa said, remembering descriptions of the man that he and Tavis had heard while journeying through the southern kingdom, “he’s more than that. If I’m not mistaken, this is Aneira’s archminister.”
“Is this true?” Kearney asked. “You’re Pronjed jal Drenthe?”
Grinsa expected the man to deny it, or at least to refuse to answer. But he merely nodded, hatred in his eyes as he looked sidelong at the gleaner.
Diani still had her dagger drawn. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the man. “He has shaping power,” she said. “And he used another magic on me, one that forced me to do things.”
Grinsa took a breath. He could see where this was going. “It’s called delusion. I’ve also heard it called mind- bending power.”
Marston had moved to stand beside the duchess and he was watching the minister warily. “Whatever it’s called, he’s clearly as dangerous as this woman, perhaps more so.”
“I agree,” the king said. “How do we guard Qirsi with such powers, gleaner? You can’t watch them all the time, and our weapons are of little use against them.”
The thane shook his head. “They shouldn’t be imprisoned. They should be executed. They’re traitors and murderers, and they deserve no less.”
“I agree,” Gershon said.
Keziah looked at him, but said nothing.
Caius was gripping his sword tightly, as if he would have liked to strike the killing blow himself. But he kept his distance from the two Qirsi. “How do you execute a shaper? Our weapons are useless against them.”
Marston nodded toward Grinsa. “The gleaner can kill them. He can use their own power against them.”
“I can,” Grinsa said. “But I won’t.”
“What?”
“I fought for the courts, and was glad to do so. But I won’t execute prisoners for you.”
“Not even if His Majesty orders you to?”
Grinsa held the thane’s gaze. “Not even then.”
“You know what they’ve done, what they’ll do again, if only we give them the chance. And still you refuse? All you white-hairs are the same!”
Xivled jal Viste stepped forward, glowering at Marston. “White-hairs?” he repeated. “You haven’t learned a damn thing from all this, have you?”
The thane’s eyes widened. “Xiv, I-”
“No, my lord. You need to hear this. We’ve just come through the most horrific war our land has known in centuries. I never thought I’d see so many killed in my lifetime, much less in a single day. And all of them died because our people-yours and mine-have paid more attention to the color of each other’s eyes and hair, than to all that binds us to one another. It has to stop, my lord. Your suspicion, your prejudice-we can’t afford them anymore. We need to find some way to trust one another, to put these ancient hatreds to rest finally and for good. If we can’t, we’re doomed to repeat this war.”
“Of course, I know that. But this gleaner-”
“This gleaner saved us all, my lord. He’s done enough. If you can’t see that, then I’m not certain that I wish to continue serving in your court.”
Before Marston could respond, his minister turned and walked away, leaving the thane looking perplexed.
For some time, none of them spoke.
“He’s right, of course,” Keziah said at last.
“Let it be, Kez,” the king said in a low voice.
“No, Your Majesty, I won’t! That’s what we’ve done for too long. We’ve refused to talk about it, hoping the problem would simply disappear, and as a result it nearly destroyed us. We can’t wait any longer.”
“All that may be true, but this is a discussion we can have later.”
“When? When the dead have been buried? When the rest of the renegades have been found? When the wounds of this war have healed? Or must we wait even longer than that? Shouldn’t we do this now, before your dukes return to their castles?”
“You’re wasting your breath, cousin,” Jastanne said, an insolent smile on her lips. “The Eandi will never change. They hate us, and do you know why? It’s because they fear us, they fear our magic.” She shook her head. “No, you can’t change them. Your only hope lay with the Weaver and his movement, and now you’ve destroyed that.”
Kearney stared at the woman, as if seeing her for the first time. At last he faced Keziah again. “We won’t wait long. Discussing this matter before we bid farewell to the dukes strikes me as a fine idea. I give you my word. For now though, we should deal with these two, and any other renegades we can find.”
“Your Majesty-”
“Have done, Marston. Please. I have no intention of ordering the gleaner to do anything that he does not choose to do voluntarily.”
Grinsa tipped his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Nevertheless, Grinsa, I do agree that this man and woman should be put to death, and I need to know if you intend to intervene on their behalf.”
Grinsa felt the others watching him, waiting. Gershon still held his weapon, as did the duchess, Caius, and several of the soldiers. He was quite certain that they were prepared to fight him if they thought it necessary.
“No, Your Majesty, I have no such intentions. If you think it best to execute them, you should do so.”
Kearney nodded.
Keziah glanced Grinsa’s way, then said, “You should blindfold them, Your Majesty. Keep their hands bound, and bind their ankles as well. You should also have several archers watching them at all times.”
“Thank you, Archminister.” The king turned to his soldiers. “You heard what she said. See to it right away, and have preparations made for their executions. I want them dead before nightfall.” He looked at Grinsa again, nodded once. “Gleaner.”
The king strode away, followed closely by Shanstead, Labruinn, and the others.
“I’m sorry,” Keziah said when they were gone.
“For what?”
“For telling Kearney how he should guard them. The truth is, I want them dead. I never thought I’d say it, but in spite of everything else, I agree with Marston: they deserve to die.”
“Actually, I agree with him, too.”
Her eyebrows went up.
“It’s true,” he said, feeling terribly weary. “I just didn’t want a hand in their deaths. Is that so difficult to fathom?”
His sister looked pained. “No, not at all. I should have understood.”
He shrugged. “It’s been a long day. For all of us.”
She summoned one of the soldiers with a gesture. “I’m going to get some food. Why don’t you join me? You must be famished.”
