the day Dusaan told Harel the very lie over which Kayiv eventually became so agitated. Stavel had suggested a possible solution to a dispute in the south, and Harel, happening upon him in the gardens, had complimented him on his inspiration.
He had come to believe that this was why the emperor had approached him, of all people. Still, he thought it strange. Was it possible that Harel had so little contact with his advisors that this one encounter had made Stavel his most trusted Qirsi? It seemed impossible, yet the chancellor could think of no other explanation for what had happened that night near the end of Elined’s waxing.
Kayiv had been dead but two days, and for the first time in memory, the emperor’s court no longer felt like a haven from the violence that seemed to have gripped every other court in the Forelands. Stavel had just retired for the night, when there came a knock at his door. Surprised-he so rarely had visitors at any time of day-and just a bit frightened, he lit the candle by his bed with a thought, crossed to the door, and opened it cautiously.
Two of Harel’s guards stood in the corridor, resplendent in their uniforms of gold and red.
“Th’ emperor wants a word with ye, Chanc’lor,” one of them said, with the icy courtesy that such men always seemed to reserve for the palace’s higher-ranking Qirsi.
His apprehension growing by the moment, Stavel quickly changed back into his ministerial robes and followed the men through the palace corridors to the imperial chamber.
He found Harel there, pacing the stone floors, gripping his jeweled scepter with both hands. He halted when the guard announced Stavel, and regarded the chancellor for just a moment before dismissing the guards. One of his wives reclined in a nest of lush pillows near the hearth, and he ordered her from the chamber as well.
“Sit down, Stavel,” he said, stepping to his marble throne.
The chancellor did as he was told, but the emperor remained standing. After a moment he resumed his pacing.
“Terrible,” he said, “this business with Kayiv.” He shook his head, a frown on his fleshy face.
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“Did you know him well?”
The chancellor’s heart was pounding. Did the emperor know of Dusaan’s lie, of the discussions Stavel had with Kayiv as they tried to decide whether to bring it to Harel’s attention? Or worse, having heard that Kayiv was a traitor, that he tried to turn Nitara to his cause before forcing himself on her, did the emperor suspect that Stavel was a traitor as well? “Not very well, Your Eminence,” he said at last, his voice unsteady.
“Do you believe he was a traitor?”
“I believe what Nitara has told us of their encounter, so, yes, I suppose I do.”
The emperor stopped by one of his windows, turning to face Stavel. “Do you believe the woman might be a traitor, too?”
“I don’t think so, Your Eminence.”
“Are you a traitor, Stavel?”
His eyes widened. “No, Your Eminence! I swear I’m not!”
Harel nodded. “I believe you. Indeed, that’s why I’ve summoned you here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I’m convinced that there are other traitors in my palace. I’ve heard a great deal about this conspiracy-how it works, how its leaders entice others to join-and I find it very hard to believe that Kayiv was alone. I think this woman might have been a part of it. She shared his bed for a long time before all this ugliness. Perhaps there was more to their relations than mere lust.” He began to wander the room again. “And I suspect others may be involved as well. I want you to find out.”
“Me, Your Eminence?”
“Does that surprise you, Stavel?”
“Actually, it does, Your Eminence. I would have thought that you would entrust the high chancellor with such a task.”
The emperor gave a small smile. “Who’s to say how many people I intend to enlist in this effort? Given the nature of this conspiracy, wouldn’t I be foolish to place my faith in only one person?”
Stavel hadn’t thought of this, and he found himself impressed with the workings of the emperor’s mind. “I see. Your Eminence is most wise.”
“I want you to learn what you can about your fellow Qirsi, the high chancellor included.”
Stavel felt himself blanch. “The high chancellor, Your Eminence?”
“That frightens you, doesn’t it?” the emperor asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”
“The high chancellor is a … a formidable man, Your Eminence. He’s the most powerful Qirsi in your palace. Should he decide that one of us is no longer fit to serve you, he can have us banished from your court.”
“Only with my consent, Stavel. Never forget that. Dusaan serves in this court at my pleasure, and should he try to have you banished, as you say, I won’t allow it to happen.”
Even then, sitting in the emperor’s chamber, surrounded by the trappings of imperial power, Stavel could not help but wonder if this man, or anyone else for that matter, could protect him from the high chancellor.
Their discussion ended a few moments later and Stavel returned to his chamber, accompanied once more by the two guards. He hadn’t spoken with the emperor since, though he had tried to find out what he could about his fellow Qirsi. He began to take his meals in the kitchens and halls rather than in his private chambers, allowing himself to overhear conversations to which, only a short time before, he would have been too well mannered to listen. He spoke with guards-casually, he hoped-about the comings and goings of the palace Qirsi, not only the ministers and chancellors, but also the healers and fire conjurers. He even dared ask about Dusaan, though to a man they denied having seen him leave the palace even once during the past several turns. This struck Stavel as odd, indeed nearly as much so as if they had told him that the high chancellor left the palace frequently, but he had no idea what to make of it.
There were other peculiarities as well. Several turns before, it seemed, Nitara and Kayiv had left the palace together with some frequency, often returning later bearing some new trinket for the woman. And two other Qirsi, healers both, spent a good deal of time down at the wharves along the riverbank. Again, however, Stavel didn’t know what any of this meant. His was not the mind of a conspirator; he had no talent for connivance. He learned what he could, having no sense of what to do with the knowledge he gathered. Knowing nothing for certain, he couldn’t very well take any of this to the emperor. Nor could he ask anyone else what they thought of all he had learned, not without revealing himself as Harel’s spy.
For the first time in all his years in Curtell, Stavel had truly been taken into the emperor’s confidence. And he had never felt so isolated.
Attending the daily discussions with Dusaan and the emperor’s other advisors proved to be both the easiest and most difficult part of his work on Harel’s behalf. Whenever he spoke with the guards, the chancellor spent every moment terrified that he would be discovered by another of the emperor’s advisors. He had no such fears during the gatherings of chancellors and ministers. Even if Dusaan learned later that someone had reported to the emperor on the substance of their discussion, the high chancellor would have no way of knowing which of them was the informer. On the other hand, Stavel could not help feeling that he had betrayed all of his fellow Qirsi, and at no time was his guilt more pronounced than during these deliberations. As far as Stavel was concerned, they couldn’t end quickly enough.
Midway through Elined’s waning, just over half a turn after the tragedy in Nitara’s chamber, Stavel began to hear rumors of a contentious exchange between Dusaan and the emperor. According to some, guards mostly, the emperor had the high chancellor disarmed and hooded before allowing Dusaan into the imperial chamber. Others said that it had gone far beyond that. The high chancellor, it was whispered, had been bound hand and foot before being granted entry. Once inside, it seemed that Dusaan had argued with the emperor, complaining about the treatment of palace Qirsi since Kayiv’s death. Exactly what the two men said remained vague in these tales, and Stavel might have been skeptical about the whole affair had it not been for a notable change in Dusaan’s demeanor soon after the day in question.
Thinking about it later, Stavel realized that the first signs of change in Dusaan’s behavior began to manifest themselves the morning after this alleged argument. The high chancellor appeared distracted during the ministerial discussion, which itself was unusual. But more to the point, Dusaan didn’t seem bored, as he often did. Rather, he was seething, as if whatever occupied his mind so infuriated him that it was all the high chancellor could do simply to sit still. He ended their discussion abruptly, long before a debate over how best to respond to an outbreak of
