“Tain want—I mean, the Chancellor wanted to negotiate a peace,” I reminded her. “The rebels were provoked and manipulated, and he didn’t want any more people to die. Could you just get them to surrender? Surely they won’t try to fight once they have enemies on both sides.”
The Warrior-Guilder looked me over for a long time. Then she sighed. “I will do what seems best. If they surrender, fine. It is no grand thing to slaughter our own countrymen. But you have to understand, Credola, my soldiers are patriots. Their capital was betrayed in their absence, and they will want to avenge it. We’ll do what we can, but the Chancellor is not with us to negotiate anymore.”
The dull, hollow place inside me grew a little bigger, but I pressed on. Aven was angry, and probably felt that she had been made a fool to be distracted by the Doran shenanigans, but I worried that those feelings would prevent her from seeing the rebels’ side. “But someone will negotiate,” I said. “The Council will probably have voted on a leader, at least until Tain’s cousin Merenda can take over.”
“If she is still alive,” Aven said grimly. “If she wasn’t in Silasta, where was she?”
I had no answer for that. Hopefully Merenda was safely in Telasa and nowhere near the Iliri estates. Bad enough that an untrained relative, not even a formal Heir, should become the Chancellor. But if Tain’s cousin was dead, I didn’t even know who was next in line. Merenda might have had a brother, but I couldn’t remember. Casimira’s scandalous exit from Silasta had dramatically reduced the viable number of Iliri heirs. Perhaps none of Tain’s relatives had survived at all. Which of the scheming, self-interested Credol Families would replace the Iliris?
“It doesn’t matter now,” Aven said. “The Council will decide what to do once we’ve secured the city. But that is my priority, Credola: securing the city. If we have to carve our way through some traitors first, I can’t pretend many here will lose sleep over it.”
With that less than reassuring thought, Aven swooped out of the tent.
* * *
A short time later I was bustled from the camp and down to the river, where the large military boats awaited. My assigned guard was the scout who had found me. He told me his name—Garan—but admitted he’d been asked not to speak to me except as necessary.
“Surely the Warrior-Guilder doesn’t think you’re a spy,” I said, as he showed me into a small cabin. After days of silence, I didn’t much fancy the idea of having no one to talk to. The cabin already felt claustrophobic.
Garan leaned against the door. “No, but best to be safe, I s’pose. We already had a few incidents. I thought you were another Doranite spy, when we first saw you out there.”
“So … you’ve found spies before?” I asked, hoping to keep him talking. Any conversation was better than none, even if we couldn’t talk about what was happening in the city. The boat wobbled and I stumbled, then regained my balance. Military boats differed from the smooth, plump passenger boats I’d traveled on in the past.
“We’ve caught a few skulking around the camp since we’ve been here,” Garan said. This time when the boat wobbled he was quick to offer a steadying hand. He gave me a shy smile. “The Warrior-Guilder trusted me to guard one of them, too. I—” He broke off, looking ashamed, as a group of soldiers walked past. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Best take to your bunk and rest.”
He shut the cabin door behind him, leaving me with nothing but the light of a small lamp and my thoughts. I explored the tiny cabin, but it was barely a few paces in total, windowless, just a box with a bunk and an empty chest. I sat down on the bunk. Even though the guard was for my protection, I felt rather trapped.
Poison rookgrass
DESCRIPTION: Fine-stemmed, attractive silvery grass, producing dry clusters of seeds in late summer. Seeds relatively harmless to birds, including bindies, but toxic to humans if consumed directly or through eating flesh of heavily affected birds.
SYMPTOMS: Extreme dryness of the mouth and throat, scarlet rash, dilated pupils, convulsions.
PROOFING CUES: Seeds carry a harsh, dry flavor. Affected birds, particularly bindies, demonstrate a yellowish tinge to the flesh and a pungent, enlarged liver.
25
Jovan
The Stone-Guilder stared up at us, eyes wide, mouth open, like a frightened child. The shrine behind her bore a sigil I now recognized as the mark of the lake spirit. It had been built with great love and care against the damp wall out of woven lockwort branches interspersed with bluehood and surrounded by little ceramic pots of scented oil. The floor was protected by reeds, and a well-made blanket covered the pallet. She had taken time with this place, used it the fortunes knew how many times, all the while pretending to know nothing of the catacombs.
“You know, you’re quite the liar, Eliska,” I said, and meant it. “All those times you pretended not to sympathize with the Darfri. You helped us when that boy was beaten but then you wouldn’t back Tain in Council afterward. You pretended not to believe people when they said they’d seen Darfri magic at the siege. And all the while, here you were. Honor-down, you had us fooled.”
Eliska didn’t respond, just stared at us, stricken.
“There is no secret now,” Hadrea said. “You had just as well finish getting dressed, and talk to us.”
The Stone-Guilder dropped her head and cried.
Hadrea glanced at me, eyes narrowed with the same doubt piercing me. I’d thought of the traitor as a merciless killer; after all, they’d murdered the Chancellor and my Tashi, as well as several other innocent people. They’d helped orchestrate an attack on the city, destroying the lives and homes of thousands. They’d tried to murder Tain. I struggled to reconcile my mental image with the pathetic figure quaking before us. And yet, there was no good reason for what we had uncovered down here.
“Eliska, why? We trusted you.”
She sobbed louder. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she said. She looked up at me with red eyes, her face streaked with tears and cosmetics. “You’ve no idea how hard I worked, Jovan.”
I almost laughed, the comment was so absurd. “You want me to feel sorry for you because your scheme took a lot of effort?”
“What do you mean?” Then she clutched at me, eyes wild. “You don’t think it was me? Who poisoned them? I’m not the traitor! Fortunes, I know this looks bad, but Jovan, I’m not the enemy, I swear to you.”
I stepped out of reach. “Clearly you’ve been hiding your religion—you’re down here performing some kind of ritual every night—what for? And where are we, Eliska? How did you know about these caves, and why didn’t you tell us if you’re not our enemy?”
She dropped her head in her hands. “I … I found them marked on an old map at the Guildhall. Months ago, Jovan, I swear, it has nothing to do with the siege. I was going to do a full exploration, but Chancellor Caslav told me not to.”
I frowned. “You went to the Chancellor?”
“Of course! No one seemed to know about this place anymore—it predates the lower city. A lot of it’s natural. There are bones down here, skeletons of some giant tunneling creature. But you can see on the map that some of it has been expanded or extended. I found the entrance and this part of the system seemed sound, but when I went to the Chancellor he told me it was dangerous and that he didn’t want people trying to go treasure hunting and getting hurt. I put the maps away and didn’t think about it again.”