Another hearty laugh broke from Maddek. “That might be truth. But tell me, was it her compliance that sent the message to me in Ephorn, so I would steal her away—though it meant sacrificing the throne you say she coveted?”
“What ambition is greater—to be queen of Toleh or queen of the Burning Plains? Of course she saw an opportunity and took it.” His gaze darted to Gareth, who had been quietly watching. “Forgive me. I do not mean to say that Toleh is the lesser of the two. Only that she could not resist gaining control of the Parsathean army.”
“You think the riders would serve as a demon’s puppets?” Maddek’s amusement hardened, then faded altogether as he turned away from Bazir and addressed the Tolehi minister. “This sly-tongued cur only wishes to conceal the corruption that has festered in Syssia since Zhalen took the throne. Nothing of what Bazir claims happened to my mother and father could he have seen with his own eyes, not while he served on the council in Ephorn. He was but a swaddling babe when Yvenne was born and can be no true witness to the birth he claims was a demon’s or the queen’s attempt to strangle her. Yet my bride was in Syssia when my parents were murdered. She saw with her own eyes what happened to my mother and father, and so I weigh her truth more heavily than his.”
The minister gave a slow nod. “Zhalen gave an account of what he saw with his own eyes, yet now his son claims those were lies told to conceal a demon daughter and heir to the throne. Whatever the truth of your bride’s nature, clearly the testimony given in that original investigation was false. So the council will reopen the inquiry into their murders.”
“Best the council not waste its time,” Maddek replied. “Other matters are of greater concern. Vela told us that the Destroyer returns, and dark sorcery is being used within the realms. With my own eyes, I saw magic used to raise revenants.”
Gareth glanced at Yvenne. “You told Prince Cadus that it was your brother Aezil who made these revenants?”
Bazir scoffed. “You cast blame on our brother, though it is you who were there—and it is well known that a demon can also make revenants.”
“Only by befouling them with flesh and blood, not with spells cast from afar,” Maddek said. “With my own eyes, I saw that Yvenne never had opportunity to befoul the corpses that rose and attacked us. With my own eyes, I saw a Rugusian red-footed eagle flying above us.”
And Gareth had also marched against Stranik’s Fang, knew how those priests had used their magic to raise revenants exactly as Maddek described.
His face troubled, the Tolehi minister looked from Bazir to Yvenne again. “Are you certain it was Aezil and not another, unknown sorcerer?”
She was certain. But did she have evidence? Not even Vela had spoken a confirmation that her father and brother were serving the Destroyer.
“I have no proof it was Aezil,” she admitted.
Her brother gave her a triumphant look. “No proof, because there is no proof to be had. Aezil is no sorcerer.”
“With my own eyes, I witnessed the goddess Vela give my bride the task of forming a great alliance to stand against the Destroyer—and to root out the poisonous seeds he left behind. Though we have no evidence that one of those seeds is Aezil, he has lost an eye, and a Rugusian eagle was used as a familiar along the river road at the same time Yvenne’s family had reason to be searching for her. Neither of those is proof of his sorcery. But in combination, they give compelling reason to suspect him.”
Gareth nodded. “So they do.”
“She is the poisonous seed left behind,” Bazir insisted. “A demon raised by the Destroyer himself. If there was a task given, it was to you, Commander—so that you could continue the legacy of your mother and father, who gave so much to the alliance. It is only Yvenne’s influence that warps your view. She is determined to destroy each member of the royal house of Syssia, one by one. Now she twists a task given by a goddess to justify killing another brother.”
This time his relentless lies had not as much effect on the others. For instead of renewed doubt, Gareth asked of Maddek, “You were given order not to harm Zhalen’s sons, and the Syssian soldiers who returned with Cezan’s body claimed it was Nyset’s heir who killed him. Was that truth?”
“It was,” Yvenne answered proudly, unsheathing the jeweled dagger at her calf and holding it up for them to see. “Maddek did not touch him. Instead I used Cezan’s own blade to pierce his heart from behind.”
Anger flashed through Bazir’s moonstone gaze like the flash of firelight on the silver blade. “One by one,” he said again, each word a hard bite instead of his usual slick tongue. “Until each of us is dead by her hand. What do you say to that, Commander?”
Maddek grunted and turned approving eyes upon her. “I say she has made a good start.”
“A good—” Her brother halted, blinked. “You say it was a good start?”
Unlike every other emotion he’d shown, the outrage and disbelief in that shrill echo was not faked, and the realization dawning over his face was like a dagger twisting into Yvenne’s heart, but despite the agonizing pain it wasn’t blood that spilled out. Only rage, rage, rage, swelling up her throat in a howling shriek—but her mother had taught her well.
Never give warning.
Bazir’s expression twisted with malicious glee. “Did you not tell him, demon? He knows you murdered Lazen and Cezan. But does your barbarian know that you also killed our—”
Yvenne hurled the dagger with all her strength. No arrow it was, yet still her goddess-gifted aim was true, and the knife flew straight to Bazir’s eye.
Her aim was true; the throw was not. Instead of the sharpened point, the jeweled handle thunked into her target. Still, Bazir screamed in pain and slapped a hand over his eye. The dagger clattered to the table. Both Cadus and Gareth lurched to their feet, shock and alarm elongating their faces with mouths gaping open and eyebrows shooting to hairlines. The attendants scrambled, some running to help Bazir and others running to shout for help.
Heart thundering, Yvenne sat back. Bazir was curled over, hand cupped over his eye, and not screaming now but resisting with gritted teeth the Tolehi minister’s attempts to examine the wound.
The bridge of his nose bled from a thin cut, where the misthrown blade had sliced his skin. She had hoped for great spurts of blood. Those few drops were not enough.
Beside her, Maddek calmly took another bite of fish. “Did you not say we shouldn’t let him provoke us?”
Her rage was not over. In a low voice she hissed, “Why did you not let me speak of what truly happened? Why did you leave me no defense against his lies?”
“Because a warrior makes use of what she has.”
“And you thought this was a good time for a lesson?”