Prince of the Blood (46 page)

See if you can determine who is controlling it
, said James, and Erland knew that Gamina had established the odd three-way mind-link. It was something she did only when she could sit and not speak, as the strain was too great otherwise. Most of the time in public she simply relayed messages.

Gamina closed her eyes as if she had a headache, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, then after a moment she said,
It’s no one I know by thought patterns. It’s difficult to say without risking being detected. I can only eavesdrop a few moments without being sensed by whoever is there
.

Where are they?

Nearby
, she answered.
In a complex of rooms on the other side of the garden that opens on to your rooms is the most likely place, Erland
.

Erland nodded. “I think after a bit I’ll retire. This has been a most distressing day.”

“Yes,” agreed James.
So what do you think of this invasion?

Aloud, so that any eavesdroppers might hear him, Erland said, “This invasion is clearly nonsense.”

James raised one eyebrow, but followed Erland’s lead. “I think so, too, but what is your reasoning?”

“Father would never let anything, especially personal grief or anger, lead him to make so rash and destructive a decision.”

That’s my thinking, too
, sent James. Aloud he said, “Then what are the alternatives?”

“Two possibilities. One, that the Empress’s intelligence is false, that someone is sending fabricated reports of a massive Kingdom buildup along the border to cause just this sort of disruption. Or that Father is not massing the Armies of the West to invade, but to counter a feared invasion from Kesh.”

James glanced at Erland with a momentary pride in the youngster’s reasoning, then said, “Those are the two obvious choices.” Silently he said,
You realize, of course, the significance of the second choice, if that is the correct one?

What?
asked Erland.

It means our courier system, and more, the intelligence system I’ve built over ten years here in Kesh, has been compromised
.

Of course
, said Erland, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the arm of his chair.
If the system has been compromised, then any intelligence we’ve gotten from any of our sources here is suspect. Nothing we have been told since before we left on this journey is trustworthy
.

James sighed aloud at that. Then, to cover for those listening, he said, “Sorry, Highness. That was rude. I’m tired.”

Erland said, “Think nothing of it.”

But that means we are completely on our own
, said James.
We can’t even see if the alleged staging of soldiers is true or false
.

Gamina stretched theatrically, saying, “Perhaps we’ll be a little more intelligent if we turn in.”

Time to do some work on our own
, said James.

Erland’s look was questioning.
What do you have in mind?

It’s been years since I’ve had to run the roofs of the palace looking for murderers, but I’ve not forgotten how to climb
.

Erland grinned, the first genuinely amused expression out of him for days.
Jimmy the Hand is coming out of retirement
.

Something like that. I want to see who is listening in on us, and I can best do that alone
.

Standing, Erland said, “I think I shall send a note to Sharana. Perhaps she can intercede with her grandmother. She must know that we harbor no ill will toward her nation.”

James nodded. “Good. I’m going to set pen to parchment and send dispatches to Shamata, to ascertain just what is occurring up there.”

Erland bowed to Gamina. “My lady, I trust your headache is past by morning.”

“I’m certain it will be, Highness.”

Erland quickly made his way to his own quarters and discovered he had no need to send a message for Sharana, as the Princess lay waiting upon his bed. Her court garments, the white kilt and vest, and her jewelry were piled neatly upon an ottoman at the foot of the bed. Smiling at Erland, she patted the cushion next to her, saying, “I was certain you were going to be in council with your people all night long.”

Erland tried to smile, but it was a weak effort. “I appreciate your desire to spend time with me, Sharana, but can we speak about this mess?”

“As soon as you get in here,” she said with a pout.

Erland motioned for the servants to wait outside and disrobed. He parted the hangings around the bed and lay down next to the Princess. She said, “I was hoping we might have this night to ourselves.”

“Of course, but—”

She put her fingers upon his lips, then kissed him, long and lingeringly. “We can talk later. I don’t want to be deprived of you one moment longer.”

Erland knew there were important issues to be discussed, but quickly he found himself agreeing with the Princess.… They could be discussed more calmly later.

“James,” whispered Gamina, waking her husband with a gentle shake of the shoulder.

“What?” he said, coming awake instantly.

“I had a dream,” she said.
Locklear is in the next apartment
.
She closed her eyes a moment, then
We can now speak among ourselves
.

Locky, what is it?
asked James.

I can’t stay long
, said Locklear.
Princess Sojiana has decided I’m her new favorite until the current crisis in the palace is resolved. I told her I had to return here personally to collect a few things and to write a couple of quick dispatches … I think I’m being confined …
—there came a sense of amusement—
albeit in a pleasant enough fashion. But Sojiana wants Arutha’s and Lyam’s recognition of her claim should the succession be disputed, and I think she may have had something to do with the attack on Borric
.

Why?
asked James.

Because she has only the support of the traditionalists among the truebloods, and her brother has widespread support among the military, except for the Order of Imperial Charioteers. Awari looks to have the upper hand, so there’s no need for him to ferment trouble between the Isles and Kesh
.

James sat back on the pillows; Gamina rested her head on his chest. He said,
Our intelligence doesn’t give me any reason to think the Princess would be behind any such attacks
.

I know
, said Locklear.
There’s more here than meets the eye. I will try to find out more while I’m … with the Princess
.

Trying to send a note of mockery, James said,
Don’t enjoy yourself too much in the search
.

Locklear bid them good night and Gamina sighed in audible relief when the contact was broken. The effort she spent on connecting the various minds had proven troublesome after a while. Fatigue was the price she paid and with all the formal events she was expected to attend, she found herself more and more depleted as the days wore on.

James said, “I think tomorrow you could do with some rest, my love. These … dreams have been troubling you too much of late. I’ll make excuses to the various Keshian nobles. Why don’t you see to a day of massage and rest?”

She snuggled close to her husband and said, “That would be nice,” but silently she said,
I will not be able to relax until we’re back on Kingdom soil, my love. This place reeks of plots and murder
.

Yes
, agreed James.
That it does
.

B
ORRIC WATCHED THE FIREWORKS
.

From the open front of the inn, he, Ghuda, and Nakor had a fairly good field of view, as most of the crowd was on the other side of the plaza, which opened on the vast Imperial amphitheater. Colorful displays of fireworks filled the night sky, to the astonishment of the crowd. Ghuda was lost in his own dark thoughts and Nakor watched the show with the rapt attention and open delight of a child. Borric had to admit it was far and away the most impressive he had seen, much surpassing even the best the King’s Master of Ceremonies had to offer in Rillanon.

Suli appeared and slid onto the bench next to Borric, picking up the cup of ale waiting for him. One thing the boy could do better than any of them was get information; he might be a poor thief, but Suli was an exceptional beggar, which meant he was halfway to being a rumor-monger.

“There is something strange happening, master,” he whispered.

At this Ghuda’s attention was caught. The mercenary had been in a foul mood since the abortive attempt to gain the help of the local thieves. He was now convinced
that two groups, the Imperial Guards and the thieves, were actively searching for them, and their lives would be measured in minutes—hours at best. He had resigned himself to dying without seeing a single copper of the money Borric had promised him, let alone having the opportunity to enjoy spending it.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“There are many important people coming and going in the palace tonight, beyond what is normal for even festival times. And men on horseback, wearing the badges of post riders, hasten to and from the upper city. Many guards race from one place to another, while others do nothing. It’s as if something big is happening, like a war or revolt or sudden disease. But there’s no hint of what it might be from the places you would hear of such a thing, the caravan drivers and boatmen, there is no talk of trouble in the inns and whorehouses. And there are the very odd comings and goings of the servants in the palace.”

Something struck Borric. “What do you mean by ‘odd comings and goings of servants in the palace’?”

Suli shrugged. “As best as I can understand it, master, the servants who are not trueblood are gone from the palace after the evening meal, usually before midnight. But for some reason many are heading back into the palace from the lower city. And fires can be seen in the cook buildings, as if a great deal of food is being prepared for many hundreds of people. Those who would be cooking the morning meal would not usually undertake to do so for another seven hours.”

Borric considered this in light of what he had been taught about Keshian politics, which while not extensive still contained one fact that fit in. “There are several hundred members of the Gallery of Lords and Masters in the city. Those not trueblood are being called to an emergency council. The food is to keep them from getting hungry during deliberations. With their retinue, many
thousands of people are upon the plateau who normally wouldn’t be there at this hour.” He thought about what this might mean. “How do they enter this upper city? Up that long road?”

Suli shrugged. “I can find out.” He slipped out of his seat and headed back into the plaza, which was filling up with citizens now that the festivities were over. Usually, most shops would be closed by this hour, just two hours before midnight, but the presence of the throng of celebrants had caused many of the businesses besides ale shops, wine sellers, inns, and brothels to remain open. Borric found it a little odd. The crowd was the match of anything he had ever seen in Krondor at high noon, yet it was four hours after sundown.

Ghuda said, “What insanity are you thinking of now, Madman?”

Borric said, “It depends on what Suli discovers. I’ll tell you when he returns. Just keep an eye open for any of those thugs we lost in the alley last night.”

Ghuda said, “Knowing the Imperial Guards, any of the people in that brothel who survived the raid are probably in cells right now while the city watch commander decides what to charge them with so he can sell them on the slave block. Imperial justice is fair: It punishes everyone equally, regardless of guilt or innocence.”

Time seemed to drag for the twenty minutes Suli was gone. When he at last returned, Suli looked puzzled. “It’s odd, master, but it seems every entrance to the upper city is open, so that those who need to return may do so by the quickest route.”

Borric’s eyes narrowed. “That many entrances? What about guards?”

Suli shrugged. “There weren’t any at the four or five entrances I saw, master.”

Borric rose and put on the black leather gloves that were part of his disguise. Overnight he had undergone his
third metamorphosis in the last week, thanks to Nakor’s bag and what was left of the money made from selling the Imperial horses. His short white hair was once again dark, a brown with hints of red, and he wore black armor and a black cloak. At casual glance he looked like an Imperial Guard of the Inner Legion. Upon closer examination, he would be another nameless mercenary, in the city for the celebration. Suli wore the same desert man’s garb and Nakor had put on a blue robe, which was slightly less faded and stained than the two he had worn before.

Ghuda had resisted any attempt to get him to change his armor and clothing, counting it as useless in the face of certain destruction. He had bought a new red tunic more to halt Borric’s nagging than out of any real belief it would help them avoid eventual capture by either the thieves or the Imperial Guards looking for Borric.