“I think you may be right. Here are the two I translated.”
The first read: ailk recalled to queens camp given more riders appears in favor rumor she is to be made general wolves with her. The second read: no general ailk shows no ill will openly but ire among ranks hawk seen three times spent several hours alone in tent unable to get close wolves too loyal forgive slow progress difficult.
“This ‘hawk’ again,” Thero noted. “And Klia’s name spelled backward. But still with no clue as to who the hawk is, or the wolves.”
“ ‘Wolves’?” said Seregil, surprised the wizard hadn’t twigged. “Urghazi is Plenimaran for ‘ghost wolves.’ It’s common knowledge, especially in the cavalry.”
“The message said that the wolves are too loyal. Too loyal to do what? Involve in a coup to convince her to mutiny? Or too loyal to turn against her?”
“Either one could be true, believe me. They’re her personal guard.”
“You don’t need to convince me, Seregil. What else did you make of them?”
“All three were written in the same hand, so one spy,” Seregil replied. “And they were all written on grubby scraps of parchment with rough surfaces and torn edges. Cheap scrap. What does that suggest to you?”
“That’s what the military uses. Even Klia.”
Seregil nodded. “So there may be a spy in the regiment. And I think I know who it might be.”
“Who?”
“Reltheus’s son Danos also serves under Klia.”
“He serves in Klia’s squadron?”
“You didn’t know?”
“He didn’t at the time of the hunt last winter. Perhaps Elani had something to do with it, since she was so taken with him.”
“More likely the father.”
“But it makes sense. The father would trust his own son above anyone else. I do wish he’d been a bit more forthright in his communications, though this is quite a help all the same. But why spy on her at all?”
“Perhaps it’s not only Klia they’re worried about. Perhaps there’s a rival cabal who favor Klia for the throne. I hate to say it, but the letter from Malthus, and the fact that Reltheus has it, suggest that he may be part of one.”
Thero frowned down at the messages. “Two warring cabals. That doesn’t bode well.”
“Not with the unrest already brewing in the city. I can’t help thinking of that list Alec found, the one with us and a number of our acquaintances, including Malthus, on it. I think it’s safe to say that Reltheus’s cabal has taken an interest in us, though I have no idea why. But we’re going to need a lot more than we have here to prove anything one way or the other.”
Thero turned back to the messages regarding Klia. “Even by the royal courier service, it takes at least a week by land to get a message back to Rhíminee, and nearly that long by sea,” he mused. “These messages could be old news by the time they get here. And by the time any kind of answer was sent, things could have changed completely.”
“I’m afraid this is as far as I can take you for now,” Seregil told him, “unless we find more of these.”
“This is frustrating. Without names, interpretation is impossible. And he has letters from Elani, as well. What is he doing with those? They don’t contain anything particularly sensitive. Do you think it’s connected with the cabals?”
“If Malthus had them, then I’d be more inclined to think so, but with it being Reltheus? He’s very anxious for Danos to marry Elani. Could be he’s looking for signs of favor, or mention of rival suitors.”
“I’d like to know who in Elani’s household is doing the copying.”
“I’m working on that.”
“If you’re right, then Reltheus is taking a terrible risk. If word of this ever got out, he’d be ruined at court, if not worse!” Thero paused, drawn to the coded messages again. “Why would anyone think that Klia would betray her sister and niece in the first place?”
“Because someone other than Klia is thinking of doing it? Reltheus clearly knows something we don’t.”
“Klia simply wouldn’t involve herself in something like that!”
Seregil clapped Thero on the shoulder. “I don’t believe it, either. But there could be a faction building that plans to put her on the throne, even without her knowledge of what they are planning.”
Thero ran a hand back through his black curls. “You must get me more than this. There’s nothing that proves that Danos is the one, other than supposition.”
“Don’t you think it’s time we communicated directly with Klia? I’m guessing you can do that.”
Thero nodded. “I will, after you and I are done.”
“I see.”
“Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
Thero scowled. “Like you know something.”
Seregil held up his hands, grinning. “I don’t know a thing, and I’m not asking. I’ll leave you to it.”
When Seregil was gone, the wizard went to his bedchamber, shut the door, and retrieved the marble box containing Klia’s handkerchief from the wardrobe. Opening it, he held it to his nose for a moment, imagining that the scent of her perfume still lingered there. Her fingers had brushed his when she gave it to him, one of a hundred such innocent touches that heated his body—
Stop it! he told himself sternly. A princess and a wizard? It was impossible, but that didn’t cool his passion, just made him ache to the center of his being. Seeing her wounded so recently had only made it worse.
Pressing the precious handkerchief between his palms, he spoke the spell softly and waited for the vision to take shape. His unruly heart was racing again at the thought of actually seeing her.
The vision came almost instantly. Klia was lying on a cot again, grimacing as a healer bandaged a wound on her leg. Her breeches were off, leaving her in just her linen, and he felt a rush of heat through his body at the sight of those smooth, slender legs.
He waited while Myrhini covered her with a blanket. The tall, dark-haired woman’s face was solemn as she looked down at the princess and asked, “How is it?”
Klia flexed her leg under the blanket and gave her friend a wincing grin. “I’ll be able to ride tomorrow.”
“You heard what the healer said.”
Klia snorted as she folded her arms behind her head. “I’ll be fine.”
Choosing his moment, Thero opened a small window spell a few feet from the two women and whispered, “Your Highness.”
Myrhini’s hand flew to her sword hilt as she looked around, instantly alert to possible danger.
“It’s all right. It’s just Thero coming to call again,” Klia said with a chuckle as she found Thero’s face floating in midair. “Hello, my friend. Do you have some news for me?”
“May we speak alone?”
“Since when do I not speak openly before Myrhini?”
“It’s all right, Klia,” Myrhini said, stepping out of Thero’s view.
Klia waited a moment, watching her go, then turned back to the wizard. “Well?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
How to couch it? thought Thero. “Seregil and Alec have been working for me. I believe they’ve uncovered a spy in your regiment.”
Her bright blue eyes widened. “A spy? Who?”
“Captain Danos.”
“That can’t be right!”
“We have some evidence, Klia, but not enough, and it’s not completely clear what he’s up to. It appears that he’s been sending his father coded messages about your movements.”
Klia’s expression darkened. “Impossible! Why would he be doing that?”
Thero paused, not relishing what he had to say next. “We think that his father, Duke Reltheus, believes you might be plotting to supplant Elani for the throne.”
The incredulous look she gave him eased his heart considerably. “On what grounds?”
“Again, we’re not quite sure, except that there may be a cabal unknown to you who want you on the throne. But Relt
heus definitely means to marry Danos to the princess royal.”
“Thero, are you asking if I am plotting against Elani and the queen?”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Thank you for that. But if it needs to be said, I’m not. I have no reason to.”
“I know. But Duke Reltheus seems to think there is a cabal working on your behalf. He could be right about that. Alec found a list of names, including his, mine, Seregil’s, and Duke Malthus’s. And yours.”
“If word of this got to Phoria—”
“I understand. We’re working as quickly as we can to learn more. We haven’t even spoken to your brother yet. In one of Danos’s coded letters, he mentions someone called ‘the hawk,’ someone close to you. Does that mean anything to you?”
“That’s what the riders call General Moraus.”
“Is it unusual for him to visit you?”
“Not at all. He’s my commanding officer, and he’s known me all my life. He’s been concerned about my losses.”
“He is not alone. There are those in Rhíminee who think Phoria is trying to get you killed.”
“That’s ridiculous. We’re stretched thin this year. Every officer is doing all they can with what they have. You know the Queen’s Horse has always been in the forefront.”
“In one of the messages Seregil found, it sounds as if the queen was considering making you general of the regiment, then changed her mind?”
“There was some concern about General Moraus’s health—a summer fever—but he recovered. I have no hard feelings over it, Thero.”
Thero feared that Klia might be too trusting, but he kept that to himself for now. “The messages also mentioned ‘wolves.’ Seregil thinks that may refer to Urghazi Turma. They’re referred to as being too loyal.”
“To whom? The queen or me?”
“We don’t know for certain, but I assume to you.”
“Do you think Elani is in any danger?”
“There’s no evidence of that yet, but Seregil and Alec have recently been taken into the royal circle, thanks, ironically, to Reltheus himself.”
“She must be protected at all costs! You have to go to Korathan with this.”
“We need to gather more evidence before we risk implicating anyone. Seregil and Alec won’t be much good to me in the Tower, or me to you.”
“I don’t like it, Thero. The longer I keep this from Phoria and Korathan, the worse it looks for me.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But do you really want a repeat of what happened with your mother, with the falsely accused traitors being executed? We could have lost Seregil then.”
“Very well. But I want regular reports!”
“Of course. It could be that Reltheus is merely being cautious, considering you potential competition for the throne. My fear is that you may be in danger, one way or another. Do you have spies of your own?”
“Yes, but they’ve never been called to spy on their own comrades.”
“I’m afraid it’s necessary now.”
“But what am I supposed to do about Danos? He’s a damn good captain, and I’ve never had any reason to doubt his loyalty to me or the regiment. Sakor’s Flame, Thero, it was his people who were killed the night the assassins came after me.”
A ruse to throw off suspicion? “Watch him. And you and your spies will need the key to the code.”
Klia reached under the bed for a wax tablet and a stylus and copied down the specifics of the offset code. When they were done, she set the tablet aside and ran a hand over her chestnut widow’s peak. “Once again, I wish you were here, my friend.”
“So do I,” Thero replied, heart beating a little faster at her words. “I miss our peaceful time in Aurënen.”
“I do, too, very much. But this war can’t last forever. If nothing else, I’ll be back in a few months. You still owe me a round of cards, you know.”
Thero smiled. “Of course. I look forward to it.” Then he paused. “How is the war progressing?”
“Well, I think. We crossed the Folcwine two weeks ago and are in southern Mycena. Resistance is hardening against us, but Phoria believes we can break through.”
“Sakor’s luck to you all. Be careful. I can’t bear finding you wounded every time I look in on you.”
She grinned. “I’ll try, but no promises. Good night, my dear friend.”
Thero closed the spell and sat for a moment, trying to hold her image in his mind a little longer, and the sound of her voice as she called him “dear friend.”
It was all he dared hope for, but when he slept that night, his dreams were filled—as they so often were—with that sweet voice and lovely visage, and, tonight, the sight of a bandage encircling a slender bare leg.
WHEN Thero was gone, Klia lay there for a moment, picturing his face and, as always, missing the wizard more for having had such a fleeting glimpse of him. During those precious, peaceful months together in Aurënen, she’d come to first like Thero, then something more began to develop—or so she thought. One moment they’d be laughing together, the next he’d be his old stiff and formal self again. But tonight, just before he’d broken off the spell, she was sure she’d seen him color when she called him “friend.”
She had no time for such thoughts now. Pulling the blanket around her, she limped to the tent door, where two of Beka’s men were on guard duty. “Rider Yonus, send a runner for your captain. Where’s the major?”
“Here.” Myrhini stepped from the shadows beyond the watch fire.
“Come in, and close the flap.” Klia lowered herself into one of the chairs by the map table with her wounded leg stretched out in front of her. “We have a problem.”
It was not unusual for Beka to be called to Klia’s tent. But Klia’s and Myrhini’s deadly serious expressions as she came in made her halt just inside the tent flap. “Commander?”
“Come, sit with us,” Klia said, gesturing her to a stool very close to her own. She and the major appeared to be trying to keep anyone else from hearing. Beka soon understood why.
“You’ve never given me reason to doubt your honor, Beka,” Klia began. “Apart from Myrhini, I trust you the most of any of my officers, so I’m about to put my life in your hands.”
Beka went down on one knee and pressed her fist to her chest. “Your Highness, command me.”
“No need for that. Sit, please. I’ve had some disturbing news. There may be a cabal who want to put me on the throne in my niece’s place. There’s another that may be working against me. Beka, would you say you’re friends with Captain Danos?”
Beka felt a flicker of apprehension. “Yes, Commander, I am. I saved his life in the spring and he’s done the same for me. He’s a good man, and a friend.”
“That makes this even harder. I’ve had word from Thero that Danos may be sending news of my movements to his father in code. Do you know of any reason he would be doing that?”
“No,” Beka replied, shocked.
“Thero is working on this from Rhíminee, with the usual help. I need you to be my eyes and ears here, Beka.”
“Of course, Commander,” said Beka at once, though she disliked the idea of spying on her own people. She liked what Klia said next even less.
“The information Thero has is still unclear, but there was mention, we think, of your Urghazi Turma.”
“You want me to spy on them?”
“Both you and they are known to be completely loyal to me. The conspirators supporting me might approach you, thinking that supersedes your loyalty to the queen.”
Beka thought of the conversation she’d had with Sergeant Werneus the night after the battle at the ford. “We’re good Skalans, Commander, and Phoria is our queen.”
“And when Elani takes the throne?”
“As I said,” Beka replied solemnly. “We are loyal to the queen, whoever wears the crown.”
“As am I.” Klia smiled sadly. “I know what I’m asking of you. But there’s no one else I can trust with t
his. It could mean my life if Phoria finds out and thinks I’m part of it.”
“Can’t you just go to the queen and tell her, Klia?” asked Myrhini.
“My sister is not a trusting woman. She recalled me because she needed me in the field, and Korathan spoke for me. But it was on the condition that I recognize Elani as the princess royal, and give up any claim to the throne.”
“It still doesn’t seem fair,” Beka said without thinking.
“Understand this, Beka, and don’t ever forget it,” Klia told her sternly. “I don’t want to be queen. Growing up, I had two sisters ahead of me in line for the succession. I never expected to be queen. All I want is to do my duty to Skala. When Elani takes the throne, I will serve her, and gladly. But I want to know who is behind this plot, and how serious it is before I send anyone to the Tower.”
Beka pressed her fist to her heart again. “I won’t fail you, Commander.”
“I know. It’s why I asked you. Now that you know what is going on, I want you both to keep this to yourselves,” Klia warned. “Except for Nyal, Beka. He works with all the troops, coming and going without any questions asked. I know I can trust him as I trust you.”
“I’d stake my honor on it, Commander.”
“Good. I want you to court Danos, so to speak, see if you can be taken into his confidence. And most especially, I want you to intercept any secret messages he tries to send. They’re written in code.”
She handed Beka a wax tablet with the key written down. Beka read it over several times. It was fairly straightforward, so long as you could count.
“I think that’s about it,” said Klia when Beka handed it back.
Beka took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t remain silent in the face of all Klia had just told her. “There’s something I should tell you. I should have brought this to you sooner, but I thought—” She shook her head. “The night after you defeated the Plenimarans at the Silver River ford, I overheard some of Anri’s men talking. From what I could make out, they’d back you for the throne, and seemed to think I would, too.”
Klia sighed, running a hand over her tangled hair. “Watch her, too, then.”
“From what I gathered, she didn’t know about any plot. The men were unsure of her.”