Hell's Foundations Quiver (118 page)

Captain Baiket sat in a chair to one side and Sir Ahbail Bahrdailahn, Thirsk's flag lieutenant, sat next to his flag captain. Baiket's expression was calm, but Bahrdailahn looked a bit nervous.

Two Temple Guardsmen, both with officers' insignia, stood to either side of the door through which Khapahr had just stepped, and he nodded casually to them as he moved several more paces into the day cabin, coming to a halt under the central skylight, facing the earl. The skylight's louvers were open, and a gentle breeze wafted in through them to stir his dark hair as he tucked his hat under his left arm. His expression was calm and respectful, the perfect model of an attentive staff officer. As always, he was immaculately groomed—it was easy to see why he'd attracted the eye of so many females over the years—although his tunic was unbuttoned this morning.

“Yes. Yes, I did ask Mhartyn to send you straight to me when you arrived, Ahlvyn,” Thirsk said after the briefest of pauses, and there was a slight but unmistakable edge to his voice.

“How may I serve you, My Lord?”

“I'm afraid Father Chermyn has a few matters he needs straightened out.”

“Of course, My Lord.” Khapahr turned to face the fair-haired, broad-shouldered cleric in the purple cassock of the Order of Schueler badged with the sword and flame of the Inquisition in the green of an upper-priest. “How may I be of service, Father?”

“As the Earl says, I have a few minor questions that need … clarification, Commander.”

Father Chermyn Suzhymahga was easily the tallest man in the cabin. He'd been born and raised in the Episcopate of St. Cahnyr at the western end of Lake Pei and handpicked to serve as Ahbsahlahn Kharmych's senior agent inquisitor in the Kingdom of Dohlar. He had the smooth accent and exquisite manners only to be expected from one of the Temple Lands' great ecclesiastic dynasties and they'd served him well over the years. But now, as he smiled pleasantly at Khapahr, that smile somehow never reached his still, watchful blue eyes.

“Of course, Father,” the commander said courteously.

“Did you meet with Auxiliary Bishop Staiphan last night, Commander?”

“I did.”

“May I ask why?”

“I'm not sure I have the right to tell you that, Father,” Khapahr said, still courteously. “It was pursuant to my duties as Earl Thirsk's senior aide.”

“I'm sure Earl Thirsk would permit you to answer my question, Commander.”

“My Lord?” Khapahr looked at the earl.

“You may answer Father Chermyn's questions, Ahlvyn, unless you have reason to believe it would compromise sensitive military information.” Suzhymahga seemed to bristle ever so slightly, but Thirsk continued in the same measured tones. “If there
is
something you feel might compromise that sort of information, you and I can step out onto the sternwalk to discuss it before you share it with Father Chermyn.” He smiled briefly, fleetingly. “I doubt the Father is a serious security risk, and I'm sure a brief discussion would set both our minds at rest.”

“I appreciate the offer, My Lord, but I don't think that will be necessary or advisable,” Khapahr said, then turned back to Suzhymahga. “Given what His Lordship's just said, Father, I believe I can answer your question. Bishop Staiphan sent a note to my shore lodgings asking me to call upon him at my earliest convenience. When I did, he told me Father Ahbsahlahn wished to speak to him—that is, to the Bishop—and to Earl Thirsk this afternoon at the Archbishop's palace. He knows I have primary responsibility for keeping His Lordship's calendar, and he wanted to make sure time was cleared for the meeting.”

“I see. And did he tell you what that meeting was to be about?”

“No, Father, he didn't. Nor did I ask him. I felt that if there was some reason for me to know, he'd tell me about it.”

“I see,” Suzhymahga repeated. Then he cocked his head. “May I ask where you went after leaving Bishop Staiphan, Commander?”

“I went to call upon my cousin, Sir Ahrnahld Mahkzwail,” Khapahr replied calmly. Behind him, Thirsk stiffened ever so slightly, but Suzhymahga's eyes were on Khapahr's face.

“May I ask why?” the Schuelerite asked softly, almost gently.

“I'd made a mistake, Father.” Khapahr shrugged with a whimsical smile. “I thought I was engaged to dine with him and his family last night, but I had the wrong five-day. He not only wasn't expecting me for supper, but he'd been detained in his office at the waterfront. So I spoke briefly with Lady Stefyny, made my apologies, and left.”

“And returned directly to your lodgings, I presume?”

“No, Father. I had several other minor errands, and Bishop Staiphan had made it clear—or I certainly thought that was what he was suggesting, at any rate—that His Lordship would be occupied for some time today with Father Ahbsahlahn. Since it seemed likely my schedule would be the same as his, I thought it best to deal with them last night and get them out of the way.”

“And one of those ‘minor errands' took you to Brukfyrd Alley?”

The question came sharp and sudden, snapped out so abruptly Lieutenant Bahrdailahn twitched in surprise, but Ahlvyn Khapahr only smiled.

“Why do I think you already know the answer to that question, Father?”

“Because I
do
, Commander,” Suzhymahga said coldly. “What I don't know is why one of your ‘minor errands' took you to the lodgings of a known smuggler. Or why you booked passage aboard his ship for five adults and eight children. Or why you did that
after
speaking to Lady Stefyny Mahkzwail. Who sent you there, Commander, and why?”

“No one sent me, Father,” Khapahr said calmly.

“So if we were to ask Lady Stefyny we'd find she had nothing to do with those arrangements?” Suzhymahga's voice was colder than ever, and his eyes drifted at last from Khapahr to the Earl of Thirsk, standing very, very still against the stern windows.

“If you were to ask Lady Stefyny, Father,” Khapahr said, “I'm sure she'd tell you I informed her that the increased tempo of terrorist attacks in Jhurlahnk and Faralas have caused her father some concern. That he feared they might choose to target the families of senior Dohlaran officers, especially naval officers and particularly here in the capital itself, because of that business in the Kaudzhu Narrows and the Malansath Bight. And, for that matter, as a belated reprisal for the Charisian prisoners who were sent to Zion for Punishment year before last. That because of his concern for her personal safety he wished her and her family—and her sister and
her
family—to return to Thirsk, where they would be safer from such attacks.”

“And you expect me to believe a woman as intelligent as Lady Stefyny is widely known to be believed she could be transported to Thirsk aboard Captain Kartyr's
schooner?
I believe Thirsk is in the Duchy of Windborne, is it not? Just a bit far
inland
for someone to sail to it, wouldn't you say, Commander?”

“No,” Khapahr said. “Obviously, Lady Stefyny is far too intelligent to believe anything of the sort. However, I never suggested to her that she and her family would be traveling to Thirsk aboard the
Mairee Zhain
. In fact, I never mentioned a ship to her at all. I'm afraid she thought we'd be traveling overland.”

Earl Thirsk stiffened again, this time much more noticeably, and Khapahr glanced at him and smiled almost repentantly.

“I apologize for being less than honest with your daughter, My Lord. It seemed the … best way to proceed.” He reached casually into his unbuttoned uniform tunic. “After all, the truth would have upset her so.”

His right hand came out of his tunic, and every person in the cabin froze as the pistol hammer came back with a clearly audible click.

No one moved, and Khapahr beckoned gently with the muzzle of the pistol.

“Forgive me, My Lord, but I think you should join the others before you do something … intemperate.”

Thirsk stared at him, then drew a deep breath.

“Please, Ahlvyn,” he said very, very softly. “
Please
, don't do this.”

“I'm afraid I don't have a great many options, My Lord,” the commander said. “Now, please, do as I ask.”

Thirsk looked at him for another moment. Then his shoulders slumped and he crossed to stand beside Captain Baiket's chair.

“Thank you, My Lord.” Khapahr looked back at Suzhymahga, whose eyes were fixed in disbelief on the weapon in his hand. “And now, Father, perhaps you'd care to tell me what Captain Kartyr had to say when you asked
him
about my visit?”

Suzhymahga blinked and dragged his eyes away from the pistol, then glared at him wordlessly, and Khapahr shook his head.

“I wondered why you were conducting this little interrogation in front of the Earl. You didn't take Kartyr alive, did you? Or else you—or possibly these two gentlemen with you—were a bit overenthusiastic about how you asked him? They didn't know about his heart condition, did they?”

By rights, Suzhymahga's fiery eyes should have reduced the commander to a pile of flaky ash.

“That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think—you
honestly
think—His Lordship had something to do with this? You're standing there hoping he'll suddenly confess to sending me to Kartyr. That would be a little difficult for him to do, though, since he didn't.”

“Where did you get
that?
” the upper-priest demanded suddenly, pointing at the weapon in Khapahr's hand. It was a Charisian-made revolver.

“Where do you
think
I got it?” Khapahr retorted contemptuously. “I—”

His eyes flicked suddenly to the side, and the muzzle of the revolver twitched to the right.

“Captain Baiket, I would truly regret shooting an officer I respect as much as I respect you. Take your hand off your dagger hilt, please.”

Steward Baiket stared at him, then carefully lifted his empty right hand and showed it to the commander.

“Thank you,” Khapahr said, and returned his full attention to Suzhymahga.

“Where were we?” he asked. “Ah, yes! You were about to trick the Earl into confessing his complicity in some plot to smuggle his family somewhere else. Actually, it would have made my job much simpler if he'd been willing to consider anything of the sort. After all, he would have relied upon me to make all the arrangements. Which, I'm afraid, would have been rather foolish of him.”

“What?” Suzhymahga frowned. Then he shook himself. “What sort of lie are you trying to spin now?” he demanded.

“It's a bit late to be spinning lies, Father. Obviously, you and your agents inquisitor couldn't find your arses with both hands, but despite yourself, you've managed to thoroughly fuck up my own plans. I'd congratulate you if I thought you'd actually had a single clue about what those plans were.”

“You don't think you're getting off of this ship—or even out of this cabin—alive, do you?” Suzhymahga asked almost pleasantly.

“And you don't think
you're
getting me off this ship alive, either, do you, Father?” Khapahr retorted. “I'm sure you'd like to, and I'm sure that's exactly what the Grand Fornicator would expect you to do. I rather regret that I won't have the opportunity to see you explain this colossal fuck-up to him.”

“What are you talking about now?”

“The one thing you've actually managed to accomplish, despite what's obviously monumental stupidity,” Khapahr told him, “is to unmask the most highly placed Charisian spy in Dohlar.”

Absolute silence invaded the cabin. It hovered there for perhaps ten seconds before Suzhymahga shook himself like a golden retriever who'd just come ashore.

“Charisian spy,” he repeated softly. “You actually
admit
that?”

“I might as well.” Khapahr shrugged. “If Kartyr's dead—and he
is
dead, isn't he?—you'll probably eventually find his codebook.” He glanced at a white-faced Thirsk. “When I suggested you release him and his ship because he'd make a suitably disreputable spy to keep an eye out for people selling information to the Charisians and planting our own spies on them, I truly did think he'd be perfect for the part. But I'm afraid I neglected to tell you that I was so confident of his abilities because he already
was
a spy … for Charis.”

“
Kartyr
was a Charisian spy?” Suzhymahga said.

“Of course he was.” Khapahr chuckled mirthlessly. “If your agents inquisitor were so stupid they hadn't figured
that
out, it may not've been his heart that killed him. Didn't you even think to check him for poison?”

Suzhymahga darted a venomous look at one of the Temple Guardsmen and Khapahr shook his head.

“Good help is hard to find, isn't it?” He sounded almost commiserating.

“What did you hope to accomplish?” Suzhymahga asked.

“Well, for the last couple of years, I've accomplished quite a bit in passing information to the Charisians,” Khapahr told him. “I'm sure that had a little something to do with how handily they managed to retake Claw Island. They paid quite well for it, too. Of course, all that money's been held in an anonymous account in Siddar City. It's a pity I'll never see it after all. I was looking forward to a long and wealthy retirement.”

“You're a
traitor
?” Bahrdailahn demanded from his place beside Captain Baikyr. “All these years, you've been a
traitor?!
”

“Not
all
these years, Ahbail,” Khapahr disagreed. “Only the two and a half years or so since I convinced His Lordship to release Kartyr.”

“Where was he going to take my family?” Thirsk's voice was strangely dead, flattened with something which sounded far more like disappointment—or grief—than the fiery outrage of betrayal.